Wuthering Frights (15 page)

She nodded and dropped her eyes to her lap where she'd folded her hands neatly, like she was posing to have her portrait painted. "I have something for you," she said as if just now remembering and stood up, walking to the
far end of the living room. She opened the top left drawer of her entertainment center and produced a white box. Walking back, she handed it to me without a word.

I opened the box and found a bracelet inside it. It was made of silver wire and appeared to be knitted. The wire knit framed a greenish
-blue
stone in the middle of the bracelet. The stone was maybe the size of my thumbnail. I glanced up at Sam and smiled. "It's beautiful, Sam, thank you."

"It's called a Viking Knit," she said. "It's hand woven wire, and back in the days of the Vikings, they used the same weaving for their chainmail armor."

"Wow," I said, rubbing the stone between my fingers.

"It's one continuous strand of wire."

"It's really beautiful."

"Thanks," she said and looked as if she was very proud of it. "I made it myself."

I glanced up at her, surprised. "Oh my gosh, Sam! Wow, I'm really impressed! I love it." I rubbed my fingers across the slick surface of the stone, watching it sparkle in the light. "What sort of stone is it?" I asked.

"A protection stone," she said softly. "Also something the Vikings carried with them. They believed it warded away evil spirits. I charmed it to protect you against anyone who would do you harm."

"Thank you," I said again, throwing my arms around her.

"I'm really worried about you, Dulcie," she said as she rested her head against my hair.

"I'm going to be fine, Sam, I promise." Even as I uttered the words, I couldn't say I believed them.

She shook her head and sighed as she pulled away from me, smiling as she took each of my hands in hers. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Whatever it is you've gotten yourself into, the bracelet should help keep you safe."

I watched as she took the bracelet from my hand and placed it on my wrist, securing it as she did so. I shook my hand, the bracelet sliding down my wrist and resting at the top of my hand. The silver knitted metal gleamed in the sunlight streaming through Sam's windows. It was beautiful. I glanced up at my best friend. "Thank you for being you, Sam."

###

I spent the majority of the day with Sam, and I had to admit, I needed every minute of it. Being able to forget the stress of my overwhelming life for a few hours did wonders for me. When I got home, I actually felt rejuvenated, recharged. 'Course, the added energy could also have been from all the food Sam had forced down my throat. I'd eaten more today than I had all week.

As soon as I walked in my door, I noticed Blue outside in my yard, pawing on the sli
ding door to be let in. Taped to
the glass was a note. I walked over to the door and opened it wide, nearly falling over as Blue jumped up on me. He showered me with doggy kisses, his tail wagging as he peed all over the floor and then looked up at me in an embarrassed sort of way.

"You silly boy," I said, laughing as I walked to my kitchen, grabbed a handful of paper towels and cleaned up his mess.

Then with Blue on my heels, I approached the sliding door and pulled the note off the glass, unfolding it to read:

             
Dear Dulce,

             
I didn't want to keep Blue too long cause I'm sure you miss him. He's a really great dog and if you ever need someone to dog sit again, call me first, k?

             
Really glad you're back. We all missed you tons.

             
Love, Trey.

             
PS: There's this convention coming up for Star Wars and I got this Chewbacca
             
costume that's super cool and I was wondering if you would go with me to the
             
convention? It wouldn't be like a boyfriend-girlfriend thing (Knight would kill me) but like a friend thing. I just don't want to look like a lo
ser going by myself, you know?
Oh, and don't worry about a costume—we can find Princess Leah or Padmé or I also have a pretty cool ewok costume I wore last year. That might be a little big on you though ... Don't worry about a costume, we'll figure it out, k? Cool beans?
             

             
P.P.S: Thanks again for letting me keep Blue so long. I really like him.

             
Later gator!

             
Love, Trey.

I put the note down on my kitchen counter and couldn't help the sadness welling up inside me. I just felt as if I'd not only been a bad friend to Sam, but to Trey and Dia as well. And I couldn't even think about Knight. But the frustrating truth was that this whole situation was a catch twenty-two because I had to keep my distance from everyone in order to keep them safe. I didn't want Melchior knowing who my friends were because I didn't want him to use that knowledge against me ... or them.

I didn't have the chance to continue feeling guilty because the cell phone from Quillan suddenly started ringing. Feeling my throat constricting as I wondered what in the hell Melchior or Baron wanted from me now, I reached for it and flipped it open.

"What's up?" I asked, my voice tremulous.

"Meet me at the portal by the loading docks in ten minutes. Melchior has requested to see us both."

Nine

"Hi," I said, once I recognized Quill. He was standing next to his blue Mustang, which he'd just parked in the lot of the loading docks. I'd pulled in beside him a minute or so earlier. He closed his door, beeping the car locked as he faced me with a wide smile. His glance moved from me to my bike as his eyes narrowed.

"Is that your bike or a loaner from the ANC?" he asked and motioned to the Ducati, inspecting it as though he were displeased.

"Mine, but provided by the ANC." I removed my helmet, wedging it under my right arm as I stepped off the bike. The light of the full moon was so bright, it was like standing under a spotlight. The cold, salty ocean air whipped around me, chilling me through my leathers, while the smell of dead fish made me want to retch.

"Where's the Wrangler?" he asked.

I sighed, remembering my Wrangler and missing the yellow Jeep. "Gone. Totaled in an accident."

He didn't say anything but noticed my helmet underneath my arm and unlocked the mustang again, holding his hand out for it. I gave it to him and he plopped it on the passenger's seat. He was as aware as I that if I left the helmet unattended on my bike, it probably wouldn't be there when we returned from our errand to the Netherworld. Like I mentioned earlier, the loading docks weren't exactly the best neighborhood.

"And that?" he asked, referring to the leather jacket, which I was still wearing. "Remember, you'll get wings in the Netherworld."

That was one of the
curiosities of
the Netherworld which I liked least. As a fairy, wings would instantly sprout from my back as soon as I crossed over to Netherworld territory. The worst part was that my wings seemed to completely have a mind of their own. They'd start flapping unexpectedly and for no reason at all—annoying, to say the least. And they were also the reason I had to wear an oversized, baggy T-shirt which I'd slit in half down the back in order to make room for them. So, yes, it would be wise to leave my jacket behind. I took it off and handed it to Quill, waiting while he locked the door again.

"You totaled the Wrangler?"

The pervasive silence between us was telling. Quill had to be thinking the same thing I was—that once upon a time, when we were much closer, he would have already been aware of details like this. Now, however, there were parts of my life to which he wasn't privy. We definitely weren't the friends we used to be.

"Yep," I said and shrugged like the accident hadn't been a big deal although it had been a
very
big deal.

"Were you hurt?" he asked in a soft voice, his tone troubled and contemplative.

"As you can see, I'm fine," I said simply, not wanting to focus on the past any more than I wanted to focus on the shreds of Quill's and my former friendship. It was enough that we were maintaining some sort of pseudo friendship now, something born from necessity, considering the fact that neither of us belonged to the social circles in which we were now included.

He glanced at me curiously, but refrained from commenting, instead facing the Ducati again. "You'll need another mode of transportation."

"Why?"

"Don't want you to give off ANC everywhere you go."

I shook my head. "I thought my added value to this cluster fuck was all because I'm active ANC?"

Quill's eyes traversed me from head to toe as he took a deep breath and shook his head, apparently appreciative. "You look good in leather," he said with a soft smile. But at my less-than-impressed, raised-brow expression, he got back to the point. "Being active ANC isn't the only reason you're valuable to your father or me, Dulcie. You know that."

"Actually, I don't, but let's skip that conversation," I retaliated, wanting to think about my father as little as possible. "You think I need to drive something different to avoid suspicion?" I figured Quill was worried that leaving my ANC bike unattended in questionable places such as the loading docks, might draw speculation should anyone in the know (namely, Knight, Trey, Sam, etcetera) happen upon it. He actually had a good point.

"Yep," he said and nodded. "Apparently, we think alike."

"Well, an untraceable vehicle can be part of the agenda we discuss with Daddy Dearest," I muttered and started forward.

"Portal is this way," Quillan corrected me. He motioned for me to go in the exact opposite direction I was headed. I glanced at him dubiously, trying to remember the previous location where the portal spat us out the last time we returned from the Netherworld.

"That way?" I asked, my hands on my hips and eyebrows scrunched in an expression of "Um, you're wrong, Quill."

"Yep, the portal always changes location. It’s a safety measure," he explained.

"Interesting," I said, shrugging as I started toward him again. "How do you know where it's going to pop up?"

He rolled up his left sleeve and pointed to his watch. "Portal compass. Remember?"

I nodded, as I recalled him using the same device to locate the Netherworld portal that brought us here. But on to more important topics ... "So what does Melchior want with us?"

Quill glanced down at me and smiled before shrugging. "That's the twenty million dollar question. Who the hell knows?" He took a deep breath and shook his head, leaving me with the feeling that he wasn't exactly fond of my father, even if he were Melchior's right-hand man. "He's summoned me to discuss incredibly unimportant shit in the past."