Book 1 - Page 30 (1/2)
Ah, I thought and tried not to look as devastated as I felt. So Adam had been ordered to look after me? I had rather thought that the odd relations.h.i.+p we had was based on something else. Knowing that Bran had told him to watch me changed the shading of every conversation we'd ever had, lessened it.
”I don't like lies,” said Bran, and I knew I'd failed to keep the pain of his revelation from my face. ”Not even lies of omission. Hard truths can be dealt with, triumphed over, but lies will destroy your soul.” He looked as though he had personal knowledge of it. ”That distaste leads me to meddle where perhaps I should step back.”
He paused, as if to let me speak, but I had no idea where he was going with this.
He sat down and took another sip of cocoa. ”There were those who thought the truth of Bryan's death should be kept from you.” Bryan had been my foster father.
I remembered waking up shortly after Christmas to Bran's low-key voice in the kitchen. When I came out of my room, Bran told me that the police had found Bryan's body in the Kootenai River.
Suicide is difficult for werewolves. Even silver bullets don't always defeat the wolf's ability to heal itself. Decapitation is effective, but rather difficult to achieve in a suicidal situation. Drowning works very well. Werewolves are very densely muscled; they tend to have a difficult time swimming even if they want to, because, like chimpanzees, they have too much muscle and not enough fat to float.
”Some of the pack would have told you that Bryan had an accident.” Bran's voice was contemplative. ”They told me that fourteen was too young to deal with a suicide, especially on top of the death of Bryan's mate.”
”Her name was Evelyn,” I told him. Bran had a tendency to dismiss the humans around him as if they didn't exist. Samuel once told me that it was because humans were so fragile, and Bran had seen too many of them die. I thought that if I could handle Evelyn's death when I was fourteen, then, by hang, Bran could, too.
He gave me a quelling look. When I didn't look down as protocol demanded, his lips turned up before he hid them with the cup.
”Evelyn, indeed,” he said, then sighed. ”When you chose to live alone, rather than go to your mother, I agreed to that, too. You had proven your mettle to me; I thought you had earned the right to make your own choices.” His eyes roved around the room. ”Do you remember the last time you and I talked?”
I nodded and sat down finally. Even if he wasn't insisting on protocol tonight, it felt awkward to be standing while he was sitting in the chair.
”You were sixteen,” he said. ”Too young for him-and too young to know what it was that he wanted from you.”
When Bran had caught Samuel kissing me in the woods, he'd sent me home, then shown up the next morning to tell me that he'd already spoken with my real mother, and she would be expecting me at the end of the week. He was sending me away, and I should pack what I wanted to take.