Phaedra was so stunned by Michael’s allegation that her body fluttered. Part of it turned to mist, while the other part clung to its more solid shape. “That is so not true.”
Gleeful, Michael wanted to jump up and down, but curtailed his excitement by shoving his hands into his pants pockets and forcing his body to remain still. “You sound more like Fritz’s ex than you do some ancient paranormal creature.”
Just as she knew everything there was to know about Michael, he knew all about her. Phaedra couldn’t lie to him, and what made her different than most efemeras was that she didn’t want to. She considered him her friend. “I miss Fritz,” she confessed. “Actually I miss what we could have shared.
We never really got to any of the good stuff.”
Now this was the type of conversation Michael wanted to have. “Then stay! Pick up where you left off!” Michael shouted. “Guaranteed this thing Fritz has for Ruby is totally a rebound because he’s never gotten over you.”
Another breeze, another wave of sweet emotion. It was all beginning to be too much to bear. As much as Phaedra loved this place, as much as she missed being a part of Michael’s life, seeing Fritz every day, living as a teenage girl, that chapter of her existence was over. “I do miss Double A more than I thought possible,” she said.
“Then that settles it!” Michael declared. “We’ll make up some excuse that your parents were sick and you had to leave school... .”
A few more words tumbled out of Michael’s mouth before he realized Phaedra was holding up her hand in front of his face as if to block the sound. She couldn’t hear about the possibility of returning to the life she had almost chosen because it was the life that she had given up. She had made her choice, and she had to stick to it. As much as she looked the part, she wasn’t a teenager who could flit from one decision to the next just because she had changed her mind; where she came from things didn’t work that way. “I’m sorry, Michael,” Phaedra said, her words as faint as her appearance, “I gave up my chance to ever be human, and I can’t stay here as what I really am.”
Before Michael could protest or debate the reasons why her decision was dumb and foolish and just had to be discounted, he saw her body disappear before his eyes. Her uniform, her curls, her sweet face, gone and replaced with a soft mist of smoke that undulated, rippled in midair until it turned into a column of gray fog. As the fog rose to travel to heights Michael could never imagine visiting he heard Phaedra’s voice for one last time. “Remember what I said. Do not trust Ruby; she isn’t what she seems.”
In spite of the seriousness of Phaedra’s tone and the urgency of her message, Michael couldn’t resist one final comeback. “Yeah right, like anyone in this place is what they seem!”
An odd smell washed over him, and Michael thought Phaedra was answering him with some weird, cosmic joke. But then he remembered that the girl really wasn’t one to play tricks. No, this smell was earthbound, and it was foul and repugnant. Not interested in trying to solve another puzzle, Michael walked in the opposite direction of the unpleasant odor, leaving the task of uncovering its origin for someone else.
Nakano winced as he inhaled something equally repulsive. Compelled to move toward the smell, he stopped in his tracks when he saw the source, his mind bombarded by a flood of questions. Why won’t those bloody white roses just die? What the hell are they doing in The Forest and not clinging to the walls of St. Joshua’s where they belong? And why is Brania sleeping on the dirt surrounded by a circle of those ugly things?
Kneeling down next to her, Nakano’s knee squashed one of the roses, burying it into the earth, its delicate, stark-white petals ripped from its stem. He didn’t even have to speak Brania’s name and she woke up. Like a wild animal disturbed from a deep slumber, Brania clawed at the dirt, her arms and legs acting without thought, only purpose, to retreat and put space between herself and this intruder.
When her eyes focused she realized her intruder was unexpected, but harmless. “Nakano, what are you doing here?”
“Crikey, Brania, I could ask you the same question,” he replied. “Did I, um, interrupt some dodgy fertility ceremony or something?”
Ignoring Kano, Brania scoured the land and her memory for some clue as to what she was doing in The Forest or why she had been sleeping inside a circle of white roses. She knew they held some unknown significance and they had not been placed there arbitrarily. Whoever did this to her did so for a reason.
The last thing she remembered was walking in the woods, hungry, in search of a meal, the silhouette of a girl in the distance. Brania closed her eyes and tried to envision what had happened next, but her mind was empty; all she saw was black. When she opened her eyes, she was stung by how white the roses were, almost blinding, not natural, which meant whatever had happened to her, whatever had taken place here was not going to be remembered simply by willing her mind to concentrate. Best to use the situation, as bewildering as it might be, to her advantage. “Thank you, Kano,” Brania said, trying to sound like a confused victim. “I don’t know what happened, but it looks like you came to my rescue.”
Nakano was also thankful, thankful that the darkness hid his face from Brania so she didn’t see him blush. “It was ... nothing,” he stammered. “But sure ... You’re welcome.”
Walking toward him, making sure not to step on any of the roses, Brania grabbed Nakano’s hand. “I owe you my life,” she stated. “We both know The Forest is not always a safe place.”
An image of Penry’s lifeless body jammed itself into Nakano’s mind, and he shook involuntarily.
“Thank you again,” she replied. “How did you come about this information?”
“Jean-Paul asked me where you were, I guess because he knows that we’re friends,” Nakano explained.
Thankful that the darkness concealed the true nature behind her smile, Brania replied, “Indeed we are.”
The color of his cheeks grew a deeper shade of red, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they had been standing in the light of day. Brania wouldn’t make fun of him; she was his friend. “He said David wants to see you,” Kano continued. “He didn’t say why, but you should be careful, because, well, you know David better than anyone.”
That was true. Brania knew her father better than anyone. So she knew he had deliberately sent Jean-Paul as a messenger, knowing that Nakano wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to run right to her.
She also knew that he expected her to remain stubborn and stay in hiding, making him feel as if he had the upper hand. It was time to prove her father wrong. “Thank you for everything, Kano, but you should go home now,” Brania said. “I need to teach my father a lesson.”
A few minutes later when Brania stumbled upon the three men huddled over the massive buck, she thought it was the perfect illustration of why you should never turn your back on your enemy. David, Jean-Paul, and Joubert were all crouched on the ground, their fangs buried deep within the animal’s flesh, each filling their bodies with as much animal blood as possible, unaware that they were being watched. “Looks like a feast fit for a king’s fools,” Brania declared.
Only David didn’t jump at the interruption. He continued to drink the buck’s tasty fluid until his hunger was quenched. He then took out a monogrammed handkerchief, the color of merlot, from the breast pocket of his jacket and wiped his mouth clean before turning around to acknowledge his daughter’s presence. “Jean-Paul, you didn’t tell me that Brania would be joining us.”
Brania loved watching her brother fidget. Using her enhanced vision she could actually see the confusion spread over his face as he pondered how to handle his dilemma. Hmm, she thought she would save his pretty, little French head from having to make a choice. “Jean-Paul had no idea I would be crashing your party,” she said. “He failed at the task you gave him.”
Sitting on top of the now-dead buck, David crossed his legs at the ankles as if he were sitting on an antique settee. “Really?” he replied. “I told him that I wished to talk to you and here we are, talking.”
Not moving from her vantage point of a small hill a few feet above the men, Brania cocked her head to the side. “Spin it any way you like, Father. Your son isn’t the reason I’m here; Nakano is,” she corrected. “He’s the one
