The Mayfair Moon
“You are pretty,” she began, “I give you that much, but that’s all you have.”
My hand to Isaac’s chest stopped him, but I knew he wouldn’t honor my request for much longer. It was only because of me that he hadn’t already killed her, that he hadn’t turned into the violent, brutal creature that he was.
“Rachel,” I said, “What are you saying?” I really just wanted her to be honest with me, stop playing her hateful, puzzling games for once. I hoped the sincerity was visible in my face. I hoped she would respect it.
Her hand fell away; it had felt soft against my skin.
Nathan stood in the doorway then and Rachel’s posture changed. Still defiant as ever to Isaac, but now with less mockery. She held her chin high. The girls who had been with her, disappeared.
“Anymore of this, Rachel,” said Nathan, “and you’re on your own with my brother. Do you understand?”
She didn’t answer. One last look at me before she slithered out of the room. Nathan passed Isaac an apologetic nod before following her, shutting the door behind him.
“She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” he growled, still staring fiercely at the door.
“Isaac,” I said softly, pleadingly, “what is a Blood Bond?”
Something about him seemed different suddenly. Behind the pain-stricken exterior, I saw in him, a sliver of a thought. It was faint, but just enough that it was there. His gaze met mine and it held there, suspended in time.
Then it all fell apart.
“No...,” he said aloud to himself.
He began to pace, uncertainty and fury in every step.
“Tell me, Isaac. Please.” I approached him. “Don’t do this to me. What’s wrong?”
“No, I can’t,” he said. “I won’t do it.” It seemed he was arguing with himself.
“You won’t do what?” I tried to take his hands, but he carefully pushed me away from him.
Much like he had done to me, I grabbed Isaac and pushed him into the wall. It barely stunned him, but he let me have my way by not rejecting it.
“You won’t do what, Isaac?” I had had enough of these broken sentences, these secretive little topics that somehow were different, yet connected to one another.
He shut his eyes in surrender. I heard Sebastian howl from deep inside the basement again, but nothing could break this moment. Nothing.
“I think it’s time you met my father,” Isaac said to me.
ABSENTLY, I STEPPED AWAY from him and my hands fell to my sides. He grabbed my coat from the foot of his bed and urged me to put it on.
“But—”
“No, Adria,” he said, placing his hands upon my cheeks, “it’s the only way you’ll understand any of it.”
What had I done? Did I push Isaac too far with my unwavering persistence? To most girls, meeting your boyfriend’s parents is a simple, possibly unnerving event. For me, it was something very different.
Isaac kissed me fully on the lips. “I need to do this,” he said and I could taste the sweetness of his breath. “You’ll be safe with me. Just trust me.”
“...but, why do I need my coat?” Between confusion and fear, there was no hope for me. I could hardly form a sentence anymore. All I wanted to do was stand my ground and refuse.
“He isn’t here,” Isaac revealed, zipping my coat up. “He’s in the mountains, far away from here.”
I just stood there, becoming more baffled by the second. Isaac did all the moving and talking for the both of us. He grabbed his car keys and then my hand.
He wasted no time. We were out the door and in his car in seconds.
“What about my uncle?” I said. “I can’t just leave.”
“We’ll be back by morning. You have your cell on you, right?”
“Yes,” I said, patting my leg pocket just to be sure.
The question was merely his way of assuring me that it was okay to leave, that the phone was my link to Beverlee.
The car trudged through the thick, undisturbed snow down the long driveway. It got easier to pass once we made it out onto the main road. Only silence filled the air around us and the sound of the heat blowing gently from the vents. Isaac watched straight ahead, focused and distressed. I could only imagine what he was thinking. No, honestly I couldn’t even do that. To pretend I had any clue as to the importance of what was going on was absurd.
I sat with my head against the car window. The world flew by outside. A blanket of glittering white surrounded by night. Houses dotted the side of the highway. An old factory rose high on the horizon, one-dimensional, like a silhouette against the night sky. Lights from 24-hour gas stations and the occasional oncoming car were the only source of light for miles. Mostly there was nothing but trees and asphalt, winding black roads with yellow lines moving eerily in my vision. I watched the stars a lot; hard not to when they are the only things that seemed attentive to me. Isaac was lost somewhere in his thoughts, so deeply I was afraid to disturb him.
At least an hour into the drive and the stars and the moon were the only light source left. Street and headlights were non-existent, like houses or anything else that signaled signs of modern life.
Finally, I fell asleep.
And I dreamt:
I was sitting at the edge of a creek with my shoes off and my feet in the water. Such a peaceful place, surrounded by spring. The smell of honeysuckle lingered in the air. I could sit here forever. Water trickled gracefully over smooth rocks in the creek’s bed. I reached out and let it run through my fingers. The wind blew through my hair, ruffling the bushes nearby. The sky was never bluer. Thick, cottony clouds drifted gradually in spots.
“Who are you waiting for?” said my mother, Rhonda.
She stood at the bank, her shoulder propped against a skinny tree.
I looked up. “No one,” I said.
She walked toward me, but I continued to watch my own reflection in the water.
A hand touched my hair. “It’s not safe for you out here, Dria.”
“It’s perfectly safe,” I said. “And I’m not waiting for anyone.”
“What are you waiting for then?”
“I...” I paused. I was about to say that I wasn’t waiting for anything, but then thought that maybe I was, after all. “I don’t know,” I said. “Do you?”
I glimpsed my mother’s reflection in the water too, smiling softly as she combed her fingers through my hair.
“Death,” she answered.
I stood and turned to face her, but my mother was gone.
Suddenly, the cool wind turned warm upon my shoulders. I looked to my left into the trees. Something was there. It felt like someone was watching me. My skin crawled all over....
“Adria.” I heard Isaac’s voice and I woke up. “Come on.”
Lifting my head, I peered out the window, expecting to see something else other than darkness and trees.
Still, nothing but darkness and trees and devouring white snow everywhere.
“Are we there?”
“Not quite,” he said. “Put your coat back on; you’re going to need it.”
I let the disturbing dream fade from my mind. Maybe some other time I would tell Isaac about it. Maybe not.
“Where are we?” I said, standing outside the car somewhere deep in the wilderness. I felt the cruel sting of cold air through my pants. My breath exhaled in puffs of smoke. Wherever we were, it was much colder here than in Hallowell. Even the snow was deeper; my boots covered by it.
Isaac stood at the opened car door, stuffing something inside my canvas backpack. I peered further into the car on my side, noticing the items as clothing. The car door slammed shut and he walked around, putting the backpack over my shoulders.
“Sugarloaf,” he answered. “Werewolves tend to stay deep in the mountains away from the cities. My father has an underground sanctuary about an hour from here. Can’t get to it by any road.”
“An hour?” I gazed harshly out at nothing but forest and snow. “We’re go
ing to walk an hour in this?” I was ready to take that stand now and refuse.
“Not exactly,” he said, pulling me along.
We left the car parked on the side of the road and entered the forest.
“Isaac?” I said; uncertainty laced my voice.
“We have to get enough away from the road,” he said, “just in case.”
“In case of what?” It was difficult to walk through the thick snow, much less keep up with his much faster pace.
He stopped next to a tree stump.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. He held both my hands in his. “You trust me not to hurt you and so I’m going to trust myself because of that.”
He didn’t have to explain further. I knew exactly what he was about to do. My heart sped up.
Isaac stepped backward and away from me. “Just don’t move, speak or walk towards me. Do you understand?”
I felt my head nod in quick, nervous jerking motions.
Isaac gave me one last loving gaze, finally stopping his backward trek many feet away from where I stood.
His whole body jerked forward, plunging him onto the frigid, white ground. He was on his hands and knees, his head rolled up and backward, the whites of his eyes churning black. The first fiendish growl ripped through the air, echoing off every looming tree. A burning scream forced from his lungs and his body began to thrash, throwing him onto his back where he writhed in agony.
Everything told me to back away further, every sense and emotion. But I had to be still. No movement. No words.
He leapt up then, his legs growing along with his massive body. His face contorted. I heard bones snapping, his flesh ripping. Birds sleeping in the trees above went wild and flapped their wings in a fleeing rage.
Isaac howled, standing feet taller in a dominating stance. His enormous, razor-sharp hands pulled backward. His snout heaving with hot, visible breath.
He howled again and then dropped his massive head and looked right at me. I felt the perilous graze of his eyes scan over me.
No movement. No words.
Towering on two feet, Isaac approached me, his much heavier footsteps crunching the snow loudly in his wake. I trust you, I thought. I trust you....
I was terrified.
I shut my eyes tight as he got closer, his form so enormous that I felt engulfed by its shadow. I shook all over, uncontrollably, feeling his hot breath moisten the skin on my face. He was right there, an inch from me. I could hear the saliva sloshing around in his mouth, the heavy breath from his nostrils.
Only when I heard a low guttural growl from deep in his chest did I slowly open my eyes. In a split second, Isaac hoisted me up and pressed me between his colossal chest and the fold of his arm.
I never saw it coming.
The whip of tree limbs thrashed against Isaac as he ran; his body protected mine. Branches and even rocks crushed hopelessly under his giant, beastly feet. Rock reduced to dust. He moved so fast, covering a distance I could never possibly imagine. I had to shut my stinging eyes. The battering wind was too cold; snow from the trees pierced my face like tiny shards of glass. If it weren’t for the warmth his body gave, I would have frozen to death.
I seized desperately to his fur, but the hold he had on me was all that I needed. His chest was rock hard; his arm I knew had a grip stronger than a boa constrictor. One slipup and Isaac could so easily crush me like brittle bone.
We moved so fast through the mountain that I was lucky to make out anything as we raced past. The sound of water thrashing against rocks was all that I heard distinctly. I opened my eyes a crack, just in time to see the ravine out ahead.
The trees ended and my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. Isaac leapt over the deep chasm and skimmed the waterfall. Only seconds felt like an eternity suspended in mid-air as I held my breath. But he covered the ravine flawlessly, landing hard on the other side. The whipping trees were back as we pressed on. One caught me, cutting a tiny slit along my cheekbone.
Finally, we stopped.
My eyes crept open as Isaac laid me on the cold ground. My hands and legs had fallen asleep. Tender ribs caught me off guard. He had held me tighter than I realized.
Isaac went to his knees and raised his head; pain reverberated in his screams. I covered my head in the snow with my arms, my breath hot in their confines. I couldn’t take it anymore, seeing him in such agony. I wondered why when I saw Alex Turn she didn’t show to be in as much pain as Isaac. She didn’t writhe on the floor of our den. Her body didn’t thrash about.
Isaac lay naked on his side, the snow around him melting from the excessive heat of his human body. I could even see the ground, wet and dark as though only touched by rain.
I ran over to him.
He reached for me, his finger running gently across the cut on my face.
“It’s nothing.” I pulled the backpack around and set it on the ground, rummaging through it. It was why he had packed the clothes from the car. “Isaac?” I said, handing him the long-sleeved shirt. “Why does it hurt you so much to Turn?”
“Because my concentration is filtered elsewhere.”
He lifted and sat in an upright position, one leg bent upward to shield his nakedness. “Usually the concentration is to keep the pain to a minimum,” he said, slipping on the shirt, “but making sure I don’t hurt you is more important.”
Next, he put on the jogging pants.
“What about shoes?”
“Sort of forgot the shoes,” he said. “The entrance is right there. I can get some later.”
I stood and turned, but saw nothing but the usual, darkness and trees.
“Right there between the rocks,” he said, pointing further. “Stay close.”
Not until we came right upon the mouth of the entrance did I see it. And not that I had technically forgotten why he brought me here, but suddenly it plagued my mind again.
Once we passed the threshold and stood between the towering boulders, Isaac could rest.
“Remember,” he said, taking my shoulders, “stay close to me. My father doesn’t know we’re here and really, I’m not supposed to be here.”
“What?” Worry twisted every muscle in my body. “But I thought—”
Isaac quickly placed his hand over my mouth. My voice had echoed down the dark passage. Wincing, I realized and he slowly moved his hand away. “I thought you were bringing me here to meet him?” I said in a whisper.
He whispered back, “I did....”
Isaac paused, looking upon me with warm eyes.
“Adria,” he said, “do you remember what I said to you about how in one way I would be like my father?”
I thought back to that day in Vaughn Woods, remembering everything he said to me almost word for word.
“Yes…you said you would ignore the need and the warning.”
He looked down and away from me. I couldn’t read his emotions at all; I couldn’t tell the difference between shameful and contemplative.
“I will ignore the need to protect you without being in your life,” he began, “but in another way I will not be like my father. I won’t....”
It seemed like a warning and a promise, which left me feeling disenchanted.
Isaac held my hand through the cold, dark tunnel under ground. Wind whistled through cracks in the ceiling until we were too far away from the entrance to hear it. The passage snaked left and right and then minutes later I felt like I was walking down a steep hill. I could see nothing, hardly even the white of my hands. But Isaac could see perfectly in the darkness. Without his guide, I would have tripped many times over rocks and uneven flooring. I briefly wished I had a flashlight; a primitive fiery torch would even have been welcome.
I was beginning to feel a gnawing pain through my wet socks. My feet were thawing. I noticed that the air was getting warmer, the rosy tip of my nose no longer chilled to the touch. I could inhale with my lips parted and not feel the sting of frigid air drying and scraping my throat anymore.
We were close.
We came upon the end of the tunnel. Warm firelight glowed against the cave walls in the short distance. Shadows moved upon them.
There were voices.
Isaac stopped about twenty feet away.
He turned to me; his hair looked darker in this light, his eyes, more fierce. “Don’t speak to anyone if we’re seen,” he whispered. “Let me do the talking.” He leaned in even further, his expression fixed. “Those here are not like me or Nathan. They’re soldiers, loyal to my father, but more beast than man.”
The mere fact that Isaac seemed worried at all put me completely on edge.
He led me around the first corner where the stone and dirt hallway turned into a V. The firelight source, I was surprised to see my wishful primitive torches mounted along the rock walls. I peered down the left tunnel as we passed quietly; guards were posted far off in the distance. I was glad Isaac took me in the other direction. Soon we came to a section of the hallway where the rock separated. Ducking halfway, we squeezed into a hidden niche. It was a good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic.
More voices reverberated through the space. Generous firelight brightened the blackness of the cave from a room just beyond. We crouched low behind a rock wall; a jagged oval-shaped opening allowed us to peer inside the room unseen. My fingers pressed against the moistness of my palms, sweating like mad from both the heat and my rattled nerves.
The room was vast, towered by rock and earth that had been carved perfectly over time. The ceiling shaped like a dome, which seemed to cradle the room beneath it. Three more entrances were visible, one just behind the long black table where a man sat at the head, a delicate woman in his lap. Guards, werewolves that wore the skin of men, stood at each entrance; swords sheathed to their backs. They were ridiculously tall even in their human form.
I was trembling. Isaac put his arm around my waist, pulling me gently toward him.
Six chairs were on each side of the table. Random food and what looked like old maps and yellowish-brown paper lay strewn across the tabletop. Thick, dusty books were stacked next to candelabras. I truly felt as though I was in the wrong time.