EIGHT | SPIDER

I raked a brush through my unruly blonde hair early the next morning, staring out of my open balcony door to my climbing ivy. I imagined spiders spinning their webs in it, rustling around with their claw-like front legs, their fangs dripping with venom. My hairbrush caught in a knot, and I wrenched it through.

I sighed, and turned to face myself in the mirror. The chunk of hair I’d ripped my way through was stuck out to the side, so I began to work my way up it with my brush, combing slowly from the ends to the roots.

With each day that passed, I remembered how I used to look less and less. I’d had freckles, before – and lots of them. It had begun with a smattering across my nose and cheeks, which had been considered cute, for a while. Then, with each passing summer, more had gathered, crowding my forehead and chin and then spreading down, all the way to my forearms.

Though they were seen as less pretty, I supposed, when I had more of them, I’d always liked my freckles. They reminded me of the summer days I’d spent outside, dragging my friends by their arms towards rivers that I wanted to swim in, or towards trees that I wanted to climb. We’d lie flat out on the bales of hay after, looking up to the blue sky and watching the faint clouds pass by.

I’d not seen my friends for four years, now. Or... her. I missed her most of all. My freckles had faded, too, blurred out by the bite of the rogue vampire that had turned me.

I dropped my hairbrush onto my desk, and then rummaged around my makeup bag for my mascara. I slicked it onto my lashes, dragging them up until they looked like spiders’ legs, climbing from my eyes to my brows. My brown eyes were pale beneath them – a sure sign that I needed to feed properly, and soon.

Aradia had offered me some blood from her small stash upstairs, but we’d been relying on our human donors to provide the bulk of our supply. My immediate hunger had been satiated, but it wouldn’t be enough to last me more than a day – and that was at a push.

I quickly combed through my dark, thick eyebrows. Being turned had changed them, too – I’d had to meticulously pluck them, before, to give them any semblance of an arch. Now, though they were still thick, they were always neatly shaped and never needed plucking.

I pursed my lips at myself in the mirror. I looked fine, I supposed. I raked the top half of my hair up into a bun, and then turned away from my reflection. I’d used to think I was quite beautiful, and sometimes I’d tuck wildflowers behind my ears or into my hair, or weave daisies into my braids.

I’d been excited to grow older, though. I’d pull at the corners of my eyes and mouth, wanting to see where wrinkles would appear with time. I’d imagined myself with a boyfriend, and later a husband, or maybe a girlfriend, later a wife, sat down around the dinner table with my parents. We’d get a dog, or two, or three, and have a nice garden filled with flowers, and maybe we'd grow our own vegetables. I’d feed the birds in the mornings, and then we’d go for a run together, with our one or two or three dogs. Maybe we’d move somewhere new and far away, or perhaps we’d go travelling.

I wouldn’t get to do any of that, now. I shrugged on a faded orange sweater, and stepped into a pair of worn black mom jeans. I guess I sort of liked the idea of finding my nightmate, and spending our joint eternities going on adventures together.

It also meant that, until I did find them, any boyfriend or girlfriend I had would always be considered a short-term relationship. When the perfect person was out there somewhere for you, anything less would never be enough. It scared me to think that my nightmate may not have even been born yet.

My sweatshirt hung loosely down my thin frame, and it caught on my knees as I bent down to lace my white trainers. It tugged its way free as I stood abruptly, and began shoving my books into my backpack.

I was surprised that Kathrena had not banged on my door yet, but I was not sure of the time. Perhaps I was up earlier than usual. Or perhaps she was occupied with her thoughts, as she had been so often lately.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, grabbed my car keys from my desk, and headed out of the door.

It was drizzling a bit outside, so when I reached my truck I jumped straight in. I chucked my bag onto the empty passenger seat, and tapped my foot against the still pedals while I waited. At eight-thirty in the morning, it was early for me, but late for Kathrena. Since starting at Aspen High, her behaviour had been downright odd.

Then again, I supposed it had been a tumultuous few days. Perhaps she too had caught the scent of the werewolf, and, like me, had wanted to keep it to herself. It would be out of character for her, but then again – I didn’t know Kathrena all that well to begin with.

She appeared out of the mist, her black bob strewn behind her as she ran. She hurriedly tucked it behind her ears, and I watched amusedly in the rear view mirror as she smoothed down her floral dress and denim jacket. She took a deep breath, and I quickly looked away as she opened the truck door.

“Hi,” she wheezed, pushing my backpack down into the foot well. She carefully held hers on her lap, and I resisted the urge to snort.

“You okay?” I asked, turning to her with a grin.

“Fine,” she said, her nostrils flared. “I just – I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“What?” She frowned.

I shrugged. “I could hear you giggling, Kath. I won’t tell anyone you’re acting weird, but you might want to tone it down a little. Especially if Falmer notices - he will make sure everyone else in the Clan knows that you’ve been… laughing.” I paused for dramatic effect, and let my eyes shift around the truck faux-nervously.

Kathrena, to my utmost surprise, actually let out a real, genuine laugh. “Point taken,” she said, and then she buckled herself in. “On a more serious note, El – what happened with the donors last night?”

As we pulled out onto the winding driveway, I let out a small sigh. I supposed that the fact she moved from her secret to something more serious suggested that she wasn’t keeping anything too dark or dangerous to herself, but I’d hoped to push the events of last night to the back of my mind.

The rain began to thunder down on the roof of the truck, and I gave another shrug.

“The humans were attacked. They said it was a Clan member coming to feed, but the vamp snuck in. Aradia doesn’t think it’s one of us. I think we’re going to start setting up patrols. Maybe there are some rogues in town that sniffed us out, and caught the scent of the humans. I wouldn’t worry about it. The humans are safe now, and Aradia and Ezrand will take care of the rest.”

“I guess so,” Kathrena said, gnawing at her lip anxiously.

As I pulled into Aspen High’s car park, I felt immediately on edge. I wondered if it was the hunger, pulling at my canines and burning in my throat, but it was more than a need. It was equally as primal, but less of a desire; something to evade rather than something to capture. It felt like… fear.

I shook myself. I just had to get through today. My second period was History, and I knew without a doubt that there was a wolf in that class somewhere.

I’d been unable to commit any time to research last night, with the situation regarding the human donors as it was. I’d spent a large portion of the evening sat with Aradia and Ezrand, until at long last they’d suggested I get some rest.

I’d chosen to politely ignore their suggestion, and had instead lain awake, coming up with schemes and plots – all of which involved the unmasking of the Aspen High werewolf.

My first period was Science, which I well and truly despised. I had little time for understanding the ways of the world; I preferred to learn about the interactions that happened within it. Drama had always been my favourite before, and I’d revelled in acting out poetry or prose, feeling as though my very soul was alight with the words written by those of centuries gone by. English Literature had been a close second, and I'd pored over the words, filled with turbulent emotions like love, and pain, and fear, that I'd recited with such passion in Drama.

Science, however, was bland to me. Kathrena loved it, and had once described it as “magic, but – it’s real, Ellis!”

I’d rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but so is actual magick. You’re a vampire, remember?”

She’d merely shrugged, her pointed chin thrusting up into the air. “I like it.”

Science, therefore, passed incredibly slowly. But as I stepped into the flow of students in the hall afterwards, two unlikely things happened.

The first was the stench that hit my nostrils. It seemed that I didn’t have to wait for History, after all; the wolf was close by, right here, right now.

The second was the pair of golden eyes that met mine. His dark hair was half up today, and as I gawped at him I realised it matched mine exactly.

But the most impossible, obvious thing of all was where the scent was coming from. It was coming from him, that beautiful, golden-eyed boy.