Twenty-one

Shaking her head, Grace climbed into the front seat next to Cam. It felt as if she were coming out of a fog. “What…” 

“Sorry about that. You’ll stay muddled for awhile.” The auburn-haired man gave her a vaguely apologetic smile, “Genny back there is out of it but I didn’t want to have to drug you too.”

“They called her, umm… Bas called her Sibbi, I think, and some of the others called her Vivi. Eli always called her Genevieve, it was more formal.”

“Sibbi,” Fitz sounded amused behind her. “I like that. What is Bas short for?”

“I don’t know, I only heard him called ‘Bas’.”

“I knew a guy named Barry who went by Bazz, or it could be a shortening of Sebastian?” Cam pulled the van out of the rest stop back onto the interstate.

“Either one is better than Farrin. He may have changed his name when his father went into a coma, I remember hearing that he’d gone a little wild.”

“What did he do?” Grace glanced back over her shoulder and saw Fitz laying close to Genevieve and gazing down at her as she slept.

“He started going out to clubs, meddling in the old man’s business matters, and spending money like he was the last of the line. But I suppose he is. Dara is dead and I wouldn’t expect either of them to be able to breed with the wolves. The Servant is usually married off to any available daughter, his children are valuable.”

“No one expected the lines to be able to cross with the ordinaries either. Not and still produce those with gifts.” Cam reached over and turned her face back to the front. “Give them a little privacy. I was always told that Sibyls are sweet. Tell me, did you speak to her before the Bathim took you?”

Grace nodded and started to tell them about how the woman seemed to be a ball of cheerfulness and energy but the moment her brother was insulted she became fierce. That seemed to amuse Cam immensely.

“She spends her time making windows for them and her brother spends all of his time taking care of her.” It sounded like Fitz adjusted himself in the bed as he spoke.

“They should have appreciated his tasks more, if they had kept them together the Bathim couldn’t have taken her.”

“Why did he allow her to go with the wolves in the first place.” Fitz sighed. “He should have kept her safe.”

“Why do you keep saying wolves? I don’t understand.” 

Cam laughed and smiled out at the road, “Was one of the men there sniffing around you?”

“I’ve been talking to Eli since he came to the Fine Arts-”

“He decided you were going to be his mate. This ‘Eli’ is a werewolf. They usually stick to their own but when the numbers are getting low or they have more males than females, they go looking for new blood. At least that’s what I learned from my mother. She has books on them. There may even be a way to free the Sibyl and the Servant from them.” 

He glanced in the rearview and grinned, shaking his head and Grace tried to turn and look but he cupped her cheek as she turned, without taking his eyes off of the road.

“I think he’ll want to ask my mother if he can look at the books. If the Sibyl has already been tampered with it wouldn’t hurt anything to let him marry her.”

The words felt important but they were impossible to process, instead she focused on Genevieve. “She loves her husband. Eli said he saved her life in more ways than one. He built her a house and they live there with her brother and his wife. It’s a creepy cute family that works, they’re all ridiculously close.”

“Creepy cute?”

“He told me a story, that Bas’ wife and Genevieve were talking about making a cake and by the time they decided they wanted to make it and his wife called, Bas had already bought all the ingredients because he knew his sister would need them. He was already on his way home. It’s creepy but it’s cute.”

Cam laughed and nodded. “So she bakes, as well. What about you, I don’t think we’ve asked your name.”

“I’m Grace, and yes, I bake. She was really excited about my cheddar bread.”

He looked over with a grin and then back to the road, “I’ll have you write out a list of ingredients when we get where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” 

His smile faded and he glanced at her again before breaking into laughter, “I’m sorry, I forgot for a second, you’re still muddled. You won’t understand anything for hours. Don’t worry about it, Gracie. Just enjoy looking out the window and sitting up front for a while.”

She stared quietly out of the window watching the flat miles go by in the early morning light and shivered as she looked at a sign. “It’s like in a dream where you can’t read anything.”

Cam laughed again. “It is, Gracie. I think we can turn on some music if we do it quietly, they’re asleep back there. What do you like to listen to?”

“Oh, um, Florence and the Machine is good, Arctic Monkeys-”

“Panic! At the Disco? Fitz listens to that stuff.”

“Panic! Is good, so is AFI, but you really have to be in a particular mood for it.”

Grinning, Cam glanced in the rearview, “Fitz is always in the mood for it. I like things a little more mellow. Do you know Freakwater? Chip Taylor & The New Ukrainians?”

“No, are those bands or…”

He laughed and pointed at the glovebox. “I have my music in there, get it out and-”

“You’re not playing that stuff around the Sibyl,” Fitz muttered, “Even if she’s asleep. It’s bad enough she sings Tom Waits.”

“He’s actually pretty good.” 

Grace turned around as she spoke and Fitz glowered at her. He was cuddled up with Genevieve with an arm and a leg thrown over her, his head on her shoulder. 

“I think I know what song she was singing earlier. Gracie, get the iPod out of the glovebox and queue up Mumford and Sons.”

She managed to get the mp3 player out and plugged in but, rubbing her eyes, she pushed it at Cam, “I can’t read it.”

Fitz snorted. After a moment, Cam took it and glancing from the device to the road and back managed to get a song playing. It hadn’t been playing long when Grace was suddenly sure that it was the right one.

“Yes! That’s it! That’s-”

“Let me hear the lyrics, turn it up and start it over.” Fitz commanded from the back. 

“Thistle and Weeds.” Cam nodded. 

After the song finished he glanced in the rearview, “It has strong biblical undertones.”

“And literary.” Grace leaned back in the seat, adjusting her robe so that it stayed closed.

“How so?” Cam gave her a curious look.

“It’s very Wuthering Heights, if you-”

“Play it again.” Fitz insisted from the back.

The song was played again.

“When you mention Wuthering Heights I can see it.” Cam gave her an appreciative look.

“I majored in English the first time through college.”

“I wonder if Genny went to college.”

“She mentioned that school was never her thing, she picked up glasswork from her foster dad. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like to read. Some people hate school because they get bullied or-”

“She probably hated it because they jammed her in a room with twenty other children and she couldn’t focus.” Cam grimaced, “I had the same problem at first. Once they realized I had certain gifts I was homeschooled.” 

“When we get home we can wake her and find out.” Fitz yawned, letting them keep playing the music.