She wasn’t sure if it was because she was near a cute boy that enjoyed kissing her or if she was simply beyond angry. None of that mattered when she looked in his caring gold eyes and saw no judgment, only compassion. She guessed that myth about angels was true. And if she let herself relax in his arms she knew she would break down. He had no way of understanding, yet he seemed to care enough to try and empathize.
“I’m sure your siblings will be made aware of their DNA in a rather quick manner now. You’ve become quite a trail blazer in your family.” He stated in a failed attempt to break up the uncomfortable silence that fell between them. His humor was misplaced and the look on her face made that crystal clear, she wasn’t amused.
"I would hardly call myself a trailblazer. I was simply tired of waiting for the authorities to take some action in my parents’ case. The deed is done now. It is what it is. I am what I am.”
He slipped a blonde curl that came loose from her ponytail in the wind behind her ear. “What do you mean you caused their deaths?”
As fast as she found ease in his arms she also found unease. Rebecca bit her lower lip and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” Tears threatened to fall as they pricked the back of her eyes. She lowered her head to hide the pain.
With a gentle finger under her chin, he raised her eyes to meet his own. “It does.” His eyes searched her face. It was like he could read her soul, and while some people who read romance novels may think that’s wonderful, Rebecca could honestly say it was uncomfortable and difficult. No one likes to be that exposed in front of another person.
Despite her better judgment the words slipped from her mouth. "They wouldn’t have been out driving on the streets that night if it hadn’t been for me. I wanted to come home from the sleepover. I threw a fit and finally they agreed to come and get us. It’s my fault they’re dead.” A single tear fell past the barrier that she refused to let down. It rolled down her cheek tickling as it went. The cool breeze outside chilled its path down her face which only served as a bitter reminder that she allowed herself to be weak for just a moment. Something she swore she wouldn’t allow to happen since the day they died. It was her weakness that killed them; it would be her strength that avenged them.
“You need to listen to me very carefully, Becca.” His eyes were so intent she couldn’t pull hers away even if she wanted to; it was like a magnetic force kept them connected. “Nothing about your parents’ death is your fault. Do you understand?”
She shook her head. “You can’t know that.”
“How old were you when they died?” His eyes searched hers again.
“I don’t want to discuss this with you.” She tried to turn away.
He shook her gently. “How old were you when this happened?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She wanted to escape his arms, despite the safety they allowed her to feel. She needed to escape his eyes and the nakedness they made her feel.
“Answer me, Rebecca.” It was a command, even though his voice was barely above a whisper. It was a simple command; one she could not refuse.
“Seven! And my cry-baby antics made them leave the house that night making them prime targets for the jacking. Gods only know how long they sat in the car bleeding to death. If I hadn’t begged them to come and get us from that sleepover none of this would’ve happened.” Tears fell down her face, making her angry. She was not a girl who cried. She always held her emotions in check, but something about this man made her weak and she did not like that.
He smiled sadly, which only made the tears fall more. She hated that look of compassion. She wanted to push him away. Instead, he simply pulled her closer and hugged her while the tears fell and her body shook. It seemed like forever before she could pull herself together. When she did, he was the first to speak.
“You know it’s not your fault. Deep down you know you didn’t put the gun in the criminal’s hands. You didn’t create this horrible tragedy; you only played a part in it happening. In truth, we all have a certain number of years on this earth. Well, humans at least. When that time is up, it’s up. The one thing we cannot escape is death unless you have some supernatural means by which to escape. But those are rare. Even werewolves don’t live forever.”
Rebecca chuckled softly at his strange logic; it didn't fix her anger at her parents’ death. It simply gave her a release to feel something other than sadness. “Who would want to?”
“Even those given immortality will tell you eventually that they wished they didn’t have it.” He pushed that stray strand of hair behind her ears and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her face.
She leaned back in his arms so she could see his face. It was ruggedly handsome in the daylight, but even more so in the darkness, lit only by the light of the moon overhead. He was very good-looking, compassionate and wise. He deserves better than someone so broken. She sighed. “I should really get inside and to bed.”
“Okay. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for training. How does ten in the morning sound?”
She laughed as she started heading back into the house, “you really are sure of yourself.” But in truth she knew she needed training to survive in this world and he was offering to help. How could she refuse? "I usually run about nine, do you want to join me?"
“Sure, see you then.”
And with that he hopped on his bike and drove off. She watched as the night simply swallowed him up. He irritated her but she was thankful for the help. Besides, she liked so much about him; maybe she could live with that irritation.
‘Training should be done with the pack, not outsiders.’ The voice of her wolf whispered in her mind.
"And I’ll start that training when I actually have a pack." Rebecca reminded the wolf.
She shivered as she reached for the door handle. It was that distinct feeling that someone was watching her, again. Someone that posed enough of a threat that the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood up in warning. She turned on her heel and used her supernatural wolf sight to scope out the area from all directions. Nothing looked out of place in their quiet suburb. It was late and all the houses were dark with the exception of foot lighting and a few scattered street lamps. The rest of the night was lit by the silver moon, but none of that mattered because night vision was one of the perks of being a wolf.
The wind picked up and blew through her blonde waves. It only served to intensify her nervousness and make her more alert. But as she looked around she saw nothing. Just as she was about to turn to go inside, a movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Something, no someone was on the neighbor’s roof. One minute that person was there and the next he was gone. She began to walk down the sidewalk towards the stranger’s location but was stopped by a familiar voice.
“Rebecca, is everything okay?” It was her brother, Hunter. She’d forgotten he was outside talking to the neighbor. He must have seen her walk past him. Natalia was gone and he was standing there with a concerned look on his face. When she didn’t answer him, he continued, “sis?”
Her instinct told her to follow the person who was watching them on the roof but her heart told her to get Hunter inside to safety. He wasn’t a part of this world and he would not be able to protect himself. She was learning very quickly, and she was having difficulty protecting herself, let alone looking after him. Surely, whoever was following her tonight would be following her tomorrow.
“Sure,” She plastered on a fake smile. “What are you still doing outside? Come on we have an early day tomorrow.” And with that, they went inside.
Chapter Nine
~"Excellence is an art won by training and habituation. We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”
~Aristotle
Rebecca
The house was suspiciously quiet before Lucky arrived to run with her the following morning. It was normal for Savvy and Hunter to sleep through the morning, but grandmother was often up before Rebecca. Today, however, Grandma Catherine was still behind her bedroom door, and Becca had a strange feeling that was primarily because of her.
She could hear a motorcycle as it barreled down the block. She could smell his vanilla, cinnamon, and clove scent mingled with smog and gas when he pulled up outside her house. The strange combination of scents resulted in sweetness. She did all of this from her kitchen as she sipped the remaining drops of coffee from her mug. The more she used her enhanced senses the stronger they got.
But the sight of Lucky was far better than the scents and sounds. He looked deliciously handsome in the early morning sun. It was a rare person who could go from being sexy in jeans and leather jacket to irresistible in yoga pants and a t-shirt, but Lucky was one of those rare people. His golden blonde wavy hair and sun kissed skin was accented by the brown hues of his outfit. His physique was truly impressive but when she found herself caught up in his smile and the light in his eyes she felt weak in the knees. His eyes were lighter than normal in daylight; gone were the amber hues, now they looked like liquid gold.
"Are you ready to run?" Rebecca grinned as she bolted out the door past him and started up the street. It was a passive aggressive way of breaking the sexual tension that seemed to blossom between them when they locked eyes.
Her enjoyment and laughter were short-lived as he quickly caught up to her and eased into a comfortable stride next to her. "So how was your night?" He asked cordially, not that they didn’t just see each other a few hours ago, but it was a good way to break the ice.
Rebecca glared at him as she continued her brisk pace down the block. Instead of answering his question she offered, "I have been running all my life, physically and metaphorically. How is it that you make it look so easy?"
As she waited for his answer she took a moment to enjoy the sound of the ground being crushed beneath her feet, and the smell of breakfast meats surfacing from the houses on the block. The Foster's were having ham. The Lancaster's were eating bacon. The Jacobs' smelled of breakfast steak and the Corrales' had the scent of meat and green chilies. The smells were intoxicating and gave her the smallest peek into their households.
"I, too, have been running all my life, only I’ve been running toward things, not away from them." He gave her a knowing look.
"Yeah? Like what?" Rebecca turned the corner and eased them onto the subdivision’s park path which was generally full of early morning bicyclers, not runners. This morning the path and park were eerily empty.
He followed. "Battles." He watched her as he gauged her response. If he was looking for a reaction he got nothing. She simply kept running and smiling. "I’m a warrior, Rebecca. Its how I was raised and all I know. It seems like I’ve been running towards that destiny since I was a young boy."
"And how long have you been running?" She examined him. The surprise he held in his eyes for only a moment faded quickly. He must have expected a different reaction when he told her about his love affair with battles. The poor guy probably had some difficult relationships in the past when this topic came up.
"Is that your coy way of asking my age?" He grinned as he looked down at her. Being at least five inches taller than her made looking down natural and easy. It was disconcerting since she was considered above average in female height. When her only answer was a shy grin he went on, "I’m the same age as you and I’ve been fighting since I was ten."
That got Rebecca to stop, "Ten?"
He went a few feet ahead of her until he noticed she had stopped. The short time he took to circle back allowed her a few moments to catch her breath.
Sadness crossed his face. "Our world is different, Becca. Most witches are taught spells the moment they can talk and they’re practicing magic in the crib. Werewolves are taught to hunt immediately after the change starts. Vampires are expected to take blood from a human the moment they are reborn or they will die. We live in a world of predators. Ten was actually late for my kind. I was supposed to be training the moment I could lift a weapon.” He glanced around, and Rebecca found herself wondering if he noticed the emptiness of the park, too. “Nephilim are taught to use anything and everything around them as a weapon."
"What would you use here?" She asked, curious about his world and wanting to hear about his past experiences.
"You mean aside from the ankle knife on my left leg or the gun holstered in the small of my back? Maybe I would choose to use the brass knuckles on my keychain or perhaps the whip wrapped around my leg?" He lifted his pant leg to show her. There was a braided cord wrapped around his leg starting from his ankle to his knee.
"That has to be uncomfortable." The words escaped her mouth before she could reign them back in. Her eyes lingered a little longer than necessary on the muscular shape of his leg. She shook her head to clear it and managed a weak smile. "I meant what would you use here if you were not armed from head to toe?" She had to admit the ridiculousness of the situation. A month ago the most dangerous weapon she and her friends would have thought of would be the knives in the wooden block in the kitchen. Now she was being exposed to whips, guns, and brass knuckles. It truly was a different world she was living in now.
"Ah, well there are heavy duty tree branches on that oak." He moved closer as he pointed to their left. "The chains on the swings over there would be great weapons, connected or not."
A picture of Lucky strangling her stalker with swing chains entered her mind and she chased it away as quickly as possible. Death was, it seemed, always around her. Now she was simply learning more ways to cause it.