10. Wolf
The following night we’re expecting rain, but the air is warm, and I sit out on the back steps of the kitchen at Heron Mill regardless.
I couldn’t go home. Not yet. It just felt too strange to be by myself tonight. And it seems as though every one of my brothers are staying here right now anyway. Well, everyone except Raine. Who, apparently, is safe. I’m not sure anyone would tell me the real truth right now, but they respect me enough that if something really bad had happened to him, they’d tell me.
Plus, I think I’d feel it.
I think I’d know.
The six of us are tied together in ways no one would ever quite be able to understand. The love we have for each other, our family, far surpasses that of anything else I’ve ever felt.
The door is open at my back, letting in some of the warm summer breeze and probably an endless amount of moths as they follow the glow of the hall light beyond the dark kitchen. I peer out into the dense trees, seeing nothing, but hearing so much. The swooshing of the leaves in the breeze, the call of owls, the snuffles of hedgehogs.
“I can’t sleep either.” My stepsister turned sister-in-law’s voice sounds at my back, her footsteps silent as she makes her way closer.
Tyson and Duke, Grace and Hunter’s two Dobermans, bound down the steps beside me, rushing out into the dark trees. The light press of Grace’s fingertips against my shoulder comes next as her swollen, bare feet appear beside me on the step.
She’s slow to step down, my hand lifted in offering to guide her safely down. Once her bum meets the concrete beside me she breathes out a big sigh.
“The boys were easier than this,” she says quietly, staring up at me with mismatched eyes, a gentle smile. She drops her gaze, palming her big, round belly lightly, brushing her fingers over her nightdress covered bump, “I’m so uncomfortable.” She blows a long strand of blonde hair from her face, her eyes coming back to mine. “What’s keeping you up, Wolf?”
I huff a breath, shaking my head, “I’m restless.”
A small smile tips her lips, “So’s this baby.” Grace stares out at the forest beyond, one hand on her bump, the other still in mine. “Are you worried about Raine?” she asks softly, concern in her voice, she tightens her fingers over mine.
I sigh, looking down at her, her face pinched with worry, “Not really. I think he’ll be just fine.” Deep down, I believe it too. “You don’t need to worry about him, Grace, he’s a big boy, he’ll come back.” She tilts her face up, her eyes meeting mine, one a warm hazel, the other an icy-blue, it makes me think of Luna. “I wouldn’t lie to you,” I tell her with a smile.
“Blackwells don’t tell lies,” she recites easily, something that’s been etched into each of our brains since Mum left, before that too, but Dad really drilled it into us after she was gone, now Grace is passing it down to her boys.
“Blackwells don’t tell lies,” I agree, squeezing her hand softly.
“Are you staying here a while?” she asks after a few minutes of listening to the quiet.
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me what’s really on your mind,” she whispers it into the darkness, and I look down at her dainty hand in mine, the wedding bands bright even in the dark on her ring finger. “I may not tell lies, but I can keep a secret.” She chuckles a little at that, and I swear, even now, almost seven years after she first appeared in our lives, it’s still a shock to see her so emotive.
“You know about my nurse?” I ask her, peering down at the side of her face as she bumps her shoulder softly into mine.
“Of course, I know about your nurse,” she smiles wider, pulling in her bottom lip as she lifts her gaze back to mine.
“Hunter tells you everything, huh?” I grin at her.
“Sometimes,” she smiles back and it feels good, having her with us. I can’t remember not having a sister, and I’m glad that I can’t because this feels too good to miss out on. “What’s she like?”
It throws me. The question. Because truly, what is she like?
“Her name’s Luna.”
Grace hums happily, “Like the moon.”
I drop my gaze, staring at the thin material of my light grey joggers, my knees almost pushing through the worn, aged fabric, “Her skin is like the moon.” Grace’s smile falls, but not unpleasantly. “Her hair is as black as the night sky, darker even than that maybe, like her skin reflects the sun and her hair consumes its light.” I breathe in a shuddery breath, staring down at Grace’s hand in mine. “Her eyes are bright blue, clear though, like a glacier.” I think of the way Luna says my name and my heart starts to drum to a beat only it can hear. “She’s sad.”
‘Your eyes are like a real wolf’s.’
“You could make her happy,” Grace whispers, her head cocked to one side, a strand of thigh-length hair falling forward of her shoulder. “You’re a bit grumpy sometimes, but you have the purest smile of anyone I know.” My heart clenches, an ache in my chest that has nothing to do with the healing gunshot wound. “I think you should go get her.”
I stare out at the trees, Tyson and Duke racing back towards us through the brambles, a large stick swaying between both of their mouths. They sit at the foot of the steps, staring up at Grace with dripping maws. I nudge her shoulder with my own, in exactly the same way she did to me, and it brings her smile back.
“Silly boys,” she tuts, shaking her head loosely as she stares down at them. “I think it’s time to get this baby to bed.” She sighs heavily, a small grunt escaping her as she shifts her swollen feet, stretching out her toes. “Hunter,” she calls quietly over her shoulder, “help me up, please.”
We smile at each other as he appears from the shadows. Both of us knew he was there. He’s never far away from the woman that he loves, but luckily for us, he doesn’t snatch her away like he used to.
I want that.
With Luna.
“Thanks, sis,” I turn my head, resting my chin over my shoulder.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles softly down at me, Hunter’s hands beneath her arms pulling her to her full height, leading her into the house. “Goodnight, Wolf.”
The dogs trot up the steps behind them, brushing past me as they go, “G’night, Grace.”
The clock in the kitchen ticks loudly, as though it’s the mill’s way of calling me back inside. So I pull myself up on the iron handrail, and lock the door behind me, only to find Archer sitting at the table.
“How long have you been there?” I ask, grabbing a glass from an overhead cabinet and taking it to the sink.
“Long enough.”
Filling the glass with water, I pop a painkiller from my pocket and swallow it down, “What you thinking about, Arch?”
My younger brother by only a year looks up at me as I rest my arse against the edge of the sink, his hands steepled together atop the red and white chequered table cloth. It’s a wipe clean one, made of that thick, shiny plastic stuff, lucky really, because my nephews, Atlas, River, and Roscoe, like to colour in the white squares with paints.
Archer swallows, holding my gaze, face blank, like he’s seen a ghost, he whispers, “Her.” My blood runs cold, goosebumps racing across my flesh like little erupting volcanoes. “How her hair shone in the summer and her eyes swallowed me whole.” his words reminiscent of what I just said about Luna in my conversation with Grace.
Every part of me feels like ice, they never talk about her, Archer, Arrow, and Raine.
“He thinks he’s seen her.” Archer breathes the words like they hurt him to say.
“Who?”
“Raine called.” Dread cramps my stomach as I think of that phone call. “He was out of it, babbling a bunch of bullshit.” Archer looks up at me, his hands thudding against the table. “He’s there you know.”
Magpie Manor.
We don’t speak of it after what happened there.
“Dancing around with shadows and ghouls,” Archer laughs but it isn’t humorous. “He’s managed to get Arrow to follow him there now.” He shakes his head, “Chasing a ghost girl,” he snorts, huffing a dark laugh. “He wanted me to go with him.” He looks at me then, sharply, like he’s pleading silently, but I don’t know what I can give.
“It’s alright, man, you don’t have to go back there again, Arr-”
“It’s not fair!” he explodes, throwing himself to standing, the chair clatters to the floor, palms of his hands landing flat on the table. His chest heaves, black hair falling into his eyes. “It’s not fair that she was taken from us,” us. “And now Raine thinks because he’s the fucking baby, he can get fucked up and drag us all down into the pits with him! Well, he can’t! It’s not fucking fair that he’s doing this to us!” Archer’s chest heaves, a sob lunging up his throat. His voice cracks and bleeds, and I’m dropping the water glass into the sink, crossing the room and taking my brother into my arms. “It isn’t fucking fair, I loved her too and I don’t get to bring her back.” Archer sobs, his entire body trembling, heaving as he breaks down in my arms. “It isn’t fair.”
“You’re right,” I say, kissing the top of his head fiercely, “it isn’t fair.” I swallow, thinking of his girl, thinking of my Luna. “It isn’t fucking fair what happened to you, and it isn’t fucking fair that Raine’s bringing this all back up now. But if I know you, Arch,” I tell him, holding him tight to me as he cries in my arms, his face in my chest, my heart breaking inside my chest. “It’s that this didn’t break you before, and it’s not going to break you now.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, “You’re one of the strongest men I know, and we’ll get you through this, okay?”
Archer’s body trembles as I keep holding him tight. He draws in air, settling his breathing, his hands fisted against my bare back, knuckles pressing into my spine.
“We’ll get you through this, okay, Arch?” I mumble against the top of his head, swaying him slowly in my arms.
“No! No,” he shoves off of me. “We’re not letting the same thing happen to you.” He sniffs hard, wiping his arm across his nose, he pushes his hair back, sniffing again. “We’re going to get Luna, don’t fuck up by walking away, Wolf. It feels like the right thing to do because you’re a good man. But you’re also a fucking Blackwell, and we don’t give up. Don’t lose your girl before you’ve even got her.” He’s panting, his chest heaving, shoulders rising and falling, rising and falling. “Don’t end up like me,” he whispers, his cheeks shiny with smeared tears, eyes red and bloodshot. “Let’s go and get Thorne.”