Sable slapped my face hard. “Never speak of him that way! We are alive because of his mercy.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Sable could be very dramatic, but I noticed that Erik did not disagree. He simply looked away as if it were fact—one he was not pleased about, either.
I hated that I had been born into a supernatural family. We lived by rules that normal humans didn’t. Where they were free to choose whom they married, those like me often had arranged marriages, which had nothing to do with love. It was all about elevating our position of power among our kind and the humans. We needed to be able to influence laws and policy for the day we made our kind known publicly, an event my parent’s assured me was soon coming.
“Does it matter at all what I want?” I asked, my voice softer.
“Has it ever?” Sable countered.
Erik walked out of the room without looking back. He’d said what he’d wanted and would not waste another word. Sable looked as if she wanted to say more, but apparently thought better of it. She turned and rushed after Erik.
I sighed and pushed the bowl away. I would never have a relationship with Boaz. The thought sickened me. Besides, he was a vampire, and I was a human. It couldn’t work even if I had wanted it to—not well anyway. So what were my parents thinking?
***
A week passed, as did the image of Boaz from my mind. My thoughts returned to my immanent plan for escape. I needed to earn just enough money for a bus ticket and food to the city. Once there, I could stay at a shelter until I secured a job. I’d found one the other day on the Internet while Jane was preoccupied speaking to one of her children on her phone. I wish I could ask for her help, but her allegiance was to my parents. Besides, I would never put her in that position, especially not after what they did to our neighbor’s daughter.
It was late in the afternoon and a beautiful day for October. I had no intention of staying indoors. At least that’s what I told myself, but the truth was, Erik and Sable were returning from a visit with Erik’s parents, whom I’d never met, in Connecticut. I never understood why, but they always returned home angry at each other. Weeks, sometimes months, would go by before they would speak to each other again, which meant their attention was on me. Most of my abuse had been during these times.
I dressed in my riding gear and headed to the stables. Horse riding was the only activity they sometimes would allow, and since they weren’t around for me to ask, I figured it was okay.
After saddling my gray mare, Storm, I rode into the forest. My parents owned hundreds of acres, all private with no trespassing signs. I only knew half of what went on in these woods; the other half I didn’t want to know. My parents didn’t just throw parties for humans but also for those in power among supernatural creatures. Those parties were always outside, deep inside the forest. I avoided them at all costs.
When I reached a small clearing besides a shallow creek, I stopped Storm. During the cooler months, this was my favorite place. The wide gap in the canopy of trees let in just enough sunlight to warm the ground. I withdrew a heavy blanket and spread it over dead grass.
With a book in hand, I lay there and buried my feet beneath a fold in the blanket. I’d only read a few pages when a soft wind blew my hair away from my neck. It was surprisingly warm for the cooler temperature, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth. Suddenly the air became more focused and the slight breeze changed to that of a soft caress down the nape of my neck. I sucked in air and let the gentle touch linger against my skin longer than I should have. Finally, I exhaled and opened my eyes.
It didn’t take me long to find Boaz leaning against a tree on the other side of the brook, his arms folded to his chest. His black hair fell long to his shoulders. When a familiar flutter of confusion clouded my mind, I quickly averted my gaze.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said. Hunwald, the wolf, stood absolutely still by his side.
I kept my focus on the book, even though a part of me wanted to look up and see his face, to feel the power lurking behind the glossy surface of his eyes. “I’m perfectly fine alone, and if you don’t mind, that’s how I’d like to stay.”
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I left a fair maiden alone in the big, bad woods?”
“I can assure you, you are no gentleman and therefore are not required to act like one.” I continued to pretend to read, but after a minute under the pressure of his stare, I dropped the book and said more forcefully, “Please leave.”
“I told you: I’m not leaving you alone.”
I slapped the book down at my side. “What are you even doing here?”
“I heard you were in trouble.”
“Trouble? What are you talking about?” I sat up, thinking hard. Maybe my parents came home early and found me missing. They would definitely be upset if they knew I left without permission. A wave of nausea washed over me.