Secrets in the Fade (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 2) Page 7

  No, he certainly hadn’t.

  The trailer was nearly empty when the others chose to grace them with their presence. Rachael struggled to aid her brother with a ridiculously weighted L-shaped couch when olive arms entered her vision. Aaron adroitly removed the furniture from her grip.

  “Thank you, Ms. Adair. I will take it from here.”

  She stepped back, grateful to rest her aching arms as the men maneuvered the awkward sofa through the narrow door. Amazing how it could even fit, she thought. Yet between the two men, they made it seem as easy as throwing a feather to the wind.

  Aaron came out first, pausing on the patio to light up a black cigarette. He always seemed to have them on hand, despite Rachael’s recollection of his speech about “moderating vices” two years before.

  “If you are cold, you may go inside,” he offered.

  She was, but just folded her arms in attempt to soothe the goose bumps. “I’m okay.”

  Aaron shrugged.

  Why wasn’t Jackie coming back out? Rachael shifted her weight to her left foot, then back to her right. It shortly became apparent he was not about to come to her rescue from this troublesome silence. After a while she said, “Thanks for taking care of him.”

  His black eyes flickered her way. “You have thanked me more than necessary,” Aaron murmured.

  “Well, geez,” she grumbled.

  Aaron flicked ash from the end of his smoke. “Considering the circumstances,” he began before another deep drag, “I ought to have begged your forgiveness. I believe caring for Jackson and helping him adjust was the least I could do—for both of you.”

  “I know,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t mean I’m not any less grateful.”

  Aaron smiled. Then, in a move she had never seen him make before, he snuffed out the spicy cigarette though he was hardly half finished. “Your brother is ideal lycan material,” he told her. As he turned to go back into the house he continued to speak, clearly expecting her to keep on his heels if she wished to hear him. “Had his circumstances been slightly different, I would have kept my eyes on him instead of you in the beginning. He takes to his new lifestyle with practicality and enthusiasm I have not seen since Nathan.”

  Rachael hurried to follow. She was careful to shut the door behind her. “Where is Nathan?” she inquired.

  “Upstairs.” Aaron sank into the couch, barely removing his shoes before he stretched them out on the short end of the L. His ankles dangled past the cushion. Though his pose was lackadaisical, there was a quietly predatory undertone to his posture that never let her completely forget what he was.

  Finding nowhere else to sit, Rachael tentatively eased herself on the opposite end of the couch. Keep your distance, she could practically hear Holden warning her.

  “And where is Holden?”

  The man shot her a skeptical look. “I had thought him to be with you. Today is his day off from the pack.”

  He gets days off?

  Her incredulity must have shone through, because Aaron said, “I have permitted him one day to himself until he moves in.”

  “That’s awful nice of you.” Rachael was unable to keep the edge of sarcasm from her tone.

  Aaron smirked. And said nothing.

  Seeing her opportunity, Rachael seized it. “About that girl—”

  “We have nothing to do with her,” Aaron bit, startling her.

  Suspicious he had spoken so soon, and with uncharacteristic rudeness, she said, “I’m just worried.”

  “As am I.”

  How could he be, unless he was truly considering turning that sweet little girl into one of them? “Do you know her?”

  Aaron closed his eyes without reply. His mood regarding whether he was going to answer questions flipped faster than a light switch, and a dozen times more frequently than necessary. Fed up, Rachael leaned back into the leather confines of the sofa, determined to prove she was not uncomfortable with him. Not now. Not anymore.

  Before she could speak again, the man said, “Where is Holden?”

  “I asked you!”

  “And I assumed you lied to me.”

  Ego bruised, Rachael snapped, “When have I ever lied to you?”

  “Plenty of times, Ms. Adair.”

  “Stop calling me that!”

  His mouth curled into almost a sneer, his dark eyes pinning her to the equally dark couch. “Miss Rachael. I appreciate your assistance, but I do not appreciate hostility in my own home. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding our current situation, I will not tolerate it when it is unwarranted.”

  Ashamed, not knowing why, and angry at feeling ashamed and not knowing why, Rachael clamped her lips shut. She struggled to form civil words for what seemed like a million minutes.

  “I really am grateful that you helped Jackie so much. But he’s in this situation because of you. If you know anything, anything, about that girl, I also need to know.”

  He appeared to debate whether or not she truly did need to know. After intense scrutiny he said quietly, “I looked into Ana Sofia Quintero’s disappearance. As well as the other children. As of now, the problem is no more a lycan fault than it is human. Unfortunately, these things happen, Miss Rachael. Man is just as, if not far more, evil than us. Beatrice was a tragic, regrettable situation wherein the fault lies only with me. I have never relished murdering my own. And as unstable as she was, there was also much good in her. Do not look at me in that manner. She possessed much that she never truly was given opportunity to blossom into a more caring, empathetic young woman such as yourself.”

  Were those tears in his eyes? Rachael blinked. If there had been any wetness to his gaze, he had rid himself of it faster than she could see. He continued to steadily watch her, silent as a void, awaiting her reaction.

  She was at a loss for one.

  Instead she whispered, “Sometimes I get why Holden hates you so much. Other times I don’t.”

  The lines of Aaron’s face smoothed. “I imagine he has explained why.”

  “You killed his family.”

  “In a manner of speaking,” replied Aaron. “There is more to it than mere bloodlust. Should he ever want to learn the truth, I shall tell him, but for now he seems more contented to hold on to his anger.”

  She tilted her head back slightly. “I also know you gave him those scars for trying to escape you.”

  He lifted a shoulder casually. “This is true.”

  “He says you keep punishing him for it.”

  “Also true.”

  “Why?” Frustration swelled Rachael’s veins. “He hasn’t abandoned you in years. He stayed with you until you told him not to. And now he’s on your side again. Why not just forgive him already?”

  “You think he has earned it?” said Aaron mildly.

  “He’s here, isn’t he?”

  “For his own self-interest,” he agreed. “Holden has never truly been loyal to his pack.”

  “But he’s here for you anyway,” she insisted. “That has to mean something, that he keeps helping you guys even though he hates you all so much. Why not just forgive him, so he can let go of it? All it does is poison both of you.”

  That brought the most peculiar smile to his mouth. “Forgiving someone only absolves you from holding them accountable. When that person has not truly met that accountability, it is a weakness on your end, Miss Rachael. To forgive when they are unrepentant only relieves you of that responsibility. Holden has never been apologetic for what he has done to the pack.” His smile iced over. “No. Relieving Holden of this burden is not an option.”

  “Then you’re just keeping the cycle going,” she said bitterly.

  Aaron shifted from his lazy lounge, his back ramrod straight and entire front facing her rather than the sparse living room. “Yes,” he said. “But that is my duty as alpha. I am the perpetual father to my pups. It is not like your world, where you are often free to leave at the age of eighteen. Agreeing to turn is agreeing to be with your pack for life�
��or until the alpha is challenged and bested, or dies. Holden was made clear the circumstances. And back then, the tender age of four was not so tender as it is these days.”

  Now she truly didn’t know what to say. Rachael’s head began to swim. Was he honestly being reasonable, or was she correct to be so suspicious of his smooth talking? It was difficult to tell with a man like Aaron. He had won her father over with a few sentences and a collection of expensive cars.

  And yet, in the moment, what he said made sense. In many ways, they were more animal than human. She understood pack nature. Even before meeting Aaron and his makeshift brood, Rachael had believed wolves to be among the most graceful, intelligent, and resourceful of wildlife. It stood to reason lycans would keep that mentality. It helped keep them together and strong. It bolstered their survival when there were so few of them and so many of everything else.

  She hadn’t realized Aaron was moving until he was so close she could smell the clove and bitter tobacco. Before she could move, he had one of her hands clasped in both of his. Those black, incomprehensible eyes held her captive as he spoke.

  “I understand your concerns. All I ask is that you try to understand that I am doing what I can to strike that delicate balance between keeping your brother safe and you contented. There is much I have to repent for after what I had to do to Beatrice, and it is taking time. Ask all the questions you will, but I may not always be able to give a direct answer.”

  “You just want me to trust you,” she said doubtfully.

  Aaron shook his head. “I do not expect it; merely request that you have some patience—and enjoy what time with Jackson you are able.”

  Unbidden tears stung her eyes. Horrified at herself, Rachael turned her head and stifled a sniffle. She couldn’t appear unintimidated if she cried, but the reminder that Jackson was going to be sparse in her life had a stranglehold on her lurking despair. Yes, she ought to be grateful he was even alive—truly, she was—and yet....

  She opened her mouth to speak just as the front door slammed open. Nearly leaving her skin, and somehow never yanking her hand from Aaron’s, Rachael swiveled to look at the bared threshold. She didn’t have to get more than a glimpse of the intruder to know there was about to be an explosion of threats and jealousy in the new home. No matter what she said, no matter how innocuous the situation really was, it was clear all Holden’s smoldering green and gold-flecked stare saw was Aaron’s hands on hers.

  Sure enough, Holden snarled, “I’ll rip your hands off.” Only his word choice was far more brutal with a couple expletives littered amongst his vocabulary.

  For a fraction of a second she was terrified he meant her. But then Aaron released her and stood, smoothly transitioning a few safe paces from her and to the center of the room. His legs spread in a firm stance, arms crossed with contempt, and head held high.

  All the qualities of an alpha.

  “You try,” said Aaron with terrible calm, “and you shall bear an identical set of scars.” Rachael reflexively touched her stomach. She’d never seen the scars, though there were times she had felt them through Holden’s shirt. All the same she was aware of their history. The threat sent a ripple of shivers down her spine.

  Holden strode forward with no regard for his well-being. He halted within a foot of his leader, his nostrils flaring. “Give me a better reason not to do it, because that won’t cut it!”

  Foreboding set a spark beneath Rachael’s feet. She jumped up and insisted, “Holden, it wasn’t anything like you’re thinking.”

  He shot her a scowl. “Trust me. With this man,” somehow he made the word sound fouler than his earlier curses, “he’s nothing like he wants you to think.”

  That appeared to amuse Aaron. “Ein Esel schimpft den anderen Langohr.” All the while his eyes danced with mirth, his tone clearly mocking despite the gravelly texture of the words.

  Rachael had no clue what he’d said, but Holden did. And it only infuriated him further. His brilliant white teeth bared in a snarl, looking sharper than Rachael had ever seen in a human mouth.

  “Shall I uncover each of your lies, pup?” prodded Aaron. He stalked toward his charge, closing the distance until Holden was forced to react. He stepped back, his face blotchy from going from red to pale to red again. Still his alpha continued relentlessly. “How much history are we to spread across our new living room floor? Will your sins soak into the carpet like a filthy secret, or overflow into the streets for all to see?”

  Shuddering, Rachael wanted to make them stop. But the dance they did was such a grotesque display of mismatched power and determination that she couldn’t find her voice. Gone, like the young mermaid from the fairy tale—not the one for children these days, but from long ago, when the yarns were more violent, and this mermaid had bled in a dance to whet the amusement of a spoiled prince who never truly saw her. In this dance, Aaron knew all the steps, but Holden plainly stumbled.

  Aaron went still, his eyes still riveted to his rusty-haired charge. The order to stand down was silent, yet painfully palpable. Holden’s hackles gradually obeyed, and Rachael found she could breathe again.

  Lycans were bizarre, scary, and... awe-inspiring. She hated herself for becoming entranced and leaving Holden to his own devices. Not that her aid would have done much more than anger one or both of the men, but... oh, hell, she could have tried. Instead she’d gawked like a dumbstruck child.

  His point made, Aaron strode past Holden and out the front door with ease. The wooden slab swung shut with a hearty clack.

  Holden whirled to face her. Rachael flinched. Apparently that was all it took to calm him, his expression melting from fury to apology.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. He glared after his leader. “I swear, it was like he knew I was coming. He just wants to make me lose it in front of you.”

  She could almost see that. But still.... “I don’t think so,” she said carefully. “I mean, maybe he is trying to manipulate me, but this was different. I think he means it when he talks about making up for having to... well, he seems to like Jackie okay, but that girl....” Her voice faltered.

  Holden heaved a sigh, the springs in his muscles at last loosening. “Maybe,” he admitted grudgingly. “Look, Ray. You’re smart, but you’re not his level. Even I’m not. He’s got stupid years of experience over us. Maybe he is sincere, but maybe he’s using that to get to you. Or maybe he’s using that to get to you to get to me.”

  It all sounded too convoluted. “Holden, I swear, I wouldn’t feel anything like that for someone like him,” she said. “I’m happy he’s kept his promises about Jackie. I really am. But that doesn’t change the fact it’s his fault.”

  Why did she sound so unlike herself, even though that was all true?

  A smile cracked Holden’s solemn face. “Just promise to be more careful, okay?”

  She promised.

  Then a frown scrunched his mouth. “Where is the pup, anyway?”

  Trying to ignore just how like Aaron he sounded then, Rachael shrugged and said, “I dunno. He helped Aar—Mr. Moreno move the couch in, but then when I came in Jackie wasn’t here.”

  A troubled cloud formed behind Holden’s eyes, turning the green from maple leaf to pine. “When was that?”

  Rachael bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

  Holden turned on his heel and raced past the sparse living room, through an enormous kitchen with a lovely marble-topped island that doubled as a family dining table, and over plush gray carpet in what must be the eating area. There was a large redwood double door that opened into a small yard and into Douglas Park.

  Scrambling after him, Rachael nearly tripped over the threshold. But ahead of her Holden actually tripped over a tiny form that barreled from behind the cluster of ivy and blackberry bushes.

  She skidded to a stop. Her heart throbbed, panicked because her friend was panicked.

  Howling, a small white wolf with gold-tinged fur tried to untangle itself from Holden. Unfortunately for it, Holden
was stronger, even in his comparatively clumsy human form, and he wrestled the pup to the cold ground.

  Within minutes the tiny wolf shifted back into his human form. A nude Nathan, his eyes as dark as his brother’s and far more wild, began shouting. “Get off’a me!”

  Holden ignored his demand. “Where’s Jackson?”

  That made the small boy go still. His lips quivered. Rachael felt faint, knowing that could only mean something truly awful had happened to her brother. But how had Nathan been outside? Wasn’t he supposed to be in the house? Had he slipped out?

  Holden drove his knee into the boy’s stomach, heedless of Nathan’s yips and yelps. “Where—is—Jackson?”

  Nathan cried out in a keening wail. “He’s in the forest! He faded, really faded! I lost him and tried to find him and he’s out like he’s sleepin’ and there’s a dead girl right next to him. You gotta tell Aaron, cuz I don’t know what to do!”

  Chapter Nine

  Rachael wanted to follow Holden into the woods. Jackson was her brother, she’d insisted. It was up to her to find him, to bring him back.

  But Holden had refused and left her behind, thrashing through the bushes and vanishing before she could disencumber the sobbing Nathan from her legs. No matter what she said he continued to wail and cling to her jeans. It had been so long since she felt this trapped and helpless.

  When staring into the park yielded no relief, she reluctantly urged Nathan inside. Some time passed until she could calm him enough to sit on the couch while she peeked outside the front. The moving van was gone. Aaron must have left. How could he not be here? Gnawing on her fingernails, Rachael scurried to the back door and found no sign of the boys.

  “Damn it,” she muttered. In spite of her fretting, she felt a flow of blood to her face at even the mild curse. Please find him. Please let the body be a mistake. Please, please...

  Plodding back to the living room, she halted when she saw Nathan was no longer on the couch. “Nathan?” she called. Her voice squeaked on the last syllable. Once the panic started, it was impossible to stop. “Nathan!”