A Howl In The Night by Lorelei Sutton (life books to read .txt) 📕

"Shut up," I snap, "I'm not a crossbreed. I'm a Spier."

"Oh yeah?" His eyebrow cocked, he surveys me jestingly. "Prove it."

I glare at him, saying nothing. It is not my fault that I can't conjure a spirit spear. It's just taking some... time. And he certainly does not have to make fun of me about it.

"I thought so," he chuckles, "for now, you are a crossbreed. Do you want to see if you can shift into a dog or wolf?"

I scrunch up my eyes in anger, staring at him with murder in my eyes. Ray knows that I have already tried to do that, and ended up failing miserably.

"I'm just kidding!" Ray smiles quickly, plopping down beside me on the fountain's edge. "You can't take me so seriously."

"Actually, I can," I snort, "especially when I know for sure that you are serious."

He laughs, and for that one moment, he looks exactly like Xavier; his brown, glossy hair flipping in the wind and his eyes twinkling. "You're right," he smiles briefly, "I was serious." There is a brief pause, and then he speaks again, "I honestly don't think you are a full-fledged Spier. Maybe you will never manage to grasp the ability to form a spirit spear."

His absolutely true words hit me like a hammer, making me consider things I have never thought of before. Will I ever be able to do what a regular Spier can do easily? What might I accomplish instead?

I laughingly consider the irony of my situation. The one thing I wanted the most when deciding to become a Spier, even disobeying Xavier for the chance to get it, was the ability to avenge my parents by killing the creatures I detest. And now, even after I have gone through everything, the special Talent seems even further away than before.

"Ray, do you really and truly believe that?" I sigh, leaning up against him, marveling at the way my skin sizzles as we make contact. It is close to the way I feel with Xavier... sparks racing through my veins, exploding like fireworks. But no matter how alike they are, it still feels different, a little more dangerous and forbidding with Ray.

I watch his silent, composed face as he looks at the crystal blue water in the fountain. His green eyes are absolutely hypnotizing, an incredibly deep and slightly dark color. The scar that stretches across his cheek also attracts my attention, rough and jagged. Butterflies flitter in my stomach, awareness in my features. Is this strange reaction occurring because his face is Xavier's?

I shake my head, dismissing my thoughts. I cannot think of Xavier right now, much less his identical counterpart.

The silence spans longer, until the tension is stretched tight between us. I almost forget my own question, while fingering the fabric of my shirt, distracted by the scenery around me. Ray is almost frozen, his expression unmoving. "I hope you don't," he finally whispers softly, "for it will be even worse for you then."

"What?" I cock my head, "why worse?"

He stares at me, a dead-set expression on his face, and I suddenly know that he isn't going to say another word on this subject.

I try to prevent the terrible silence from occurring once more. "Ray, can I put my head on your thigh and try to conjure a spirit spear again?" I ask curiously, subconsciously hoping to prove him wrong. Hoping that I can do the near impossible.

He nods, then motions to the fountain. "Sure! Maybe this will help out too." With a dastardly handsome grin, he takes both of his hands and pushes me towards the water. There is a splash, and then I am submerged in the clear substance, my jeans and shirt completely soaked. He steps in also, peeling off his shirt as if it is a second skin. His tanned skin is so close, it sends sparks through my spine. "Xavier!" I squeal at him, subconsciously shivering. The fountain isn't exactly a hot tub.

His smile quickly morphs into annoyance, regarding me coldly. "I am not Xavier," he states, "and I will not be your replacement for him."

"What?" My dripping wet hand alarmingly flies to my mouth. Did I say that?

"That is what my entire life has been, from the very beginning," Ray bitterly rants, "I have always been considered to be the slightly Frankenstien-ed version of Xavier. At the bachelor auctions, I was always second to Xavier. Even Talent-wise I am lacking, just shy of him. Our looks are identical except for my ugly scar and messy hair."

"Are you twins?" I ask softly, looking into the angry eyes I know so well. They remind me of just a few hours ago, when Xavier stared at me for the first time ever with a mixture of fury, pain, and hopelessness.

"Yes," he smiles briefly, "Xavier was the oldest by 3 minutes."

"It's okay, Ray." I shoot him a bright smile, splashing him with water. "You are special in your own way. I'm not going to lie; you and Xavier DO look alike. However, people don't look at you and say 'Look, there's Xavier.' They say 'Look, there's Ray.'"

"I wish I had your confidence," Ray stares into sky, leaning back in the water, "but right now, I am nothing."

I start to lean on the center of the fountain, Ray looking at me amusedly. "I thought you said you were going to lean on my thigh," he says with a smirk.

I can't do that. Not with his tempting expression and shirtless upper torso. I'm not invincible.

"Nah, I think I will pass," I smile, edging a little bit further away from him, trying to escape from the hot guy that is almost making me drool. Ray follows me, a blur of motion until I am suddenly in his arms, unable to move. He is so close...

"Focus," he instructs me carefully, "breathe."

"How can I breathe when you are squeezing me so tightly?" I whisper harshly.

"Lean on me," Ray whispers into my ear, "pretend I am Xavier. Immerse yourself in your mind. You can succeed this time, Mona. You can do it."

I feel myself drowning in him, even though my head is far above the water. Suddenly the arms surrounding me are slightly different, feeling overflowing. It is now the arms and body of the one I love the most.

Did I just think the word love?

Alarm flashes through me, but then vanquishes as quickly as it comes. My eyes are closed, the darkness peaceful. I can feel it coming, forming in my head. It is there, if only I can grasp it.

Suddenly the shackles break, and it slips from between my fingertips. My head snaps back, and then I feel myself sinking so quickly...

In a beautiful room, lined with thick, blood red curtains and marble statues, there is a long table. A person reclines in each seat, each looking very uncomfortable, fidgeting in their position. A chubby, stumpy man is standing off to the side, pouring drinks into teacups, and then delivering them to the impatient men.

Silence is reigning over them, not even one breath heard. Each man looks like a statue, still and unmoving. It is almost like a painting, calmness in the air yet violence hanging just beyond. Annoyance and anger flits on the corner of one slender man's mouth.

"When is he going to get here?" he finally emits, his voice echoing around the large chamber. Murmurs begin, each one of agreement. They grow braver and braver, until they are speaking harshly and openly.

Then suddenly there is a hush, and the anger quells. All eyes shift to one place. The rough fidgeting begins again, surprise morphing into fear. 

The veiled man casually glides to the head of the table, a smile brimming on the edge of his lips. He does not sit, towering over the other men.

"Would you like some?" The chubby man waddles over to him, holding out a cup. The veiled man takes it from his grasp, nodding slightly.

"This emergency meeting is in session," he says, his words as smooth as syrup. It seems to relax the group, each one hanging on his words. "Anyone want to state their concern?"

"Why are you doing almost nothing to capture or kill it?" the slender man says, glaring at the veiled man, "it should be dead by now." The veiled man slowly walks over to the other man's side, a smirk still on his lips. With great satisfaction, he pours the steaming hot liquid from his cup onto the slender man's head. A yelp escapes him as he urgently presses a napkin to his head.

"You know nothing." The veiled man continued to smile, but this time it is twisted, fake. "How dare you question my efficiency in this task? That is a question I should be asking all of you. Why are all of our subjects running around, causing havoc in our world and the world below? You all should have better control over them."

There is a brief pause, and then he quietly speaks, "I hope you all had a better reason than this for arranging this meeting." All the other men ashamedly look to the ground. The veiled man surveys them quietly, the smirk finally disappearing from his features. "I hate it when idiots waste my time," he hisses, causing many of them to jump.

"Can you tell us what your plan is?" a slightly chubbier man with raven black hair in the corner of the table asks politely. He seems to be the most complacent of them all, yet has a strange, dark aura.

"Alas, that is not possible at this time," the veiled man shrugs, "I can't tell everyone in here my secrets. My plan is confidential. However, there is one thing I can inform you about."

The men all lean in, their ears perked towards the words that are going to come. They all seem to sense that this is something big.

"We are planning an ambush," he smiles, speaking boldly, "they will all be there, with limited protection. If we gather enough of our own, we can take them."

"Where is there?" the black-haired man asks, curiously looking at the veiled man.

Gasps reverberate around the room as the he releases his answer.

~Xavier~

I never should have blown my top.

Her attitude infuriates me, yet interests me. Her every move makes my blood sizzle, yet attracts me as well. Why does she have to keep me guessing at every turn? Why can't she just say I love you too?

A guy can only take so much, even if the girl is your mate.

I walk down the hallway, guilt nipping at my skin. Mona was in a bad mood when she said that... I know she doesn't mean half of what she says. But it still hurts, even the thought inducing a sharp pain in my chest. She probably really hates me now.

I try to please her. My looks are probably the most she could ask for. I have a mansion, and she never has to do any domestic chores. The only thing she seems to be bothered with is the fact that I am different. The fact that my whole world is… was different from hers.

But she seems to grow more and more unsatisfied with each passing day, a frown ever growing on her lips. She spends more and more time with my buddies, not with me. And even this morning her smile seemed to sparkle at Wes.

I should apologize to her; make it better. I want to hold her hand, and talk to her like normal. This separation is almost more than I can bear. I can barely sense her now, our anger ripping us apart. It should not be this way.

Yes. This must end.

I troop to the door leading to the garden, following her scent. It is so sweet, so rich, like the finest of desserts. I nearly lick my lips as I push the door open, hoping to see her in the grass, playing with a bird, and then smiling at the sight of me. "I'm sorry for hurting you," she