Chapter 24: Fogged Up Hearts:

  My finger re-traced the outline of the heart that had been drawn on the window a hundred times. It left a smudged and jagged heart, from my awkward angle I was sitting next to the window on the bench like sill. As my breath was blown back across the window from my warm exhale, it disappeared in a cloud of fog, and left only a subtle outline where I’d have to trace it yet again. 

  This, staring out the window all day, was my life for the past two days, maybe more if I bothered to remember back that far. The window seat had become my home, settled in the darkness of Tristan’s room, which I’m sure he wanted back by now. I didn’t care; all I wanted was to be left here to sulk. Learning that your going to possibly die wasn’t something you could just shake off, at least if you had my personality. I never realized how truly happy I had felt, even when discouraged or angry or depressed about my life before all this; but now it crashed down on me as it was all swept away. To be shoved under a rug.

  Downstairs there was always a constant source of sound. Whether it be conversation or someone rummaging through the seemingly never ending kitchen, it was always present, not even late into the night anymore. I tried so hard to block out the television that was in the living room in a slanted direction below me, but the sound of any comedians voice that Rayne loved to watch, grated my patience. Not only that, but the pack seemingly had practically moved into the pack house; more people coming in that leaving. Meeting after meeting had been held in the Alpha Office, the voices only dull and monotone; the room had been made sound proof so someone even with my hearing couldn’t hear their conversations clearly. But the endless way that there were outbursts and angry fights being held downstairs, made me certain that I had something to do with it all.

  The snow fell in a constant blanket, covering the ground by three inches at least. I had cracked the window open, but didn’t dare go outside to cool down my raging temperature. Snow still was awful, even if it didn’t feel as cold anymore. The blanket that someone had put over my shoulders last night when I fell asleep was puddle on the floor besides the seat I was in; beads of sweat had formed and fell down my neck over the night with that thing on.

  At least I was sitting at the bench by the window, the day before I had moved over all I had done was lay in the bed, but laying down with the heater beside the bed had become altogether too uncomfortable. My guess is it was Tristan’s or Rayne’s idea to flush me out of the room and get me up and out of there; but I just moved to the window, and they wouldn’t dare step close enough to me to reach over and shut it.

  I heard another outburst from the office downstairs, and something slam; like fisted hands against a table. Things were getting pretty heated in this argument. My face twisted into a growl, and I saw my fist flash before my eyes and hit the glass window with a sharp thud. My knuckles had met the glass, and rested there; motionless. But a thin sliver of a spider web line spiraled off from the connection my fist had made. I scowled at the window, reminding myself my strength was definitely greater than before.

  There was a faint buzz against my hip and I reached instinctively down to my pants pocket. Surprisingly my cell phone was still planted in the pocket, running out of battery, sure; but it was still there. I slid it open, and there was a bold announcement that said I had one voicemail. My eyebrows scrunched together, no one left me voice mails except Quinn and my Dad, and the number was very different from both of them. Sighing I re-called the voicemail.

  “You have one un-read message,” a monotone woman said, the operator, she announced the date which had been a day earlier.

  “Hey, Sammy!” It was definitely Quinn, her voice was overly chirpy and happy, that it made me flinch in my depressing attitude, “Sorry I couldn’t call you earlier, but I left my phone on my bed before we headed to the airport. I’m calling you from a payphone in Cabo, San Lucas, having an awesome time by the way, I really wish you could have left your schoolwork long enough to come up here with us, but I totally understand.” I had totally forgotten about the vacation her parents took us on each year for winter break, they weren’t big family Christmas people, and preferred to spend it in warmer climates than here in the bitter cold. “Oops, my times running out, stupid operator took up most of it, gotta go anyway. Talk to you when next week when we get back at school, Love ya,” she said, and there was a click and the line went dead.

  “You have zero un-read messages,” the woman said again before the voicemail hung up on me.

  The phone just collapsed from my hand, hitting the edge of the bench before clattering onto the wood floor. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away. I couldn’t speak how much I wished I could just call Quinn back and tell her everything; have her take a first class speed trip back here just to convince to me that everything would be okay. I didn’t even dare think about calling my father, if I did there was no chance at this point that’d I’d be able to not spill my whole secret. It was most definitely my secret now too. I was more than just a person who knew about it, I was it.

  My heart felt a thousand times heavier now; more than just heart break, it was much, much worse. The phone gave another gasping beep, before I heard it click off; dying on me. Well there would go any chance of being able to call them. That made feel slightly better, as if I didn’t trust myself, and the source of the problem had been removed from the equation.

  My stomach rumbled with hunger, and my tongue suddenly felt dry and my mouth stale. It was like the phone call had woken me up, the sound of a familiar voice that wasn’t in this world waking me up. If only it could all be a dream… I’d give anything for that.

  Tentively, I moved away from the window, the coolness disappearing off my skin immediately. My joints creaked and popped with each slow movement, from disuse. Wincing from the sound, I gently brought myself into a sitting position facing the room. It seemed so dark now when I looked directly at the room; already made to be dark with the black walls and dark stained wood floors, but the absence of the lights on or a lamp, made it bleak.

  ‘Just because you’re a creature of darkness doesn’t mean you have to live in it…’ I froze at the sound. That feral and intimidating voice that I seemed to know all too well.

  “Aren’t you supposed to disappear? I’m not about to give in, it’s not even a full moon...” I growled, but it ended up coming up like a croak due to the dryness that my throat had become.

  A low chuckle echoed in my head, ‘Dear, I never leave. But I’m not always as demanding as when the full moon comes, just note me as a… mentor of sorts’

  I groaned, the new voice in my head giving me a headache, “Fine, whatever,” I dismissed it submissively. My toes touched the cool wood planks of the floor, and that further encouraged me to step down from the bench. There was probably my permanent impression on the cushion; it was a wonder that there wasn’t an outline on the window just from my warm breath, of my face. Legs tingling I stood up and stumbled over to the bathroom, using my hand on the walls to keep me supported, and not collapsing from my double condition of my legs falling asleep.

  Flicking on the bathroom light, I blinked away the spots in my vision but stepped onto the tile defiantly. My gaze was caught on the mirror, a sharp intake of breath. This was worse than when I had woken up with the mark, that day that seemed so long ago, when in reality it was probably only a week.

  My face looked gaunt but flushed, a deep rose that drifted up from my cheeks up to my ears which were tinted a red that ran up the ridges of my ear. Lips that were pale pink, but more obvious than before. The mark on my neck had faded from the inflamed red, but had drifted into the blotchy red that looked like I had a major hickey, that surrounded a moon crescent incision of teeth that seemingly was a perfect half circle. Pushing away the bangs that hung over my eyes slightly, I tucked my hair behind my ear, glad that my hair color was still the same, if not slightly richer. But my eyes were a different story, the amber color gone from them in total. It was like they weren’t my eyes; a deep hazel that was tinged green.

  ‘But they are your eyes it’s my presence that changes them. So technically, they’re our eyes,’ she murmured, and I shook my head. I never asked for her to be in my head and change every aspect of the way I looked, it was a scary change.

  So instead of dreading my appearance in front of the mirror, I quickly stripped and turned the shower on to a furious fountain of cool water. It felt good being in an endless stream of the ice cold water, and I could slowly feel the heat dissipating from my skin, a relief that was more than welcome.

  Quickly I toweled myself off and wrapped it tightly around me before running out of the bathroom, so I wouldn’t be tempted to glance at my reflection again. Snatching up a shirt and pair of pants from Tristan’s dresser, I pulled them on. Way baggy around the waist and long in the legs, but nothing a little rolling up and tying in the back couldn’t help. For the first time I caught a glance at the clock, it was only eleven in the morning, my days must have melded so close together that I could have sworn it was later.

  Slipping out into the hallway, I ran immediately into someone coming down the hall away from the stairs. I had a weird feeling of déjà vu from when I ran into Tristan coming down the hall that first time I stayed over; but looking up I saw a totally different person in my way. With a totally different set of emotions that were tagged along with my memory of them, to go with them. It was the man from the meeting last week, the one who had argued animatedly against me being there, as a woman. I found my lip wanting to quirk up into a snarl, but I forced myself to stay calm and my face blank; luckily he snarled for me.

  “Excuse me,” I asked politely, sidestepping around him, to go towards the stairs. There was my peaceful example of walking away but he wasn’t that type of person obviously.

  Stepping in front of me purposefully he growled underneath his breath, “Do you realize all that you’ve done just by taking that wrong step?”

  “I have no idea what in the world you are talking about,” I lied; I knew exactly what he was talking about. True it was my fault that I stumbled upon this packs secret, but that had nothing to do with him not allowing me to walk down the stairs. Ronsen, that was his name. He was the younger looking guy in the group of older guys in the meetings, most likely he had some power beneath his seating or else he wouldn’t have dared spoken up to Tristan at the meeting the way he did. “Now let me through,” I said, my voice leaning in a more gruff direction.

  He chuckled darkly, “You’d be best just to get out of here while you can, or there will be harsher consequences for your actions, Samantha,” I froze, my muscles tensing up. Before I never would have had this kind of reaction to such words, I would have just nodded and moved on meekly. But now I could feel my muscles coiling, coming fully alive from their sedative state of sitting up in the room alone.

  “Did you just threaten me?” I snarled, my hands closing into fists.

  “Well it wasn’t a friendly welcome,” he remarked sarcastically, before stepping past me, and managing to set me off my feet as his shoulder knocked me into the wall. Before I knew it, I whipped back and shoved him in the back with enough force to cause him to stumble a couple footfalls. He turned around quickly, his eyes glinting darkly, “I wouldn’t mess with me, you are still a human in comparison to us. A mark and one change doesn’t instantly make you one of us, in fact I can’t see you being a threat,” he leaned in further, his face inches from mine and I could feel his breath coinciding with mine. It took all my willpower not to smash a hardened fist into the side of his face. “I quite frankly can’t see you making it past the first month,”

  And with that he was already walking down the hall, at a faster pace, as if he knew that I had about a fingertips worth of patience left with him and unlike him I wasn’t afraid to lay more than a couple punches into his pretty little face.

  “Everything alright?” another voice asked from behind me, by the stairs. I glanced over my shoulder to see Tristan, just coming up the stairs, one foot on the landing. It looked like he hadn’t seen the encounter, but no doubt had heard it. Smart of him not to go after Ronsen, at this point I would’ve snapped at him for trying to take away any independence I had. Who knew being a wolf came with such a possessive and self right trait? Mood swings had been a constant.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I murmured and turned around fully to head down the stairs with him.

  “At least you’re up, sleeping beauty,” he remarked sarcastically, “Took you long enough to let yourself down from that dark cave of a tower of yours. I’m really wanting my room back,”

  “You can have it,” I laughed, as we reached the bottom, “It reeks of your clothes anyway,” he rolled his eyes but didn’t comment back.

  Mrs. Everdeen was cooking up a storm in the kitchen, cleaning up from breakfast and already starting lunch. The amounts looked like enough to feed an army; made me wonder how many people were really staying in this house at the point in time. She looked up at us coming in the doorway, her hair misplaced out of her normally semi-neat bun, a piece of it hanging in front of her face. She blew it away, before smiling widely at us, “Samantha, darling, I’m sure your starving,” she didn’t mention a bit about me being up in Tristan’s room for so long, and for that I was appreciative.

  My stomach rumbled in its own response, “Sure, thanks,” I said, giving a weak smile, still not really over the hallway scuffle, just trying to relax the amount of adrenalin in my blood.

  “No problem, I’ll get to yours first, all these men in the house can wait a few extra minutes for their second meal of the day. They’d probably eat each other if I wasn’t here in the kitchen working non-stop,” she said pulling out sandwich ingredients.

  “How many people are staying here?” I asked Tristan in a soft voice as I was walking right behind him towards the table.

  “Oh, not that many, only a couple…” he said, and I could tell there was a tinge of a lie in his voice, but I decided not to push against it, every one of us had their reasons for not spilling their whole minds onto the table.

  A sandwich was produced before my face just as Rayne entered the room, a newspaper in hand as he yawned. “Oh, hey Sam,” he said casually, not sounding the least bit uncomfortable around me. At least the thought of me dying wasn’t affecting everyone terribly, and surprisingly I was happy for that, maybe I could forget it myself. ‘Well its not up to you though, so too bad,’ my inner wolf taunted in my mind as if we were quibbling over a piece of candy and the owner of it; not my life.

  I glanced around the table; no one looking at me directly, at least no one else could here the crazy voices inside my head. ‘It’s not up to you either, now shut up,’ I growled inside my head before turning my full attention towards my sandwich which was looking better and better by the second. And it tasted as good as it looked.

  But it was gone before I knew it and thankfully a second, and closely after that a third sandwich was given to me. Only when I was satisfied that I wasn’t going to pass out from hunger, I allowed myself to actually breathe or look up at the other table occupants. Another two guys had waltzed into the kitchen and were picking up plates of sandwiches and chips from the counter, which had been set out for them, waiting to be picked up.

  Someone nudged my arm making me look over at them, Tristan was getting up from the table, “Come on, we’re leaving,” he said matter-a-factly.

  I raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah, and where to, I’m not exactly in the condition to up and waltz out to do something random,”

  “Too bad, you too Blondie,” Tristan said, indicating to Rayne, who sighed in an over exaggerated manner, but got up from the table also. Tristan pulled me up to my feet and tugged me away from the kitchen, Mrs. Everdeen smiling in an almost sad tone as we left.

  “No seriously, I don’t want to go anywhere,” I protested, trying to pull my arm from Tristan’s grip but instead I was rewarded with Rayne grabbing my other arm and being picked up off my feet. My feet dangled in the air as both boys carried me towards the door, I grumbled all the way, feeling very off balance being not being able to cross my arms in defiance or plant my feet into the ground to try and provide friction against the unwelcome movement. “I’m not kidding in any sense, Tristan. I’m not in the mood to do anything,”

  Shoes were put on my feet, as if I was a little kid, which was pretty accurate since I was throwing a temper tantrum like one. “Come on Sammy, put some effort into this protesting, your getting so boring lately,” Rayne joked, something I expected Tristan to say, but I guess they were finally wearing off on one another.

  I growled, and attempted to kick Tristan in the shin, but he just shifted his hold on my arm and my leg swatted at the empty air in front of where his leg would be stepping in the next second.

  Being stuck in the middle of them in the truck before I knew it, I finally was able to cross my arms, but my anger had slightly dissipated, leaving me wondering what in the world they were planning on doing to me. This absurd guy, who was supposedly my mate, ‘He is’ and his brother, must have been out of their minds. Couldn’t they see or hear exactly that I didn’t have all that much time left if what Chelsea had said was accurate.

  I didn’t speak to either of them during the car trip, trying to prove a useless point that I wasn’t okay with this, and I’d probably be better off back lounging in Tristan’s room sifting through my mind and memories than here, and I would be if I had the strength to fight them off. What was werewolf strength good for if I still didn’t have a chance when up against Tristan?

  As usual, most of anything that was interesting was at least a half hour away from town and by then my arms were still crossed across my chest, but slack and loose. We pulled into a parking lot that I didn’t recognize until I read the sign in front of the large building—“Go-Carting?” I ask incrudeusely, my mouth dropped open.

  “Of course,” Tristan shrugs; I’d shoot him daggers with my eyes if I had the nerve to look at him without tearing his own eyes out.

  Rayne smiles and shakes his head as if he knows this seems totally out of character, but gets out and down from the truck anyway. It’s obvious now that Tristan has no regard for how I am feeling. ‘Mood swings again…’ inner wolf chirps in and I want to slug her too.

  “Come on, I bet I can beat you,” Tristan says getting down from the cab and offering me a hand to help me down. I stare at his hand for a few moments, my mind trying to decide between going with him or just staying here like the stubborn person I am. ‘It would do you good; he has your best interests at heart, Sam. You’ve been thinking and sitting around for the past—who knows how really long. Go with him…’ On normal circumstances I would have loved to prove her—or anyone else wrong with that statement. But it sounded a bit good at the moment, and despite most of my thoughts, I grasped his hand.

  The lines were all too long and the laser tag was crowded beyond belief. It was a wonder why people came to places like this; it was utter chaos to the extreme. A group of screaming kids ran past us as we walked in the door, heading towards the laser tag room, guns held high in the air like weapons of war. My wide eyes followed them across our path “Now seriously, we can turn back anytime,” I offered them, half-heartedly, but of course I was shot down by both brothers, probably excited to get on the go-karts. 

  It was all indoors, the whole sha-bam. The track that the go-karts were placed on was a huge and winding road that travelled throughout the whole room, only leaving space for people to cross to the other building where I could see the flashing lights of an arcade. Only the Everdeen brother’s would think to bring a depressed person here…

  I was tugged into the line for them, sandwiched in between Rayne and Tristan, feeling quite insignificant between two people a good half foot taller. They were watching the cars with a sort of child-like amazement, “You two look like nerds, you can drive real cars, I don’t see the point in wanting to drive a miniature version,” I said with a casual eye roll.

  Tristan’s arm went around my shoulder, the heat difference between us not so drastic anymore, I felt like a furnace in here. His head dropped down to beside my ear, whispering, “Come on Sam, have a little fun. It’s not that bad,” then he kissed my cheek.

  Yep, definitely not the same Tristan I knew, but my face lit up like a Christmas tree anyway, a bright red of embarrassment, especially the one heated spot where his lips had been.

  The line slowly moved forward another group of children messing around and going underneath all the ropes that marked the lines for the carting; only to be told that they need to leave the area or go to the back of line. Finally, we were the ones let through to the lane where you boarded the cars. Rayne took the one up front, looking smug at us as he did so, then there was the tri-some of teenagers who all took their own carts and the lady with her six year old son taking the double seater; the little boy bouncing in his seat excitedly.

  “I’ll just go on the next ride,” I started to make an excuse and walk out of the area, but Tristan grinned and caught my wrist before I could take a step back.

  “Nope, quite frankly I don’t trust you. Get in,” he said, and I looked down at the last double-seater. Sighing I scrambled into the passengers side of the little cart, sliding my legs underneath the hood of the car. Tristan sat down beside me, the compartment all of a sudden becoming very snug. He reached over to strap the seat belt over both of us.

  I looked at him, at his face which was hinted with a smile, but otherwise thoughtful and in depth as always.

  The guy in charge of the track came around in front of us checking all the seatbelts to make sure they were secure.

  “Why’d you bring me here, Tristan?” I asked, looking up at him very seriously, “You can’t have seriously forgotten what Chelsea said,”

  He turned his head slightly, looking me in the eye, his silver ones holding my own, reflecting off to where I could see the un-natural hazel tint to them. The answer seemed to take a lifetime to get out of him and the person came over the speaker announcing the long list of rules and regulations to us.

  “Sam. This isn’t the end, and I know it,” he said in all seriousness, equally matching mine, all the child-like playfulness gone in the excitement of the place. His black hair hung over his forehead, as loose curled and bouncy as ever, made me want to run my hands through it again. But they stayed clasped in my lap, winding over one another.

  “You can’t possibly know that…” I said my voice cracking.

  “I do—there’s no reason I can’t. Whatever happened between us, I’m glad it did, I know that it’s meant to be. Samantha you are my—“ but his voice was cut off by the sound of the starting horn and the cars started and whatever he had planned on saying was drowned out by all the other cars.

  But before he could place his foot on the gas I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. It was one of those rare times when I caught him surprised, instead of the other way around, and I smiled against his lips. Short and sweet, it was over and he smiled before starting after everyone else.