Enlightened (Love and Light Series) (10 page)

“I need to pee,” she announced. “Where are the headlamps, Max?”

Max pressed something into her hand as she bent to kiss him lightly on the mouth. Adjusting the headlamp he’d given her, she headed for the trees, and Wolf stepped silently behind an oak as she picked her way along a fresh-cut path. She ducked into a copse of Russian olive trees and out of sight. Wolf balled his hands into fists and ground his back teeth together as the smell of her blood, laced with mother’s hormones and milk, taunted him. His fangs clicked down. He waited for the woman to put her clothing back in order, and when she looked up, his eyes glowed with a dark light. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“Shhh,” Wolf soothed, moving toward her.

Paralyzed by fear and his gaze, she didn’t try to run or scream, but her hands began a fine trembling.

“Relax.” His voice filled her chest as he ran his hand along her shoulder to her neck, lifting the heavy curtain of wavy, dark hair. The woman stopped shaking, but she never took her eyes off his as he dragged her to him and spun her around. He tilted her head to one side, exposing her white neck and stretching it into a long, tight line. Resting his mouth over her jumping pulse, he bit. She jerked beneath him, her eyes fluttering and drifting closed. He gripped her tighter, drawing sweet blood in quiet gulps. It was sweeter than usual, and he flashed on a mental image of his own mother: young, strong, dark, and beautiful, but all mothers were beautiful to their sons. Was she as beautiful as he remembered? Or had time and memory worked their magic, softening the rough edges and creating an aura of nostalgia? Had 500 years edited his memory? His mother held a small, dark berry out to him, the sun blazing behind her in a clear, blue sky.

“Taste it, Wolf. It’s perfectly ripe.”

Her voice echoed down the years, waking up his humanity. He yanked his fangs from her neck. What was he doing? He blinked. She was tranquil in his arms, breathing deeply, relaxed in the vampire’s spell. As sharp guilt cut through Wolf, he fortified himself against the warring wants. With a practiced detachment, he licked the bite wounds until the blood coagulated and the skin and tissue knitted back together. By morning it would itch like a bug bite and with the two faint marks, she’d think they were bug bites.

“You went into the woods to relieve yourself and noticed how unusual the moon is tonight,” he whispered into her ear.

She nodded. “The halo is beautiful. What is it?” Her voice thick with magic.

“It’s the wolf moon.”

He nudged her away until she walked on her own, her vacant face tilted up. The spell dissipated and awareness firmed her eyes as she looked to her left then right. She hesitated, looking up at the moon once more and glanced over her shoulder, but Wolf was gone. She had a vague sense of well-being mingled with fear and arousal.
What a strange sensation
, she thought. He’d taken the memory from her. It was his alone.

When Loti woke the next day, she couldn’t quite remember why she was in the guest room at Rachel’s house. Her dreams and the previous night’s events were all jumbled together, and she labored to sort it all out. She remembered everything, but couldn’t decide what was dream and what was real.
Wolf. The raven.
They were real.
The black man? Dream?
Yes, he was a dream. There was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Come in.” Loti yawned, snuggling the quilt up under her chin.

“Did you sleep okay?” Rachel eased the door open and poked her head inside. Still in her oversized black T-shirt with “Witches Bend it Best” printed in white across the front, she plopped down in the antique bedroom chair. Wolf sat there. Yes, he was real. Things were shaking out in her head.

“I have to get ready.” Loti groaned, hiding her head under the covers. “I have to pack.” She tucked the covers back under her chin, wrinkling her nose. “I have to shower.”

 “Do you want me to come over and help you get ready?”

 “Thank you, no.” Loti rolled onto her side. “I can manage.”

“What’s wrong?”

Loti sat up, letting the covers spill around her waist. “Why do we have to stay with Calisto?”

“I don’t know. But let’s just play along with Wolf for now.” Rachel stood up, stretching her arms overhead like Wolf had done the night before.

“You trust him? Even after what happened between you?” Loti tossed the covers aside and scooted down to the end of the old, wrought iron bed, hanging her legs over.

Rachel nodded deliberately. “Yes, I think I do.”

Loti snorted. “Well that fills me with confidence.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Once she was home and downed her first cup of coffee, the day gained momentum. She forced herself to put the night’s disturbances aside by busying herself with laundry and phone calls. Her backpack and a duffel bag lay open on her bed, and bit by bit, she filled them. She stopped at noon to inhale a bowl of lentil soup and went back to work.

Before she knew it, the sun was sinking behind the Blue Ridge Mountains. From her front porch, she watched it disappear, wondering if anyone was up on that ridgeline. Probably not; it was too early in the season and too cold. Rubbing her arms, she looked over her shoulder at where the moon would come up, simultaneously reaching for the tomato seedlings. Why had she even bothered with them? She would be gone until at least September.

She turned to go inside the house, the pungent smell of tomato plants and fresh dirt taking her back to last April. Spring sunshine warmed her skin as she carried a pitcher of ice water and a couple of plastic cups out to the weathered picnic table. David loosened root balls and tenderly patted dirt around the tomato seedlings. Her throat tightened as his shaved head—he’d done it that morning rather than watch his hair fall out—bobbed back and forth as he worked. Taking a deep breath, she convulsively swallowed.
Not now. There’ll be time to cry later.

After the chemotherapy treatments and the last visit by Model-T, the old healer who had tended David’s family for years, were over, David insisted on going out to see the tomato plants. It was June 5 and they were heavy with green fruit of various sizes that hung over the cages. With a wan smile, he shuffled like an old man, Loti steadying him.

“Hey, at least I get to see them like this before it’s over.”

She nodded as he turned over a tomato, afraid if she spoke, she’d blubber like a baby.

He studied the fruit for a moment, then gently released it. Without looking at her, he said, “Have you thought anymore about what I said?”

Loti stiffened, but David kept his back to her as he stepped over to the next plant. When she didn’t say anything, he looked back, the hard ridges above his brow softening at the strained agony on her face. “It’s okay, Loti. We have some time.” Two thin fingers traced the cleavage of a large, green tomato. “But not a lot.”

The cancer spread from his lungs to his lymph nodes so quickly the healers and doctors were perplexed. From there, their hope fell apart. And all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put David back together again.

Her cell phone tweeted.

She ran into the house, dropping the tray of seedlings on the table by the front window. Slamming the door, she grabbed her smartphone and glanced at the caller id. Groaning, she tapped the answer button.

“Hey, Mom.” Loti covered her eyes with her free hand, sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Well, are you packed?” Anyone else wouldn’t notice the slurring.

Loti sighed. “Mm hm. Rachel and I are leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

“I still don’t understand how you could just drop everything like this, but before you get upset, I know you’ve made up your mind, so there it is.”

“So why say anything, Mom?”

“’Cause I’m your mother, that’s why.”

How many pain pills has she taken?
“Well, I was just about to make some dinner, so I’ve got to go, mom.” Loti dropped her hand and stared with dull eyes at the calendar tacked to the wall. March 22. It was the spring equinox.

“No time for your mother, huh?”

“It’s not that, mom. I have a lot to get done before—”

“Don’t you ever forget who you are, missy. Do you think you’re better than your family? You always were too big for your britches. You’re still my daughter, you know, and you’ll always be.”

“I know, mom.” Her face sagged. “I love you.”

There was a long, breathy pause from the other end. “I love you too, sweetie.”

“Bye.”

She hung up the phone and put her head down on her arms. Her mother’s way of dealing with Calla’s death and her father’s abandonment was to self-medicate—drinking and prescriptions. At that point, Loti’s grandmother had taken the reigns and helped raise Loti. When her Gra’mom died, Loti had stumbled while struggling to prop up her mother. She hadn’t realized her Gra’mom was her touchstone, until she was gone. Then David had come along. Now, Loti had no energy left for it. She hoped her mother would be okay without her for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sign for the ashram read:

Welcome to the Marksville Ashram.

May all beings be safe.

May all beings be happy.

May all beings be healthy.

May all beings live with ease.

Namaste.

“I thought that was a Buddhist quote?” Rachel mused as she turned at the sign.

“It is,” Loti answered.

Rachel waited for more, but Loti turned in her seat, trying to see everything at once. It had been two years since she last visited, before David’s battle with cancer. The ashram looked the same with its white adobe-style buildings scattered up the side of the mountain. When they drove over the gravel driveway past the welcome sign, the trees parted revealing a humbling view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Loti thought her heart would burst. It felt like coming home. Both women were silent as they drank it in. At the end of the road was the parking lot and the Welcome Center. It seemed out of place, like it belonged in the desert or somewhere with wide open skies instead of tucked in among the pine and poplar. The dorms, a much bigger three-story building, stood behind and to the right of the Welcome Center. Bits of white and glints of glass merged with the landscape, becoming a part of the natural scenery. Rachel parked the truck and climbed out of the cab. By the time Loti joined her at the tailgate, she was already dragging Loti’s backpack out, grunting with the effort.

“What’s in this thing?” Rachel steadied it on the ground, while Loti retrieved her ski poles. Rachel’s brows arched. “What do you need ski poles for?”

“I use them as hiking poles.” She tucked them under a bungee cord attached to her green backpack. Lifting the pack by a single shoulder strap, she executed a one-handed swing that settled it on her shoulders, and then she snapped the hip belt. Shifting the weight to her hips, she fiddled with the shoulder straps until the padding floated a hair’s breadth above her shoulders. She wiggled her eyebrows at Rachel. Tilting her head, Rachel smiled. Was that a little of the old Loti Dupree emerging?

“Namaste,” a male voice shouted. They both turned to a young man with a shaved head striding toward them, a big smile plastered on his face.

“You must be Calisto’s guests.” He clasped Loti’s hand and beamed at her. Taken aback, she pulled away and almost lost her balance.

“How do you know who we are?” Rachel turned to the tailgate to retrieve her pack and duffel. Setting them on the ground, she straightened just in time to catch the young man’s bear hug. Crinkling her brow at Loti over his shoulder, she loosened his grip.

“Rachel. It’s me.” She held him at arm’s length and stared at his eager face until recognition dawned.

“Oh, my Goddess, Gage. What happened to your dreds?” Rachel hugged him hard, laughing and slapping his back as they rocked side to side. He left an arm draped over her shoulders as she turned to Loti one hand tapping his chest.

“Loti, this is Gage Masters. He was one of my students at the community college a few years back.” She shoved him playfully. “How are you, and how’d you end up here?”