Adversity (9 page)

He will use you. He will
sacrifice you
.

***

Kali

“
Take Dog with you,” her father called out after her. “The
locals are getting twitchy. They’ll think twice with the mutt.”
Drina’s husband had forbidden her from going into town for a while,
which left Kali alone every day, apart from Dog. In a way, she was
glad because Drina’s presence might scare off her protector.
Besides, Dog was good company.

Dog was a
large wolfhound, given to her father as payment when he provided a
fertility potion that led to a healthy set of twins. The dog was
good for hunting, which gave him value, but he had a large stomach
which negated his value. Her father had decided Dog might be of use
as a guard dog, if the need arose.

Kali knew
Dog was harmless—loyal and protective—but ultimately harmless.
Drina had relayed how her husband warned their father that Kali
needed protection, and Dog was his solution. She wondered exactly
how many days would pass before her father needed Dog more than he
needed her to be safe.

The
locals were abrupt with her that day, maybe because of the dog or
because of the rumours that suddenly abounded. The negative effect
on her business didn’t matter to her, but it mattered to her
father, which was why she had some additional tricks up her
sleeves. She enticed some young girls with promises of spells and
potions, and by the end of the day, her basket was overflowing with
trades.

On the
way home, she saw Marusya’s husband again, this time waiting on the
grassy edge of the track. He stared up at her as she approached,
and again, she ignored the shivers that ran through her. She passed
him, and he followed her, again. She realised how disappointed she
would have been if he didn’t.

She
ventured a glance behind her. Their eyes met, but since he said not
a word, she kept walking.

Men were
trouble, this one especially. The men back at camp wanted to use
her to raise their station and to father the guardian wolves. They
had no love for her, only a need for glory and riches. Her father
especially used her more than anyone. If a father could do that,
then who knew what a husband would do? Drina’s new clan didn’t
really care what happened to Kali. She sometimes wished they would
forget all about her, so she could slip away in the night, except
her face was too well known, and her hands bore too much
value.

If only
she had been daughter number six. No more responsibilities aside
from the ordinary ones. She could have left, and maybe even settled
down with one of the gaje, if the right one had come along, the
right unmarried one.

She
couldn’t help glancing back at him one last time before she made it
to camp. His blue eyes shone from his sunburned face, and his bulky
arms were tanned almost as dark as herself. Her stomach seemed to
whirl around inside her whenever he was close by. His expression
was not unlike hers.

There lay
the danger.

She
couldn’t look at him through the same cynical eyes she observed
everyone else. She couldn’t see him as one who would use her. He
wasn’t anything like the men around her. She knew, somehow with
certainty, that this was a man who didn’t need her for what she
could earn. He needed something, though. That was painfully
clear.

Her pouch
was ripped from her waist by her father as soon as she stepped into
camp. He ordered away the dog.

“
More tomorrow,” was all her father growled.

Drina
greeted her with a lot more love, gazing with interest in the
basket, but her face looked pinched. The black bags under her eyes
were more noticeable than before.

Kali
rested a hand on Drina’s swollen belly. “Heavy?”

Drina
nodded with a weary smile. “Today’s not been easy.”

“
I can make something for you.”

“
Thank you. My big, skulking man over there wants to know if
you had any trouble today.”

“
And yet our father doesn’t care either way.” Kali couldn’t
keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“
Now, now. You know better than that,” Drina chided, but she
cupped Kali’s cheek with her hand. “Try to be happy with your lot,
my sister. I keep telling you it’s easier if you accept
it.”

Kali’s
smile was weak. If only it were that easy.

Something
inside her was more than willing to fight tooth and nail against
her destiny.

Amelia

I didn’t
get up for school the following day. Nobody asked why. They were
all too busy making plans to hunt and track enemy werewolves. For
the first time in ages I was free. Nobody was forced to babysit me,
and I wasn’t told to stay indoors. I should have felt relieved, but
mostly, I felt forgotten.

The day
before, Nathan had asked me to find out what was happening with
Perdita’s dad, but nobody I texted knew anything. No news was
scary. When I thought about Perdita, and how awful she must have
been feeling, my guilt multiplied.

I kept
remembering the way my mouth had watered at her father’s blood,
which pretty much devastated me. I couldn’t tell a soul about it
because I was afraid they wouldn’t understand. Nobody in my family
had ever mentioned anything like that happening to them before they
turned, so I couldn’t even blame my desire for blood on the whole
werewolf thing. After all, there wasn’t any real reason it would
happen to me. Only the men in my family were meant to turn into
werewolves.

I moved
downstairs to get better reception on my phone when I overheard my
grandfather whispering to Jeremy while Byron and Nathan waited
outside.

“
Don’t let him near her,” he said.

“
Don’t you think—”

“
I mean it, Jeremy. This isn’t the time. I want her lured in
again, but next time with her companions by her side. That won’t be
possible if he chases her away.”

Remembering how Opa had acted the last time he caught me
listening, I slipped upstairs quietly, needing some space to
think.

After a
couple of minutes, I heard the front door slam, and I watched out
the window as the trio ran off.

Nathan
was right about Opa. He couldn’t be trusted any more. My dreams
were pretty much a lesson about not trusting the men in charge, and
now why I shouldn’t trust them was all coming to life for me. My
head pounded again, but I knew I had to confront Opa. If he was
willing to use Perdita and her dad as bait, then what would he do
with me?

Plucking
up the courage, I went back downstairs and walked straight into
Opa’s office without knocking. Opa looked confused, but he didn’t
kick me out.

“
Why are you doing this?” I asked.

His eyes
narrowed. “I’m doing what has to be done.”

“
And does that include using me as bait?”

“
What are you talking about?”

“
If you think the werewolves are after me, are you going to use
me to lure them in?”

A flicker
of regret crossed his face, and that broke me completely. All of my
suspicions were coming true. He didn’t even deny he wanted to use
me as bait.

“
At least I know,” I squeaked before running back upstairs
again. I pulled out the spirit board, desperate to connect with
someone, anyone, but no spirit answered. Frustrated, I kicked it
away from me and leaned against the foot of my bed. I had nowhere
to turn and no one I could trust. The walls might as well have
closed in on me; I felt so confined in my room, wishing I could be
outside looking up at Kali’s stars. I wandered around the house,
trying to find a spot I could breathe, but even the garden felt as
though it were a cage.

When
Nathan returned, he appeared more stressed than when he
left.

“
Anything?” I asked when he joined me in the living
room.

“
No news. You hear anything?”

“
Nobody knows anything yet.”

He looked
so broken, so desperate, that my heart panged for him, and I knew I
couldn’t tell him what I had overheard. The knowledge would shatter
everything he believed in, if even I confirmed the worst about Opa.
I had to let him have some hope.

“
You could go to the hospital,” he said, but it sounded as
though he were on autopilot.

“
She won’t want me there.” I wished he understood, but I could
never tell him how I had reacted when her dad was hurt. He would
never forgive me. He would never understand.

“
We’ll talk to Joey tomorrow.” He sounded defeated, but he
stared hard at me. “You look exhausted.”

“
I haven’t slept much lately.”

“
Those dreams again?”

I was
embarrassed that he knew the dreams were affecting me so badly, but
they had begun to overshadow my real world problems.

“
They’re intense,” I admitted. “I wake up feeling like I’m a
different person. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

Worry
tightened his face. “Maybe you should talk to Byron.”

I felt
badly for worrying him, so I tried to brush it off. “Maybe it’s not
anything supernatural. I feel like I’m coming down with the flu
again, too.”

Stress
filled his voice as he asked me about the last dream, but I
couldn’t even begin to explain it to him. I ventured to tell him
something that had been bugging me, though. The dreams had seemed
so real and were always about the same people. They brought out
such a fierce reaction in me.

“
Do you think maybe it’s like a memory or something?” I
asked

He paid
attention then. “How could it be a memory?”

I
hesitated, but I had to get it off my chest. “Like… a past life or
something. Mémère believed in reincarnation. She said we all get a
second chance at life.”

I knew I
made a mistake as soon as I heard his reply which was tinged with
laughter. “You think you were a gypsy in a past life? Think maybe
you’re the one who cursed us?”

That
bothered me, and I ignored him for a while. Nobody ever gave me the
benefit of the doubt. They all insisted on casting scorn and doubt
on everything I believed. How dare they?

Byron and
Jeremy returned, bringing news that a number of werewolves had been
hanging around the hospital, and I feared for Perdita more than
anyone else.

Opa waded
into the middle of the conversation which made everything a million
times worse. Nathan stormed off and left me to listen to the
ensuing argument.

“
You have to take back that command,” Byron said, referring to
Opa banning Nathan from seeing Perdita.

“
It’s necessary.”

“
How the hell could that be necessary? You heard what we said a
minute ago, didn’t you? Werewolves are stalking Perdita’s family
because of us. Our responsibility is to protect them.”

“
Is it?” Opa sounded so offhand and uncaring that I cringed in
my seat, and wished something mystical would whisk me away from the
awful atmosphere. Jeremy stood next to Opa, glaring at his own
father, which was terrible to watch.

“
There’s only room for one alpha,” Jeremy told Byron. “Maybe we
should give him our trust.”

“
None of this makes sense,” Byron insisted.

“
You
will
do
as I say. No more arguing tonight,” Opa said in
that
tone of voice again, the one
that sent cold shivers down my spine.

Byron
spluttered, but no words came out. With his cheeks flushing red to
purple and fury burning in his eyes, he strode from the room.
Jeremy had the audacity to laugh at him. I couldn’t stand another
second of it.

“
Maybe you’re the one who needs a lesson in respect,” I snapped
at him before running up to my room to hide away.

My family
was falling apart.

***

Kali

The day
had been long and difficult. Some of the women had argued with her
about her foretelling, how her visions weren’t possible because
they didn’t reveal what the women themselves wanted. She couldn’t
help what she saw, and she couldn’t help them if they kept living
for “what ifs.”

She
longed to make the journey back to the camp, but not because she
wanted to be with her people. What she wanted was that one glimpse,
that one glance back at the beautiful young man who followed her.
The embarrassing truth was she needed that glimpse of him; she
thrived on it.

She
sensed him behind her, and imagined the dust lifting from his every
step. He was protecting her, yet he never spoke to her. He probably
had little idea of how she felt whenever she saw him.

Maybe he
saw her as a child. The young women of the village curled their
hair with rags and stained their cheeks and lips to make their
images more appealing. The only decoration Kali had was her
brightly coloured skirts which she couldn’t allow a man to touch.
She was strong, rather than curvaceous, and she knew she wasn’t the
prettiest of her sisters. Among her people, social stature came
with age and motherhood, but surely she deserved more than to be
thought of as a child.