Chapter 26 Uncontrolled #2
My heartbeat quickened as I lifted my laptop screen back up and read the letter again.
It spoke of the sponsors—of which there were so few I could count them on one hand—and since I knew those companies, had met with their investment divisions, I knew there was no way they were really behind this.
Certain decisions arrive from levels to which we are not privy, the letter said. And that told me everything I needed to know.
Because this couldn’t have been a decision from my direct superiors or even sponsors. This meant someone else got involved. Someone with power who really didn’t want me to continue writing for The Hallowing Hour.
I couldn’t help but think of Chase and Avenor from the ASS, and the letter from the Sable Syndicate that Thayer received. I had a strong feeling either one of the two could be responsible.
Either way, I had no proof other than my own account and my involvement with Lucien.
An image of my apartment after the break-in came to mind.
The ruined sheets upon sheets of paper on which I’d dedicated all my adult life to recording everything supernatural I had encountered.
The torn world map with the colored pins on the floor.
All I had left was my laptop and my Spellscript notebook.
But being the technophobe that I was, I hadn’t bothered to document anything online, preferring to use good old pen and paper. So all I had were the articles I wrote, without any of my research in existence.
I also no longer had access to the magazine’s resources.
But you’re not going to start from scratch, a little voice reminded me. You have Lucien now. He mentioned talking to Blaise, with his connections to the Underearth . . .
That gave me pause. Right—yesterday evening Lucien had said something that alluded to the Underearth being in some way connected to what happened to Willow and Julianna.
I glanced at the entrance door and grimaced. In my bout of utterly selfish thoughts, I’d also forgotten about what really mattered. Willow and Julianna were what really mattered. My job, my apartment, my feelings for Lucien . . . These things wouldn’t bring justice to my sisters.
So the question that remained was, what would?
Thayer and I were eating dinner when the howling started.
My brother seemed a little ill at ease from the sounds, shifting uncomfortably in his chair as he barely touched the pasta on his plate.
I had to admit, I wasn’t feeling much better. The howls were eerie, like a bad omen, and with the image of Kate in my mind, and what Lucien might need to be put through, I couldn’t help but feel a chill crawling up my spine.
Neither Thayer nor I talked as we attempted to eat the takeout Thayer had brought over when he returned from a whole day in the Concordian Ward with Anais and Enoch, and when the howling didn’t stop, we both gave up trying.
As Thayer washed the dishes and I rinsed, he broke the terse silence and said, “I wonder what it feels like to lose yourself for a whole night.”
Thinking of Kate, I felt sick. I didn’t want to tell him about Wildlight.
“I imagine it feels both terrifying yet freeing,” I responded, rinsing the plate, trying not to jump when some howls echoed ominously close. “Though what would I know?”
Thayer nodded slowly, rigidly, as he handed me the last plate. “It’s surreal,” he murmured, “to think that this kind of creature has been living under our noses all this time.”
His words made me freeze as I put the plate I rinsed in the rack, and I turned to him, letting my anxious curiosity get the better of me. “You’ve been adapting exceptionally well to the whole idea of the supernatural ever since you landed here, all things considered,” I stated cautiously.
His gray eyes were filled with grief when he turned to stare at me.
“A lot of things have happened in the last few days,” he said quietly.
“Your apartment was trashed. You were hurt through Lucien. The threatening letter I got. It would be more surprising if I kept denying what I saw with my own eyes—let alone stupid.”
I couldn’t help but smile a little. “God forbid a person acts stupid.”
Shooting me a somewhat filthy look, he stepped back from the sink and folded his arms. “All these years, I didn’t want to believe you, Drew,” he suddenly said, face serious.
“I didn’t want your words to be the truth, even though the moment you told me what happened eight years ago, a deep part of me knew you had no reason to lie. Not about something like this.”
Catching my gaze, his expression was full of regret when he said, “Out of all of us four, you were always the most sensible one. You hardly ever lied, unless it was for Will’s or Jules’s sake.
You were always the most reliable. If I didn’t believe you of all people, then who should I have believed?
” He paused, sucked in a deep breath, and looked away when he softly added, “I just . . . I needed an explanation I could process. A concrete logic I could follow. That our sisters were gone because of some supernatural creature appearing out of nowhere wasn’t enough to ease my own guilt. ”
My heart broke a little at his admission. To think that some part of him believed me all this time yet was forced down in denial . . . it hurt. It fucking hurt.
But at the same time, I couldn’t erase the fact he was feeling guilty about that day too. After all, I wasn’t the only one who lost two sisters.
Thayer did too.
There was nothing left to say after that, and Thayer excused himself and retired for the night.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep.
It wasn’t just the never-ending sound of wolves howling to the moon that prevented me from falling asleep, but rather the conversation with Thayer that kept circling in my mind.
So after hours of trying, I got out of bed and went to the living room to make myself a cup of coffee. It was already four o’clock in the morning at that point, after all, and it seemed sleeping was not in the cards for me tonight.
With a hot mug of latte, I sat on the couch and stared out the window at the darkness of the forest. Even though it was pitch black, I caught the leaves’ rustle as wolves, most likely, passed by.
I wondered how Lucien was faring. He didn’t tell me how he, as an Alpha, endured the full moon, aside from being the only one capable of restraining a wolf afflicted with Wildlight.
His face when he stared at Kate’s body, so full of despair, wasn’t a sight I wanted to see again. I hoped no one would suffer from Wildlight tonight.
I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to be a werewolf. With the ability to shift forms between human and wolf—did it feel liberating in a way? Being a human, even if only in shape, had constraints an animal didn’t, be they cultural, physical, or mental.
Hearing the animalistic howls outside, I wondered what it would be like to lose my humanity for one night every month. I mean, I already had something similar—my PMS hormones caused my behavior to be as close to that of an animal as I would ever be able to feel—yet this, obviously, was different.
From the howling sounds, I could tell the werewolves weren’t running around alone. There was something melodic, like a question-and-answer cadence, to their howls. Despite it being somewhat terrifying, there was also something musical and magical about those sounds.
Werewolves lived in packs, after all, and while Lucien viewed it through the lens of the leader, the Alpha, the rest of the pack probably acted like some sort of community. It had to be the only way for all these supernatural creatures, Otherborne, to coexist without ripping each other’s heads off.
To be part of such a community, even if built on the mere common ground of being the same race, to belong somewhere like that . . . Those things made me feel a deep, longing ache in my heart.
The supernatural world took your sisters, Drew, the voice of reason reminded me bitterly. Why would you yearn to become an Otherborne?
It was a good question, but I also knew the answer.
Because I’m lonely, and at least if I were a werewolf, or even another type of Otherborne, I would belong somewhere. Anywhere.
I wouldn’t be thought of as some sort of a cuckoo. A crackpot. A delusional grief-stricken sister.
I wouldn’t have to convince my parents of anything for the sake of some hopeless approval.
And, I knew, all that was selfish of me. It was like joining the enemy who killed my sisters.
But was it really the enemy, though?
Lucien wasn’t an enemy . . .
Shaking my head, I forced my thoughts away and distracted myself by looking at my phone. There were a couple of missed calls from my parents. I’d been in the cabin alone the entire day, with Lucien gone and Thayer only returning in the evening. I could have answered them if I wanted to.
But I didn’t.
Thayer and I had already changed the SIM cards in our phones to avoid any possible tracking by the Syndicate, and we also changed our numbers in the process. Thayer must’ve given our parents his new number and mine, too, because otherwise, they couldn’t have reached out to me.
Which would’ve been better, though I didn’t fault Thayer for doing that.
Either way, I couldn’t bring myself to care about my parents right now.
Besides, I knew why they called: to tell me about another job opening one of their rich friends’ son’s friends had in their wealthy conglomerate company.
They would try to force my hand, to make me move back to Seattle and take that job, as they always did.
They wanted me under their control, after all, so I would stop ruining their oh-so-precious reputation.
My resentment toward them was so integrated into my very being, I couldn’t imagine ever going back to Seattle, even just to visit.
They would never change. They would always put everything else first over their own kids, as they had always done. And I was sick and tired of playing their game.