Chapter Seventeen
The Brother
I came to slowly; my mind was groggy, filled with cotton. I didn't know where I was or what was happening. All I could do was lie still, my breathing was labored, and I couldn't move. The tug of unconsciousness started to pull me back under, until I felt a sharp searing pain in my chest. It felt like my insides were on fire. I heard a moan that sounded far away. As my mind cleared I realized it was me that made the noise.
"I wouldn't move if I were you." An unfamiliar male voice said, it was deep with a hint of an accent. Irish maybe?
Even with my groggy brain and aching body, I caught the whiff of werewolf. Another one! I shot up into a sitting position and opened my heavy eyelids. Instantly the pain in my chest throbbed, sending me back down onto what? Where was I? I glanced around now that my eyes were open, and saw the tan walls of my own bedroom filled with black and white photos of historical homes. I glanced down and saw my chest was bare except for a large white bandage wrapped around my torso.
I followed the offending scent, and saw a man who appeared to be around my age, maybe a few years older. But of course with my kind, appearance can be deceiving.
Even though he was sitting on a chair next to the bed, I could tell he was tall, even more so than I. He was wearing a worn denim cap, with strands of auburn hair sticking out from under it. His grey eyes were full of concern as he looked me over. "Who are you?" I choked out, my voice barely audible.
He moved closer and held a cold cloth to my forehead. I felt relief instantly, even though I didn't realize I was burning up. "The name is Joseph, but you can call me Joe. I came here looking for you, and I found you on the floor, dying. You were shot with a silver bullet. It was lodged just above your heart. I had a heck of a time getting it out. Do you know who did this to you?"
Now the memory was coming back, sitting on the couch with Sadie, eating ice cream, and the noise. And then…"Rowan," I whispered his name.
"Who?" he asked, his interest peaking.
"He's a werewolf that I stopped from killing a young girl, and ever since then he's been intent on making me suffer, by killing people I love. He killed my father in the twenties. And now…Sadie." Fear gripped my heart, turning it cold. Not Sadie, she's my only family. "Where is she? Is she okay?" I cried, desperate to hear that she was lying on the couch still munching on her vanilla ice cream.
He closed his eyes, his lips pressed into a line. "I'm sorry friend. She's gone. The bullet pierced her heart. We werewolves heal fast, but if the heart is shattered, there's nothing to be done."
I felt pain in my chest again but this time, it wasn't physical. I finally found a person to be close to after so many years of distancing myself from others, and that lunatic took her away from me. Rage filled my entire being, leaving just one thought. "I really want to kill him," I whispered.
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms in front of him casually. "I don't blame you, but you'll need some silver bullets for that, and they are not easy to come by."
I shook my head, not wanting to hear how hard it would be to get what I wanted. It didn't matter how difficult it was to achieve my goal. I would do whatever it took to see it through. The only thoughts in my head were that Rowan must die.
"I'm sorry friend. It sounds like you've had a bad lot since my sister turned you."
My head spun to face him, making me a little dizzy. "What did you say?"
His hand stretched out and I placed mine into it. He shook it quickly. "The name is Joseph Burns, and I'm Charlotte's brother." He pulled his hand back as I processed what he had said. "Before she bit you, she turned me. But don't worry, I hate the witch." I laughed, and regretted it immediately. The pain was unbearable. "Easy now." He soothed, his hands steadying me. "She told me what she did to you, and I had to make sure you were okay. I don't agree with how she lives."
I liked him instantly. Our hate for his sister gave us a bond. "Where is Sadie?" I asked, my voice sounding a little bit stronger.
"I buried her out back for now. If you want something else for her we can move her."
The image of her family visiting an empty urn came to mind. The best thing for her was to have her cremated and brought back to where she belonged. I would also need to contact Miles, the werewolf that had turned her. If he cared for her half as much as I did, he would want to know. Maybe he could even help me in my quest to avenge her death.
"How long have I been out?" My mouth felt like a paste covered the entire inside of it. "Could I have some water?" I barely got the words out when a glass appeared in front of me. He helped me sit up so I didn't spill any.
"You've been out a day. I don't know how long the silver was inside you, but it was starting to spread. I got the bullet out, but your body needs to extract what remains. That’s why you are sweating."
"How do you know all this?"
He pulled the sleeve of his faded denim shirt up, exposing a small circular scar. "Ten years ago, I got into a bit of a brawl, at a pub. You don't mess with werewolves in Ireland."
My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten in over a day. Panic began to bubble inside me. No good would come if I was hungry.
"I made some soup. I'll be right back." He stood up and headed for the doorway, where he quickly turned. "By the way, you've had a few calls about Riley House. A lady by the name of Marjorie said that people are waiting." Since he didn't understand Marjorie's words, he shrugged his shoulders before he disappeared into the hallway.
Life was going on around me, even though Sadie was dead, and I felt like I was. The world didn't care that I was in pain and grieving a beloved friend. I was needed and that was all that mattered. I had to get better so I could continue with Riley House. Sadie would have wanted it that way.
Joe's scent along with his footsteps woke me from sleep. I hadn't even realized I had drifted off again. I was just so tired. It was difficult to keep my eyes open. When he stepped into the room, carrying a tray laden with more water, bread, and a large bowl of soup, the scent of chicken and vegetables almost made me drool. He placed the tray on my lap and handed me a spoon. I dove in straight away, and I moaned in appreciation when I swallowed. I couldn't remember being so famished.
"So, Nathaniel, do you know where a werewolf can find some work around here?" Joe asked, his Irish brogue getting thicker the more he spoke.
"Why," I took a break between bites to say. "Are you staying?"
"Yes, Ireland has nothing left for me. Charlotte found me there a few months ago and mentioned you. Told me she killed the one you loved and accidentally turned you. I felt some responsibility because I had sent her away just before you met her. I wasn't able to live the way she did anymore and I told her I never wanted to see her again. If I hadn't done that she wouldn't have ruined your life."
Guilt and self loathing were two emotions I was extremely familiar with. It made me feel even more of a bond with this Irishman. "It's not your fault. I've learned that you cannot blame yourself for other people's actions."
He nodded, his grey eyes filled with emotion, and then he shook his head, and grinned. "Enough of that, I need a job."
"Well, I may be able to help you with that." As he was speaking, an idea formed in my mind. With my new goal to open Riley House and help run it, I wouldn't be able to do my previous job, unless I trained a replacement. And hadn't I thought it was the perfect job for a werewolf? I stared at him; a smile grew on my face.
"What?" he asked, looking a little bit worried?