Something Feels Off

*Hezzlie*

The phone rings and rings. He’s not answering, and I’m starting to get nervous. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him what I know. It might just make the situation worse.
Finally, when I think voicemail is about to kick in, I hear a stunned, “Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me. Hez,” I say relieved to hear his voice but not sure what to say now.
He’s quiet for a second before Dean says, “Hezzlie? How did you get my number? Does your father know you have it?”
“No, he doesn’t know,” I assure him. “I got it from my mom after my father checked my phone.”
“Clever,” he says, but then he adds, “still–be careful. You don’t need to make dear old dad mad.”
“I know.” While I don’t even see enough of my father to know what he’s like when he gets angry, the stories I heard at Moonstryker Mansion and what I’ve put together from overhearing whispers of the staff and others makes me think he’s probably a pretty nasty dude when he’s angry. “How are things there?”
“I’m actually not home right now,” he says, and I think I hear what sounds like upbeat jazz music in the background, the kind you might hear in a coffee shop. “I’m in your hometown.”
I stop breathing for a few seconds as I try to reason through what he’s said. “Wh-why is that?” I stutter.
“Making sure your mom is okay,” he admits. “She is, by the way. She’s just fine. But we were just concerned that her existence might irritate certain people.”
Again, I’m confused at first, but then I think about my evil stepmother, and I am on the same page as him. “Keep her safe, Dean. Take her home with you if you have to. She loves you, you know?”
He chuckles. “I think she wants you to love me, but I’m a little young for her.”
That makes me laugh, too. “I don’t think she loves you like that,” I clarify. The idea of my mom and Dean together grosses me out enough that I stop laughing. “Uhm, how are things at home, then? Do you know?”
“Fine,” he says, and I can almost hear him shrugging. “Everyone misses you, but other than that, we’re doing good. I’ve been there most of the time that you’ve been gone. We rotate through checking on your mom. There’s always someone around so she stays safe.”
He’s changed the subject pretty quickly, but I have to go back. “I’m sure everyone doesn’t miss me.”
“No, that’s not true,” he corrects me. “Everyone does. Even Rowan.”
“Bullshit,” I mutter. “If he misses me at all it’s because of that stupid–whatever it’s called.” I hesitate to say the words on the phone for fear someone is somehow listening in. For all I know, my room is bugged.
“Nah, that’s not the only reason,” Dean assures me. “He’s not an easy nut to crack, but he really is a good guy, once you get to know him. He loves his sister a lot.”
I can tell. I keep those words to myself and ask instead, “How is Mara, anyway? Is she doing okay?”
“She’s fine. Happy to be home.” His tone seems off, and for a moment, I think maybe he’s lying to me, but then, I’m so happy to hear that Mara isn’t as grumpy and out of sorts as Aiden that I decide maybe I’m wrong about this whole situation.
Maybe Mara isn’t Aiden’s mate. After all, I don’t know that for sure, and only Abby’s speculation and listening to rumors makes me think that could be the case. Just because I saw a bite mark on my brother’s back, that doesn’t mean that Mara is his mate. It could be anyone. He might just miss playing his music with her because it was fun. They did spend a lot of time together over the last five years, after all, and now she’s just gone.
“Hez? Are you okay?” Dean asks me, and I wonder if I drifted off far enough that I missed something.
“Yes, I”m fine. Sorry. I just… I'm glad to hear Mara is okay.” I think maybe I should go ahead and tell him the truth, that I think that maybe Mara and Aiden are mates, but then, what can he even do about it? Probably nothing. It’s not like Rowan will somehow work with my father to get the two love birds back together. Rowan is suffering through whatever affliction comes along with being away from his mate, so he’d just tell his sister to do it, too.
“I should probably go,” Dean says. “I need to get back over to your house and stand around in the woods.”
“That sounds… creepy,” I tell him with a giggle. “You know, if you actually went inside, she’d probably bake you cookies and let you sleep in my old bed.”
“I’m sure she would, but Rowan doesn’t want her to think there’s any reason for us to be hanging around. He doesn’t want her to worry,” he explains, and that makes sense to me.
All but the part where Rowan gives a shit about someone other than himself.
“All right. Take care, Dean. Tell James, Wilma, and Natalie I said hi next time you see them.” I feel myself starting to choke up. I need to get off the phone.
“Will do. Be careful, Hez. You can’t trust those people, even if they’re your family.”
“I know,” I tell him, and I know he’s right. I tell him goodbye and hang up. Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t even know what I’m upset about. I can’t be sad about Rowan. A person can’t cry over something they never had. Dean is a good friend, but I’ve got lots of friends back home I haven’t seen in far longer than it’s been since I last saw him. So that doesn’t make any sense either.
I wipe my eyes and suck it up. I’m just lonely, confused, and unsure about my future. Those are plenty of reasons for most people to cry, but my mother didn’t raise a baby.
I’ll get through this–one way or another.

***
*Rowan*

It’s been almost two weeks since Hezzlie left–since I sent her away. I spend more and more time staring out the window at Darksky Castle and less and less time doing anything constructive. My chest hurts so badly, it’s hard to breathe. I pretend that nothing’s wrong, but James has caught on and started offering me medication–something I refuse to take. So he switched to tonics and herbs, the sort of cures our people have used for centuries. I don’t want to take those either. With my mother still in a deep depression, denying that Mara is her daughter, and my sister walking around like a zombie, I have to keep my head on straight.
Mara hasn’t gotten any better. We’ve looked into the possibility that she’s under a magic spell. My contact at Darksky has confirmed there’s a wizard there, though no witches. He’s looking into whether or not Mara had much contact with the jackass, a guy named Alistair, but the situation is touch-and-go. He has to be careful not to get caught.
In the meantime, I stare out the window at a moonless sky thinking back to the night of the full moon and how beautiful Hezzlie’s body had been in the silver beams of that bright orb. The inconstant moon moves in a constant cycle. It’s predictable. We know what to expect. I wish I could say the same about my life, but right now, I feel lost.
It’s the middle of the night, and the house is eerily quiet when I get a strange feeling that something is wrong. Call it instinct or intuition or just having a clear head on my shoulders, but I decide to leave my post of staring at the castle and go out into the hallway.
The scent of Mara’s perfume is noticeable, though it’s faded a bit, as if she’s been here recently but obviously isn’t here now. I track her down the hallway, down a floor, and around the corner toward my mother’s room. I have no idea what she could be doing up this time of night or why she would be seeking out mother, but I have a strange feeling about the situation.
Maybe she’s suddenly broken out of her trance and wants to say hello to our mother for the first time as herself.
Mother’s door is slightly ajar, which is unusual. Another scent hits my lungs as I approach. Mara’s perfume is mingled with the sour, metallic scent of blood.
“Mara?” I call out, picking up speed. “Mara, are you in here?”
I push through the door and trip–over a body. Confusion washes over me as I struggle to keep my eyes on the scene in front of me and still step over what I can only assume is Mother’s night nurse lying on the floor.
Mara has a knife in her hand, and she’s plunging it over and over again into our Mother’s body. Mother’s face is frozen in horror as she stares at her only daughter, covered in blood splatter.
“Die, bitch! Die!” Mara shouts over and over again.
“Mara!” I scream, moving toward her.
She turns the knife in my direction. “And you’re next!”