Secrets From My Mate

Chapter Four

The History Teacher

I woke up in a sweat. I'd had another dream about Hekate. It was odd. I was standing in a desert beneath a full moon and a beautiful woman with apple-red hair was loose in the wind. The woman held her hands out to me, offering me something that I desperately wanted but didn't know what it was. Hekate, still 17, stood behind her looking straight at me. Hekate was telling, begging me not to take it, to turn away and never look back. I felt so drawn to the woman though. I was drifting towards her, reaching out my hand. I'd almost reached her when my alarm went off, waking me instantly.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to shake off the dream. Already it was slipping away like water through my fingers. The more I tried to grab at it, the further away it got. By the time I'd finished showering it was gone completely.

I donned skinny jeans and a black, long sleeved tunic. I roughly yanked my fingers through my wet hair before putting it in a sloppy ponytail. I shoved my half-completed homework in my bag and pulled on my boots from yesterday.

I heard footsteps approach my door. I smirked and waited for one of my brothers to knock. I grinned. It was Colt. I heard a soft thump as he leaned against the door. "Hey, Kit! Time to wake up!"

I resisted the urge to chuckle and swung my door open, jumping back to avoid being hit by Colt as he fell into my room. He landed on the floor with a loud thud.

"Good morning," I chirped cheerfully.

"I hate you," he groaned into my dark brown carpet.

I leaned down and patted him on the shoulder. "I love you too. Is Lane up?"

Colt rolled over onto his back. "No, not yet. Why?"

"Nothing," I replied, already halfway down the hall. I raced down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Morning dear," Gran greeted from the stove where she was making scrambled eggs. "Why are you in such a rush? You and your brothers still have 30 minutes before you need to leave."

I grinned mischievously. "I thought I'd wake Lane up for breakfast." I filled a cup with cold water and sprinted back upstairs before Gran could stop and/or scold. I stopped at Lane's door to listen. No sound. Good, he's still asleep. I carefully turned the knob and opened the door with out a sound. Light from the hall spilled into his room, landing on a bundle in his bed. Perfect. Without a sound I made my way across the room to his bed, then I threw the water onto him and bolted. I slid down the banister on the stairs, landing flawlessly at the bottom.

I was almost back to the kitchen by the time my name rang throughout the house. "NIKITA!"

Gran clucked her tongue at me. "Child, how many times have I told you not to do that?"

"507," I answered automatically. "Including now, 508. Lane, 97. Colt, 74. Sage, 24. Uncle John, 103. Papa, 85. Kyle, 32. Gabriel, 15. Lucy, 46. And Sarah, 32."

The corner of Gran's mouth twitched up, not surprised that I keep count and know it off the top of my head. We both turned our heads as a sopping wet Lane came stomping into the kitchen, holding the now empty cup.

He glared at me. "I hate you."

I smiled sweetly. "Lane, dear brother, do you know that you're wet?"

He's scowl deepened. "No, I didn't. Thank you for pointing it out, Nikita."

"You're welcome," I replied happily.

Gran stepped around me and took the cup from Lane. "Lane, dear, you're making a puddle. Why don't you go get ready and breakfast will be ready by the time you're done."