Soul Shattered Chap. 2: The Trush Unveiled
Houses zoomed by as Darren and I quickly drove out my subdivision and ontothe roads, my lust from the bite dissipating. I looked over to Darren to see how he was faring. He looked so calm and serene, like the bite didn't have much of a side effect to it. But of course, nothing could faze him.
We rounded the corner just as I got the scent of my mother. So I pulled out my cell and left a message. "Hey, Mom, I just want you to know that I'm heading over to Darren's and plan to sleep there for the night. Ok, love you."
I hung up and put my cell away. I really wasn't going to sleep a Darren's; instead I was planning to go hunting. But sadly, it was hours until I could go hunt, so I might as well keep myself occupied till then. Hmm . . . I wonder if Kari was back.
Kari, Kari, Kari.
My sweet, loving mate; god did I miss him. He left a month ago to go to the House of Dens for the meeting that was held there. Normally I would have gone, but I couldn't 'cause I had school and work, so Kari took my place.
The House of Dens is a gathering of Alphas all over the world. It's kind of like a giant hotel for werewolves. Each Alpha (and his or her Pack) has their own rooms and surround sound speakers and a giant plasma-screen TV, and with room service, but other than its luxury, it's made for imported meeting and gatherings, or special occasions: like blooding and celebrations. And for Blood Moon (it's for the celebration of the red moon)--which I will be attending too. This time it was hosted in Germany.
Oh, and it's located next to a "special club" called Klub K9. Which are special clubs were werewolves can mingle in their true form with humans. And it's also a safe place for teens to hang--and by safe I mean it's a non-alcoholic club, us weres can't drink alcohol. Hmm, I should take Darren with me there some time--when I turn him of course. I know he'd love it.
I looked over at Darren and asked, "Hey, Darren, you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm ok."
"Ok, good," I said. Oookaay, so I didn't have any worries. For some reason my kind can tell when humans are lying and Darren wasn't lying.
I pulled into Darren's driveway just was my blood lust faded. Darren got up of the car and walked up to his house and walked inside. I got out and followed after him. When I got in, I overwhelmed by the strong scent of lavender in the living room foyer. At the end of the room was a Yamaha piano, carved with polished wood, but still having that modern technology touch to it. Next to the piano was the entrance to the some-what decked out kitchen. Across from me was the set of stairs that led to the upstairs and downstairs. The interior of the living room was set with a medal coffee table. There were two couches set side-by-side next to the table, and across the couches was a Sony TV.
I walked upstairs to his room. When I got inside, I saw our good friend, Tristan Prefer, sitting on the bed next to the window. I walked in and sat in the chair next to the wood desk in the corner of the room and looked at Tristan, his beautiful hazel eyes stared at mine.
I looked away, staring at his room. He had a large bed set right across from the door. His bed was dressed in black covers that framed his bed perfectly; he had a wolf blanket neatly folded at the foot of the bed, the wolf facing away from me. He had a few crimson colored pillows laid at the base of the bed; with a purple-velvet pillow (something I bought him) lying among the other pillows. At the corner was a black laptop (on the desk) hooked up to a fairly powerful sound system. On the laptop itself was a biohazard sticker and a pair of powerful bass boots DJing headphones, with a FL Studio sticker on each side. Above his laptop was a giant picture I made for him in Photoshop: Mix Master in the House.
Everything in the room was something I either got or he brought. Well, excluding our best friend, Tristan, of course.
Tristan was wearing some slack jeans, a gray t-shirt, and he had his midnight hair spiked up. His sexy bronze skin shined as the oncoming sunlight shone through the window. His eyes were a hazel color that gleamed as the light struck his face. He was also wearing a neon rainbow earring in his left ear.
"Hi, Chris, how you've been?" he asked, his eyes causally wandering the room.
A smile set on my lips. "Ok, I guess. How about you?"
"I'm good as well. I'm a little tired, but other than that, I'm decent."
Darren trudged in as Tristan laid back. "Hey, Tristan," Darren greeted. He stopped and started at Tristan lying on his bed. "Still having trouble getting a boyfriend? I mean, why else would you be in my room and on my bed?" he joked.
Tristan, being his humor-full self, held up his middle finger to Darren. "Shit, man. Finding the right boyfriend is a bitch." he smiled. "Why, Mr. Starling, are you offering?"
Darren scoffed. "You wish."
Darren stopped again stared at his best friend again, realization struck him. "How are you in my room, btw?"
I sighed. Darren can be so forget full some times. Apparently he'd forgotten the key he gave Tristan. I know a lot of people would think that's crazy, giving your friend a key to your house.
Tristan started searching through his pockets and dug out the spare house key, jingling them in front of him.
"Oh. . . .," Darren said, feeling stupid he forgot.
I smiled at my two best friends. They always make me laugh.
"So, Chris, how are you? I mean really how are you? I know it's been awhile since Kari was away, but how are you faring?" Tristan asked.
"I'm surviving, I guess. It feels like months instead of a month since he was gone. You know? Like I know that he's ok, but is daringly missing me."
"Well, can't you--you know, do that teleportation thingy?" Tristan asked.
"Shadowing," I corrected him.
"Yeah, Shadowing."
"Well no. I can't shadow from that far of a distance from where he is." I was as simple as that. Shadowing is great for escapes, and we can Shadow to pretty for distance. But we can't Shadow across a whole country.
"But can't you--"
I cut him off. "Don't, please--please just don't say it. I can't . . . I just can't and won't think about him. It--it's like this gaping hole in my chest; it's filled with lonesome. To think about Kari now . . . it's just a reminder of him amiss without me. I know this doesn't make sense. But I can't live without him. He's my mate. He's part of me that it hurts not to be near him--he's not just my mate, he's my Bond Mate. We're bonded my blood."
The atmosphere was dampened by silence and awkwardness.
"Ookaay," Tristan said, changing the subject. "So . . . Darren . . . how's the music producing going?"
Darren grinned happily. "It's going great! I've been working on a new remix and a new song. Wanna hear?"
"Yes," Tristan and I said in union.
"What program do you two use?" He asked as Darren walked to his laptop and booted it up.
"We use a program called FL Studio," I said. Damn! I nearly had forgotten that I had a few unfinished projects on my computer. "I also use Cubase 5," I said more or less to myself.
"Now, this song is still a work in progress. So it may have some kinks that I need to work out. Also, this song is a light trance song: smooth beat, low bass, mellow-out melody, and a slow tempo--about a BMP of 117. This defiantly is one of my more mellowed trance songs. Ok, dododo. Alright, here we go." He opened out FL, clicked on the FLP file, let it load and then clicked play, and soon a harmonic bass line and beat could be heard from Darren's HD sound system (something he saved up a lot of money to buy).
I walked over to his bed and laid down (well, not before I closed the blinds, blocking out that too-bright sun). I laid my head on the pillow I bought him and closed my eyes. My body relaxed as the harmonic song drifted into my sensitive ear. By the time the song went back to the repetitive beat, I was in the dreamy-conscience state. My heart thumped in tune with the beat and it felt like I was floating.
"Wow, man, I liked it. Send it to me when you're done," Tristan said.
I sensed Darren nod. "Chris, what you'd think--? Chris? Chris, are you awake?" Darren asked.
I sensed Darren and Tristan move upon the bed, ready to jump me. "Do it and you're dead," I warned with a growl. And to prove my threat, I sprang up, my fang and claws out, showing I wasn't kidding. They yelped and instantly jumped back. I laughed at them.
"Get her!" Darren yelled. He and Tristan dove for a pillow and started whacking me with it-or tried too. I kept dodging them. Ok, time to make my move. I sprang and within mere seconds I had both of them on the bed in a head lock. "Now, say uncle and I'll stop." I was feeling very smug-ish about this.
"Never!" They said and pushed forward, trying to pull me of balance. But, I put my foot on the bed sill, making myself immobile.
"Say Uncle!"
"Fine, uncle!" Darren huffed, looking very displeased at me abusing my abilities.
"That's my boys," I said, motherly. I leaned down and gave my guys a big-old wet sloppy kiss on the cheek.
"Ew!" Tristan protested. "I got kissed by a girl! Oh, no! Gayness for guys slowly fading," He said, slowly falling off the bed, pretending to die. His hands were around his throat, making choking sounds. "Light's fading. . . . I almost like girls . . ."
"Igit!" I laughed. I put out my hand to pull Tristan back on his feet. He took it and I lifted him up. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.
"Ok, guys," I said. "I'm gonna get us a coke." I left the room and headed downstairs. I paused to take a quick glance at the newly furnished family room. I passed the TV, walked through the dining room and into the kitchen. The kitchen was nothing interesting, just average. Sure, it had a stainless steel refrigerator and microwave; and the floor was tiled. But other than that, nothing new you'd find.
I walked over to the fridge and pulled out two Coca Colas.
Hmm . . . what I am I going to do? I can't pretend that with Kari gone I'm fine, 'cause I'm not. Just the thought of his heart-wrenching absence made my heart stop with strings of pain shooting through it. Like a stabbing pain that only Kari can cure, just leaving a warm numbing feeling. He was my cure, my saneness, and my angel in the night (or what he calls me).
My ears perked up as I digitally listen to the conversation above. "Great job, Tristan," Darren yelled in a whispered voice. "I told you not to bring up Kari."
I flinch when I heard Darren punch Tristan.
"Ow!" Tristan whispered.
I sighed deeply. "You guys know I can hear you up there, right?" I yelled upstairs.
Tristan swore under his breath. "I heard that, too," I yelled again.
I sighed again. This was going to be a fun night with both my best friends uneasy to talk to me for fear the conversation would end up about my Mate.
I took a deep, even breath and Shadowed upstairs--just will myself to Darren's room. Tristan's body stiffed at my sudden appearance. I walked over to him, laying my hand on his shoulder, using my Shiver--or influence--whispering, "Relax," to him. His body instantly relaxed to my order. I looked into his eyes and smiled.
"Darren," I said, my voice strong with disapproval. "Don't punch Tri--" I was cut off by my jeans pocket vibrating. I dug by hand into my pocket and fished out my cell. I flipped it open and saw Kora had texted me.
Chris check ur email; it's important!
Huh. What was so damn important that I need to check my email? God it was a bad idea to get my Pack a cell phone,especially with Kora. That wolf never stops texting me. My God, he is costing me a pretty penny with all the text he sends. That bored little pup needs a new hobby then texting me during school.
"Hm," I mused. "Darren, can I please borrow your laptop?"
He nodded.
I walked over to his laptop and clicked on the tiny Internet icon on the left-hand corner. Instantly the Google web page popped up. I clicked on the web address and typed Yahoo into it. I clicked "sign in" and saw I had a new message.
Dear Alphas and their Packs,
It would appear that we will have to bump up the gathering a week prior to the celebration of the Blood Moon. We are truly sorry for the in convince. Letters have already been mailed out excusing you from school and/or work. We look forward to this year's gathering.
Yours Eternally,
The House of Dens
"God dammit!" I yelled. Both Darren and Tristan jumped at the intensity of my raised voice. "Well, this f-s up my week."
I sighed. I turned to my friends. "Sorry, guys. Looks like I can't make it for our trip to Florida. I got . . . um, werewolf business I got to take care of this week."
I dared to look into their eyes. They were filled with hurt and sadness. Next was the week we planned to go to Universal Studios theme park before we went to college. It looked away, finding something to keep my focus on instead of their saddened gaze.
Darren, seeming to be the ok one about our situation, said, "It's, ok. We'll have to find a way to hook up some other time over summer break and remake this trip."
W-O-W, I thought. He is so full of himself, always trying to make it seem like it's no big deal; this act of his may fool some people, but not me. I mean, H-E-L-L-O! I'm a werewolf for god's sake.
You can't fool a werewolf; that's just plain idiotic!
Tristan sighed. As if he could read my mind, he shook his head at Darren. "Dude, you're not fooling anyone, especially her." He nodded toward me.
"Yeah, fine, whatever." He stomped out of the room with defeat, his footsteps dissipated as he headed downstairs.
I wanted to go after him but Tristan shook his head no. "Leave him. He'll calm down."
I desperately wanted to go after him, but I knew Tristan walked was right: Darren had to calm down.
With that thought, I turned toward the laptop and started typing my reply.
Dear House of Dens,
I, Alpha of the Silet Pack, acknowledge and confirm this email. I will start preparing for our flight; we too, look forward to the gathering.
Yours Eternally,
Chris Volar
I logged off, grabbed Tristan's hand and headed downstairs to Darren.
We found Darren in the kitchen making himself dinner. He turned around and pulled another pop, completely ignoring us. He reached for his turkey sandwich, but was caught in my embracing arms. He trying to break my grip, which was stupid, but my iron grip kept him in my hug.
"Darren?" I asked; I felt a deep worry for him. Usually when he goes into his own little world, he doesn't really talk into anyone--doesn't really notice anyone--it means something is really up. I turned him around and looked into his dark, brown eyes. Eyes that were starting to tear up.
"What is it? What's wrong?" I asked.
He looked right back at me; I could see he was trying to fight the tears back. "What's wrong?" His voice started to turn acidic. "What's wrong is you and your pack of mutts!"
That sent a painful spike through my heart, engulfing it with searing pain.
"What's wrong it that you always have to go on official werewolf business. How you're always gone with your pack or at the House of Dens, or how you're never here when I need you! I'm going through a lot of shit right now!"
He turned around, avoiding the concerned eyes staring at him. "I just--I just can't keep doing this. Lying for you when people asked where you were. Always worrying if I'm going to see you again 'cause there are people out there who'd just die to hang your pelt of their mantel piece. People who have a deep hatred toward you're kind of just being what you are. People, who would go out there, hunt you down and kill you without a second thought. I can't even think how I'd feel if I found out you were murdered by those retched Hunters. Just can't keep worrying about you."
My throat twisted into big knots, making it impossible to speak, let alone breathe. My stomach sent queasiness through me. My emotions cascading around me like giant ocean waves about collide with the sandy beach that is surrounds.
"D-d-Darren," I stuttered out, my voice raspy. "Darren I didn't know you felt that way about me. I just . . . I just didn't know. And I'm sorry."
He turned toward me, bewildered. "Sorry? You're sorry? I'm one who should be apologizing. It's my kind who's willingly murdering your kind--practically trying to wipe werewolves to extinction. And you're the one who's apologizing to me?"
"I'm sorry for abandoning you. I'm sorry I'm not here when you need me," I managed to whisper out.
I was surprised when Darren's arms wrapped around my neck, hugging me tightly. I smiled. "Do you want me to bite you again?"
"Oh, shut up and make yourself dinner," He said was he wiped his teary eyes.
"That's my Darren." I kissed his forehead and hugged him back.
His body tensed for a second them relaxed into the hug. He pulled back, desperately trying to hide an obvious blush.
We turned around and saw Tristan had gotten teary as well.
"What?"
"Nothing," He said, his voice giving him away. He was well aware of what just happened.
"Oh, get over it! You're emotional all the time. It's nothing to you," said Darren.
Tristan, offended by that, walked over, and snatch Darren's sandwich and pop, and walked out into the living room, taking sips from the can of Coke.
Darren stared after him. "That little rat stole my food and drink!"
I started giggling at Darren's comment.
He glared at me for half a sec and then chased after Tristan, determined to reclaim his dinner and drink back.
Aw, what was I going to with those two?
Several hours passed by the time Darren's parents, Rose and Nathan Starling, got home. They walked into the foyer with exhausted expressions. They hung their car keys on the rack near the door and trudged into the living room where well were sitting watching TV. They looked at us and smiled.
Mrs. Starling stared at me in awe as I elegantly balanced myself on the couch armrest with ease. It was one of my many gifts: werewolves have exhalent balance, almost cat-like. I could have been great at gymnastics, if I wanted to try.
Mr. Starling, who didn't seem to notice my bazaar balance abilities, asked, "So, Chris . . . how's school going for you?"
"Pretty good, I have perfect grades in all my classes." That is another werewolf ability: Perfect memory. I literally could take a nap in a class and remember everything that went on. Having a really good memory has gotten me through a lot of classes.
"What are you professing in?"
"Well, I hope to profession in music producing, but I'm planning in getting my masters degree in English."
A light smile drifted onto his face. "And how's work going for you? What do you work for again?"
I stifled an eye roll. I was so tired of people asking me what kind of work I do. What does it matter? It's gotten to a few times that I've been dying to tell the truth of what I work for. But if I told people, they'd ether laugh at me or they'd think I was insane--which I've gotten pretty close to when everybody ask me about my job.
"I work for a graphic arts designing company." The lie was obvious to everyone except Darren's parents.
"And what do you do there?" Mr. Starling asked.
I mentally gritted my teeth. "I run errands of the company."
He better notask me what kind of errands I do, I thought.
"What kind of errands do--"
He was instantly cut off by Darren saying we had things to do. He grabbed my arm and yanked my off my perch and up the stairs to his room.
"Have a good night!" I said before I was no longer in sight. I followed Darren into his room and then crawled onto his bed next to Tristan, making myself very comfortable. I watch as Darren walked over to his nightstand, pulling out the TV remote and flicked it at me. He was obviously trying to distract me. And it worked.
The TV automatically consumed the dark room with bright colors and the sound of C.S.I.: Las Vegas playing.
I looked up and saw the episode Fur and Loathing playing. "Oh, this is a good one!" Two of my favorite things: Furries and laugh-my-ass-off crimes--well, when they're fake. I don't want to seem cruel or heartless.
After 3 episodes, everybody was ready for bed. So, I turned off the TV and watched as the guys got ready for bed. Darren took his bed, of course, and Tristan rolled out a sleeping bag. I on the other hand just sat at the chair and watch. I had no intentions of going to sleep.
When everybody was lying down and the lights were off, I made my way to eerie lite window and opened it.
I heard a rustle behind me; I turned around to find Tristan staring at me. "Have a good hunt," he mumbled and then yawned tiredly.
I smiled warmly at him. "Get a good night's sleep."
He nodded and then turned away from me and within seconds, he was sound asleep. His body rose and fell as he breathed lightly.
That boy has been through a lot since he came out. I felt sorry for him, I truly did. What with his parents having a hard time adjusting to his sexuality and being picked on constantly by some homophobic idiots. He's had a rough time. But I'd say toughest thing he had to do was tell his best friends.
I hovered by the window for a second, just admiring him. "Goodnight, Tristan and Darren." In one swift move, I leap out the window--closing it behind me--and jumped down onto the rough ground.
The sweet and tender night seemed so welcoming, as I moved silently and swiftly through the suburb that surrounded me. I was like the nightly mist, never seen. Never disturbing as I drifted across the ghostly blanketed ground.