Page 22 of Heartless

It was a strange thing opening the door. I’d only come up here a handful of times since I moved to the Chances. Driftwood wanted me to keep a connection with the place, but it had been hard after my dad’s death. Some whisper of him clung to the air; not so much a scent, as the shadow of his memory, always flickering right at the corner of my eye. If I’d known about werewolves back then, I would’ve called it his ghost. Although I would have been wrong about that, too. Because my dad hadn’t died. He’d simply left. Closed the door on the decade we’d spent here together and gone off to start his new, secret life.

“You okay?” I looked up to find Jasper standing at my shoulder. He’d had to edge Darkness out to claim the spot, and I blinked at his nearness. He was in one of Driftwood’s old snow coats, and his sun-streaked hair was mussed from the ride. Give him a blonde in a ski bunny outfit and Ski-Doo would’ve slapped them on a billboard and sat back to count their cash.

“Yep, the lock’s just a bit stiff.” Shoving the door open, I led the way inside. There was enough light from the two windows to offer a hazy outline, and even before Darkness lit one of the gas lamps, memories swooped from all corners. Unlike the exterior, it was hard to look around and see the cabin for what it was. How many times had I watched my dad sit in the rocking chair next to the woodstove, waiting to guess the creature he was whittling out of a boring stick? Or run my finger along the shiny red spines of the medical books he patted every time he walked by? Or done my homework lying on the rag rug a neighbor had made, each loop a shade that matched my dad’s hazel eyes?

And then there were the little glimpses of my mom. She’d only lived here until I was four, and my dad had been careful not to turn it into some kind of shrine, but there were still a few of her things tucked away in the corners. Like the jade bowl she’d used to gather berries in the summertime and the Happy Home pillow she’d cross stitched one winter. Vague, almost forgotten things, and I found myself drifting towards a small picture of her on the sideboard under the window. She was younger than me when it was taken, barely into her teens, and I felt something clutch at my chest as I stared into her wide, dancing eyes.

“Wow, you really lived like this as a kid?”

Chastity’s disbelieving voice dragged me back to the present, and I carefully replaced my mom’s picture, my cheeks growing hot. “It was okay. I didn’t know different.”

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way…”

“It’s fine.” I cut her off and turned to Darkness. I didn’t need to hear how rough the place looked to a girl who drove a top-of-the-range Jeep and accessorized her snowsuit with a diamond-studded necklace. “He’s obviously not here. What do you think? Head over to the north cabin now, or wait to see if that storm comes through?”

Darkness’ eyes flicked over Chastity’s tight face, before he said, “Well, someone’s definitely been through here recently.” He picked up a Ridgemont newspaper that was looped over the arm of the rocking chair and looked at the date. “Only a week old. He could just be out hunting, or checking in with someone over on the ridge.” There were a few other cabins in the area, all a lot more rundown and reclusive than ours, but it was still a community of sorts. “I think we should look around, see if he’s close by. We can decide what to do after that.”

“Okay.” I turned quickly and headed into my old bedroom. There were only two in the cabin, and this one had a twin bed and a small set of drawers pushed under the sloping roof. It looked cold and bare, even with the bright quilt on the bed and a couple of my black and white sketches taped to the wall. As an awkward pre-teen, I’d imagined myself something of a reclusive artist, and my dad had always encouraged me to display my efforts. I smiled a little when I realized one of the drawings was of a large wolf that had haunted the edge of our property one winter.

When Jasper followed me in, he ran a finger over the picture, then turned and folded his arms. The look in his eyes made me gulp a little, and I spun away to start rummaging through my drawers. It wasn’t like I expected Driftwood to pop out of one of them, but it gave me something to do with my hands. Although my hustle didn’t stop Jasper from saying, “You’re making things uncomfortable. I get it, but it’s not fair on Chastity.”

I spun on him, mouth agape. “Fair? How is any of this my fault? She’s the one who prances around the cabin in her underwear.”

He raised his brows. “You’re jealous.”

“Of what?” I slammed the top drawer shut and yanked open the next one. “Her goose jacket? Or the diamond necklace she wears on a search and rescue mission?”

“It’s not the locket,” he murmured, coming up so close behind me, I shivered. It was mind-numbingly cold in my room, but my back suddenly felt like I was leaning against a furnace. “But now you mention it, did you see what shape it is?” He traced his finger over my shoulder-blades and I realized he was drawing a heart on my overheated skin. “Can you guess what she keeps inside it?”

I pressed a hand to my breastbone, hating the hitch in my breath. “I’m not jealous of Chastity…”

He grabbed my hips, slowly turning me towards him. “You think I don’t know what it looks like? I’ve watched you with Reed, then Cal. I’ve seen you hold their hand. I’ve seen you kiss them...”

I screwed up my nose. “I never kissed Callum!”

“But you slept in his bed. And if Reed hadn’t screwed up, you’d probably be with him right now.” I was positive that wasn’t true, but I couldn’t deny some part of me had liked Reed because he was Jasper’s friend. A crappy thing to admit, but Hunter Moon hadn’t just driven Jasper and me apart. It had taken what I now knew was a fragile love, and stabbed it right in the heart with a savage blood claw. Jasper winced as he watched me process his words, his fingers digging into my hips. “You have no idea how crazy it made me feel. Still does, to tell you the truth.”

I shook my head. “It’s not the same.”

“No?” He rocked forward, not touching me with his hips, but brushing his chest against mine. We were both still in our puffy jackets, but they were no protection against the growing heat that danced in the wake of his every touch. “So if I asked her to open the locket, and there was a picture of Darkness inside…”

“I’d slap her on a cracker and call her cheesy.”

He grunted a laugh, then looped his arms over my shoulders, resting his forehead against mine. “If you’re not jealous, Vail…”

“I’m scared,” I whispered. “He’s the last person on this mountain who doesn’t feel like a ghost.”

Jasper brushed back my hair, then pressed a kiss to my clammy forehead. “Maybe that’s because this place is in your past. Maybe those ghosts are telling you it’s time to move on.”

Chapter Twelve – Vail

While Jasper and I were having our literal heart-to-heart, Darkness and Chastity had unloaded the vehicles and searched the rest of the cabin for some sign of Driftwood. I couldn’t quite meet the other girl’s eyes when I came out of my room, but my tentative smile drew a look of relief from them both. It pinched a bit that Darkness had been aware of my sour mood. In the old days, he would have corked me in the arm, or rubbed his knuckles over my head until I screeched. Pissed off, he always said, was a hell of a lot better than pouty, and he’d made it his mission to pull me out of a sulk using any means necessary. But this time he just gnawed on his lip and directed my attention to a hand-drawn map he’d found on the counter.

I knew what it was - our version of a street directory, with a bit of a census thrown in. Dad had always kept it updated to reflect the comings and goings of our neighbors. People often lived this far north to get away from the world, but that didn’t mean they wanted to be completely cut off in a crisis.

I plopped down beside Darkness at the table and smoothed out the map. I’d drawn the main features, including the cabins, waterways and wooded areas, while my dad kept a log of the residents. The list included their names and ages, and any known ailments or issues, although he used a code for the latter. Those on the run from the law got a tiny pair of cuffs next to their name, and the residents who went off their rocker once a month got a full moon. The irony of those particular symbols wasn’t lost on me, but Darkness was tapping one of the most remote cabins. “This has just been updated, by the looks of things. And that’s dad’s handwriting, for sure.”

I nodded. Rhona Williams was now pregnant, according to the new annotation, which was bad news since she had a heart condition, and a boyfriend who regularly left her in bruises. He was so nasty, my dad had drawn both a moon and a pair of cuffs next to his name. In permanent marker.

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