The Luna's Bodyguard [a mature werewolf romance]

Ch 13: Aurora

AURORA'S POV

It took forty-five minutes to walk into town. Thirty minutes to grab one of everything in the town's meagre grocer and wait for the old man at the till to count the correct change (and that was allowing for the first two tries, because he usually got it wrong). Another thirty to scour every shelf in the town's tiny travelling library, set up in the back of an old school bus. And then forty five minutes to walk back to Twatts, the run-down inn where we were staying.

It had been twenty-four hours since my sister left. Ophelia really should have been back by now.

When I asked Graham if he'd seen her, the old man shrugged. "I left early," he claimed, but there was a fogginess in his eyes that had nothing to do with the drink he'd been guzzling alongside his brother ever since. It was a wonder there was anything left to serve. "Didn't see nothing."

"What about those customers?" I asked, recalling the bell that had rung as I went off to nap. "What did they look like?"

"Rich," Graham said through a yawn. "But they busted up my glassware and paid fuck all. Now, here's the deal, girly. If yer sister ain't gonna come back, ye can do 'er shifts for no pay and keep the room, or ye can get the hell out. I don't need any more mouths to feed."

Ophelia would have haggled. Or told him where to shove it. Or she might even have twisted his arm until he cried and gave in. She always knew what to do.

But I wasn't brave like her; I just balled up my fists and fought back tears.

The urge to go back to my room was strong. It wasn't the shitty bed that called to me, but the ancient tome I'd left under my pillow. Every time I brought it out, Ophelia's eyes glazed over and she shook her head like she was trying to ward off a buzzing gnat.

She only ever saw whatever I told her to see. Advanced Chemistry. Modern History. Abnormal Psychology.

Unless I tried to tell her the truth, of course. Then her headache would worsen as she doggedly tried to grapple with the truth beneath the glamour, until she was screaming in pain and pulling out her hair. I always gave in and grabbed the book again, shoving it in her face and spouting some ridiculous lie. Like: I'm studying to become a veterinarian, remember?

The grimoires had been mailed to our address for as long as I could remember, no matter how often it changed. What I couldn't remember was what was actually in them; whenever I opened a tome the time went by in a blur, and I would only come back to myself if somebody interrupted the reverie or I finished the book altogether.

I couldn't even remember what I read at the end of the day. Just that they were made up of scratchy runes and convoluted diagrams and my mind translated them effortlessly, automatically, like I'd done it a hundred times before. And yet every time I came back to myself, I felt like I was balancing on the knife's edge of tired and hyperactive, like I'd pushed beyond the barrier of exhaustion and broken into a new reserve of strength.

What would Ophelia do? I asked myself, while Graham stared and waited for me to reply, grinning like he'd caught a rat in one of his traps. Ophelia always knew what to do next. It was how we'd survived this long.

"She'd find me," I realised aloud.

Graham frowned. "What's that, girl?"

"I said I'm leaving. And you're going to give me a lift. And all of the tips you've been withholding from my sister," I added, jutting my chin defiantly.

He barked a short, sharp laugh, but I wasn't joking. Ophelia would never willingly stray from my side; she had a weird obsession with my safety that wouldn't allow her to go one day without checking up on me. That she'd lasted 24 hours meant she'd either broken whatever spell bound us together or she was in trouble, and I was willing to bet the latter.

I had to go after her. I'd been waiting years for a chance to make it up to her, after everything she'd sacrificed to keep me safe from the Crown's bounty hunters. I could only presume that the rich strangers who'd come into town were another lot, and she'd gone along with them willingly to shake them off my trail. Hell, she'd probably even tricked them into thinking they had the right girl.

Which they did, but she didn't know that.

Emboldened by my choice, I ran out to my rooms and shoved everything in a bag, gripping the leather-bound grimoire tight. Graham was exactly where I left him, feet kicked up on the bar, eating stale peanuts as he watched daytime tv. I thrust the grimoire into his face and watched the muscles in his cheeks sag as the haze set in.

All I had to do was tell him where to go.

"To Dornoch," I said, holding all that I owned on my back.

To the Crown Pack.

Thoughts? Predictions?

What do you think Aurora's learning whenever she reads the book?

Love,
Lyra xxx