The Vaga (17 page)

He shakes his head and smiles. ‘No.’

Now I know where Sam gets his sense of humour from—Taqôq Wiyon. ‘Funny.’

He laughs softly and says, ‘Thank you again. You didn’t have to bring me here but you did, and I’m grateful, Ellie.’

‘Taqôq Wiyon’s the one who saved you. I just carried you here.’

‘Still…’

Clearing my throat I say, ‘So are you ready to go back?’

His expression changes and his aura projects concern. ‘Did you tell Phoebe?’

‘No, and it’s not for lack of trying. I’m just a really bad liar, Sam.’

‘So what
did
you tell her then?’ he asks.

‘Uh…it wasn’t
what
I told her exactly.’

He raises his eyebrows.

‘It was more that I cast a spell that put her to sleep.’

His expression remains serious for a second, but then all of a sudden he throws his head back and laughs.

Did I miss something? My hands go to my hips. ‘What’s so bloody funny?’ I demand.

He calms down, still smiling like an idiot. ‘You are
so
dead!’

Gulping loudly I realise he could be right. Phoebe is a powerhouse at times, and she won’t be happy about what I did.

Sam puts his hand on my shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll smooth the waters. Although you’ve made it a little trickier for me now.’

He moves over to a wooden box that is situated near the fire pit and pulls out a black t-shirt. As he throws it over his head I see the thick jagged line of the scar that trails the length of his back.

I intake a sharp breath and he looks back over his shoulder. ‘That bad?’

Shaking my head I say, ‘No, not really.’

He finishes putting the shirt on. ‘Could be worse.’ He shrugs.

‘Worse?! You were nearly killed, Sam. And that…that
thing
is the reason. How are you not angry right now?’

He walks towards me gracefully, his demeanour calm and soothing. ‘It’s who I am, Ellie. I’ve been charged with this curse…gift…whatever you want to call it, and so I know what that could mean. Our time here is always limited. Life is a journey.’

My mouth hangs open in surprise. ‘Well that doesn’t mean I have to be okay with it.’

He shrugs as he walks past me. ‘That’s your choice.’

Choice
?!

I could slap him. I storm out after him and stop dead when I see him talking with his grandfather. Their heads are bent towards one another with their foreheads touching, and it looks like Taqôq Wiyon is saying a prayer.

He cups Sam’s face gently and whispers, ‘May the Great Spirit of our Ancestors carry you on the four winds my son.’

My son? Julian’s last memory returns and those two words ripple through me. There’s a link, I know it. Could the man who sent the text be the same man who raised him?

At first I thought that “my son” was just a religious term, but now I think that if he literally meant
my son
then that would mean that the man who took Julian under his wing when his parents died is a…
Dominus
.

A Dominus choosing to help me from the upper
echelons of the Puritans seems so beyond any sort of logical explanation, but what else could it be?

Before I can think any more about it, Taqôq Wiyon beckons me over. ‘Come, Ray of Sun, I give you prayer also.’

My feet feel heavy as I walk towards him. I don’t want to leave him just yet, but I don’t have a choice.

He gently bends his head to mine and speaks in his native tongue. I don’t know what he says, but a peaceful feeling washes over me. When he’s finished he pats my head as if I was a small child.

‘You go now,’ he says, already turning back to the swamp.

A little taken aback at his quick and abrupt send-off, I turn and walk back to Sam.

‘You okay?’ he asks.

‘I suppose. It’s just that…’

‘What?’

I shake my head. ‘It’s nothing.’

But it’s not nothing. I feel like the walls are starting to close in on me and as I look back over my shoulder I see Taqôq Wiyon sitting on the log humming to himself.

Sam follows my gaze. ‘He loves you, you know.’

I open my mouth to say that I love him too but then the words get stuck in my throat and instead I just nod.

‘You ready to go back?’ I ask instead.

‘Not really. Is there anything else I should know before we head back?’

I’m only able to muster one word. ‘Julian.’

Sam frowns and he pulls his top lip back in a sneer.

‘Is that sneer from you or your cougar?’ I ask.

‘Maybe a little of both.’

‘You don’t need to protect me from him, Sam. Julian isn’t the enemy here.’

He jaw twitches. ‘I know that, but the man gets up my nose, figuratively speaking.’

‘How so?’

He shakes his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go.’

He’s keeping something from me, but for now I don’t push it.

‘So how does this work? Do you need to pick me up or something?’ he asks, lifting his leg in the air.

I roll my eyes. ‘No, I just have to hold onto you.’

He smiles and holds out his arm to me. ‘Let’s do it then. Where are we teleporting to anyway?’

Hearing Sam say the word teleporting seems so bizarre. ‘Back to your room. That’s where Phoebe is.’

His arm drops back to his side. ‘You left her on her own? Unguarded?’

‘Of course not! Magi is with her and so is…Julian,’ I mumble.

His features harden. ‘You left her with Julian?’

‘Well who else was going to protect her while I was gone?’ I reply, annoyed.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Great! Now I’m going to have to thank the guy for standing guard over my girlfriend.’

‘I don’t know why you’re so upset? Phoebe and Julian have had a chat and they seem to have called a truce for now.’

At least I hope they have? Maybe Phoebe will change her mind when she wakes up?

He lowers his eyes. ‘Why would they need to call a truce?’

Oh geez. He doesn’t know what happened between Phoebe and Julian. How could I have let that slip out?

‘Ellie?’

‘Look, there are lots of things you don’t know and I just think it would be better if you talk to Phoebe first, alright? Not to mention the fact that you haven’t been exactly honest with her either.’ I glare at him.

My reverse psychology does the trick and he falters.

I begin walking into the mist, taking one last look at Taqôq Wiyon before adjusting my vision to the murkiness in front of me.

‘Where are you going?’ he asks, falling in step beside me.

‘Back to the bed. Unless of course you want to sleep on the bare floor from now on?’

He smirks. ‘You know, I never knew you were this sassy.’

I laugh and it sounds out through the emptiness. ‘Yeah and I didn’t know you could be so bloody chatty.’

He smiles and a minute later we reach the bed. The scene looks like a gruesome horror movie—blood soaked sheets and bits of flesh still cling to the mattress, reminding us of what happened. Sam flinches beside me and his eyes change from man to cougar and then back again.

I don’t know a lot about shapeshifters, but what I have read tells me that if his cougar can show himself so easily then Sam must have pretty good control over his abilities.

‘This looks worse than I remember,’ he says.

‘It looks like a scene from
World War Z
.’

‘Let me guess, another one of yours and Phoebe’s movie night regulars?’

I chuckle. ‘Yep.’ I move toward the bed and get ready to destroy the sheets. I’m pretty sure Sam doesn’t need them anymore.

I strip the sheets and throw them in a pile on the ground, casting a spell that incinerates them quickly.

Both Sam and I cover our noses as the coppery scent of blood filters its way upwards. An ominous foreboding courses through me and I have a feeling I’ll be smelling that odour again soon.

‘I’m not sure I can salvage your mattress.’

‘I don’t think I want you to,’ he replies with a grimace.

This experience has taken its toll on him. No one can be prepared for the lives we live. Trying to live a normal life is hard enough, but throw in some unique supernatural powers and you have a whole lot of unpredictable.

I reach out and touch his shoulder. ‘I think I may have a spare one back at the cottage.’

‘Thanks,’ he mumbles.

Nothing I say can make this easier for him. Like Sam said earlier, life is a journey.

We push the mattress off its frame and I incinerate it as well. Within a few minutes the only evidence left of Sam’s fight against the Crocotta is a wire-based bed frame. And, of course, his scar.

‘Okay, let’s go back. I’m ready.’

He doesn’t
seem
like he’s ready, and if I were to take a guess I would think he’s more nervous about telling Phoebe the truth than anything else.

‘She’ll understand, Sam. She knows about me and she’s okay about it.’

He nods reluctantly.

I grab onto his arm as I reach out for the bed frame. ‘This won’t hurt, but you may want to take a deep breath.’

Sam inhales and I close my eyes.

‘Sam!’ Phoebe cries out as we land back in the room.

She runs into his arms and my chest tightens. She kisses him fervently and I look over at Julian, feeling a warm sensation flow through me.

I manouvre myself away from the bed and take up position next to Julian and Magi.

‘When did she come out of it?’ I whisper.

‘About three minutes ago. She wasn’t happy, and I think Magi may have needed to protect
me
if you were any longer.’ He nudges me with his elbow and I smirk.

As Sam hugs Phoebe to his chest he looks at me and flicks his hand my way, shooing me out the door.

‘What’s he doing?’ Julian asks as I manouvre him towards the door.

‘He’s saving my butt. Let’s get out of here.’

I close the door behind us and hope Phoebe can handle the truth. I’m not sure after today she’ll be able to take much more. But she’s got Sam now, and by the way in which their auras were merging with one another I’m pretty confident that she’ll be okay about it all. Love can make you forgive almost anything…can’t it?

‘You look worn out,’ Julian says as we make our way down the corridor.

I nod. ‘I feel worn out. I think I just need some food and maybe a sit down.’

His eyes roam my face. ‘Do you have any other classes right now?’

I flip my phone out and check the time. It’s one o’clock already? Shaking my head I say, ‘No, but I have to go and see Professor Jenkins about my exam.’

‘Alright, where is that?’

‘F block, right near the library.’

He touches my shoulder gently and my body tingles. ‘You go and see your professor and I’ll be waiting for you out the front in say…twenty minutes?’ He gives me a small smile. ‘I’ll bring sustenance.’

I agree and watch him walk away, appreciating the view more than I probably should right now.

With its old-school mahogany desk and dark leather lounge Professor Jenkins’ office feels like it belongs in the fifties.

‘So, Miss Cole,’ he says looking over my academic transcript. ‘I see here that you’re in the top ten percent in your class, you’re also part of the running squad, and you’ve just acquired a scholarship.’

‘Yes, sir, that’s correct,’ I respond nervously.

His bushy grey eyebrows rise. ‘It also says here that your uncle is Josiah Olsen, is that correct?’

‘Yes, sir.’

He clears his throat. ‘Good man, your uncle. A man of integrity.’

‘Yes, sir.’ I begin to feel like a ten year old who’s getting a serving down from her grandfather.

He places the transcript down onto the table and clasps his hands together. ‘So, from what you’ve told me, am I to assume that the reason why you didn’t show up for your exam was because you were helping your friend? What was it you said, she had a fit in the park and passed out?’

Sorry Phoebs
.

‘Yes, that’s correct.’ It was the only excuse I could think of that would seem credible enough.

Sitting back in his high-back leather chair he frowns and his bushy brows wiggle, reminding me of the Swedish Chef off the
Muppets
.

‘Do you have proof of this? And what I mean by that is, did anyone see you who can vouch for your whereabouts at this time?’