Chapter 3 #3
“It doesn’t seem the same to me.” Selene grabbed another note card and envelope. “You’re talking about classmates who’d like to eat you. Don’t werewolves and vampires eat people?”
“No, not anymore. They don’t want to eat me. Well, maybe they want to, but they won’t. They follow rules about that,” Allie argued. “Besides, most of the paranormals don’t go to school. They’re much too old.”
“Too old?” Selene returned to her list. She decided to skip the note to Fenris Hall. Maybe she would hand deliver it at dinner on Saturday . . . Dinner with the werewolf pack leader.
This cannot be happening. Normal, Selene, we’re pretending this is normal. We are not panicking.
“Well, you know, they’re immortal. Most of them have done all the school they need. Probably more than they need. They just pop in every so often for updates, when something major happens.”
Selene tried to keep her voice even. “Updates?”
“I don’t know. Technology mostly, I guess. Computers were big. And political stuff. Revolutions, new countries. That sort of thing. They need to fit in with the rest of us. It’s toughest for the vamps since they can’t go to school. But I think some of them take night courses.”
Allie got up and wandered over to Selene, who had just ruined another note.
“I don’t know any vampires, though,” she continued.
“Wolves and vamps don’t like each other.
Josh said it’s something about a blood feud that started in Europe a couple thousand years ago.
I guess they’re still hacking it out over there, but the American groups have called a truce.
They mostly avoid each other here, just to be safe. ”
“I see.” Selene felt dizzy. She wondered if it was the conversation or the glue from the envelopes.
“I have met some of the Fae,” Allie said.
“The Fae?”
“Faeries. They’re fun, but they like to make trouble,” Allie said.
Selene set down the pen. “Have they caused you trouble?”
Allie shook her head. “No one bothers me because of Josh. You don’t mess with werewolves.”
Selene stared at Fenris Hall’s name. It was circled and had a note reminding her to try and track down his address—a feat no one had managed. Now she was invited to his home.
Money. Power.
She closed her eyes.
Fur. Fangs.
“Auntie Sel?” Allie frowned at Selene’s pale face.
“I’m sorry, Allie.” Selene shook her head. “I think that’s all my brain can handle for tonight.”
“Mine too, honestly. Time to crash.” Allie stood up, then hesitated, tensing up. “You’re still, um, taking the guest room?”
“Yes,” Selene said quickly.
When they’d agreed that Selene would move to Avondale and live with Allie, Allie had asked if Selene wanted to take Emma’s old room.
It was the largest and had an en suite bathroom.
But Selene wasn’t ready for that. She suspected Allie wasn’t either.
They probably wouldn’t ever be. Maybe, in time, they could recreate it as a shared space.
A den or art studio or whatever. For the moment it remained a shrine to Emma.
Selene and Allie gave each other a smile and wave as they headed to their respective bedrooms. Closing the door behind her felt safe, like she’d shut out all the frightening things she’d seen and heard since Josh appeared.
Pushing all thoughts of the supernatural away, she walked around the room, wondering if it would feel different now that she wasn’t a visitor.
Now it was home. Would the linens stop smelling of lavender, or had Emma done something to ensure that soothing, herbaceous scent lingered?
The room was filled with antiques that Emma—who’d been a casual collector of Victorian pieces—had procured over the years.
A wrought iron bedframe, a wardrobe, a dresser, and a vanity set of rosewood that gleamed with warm, inner light.
There were even lace doilies, which Emma admitted she knew were fussy, but she got a kick out of the fact that they were invented to stop men’s hair oil from staining furniture.
“Can you imagine how awful that must have been?” Emma shuddered. “Or having to touch hair styled with that much oil?”
As Selene’s fingers traced the pattern of the doily on the vanity, she smiled at the memory. It carried an ache, but it also made her smile. Emma would always be here, and Selene was grateful for that.
She picked up a silver-framed photo of Selene and Emma with Allie wedged between them.
All three women were laughing, their features dappled by sunlight.
Allie’s golden-blond hair came from her father, but she had Emma’s warm deep-brown eyes.
Emma’s hair matched her eyes, and in this photo it was styled in the chic inverted choppy bob she’d favored in recent years.
It reminded Selene she needed to fix her own hair situation.
Things were getting dire. She reached up and pulled her thick auburn hair out of the topknot she’d been throwing it into on a near-daily basis.
Calling it a bun was generous. Her hair was too long to fit into a reasonable knot, and with each passing day it looked more and more like some sort of avant-garde sculpture.
She groaned, rubbing her scalp as the long tresses loosened and spilled over her shoulders.
Selene walked to the window that overlooked the backyard, then began to close the drapes, when something caught her eye.
There was a dog in the backyard. A big dog. A really, really big dog. It was one of those dogs that they used in dogsled races. Those were called . . . huskies? Selene hadn’t realized they were huge. But if they were pulling sleds through the snow, that made sense.
She frowned. The dog wasn’t roaming around, sniffing. It was very still and almost seemed to be staring at the house.
Should I call animal control?
The dog didn’t frighten her, but she worried about it getting hit by a car.
You’re in the country now, Selene. Chill. Maybe people here let their dogs run around.
She certainly didn’t want to piss off any of her new neighbors by getting their dogs sent to the local pound. If it kept showing up, she could ask around and see who it belonged to.
As she watched the dog, its muzzle lifted and its gaze moved to the second floor of the house, locking on her.
A laugh slipped from her throat. Yeah right, that dog is not looking at me. I am way too tired.
Even as the thought formed, the dog darted off into the night. Hopefully it was heading home.
All at once, a new disturbing idea slammed into her. Not a big dog. A wolf. A werewolf.
A werewolf that was watching the house.
But why would Josh be staring up at this room?
And while Selene didn’t entirely trust her memory, she thought the wolf outside looked different from Josh. It had the wrong color fur, and if anything, it was bigger than Josh.
Selene closed the drapes, shivering. It was naive to think she could shut a door and forget that her world had changed forever.
Life in Avondale would be like nothing she’d ever experienced.
She’d expected that when she moved here, because she was now responsible for a kid and because a small town would be nothing like Los Angeles.
But she never could have anticipated that living with Allie meant accepting a home full of otherworldly beings.
She flopped onto the bed, dismissing the idea of retrieving her suitcase from her car.
Pajamas could wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow held promise.
Selene could still wake up to a normal world. But if she didn’t, what then?
Was that something she could live with? More importantly, was it safe for her and Allie to stay in Avondale?
Selene was asleep before she could settle on an answer to that question.