House of Slide: Wilds, Part I Read online

  “Let’s get pruning,” he said covering up the awkward silence after I’d finally stepped back. I felt awkward and irritated with him in spite of the fact that he’d waited for me to pull away. How could I justify holding his hand by arguing that I had to analyze his temperature? Of course he felt Cool. That’s what he was called: Cool.

  He picked up the branch, not mentioning anything about my delayed hand drop. I was overanalyzing. It had probably only felt like I’d held his hand for a long time.

  He seemed to forget me as he shaped the branch into the likeness of a body, running his hands over the wood instinctively, bending it this way and that, whispering to it until the only leaves left were where hair would be, with two twigs sticking out for arms in the dancing position.

  “Give me your jacket,” he said. I shrugged out of my jacket, handing it to him, feeling self-conscious in the camisole that bared so much skin as well as my runed arms. He took it without seeming to notice my black twisting runes or anything else about me as he dressed the branch. What was I doing, dressing up a branch when I had important things to do? It wouldn’t work anyway.

  Suddenly the branches came to life, moving as the leaves flowed into hair that covered a face while arms wrapped around him.

  “How did you…” I gasped reaching out to touch a strand of hair.

  He looked over at me as I pulled at leaves. The branch had become nothing more than a bit of wood wearing a wool jacket. “It’s an illusion,” he said as though that should be obvious. “If anyone looks too closely it’ll be broken, but I’m counting on you to be stealthy and quick. You’re very brave, hunting a Hunter.”

  I took a quick breath as I studied him, wondering why he would help me, actually using his gifts for someone he didn’t even know. “Thank you, Matthew. Getting to know you makes me think that I need to meet more Cools.”

  He grimaced, like I’d insulted him. “The illusion won’t last forever,” was all he said.

  My headache throbbed as I moved through the shadows at the edge of the yard. I fought off nausea as I slipped around couples who were entwined as though they were the only people in the universe. I tried to ignore them as I dodged around blooming lilacs and a trampled peony. I finally had only six feet between myself and the trellis I would climb to the balcony. With coarse laughter around me, I doubted anyone would think it was too strange to see a runed girl scaling a trellis. Not that a girl in a jacket would be any less noticeable but if I’d still had my jacket, no one could see my runes, or the camisole that Hotbloods leered at. I felt a juvenile thrill as I made that last dash under the bright lights, leaping for the trellis, catching the gaps in the frame with my bare feet.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d climbed something, maybe back at school when I’d carried the goat up the side of the building to leave it in Madame Duparde’s dressing room. Now that had been a good time. I paused for a moment caught by a thorn from the bush twining in the trellis.

  Camilla had used that to blackmail me. I hadn’t known the goat would eat half of Madame Duparde’s hats. She’d been furious, so angry with flashing black eyes holding up a ruined hat that I hadn’t dared refuse Camilla, not when her conditions seemed so harmless. Writing her letters home for her was better than facing Madame Duparde’s wrath. Of course, Camilla had told Madame Duparde that it was me the day she left school, anyway. The memory came back with a clarity I didn’t expect, the look in Camilla’s eyes bringing back the confused betrayal I’d felt along with a wave of dizziness.

  I swallowed down a wave of nausea as I continued to climb in my skirt. I carefully eased the thorn out of the fabric then continued carefully the rest of the way until I slid over the edge of the balcony to stand nonchalantly at the edge of the crowd with only a few people giving me puzzled looks. I smiled at them confidently, hoping that I wouldn’t faint again as I pushed gently around the too warm bodies to find the glass flinging culprit and the Hunter.

  No one looked like they were interested in anything more than flirting with their neighbors. I smoothed my hands over the railing while I looked down. Maybe the Hunter wasn’t on the balcony after all. I searched the crowd until my gaze was drawn to a shockingly intimate dance between the Cool guitarist and the tree branch that looked remarkably human, female, and like me.

  I swallowed an unexpected wave of embarrassment. I would never be so close against his chest, leaning my head against his shoulder while his hands caressed my back. I stared at the blatant desire on display, feeling hot shame at the same time a tentacle of jealousy wormed its way into my stomach. Had he danced with me like that or did he find it more natural to express desire with a tree?

  I heard a familiar growl to my right. I stopped breathing as I turned my head in time to see a large bald man clench his teeth on a cigar while he gripped his glass, pulling back to launch it at my date.

  I grabbed a bottle someone had left on the railing and brought it down over his big, ugly runed head. I’d searched continents for him, and here he was, at a party? Throwing drinks at my date as though I hadn’t been worried sick to death for months? If anyone was going to inflict bodily harm on my date it was going to be me, not my big, stupid, idiotic brother, former Son of Slide. He looked less than happy to see me. Of course, blood and champagne were running down his bald head and into his eyes so I couldn’t really blame him.

  “What happened to your hair?” I demanded at the same time he grabbed my elbow, dragging me through people who moved away from us, some lifting glasses in giddy cheers. I would have struggled to get away from him except that would defeat the purpose of all that time spent trying to find him. If he was hanging onto me then I wouldn’t have to hang onto him. He didn’t say anything until we’d gone inside, through the sound blockage that left the party and music a world away from us. He marched me down the hall, throwing open a door that revealed a small but quite pleasant study with green leather furniture and bright white paint.

  He propelled me into a chair, pushing his enormous weight down on my shoulders as though he didn’t believe I’d stay there before he folded his arms across his chest exactly the same as the Bloodworker had done earlier. It was too bad that the blood and champagne ruined his fierce scowl.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I blinked at him, startled at the question. Was he an idiot? Did he think I’d come all this way to dance with the Cool that he apparently didn’t like? I sat up in my chair while I fixed him with a polite smile. “It’s nice to see you, too. I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here other than throwing drinks at perfectly nice musicians? I’d thought you were raised better than that.” I lifted my eyebrow while I channeled the infinite disdain of my grandmother.

  “Perfectly nice? That…” He sputtered for a moment, clearly overcome by my counterattack.

  “As the only male who asked me to dance, yes, I’d say perfectly nice.” I wasn’t about to reveal my irrational jealousy at seeing him dance with a tree. “I don’t understand you hemorrhaging about whoever I danced with. You’re still bleeding. Maybe I should get a towel.”

  He wiped his hand over his head distractedly. “It’s fine.” He picked a chunk of glass out, and I watched a large drop of blood drip onto the dark floor. I blinked at that clumsiness—that he’d sprinkle his blood around so carelessly.

  “I didn’t mean to break it over your head,” I said, half an apology, rising from my chair to do something about it, but he shoved me back down, leaving a red smear on my shoulder, but at least not staining my camisole.

  “The last time you ‘accidentally’ broke something over my head…”

  “You’re going to say you didn’t deserve it for…” I trailed off, studying my hands in my lap. This was not going any of the multiple ways I’d planned for finding my brother. I couldn’t remind him of that time after mother got sick, right before the first time he’d left the House to go Hunting. I had to remind him why he wanted to stay with the House, to come back.

 
“Helen,” he said quietly, sitting down across from me. “This isn’t a safe party for you, in fact, I don’t think there’s anywhere in this country that’s going to be safe right now.”

  I fought down the urge to argue that I could take care of myself because I needed him to feel like I needed him to come back with me, to be part of the House even if it did feel broken without my mother.

  “Maybe not,” I said slowly. “But it’s not safe anywhere, is it? No matter where we go, or what we do, we can’t escape death.” I reached out and put a hand over the clenched fist on his knee. I hoped this worked. I’d tried to understand why he’d left, why he’d finally not come back. I think it was the realization that it was all a lie. The runes, the power, the security didn’t matter, because however long you lived it wasn’t going to be forever, and what else was enough when it came to someone you couldn’t live without? I felt a pang in my chest that made it hard to breathe.

  “Well,” he said, putting my hands back on my lap. “Maybe you’re going to die, but you don’t have to run into the arms of the first unstable Hybrid you come across.”

  Hybrid? What was he talking about? The Cool musician, had he lied to me about being Cool? No, because he’d never specifically said that he was Cool, only referred to their tendencies. I stiffened in my chair as I mentally reviewed our conversation. I’d danced with a Hybrid? I’d been vulnerable and trusting of someone who could lose control at any moment? I blinked Saturn back into focus.

  “It says something about a party that the most pleasant person there is a Hybrid. What are you doing at a wedding party anyway?” I was proud of how steady my voice came out because even though he’d ended up being trustworthy, pointing me in my brother’s direction unlike all the other Hotblood’s I’d tried to deal with, the idea of dancing so close to a Hybrid, the reality that I hadn’t even known what he was or why he’d singled me out, disturbed me.

  He glared at me, cracking his knuckles before he cleared his throat. “It’s my wedding party.” In the silence after those words I listened to the clock, ticking loudly in the corner of the room.

  It couldn’t be true. They’d said it was a Hotblood’s wedding party, a Hotblood, nothing about a Wild. Camilla, somebody would have mentioned the Wild. It explained why there were so many Wilds. The idea of my brother marrying a Hotblood, of having Hybrid children who would manifest unknown traits, most of which would get the child killed, chilled me. There were enough unpleasant ways to watch the people you loved die.

  “Well.” I stared at him, at his bald head and the unlit cigar still in his teeth. “I can’t say it’s agreed with you, marriage I mean. Congratulations.” My voice was empty of emotion. I stood up, smoothing down my skirt. “I’d better not take you away from your guests any more than I already have.”

  I was halfway across the room when he snorted, taking the cigar out of his mouth and rolling it between his fingers. “You’ll never understand.”

  That stopped me. Of course I’d never understand how he could turn away from his family whatever the reason. Losing mother had made it clear how precious every member was to the whole. The House without Saturn would leave another gaping wound.

  I slowly turned around. “Saturn, you’re right. I don’t understand. You didn’t invite me to your wedding, and when I stumble onto it, instead of coming to meet me, you try to kill my date. I don’t know you at all.”

  “Date? You’re Matthew’s date?” His face turned a reddish purple color while his eyes which were too large in the first place got even bigger. “You didn’t even know he was a Hybrid. You’re dating someone who could paralyze you with the touch of his fingers, slip into your thoughts and make you do anything, can read every intention you have. He has no moral inhibitions about using his gifts against anyone. I’m supposed to sit back and let a filthy Hybrid sully my sister’s reputation?” That last bit came out a roar. Apparently he’d been spending too much time in the company of Hotbloods if he couldn’t have a civilized argument without raising his voice. It was all about inflection.

  I crossed my arms over my chest before I realized I was copying his pose. “Your hypocrisy is incredibly annoying. You can marry a Hotblood girl and that’s just fine, but heaven forbid if I, someone you’re no longer even willing to be related to, dances with a Hybrid. Would you prefer I take up with the Bloodworker I ran into?”

  “Anyone, anything would be better than a Hybrid. You can’t trust them. Who knows why they do anything? Bloodworkers can be trusted to hate Wilds. I’d thought Matthew hated everyone, but apparently he gets some sick thrill out of putting his filthy hands on my sister.”

  “Your concern is touching, or it would be if you hadn’t decided to cut all affiliations with my House. My safety is no longer your business. I don’t know which bothers you more, if I danced with someone inappropriate or that I enjoyed it, but either way, I’ll dance with every Hybrid, Hotblood, and Bloodworker I want, and you can’t stop me.” My voice rang as clearly as his did.

  I ran across the room, yanking the door open. The red-haired Hotblood in the green dress tumbled in. She looked slightly guilty while I stared at her, realizing that this was no doubt the Hotblood Saturn had abandoned the House for.

  “Congratulations. I wish you every happiness.” I tried to push past her but her hand gripped my arm.

  “Are you leaving so soon?” She sounded sincerely disappointed, a complete revolution from the way she’d talked to me outside, when she must have known who I was and what I wanted. Now I wanted to rip her auburn hair out by the roots.

  “Not right away,” I said reassuringly, forcing a smile at her. “I have to get back to my date before he leaves me for a tree.” I glanced back over my shoulder at my brother, well, the man who used to be my brother, before I slipped past the girl who had destroyed his future.

  I would probably have walked out the front door at the bottom of the stairs, around the couple still in the same position, if I’d had my shoes and jacket. It was either wander the streets barefoot and bare armed or go back through the charmingly repulsive kitchen and into the yard. The sound, the laughter and music felt like an assault as I stood on the steps with my stomach churning.

  I’d come so far, only to fail.

  Chapter 4

  Helen

  This time the Hybrid musician, Matthew, stayed on the stage where he performed, not seeming to see me as he lost himself in his music. I had no idea where my jacket or shoes were. I wandered through people, trying not to look as sick and abandoned as I felt, searching the crowd for Camilla. She would have known that this was my brother’s wedding party. I couldn’t decide if I were more angry at or grateful to her for bringing me there to face Saturn.

  Eventually, I found myself edging away from the crowd until I stood beneath the cover of the oak tree. No shoes, no discarded branches, there was nothing but the bark against my back as I slid down the trunk to sit with my feet tucked under me, watching the musicians in the distance.

  The Hybrid, Matthew, stood in the front, staring down at his guitar while his fingers flew over the frets. The intro wasn’t really my thing, too current and slightly pretentious, but when he began to sing with a voice that was more compelling than before, I felt a tug in my chest as the emotion he expressed touched a chord in me. People turned to the stage as he sang a song I’d never heard before. The laughter, the loud talking faded away as the Hybrid caught their attention and held it.

  The words filled my heart to overflowing, the sound of his voice electrifying my veins until I couldn’t stay where I was, couldn’t hide in the shadows and observe. My brother had left us. Me. I couldn’t feel that anymore. I had to replace it with this. I joined the throng of swaying bodies, closing my eyes and letting go. The song wasn’t sad exactly, but it was certainly bittersweet, about holding on to nothing, not enough, and too late.

  I hated sentimentality. I hated songs that made people cry, but then I felt the words and music move through my body as it became an extension o
f me. I danced, spinning and moving, ignoring the people around me. I didn’t dance like the Hotbloods, or Wilds, or anything at all. I danced like the song, letting go of my inhibitions and losing myself in music.

  The beat of the drum, squeal of guitars and his voice, low and deep, made the rest of the world disappear, including the dizziness and nausea as I felt and floated on that feeling, a kind of loose and lucid dream with blurs of people, sparks of light and energy that flowed around me, through me.

  His voice rose and fell until with a whisper the music faded, leaving me blinking the world around me into focus. The first thing that I saw was his face, Matthew’s the Hybrid where he stood on the stage not too far away from me, staring at me, into me, like he wanted to strip through everything extra and suck out my marrow.

  The second thing I noticed was the circle that had formed around me of dangerous looking men who I couldn’t tag as Hotbloods or Wilds with various expressions on their faces, not the least of which was leering.

  I turned away from the stage and walked, raising my eyebrows at the skinny man with bright red tattoos on his forearms who blocked my way back to the oak tree.

  “Pardon me,” I said, waiting for him to let me pass.

  “I didn’t know that Satan had a sister,” he said giving me an up down glance that made me wish for more coverage.

  “And if he did, that she wouldn’t be as ugly as he is,” the man beside him said with a thick brogue, his purple mohawk setting off his nose ring.

  “You’re friends of his?” I asked, hesitating.

  “I have your jacket with my motorcycle,” Matthew whispered in my ear as I felt his hand slide around my waist.

  “You shouldn’t go anywhere with the Hybrid,” said the man with red tattoos as he shifted back and forth, like he was loosening up for a wrestling match.