Casters of Oblivion

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight

Chapter 19: Secrets

Eleanor's POV

Tap

Tap

Tap

I blinked a few times, the exhaustion losing the battle of falling asleep. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, wondering what that noise was. It was tapping. At first, I thought it was a tree branch or an animal. It was a logical explanation since there was a maple tree by the Cabin.

Tap

Tap.

Wait a minute. That didn't sound like a twig scraping along the window or a squirrel. It almost sounded like pecking, yet it was too loud to be a bird, especially at this time of night. It was a clattering sound—the sound of pebbles hitting the window.

"Eleanor!" A harsh whisper called out.

I climbed out of bed, turning a lamp on before walking to the window. There stood Jacob, wearing nothing but cutoffs and sneakers. Why is he here? Last I checked, he doesn't want to be friends anymore. Jacob gestured to open the window. I sighed, doing so.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked quietly, not to disturb my coven sisters but loud enough for Jacob to hear.

"Back up," Jacob said, stepping back. "I'm coming up."

"What?"

Jacob didn't bother as he climbed up the tree. His movement was fast as he swung his limbs to climb and kick until he got on the porch's roof. The wood creaked under his weight as he took two giant steps until ducking his head and climbed into my room. The time and speed did not seem normal. How he moved reminded me of a circus performer or adrenaline junkies performing parkour.

I stepped back. For a second, I stared at my attire and sighed in relief. I was in a tank top and pajama shorts. Then I looked at him with a gasp and saw his physical change. Why is he roaming around without a shirt? Hell, there was a slight chill in the air, and he was walking around like it was summer in Florida. Jacob took a deep breath. His dark eyes focused on my own. There were many emotions, and the tension had simmered in awe. As if he hasn't seen me in months.

"Hey," he greeted softly.

I crossed my arms.

Jacob noticed this as he stepped forward, arms out to give a hug. "Look, I'm sorry."

I forced one hand over his chest at an arm's length to keep distance. His temperature was still hot, as if he was still sick. Yet he did not appear to be ill. His heartbeat rapidly under my touch. In the end, he stopped.

I pulled my hand back, narrowing my eyes at him, "For what?"

"I wish I could explain," he said, getting frustrated. "But I literally can't."

Jacob walked around me, stopping at the foot of the bed. His eyes focused on the dreamcatcher that hung on the headboard. Then his attention turned to the nightstand where the Vervain pendant that Billy gave me rested. He gave a sigh, turning around to face me.

"Have you ever had a secret you couldn't tell anyone?" Jacob asked, sitting down on the bed. "Well, that's what it's like for me."

I bit my bottom lip, for he had me there. The secret of being a Caster. For some reason, I couldn't lie and nodded.

He nodded back, "But worse."

"Jacob," I sighed, trying to understand his situation.

"You have no idea how tightly I'm bound," he added.

"I hate this," I murmured, coming over and combing my left hand through his chopped hair while my right hand rested on the Quileute tattoo. "This is not you. What did they do to you?"

At first, I thought Jacob was drafted into a gang. But seeing how he is reacting…it almost seemed like a cult. Cults prefer to keep secrets to keep their members together. So the stray sheep don't leave the herd. Jacob is a free spirit. He is bound to no one but his family.

Jacob removed my left hand and caressed my wrist. His dark eyes linger on my mark, staring at the tattoo of the Moon's blessing. I mentally curse, forgetting to put a glamor spell on it. Only another Caster could see this mark, and now I appeared a hypocrite. His warm fingers traced over the crescent moon before staring at me with amazement and anger. The anger faded away, replaced with understanding.

"It's not their fault," he murmured. "Really."

He grumbled, "I wish I could just explain."

He then stood up, towering over me as I stood back.

"I mean, the killer part is, you already know." He added.

"Know what?" I asked, getting frustrated myself. I was still mad at him and exhausted after everything that had transpired in the last three days. All I wanted to do was go to sleep.

Jacob noticed this and took a deep breath, "Ella, do you remember when we walked on the beach at La Push? The…" he stammered, his lips forming a sharp line. "The st-"

I paused, trying to remember that day. My high school friends invited Ginger and me to join them for a beach excursion at First Beach in La Push. As everyone changed into their wetsuits, Jacob, Embry, and Sam came over for a surprise visit, and the Cullens were mentioned. Sam said the Cullens don't come to the Reservation. Out of curiosity, I asked.

"The stories," I finished. "We traded stories."

Jacob nodded with a smile.

"The stories about Maria Owen…."

"And?"

"Your Great-Grandfather…. making a treaty with the Cold Ones…."

Jacob nodded to continue.

"And…wolves…something about wolves…."

His eyes dropped slightly from disappointment, for I didn't continue. I was so tired that all I wanted to do was sleep.

"I guess I understand why that's the only part you remember," he whispered sadly.

"I'm tired, Jacob," I yawned.

Jacob nodded as he placed a hand on my shoulder, staring deep into my eyes. "Tell me something, El. Did you honestly not know? Was I really the one who told you what they were?"

I took a deep breath, "You've opened the door."

"See what I mean about loyalty?" he taunted, moving away and walking to the dresser. He rested his elbows on it while face in his hands, groaning.

I was never loyal to the Cullens. Did I respect a few of their members for Zelena and Ginger's sake? I did. But I was never truly friends with them. I tolerated them. If they were a different breed of vampire, then maybe, just maybe, I would have given them friendship. But the Cold Ones were the enemies of the Casters. I had to respect the laws of the Supernatural to keep their secret; otherwise, the Volturi would get involved. The same vise-versa of them holding my coven secrets. It was not loyalty unless you asked Ginger. It was a neutral convenience.

Whatever Jacob was going through was entirely different. Loyalty. At this moment, I no longer know what that word means. Since the people around me break their word and stab you in the back. What Sam and his gang are doing keeps Jacob trapped with them. Have they threatened Billy? His father was diabetic and relied on a wheelchair. Could they have threatened Billy's safety if Jacob didn't join? No…Billy was a strong figure in the Quileute community, a Council member, and an elder. They wouldn't dare harm him.

So what is it that is keeping Jacob trapped?

"There's gotta be something we can do?" I asked.

Jacob shook his head as he stood up straight, "No. I'm in it for life."

"Maybe we should just get out of here for a while?" I offered. "Just leave, just you and me for a week? I know people who can help."

Jacob stared at me, bewildered by what I had just said. I can only give us a week. It should be enough to clear our heads and devise a plan. It might not be enough time to solve the problem. Still, it allows me to contact one of the Riviera clan members who makes spiritual connections and manipulates people. Whatever string tying him to Sam…. maybe they can sever it.

"You'd do that?" he asked.

I bit my lip and nodded, "I would do it for you."

Jacob shook his arm, trying to control himself as he turned away, "It's not something I can just run away from, Eleanor." He took a deep breath, staring at me with those expressive eyes. "But I would run away with you…if I could."

My body shook while my eyes watered.

This secret was killing us.

"I gotta go," he murmured, making his way to the open window. "They'll start wondering where I am."

By instinct, I grabbed his shoulder, not wanting him to go. I didn't want him to go back to them, not back to Sam. Jacob turned around and hugged me. His embrace engulfed me. His heat consumed me, melting away any coldness I felt. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close.

"Please," he pleaded softly. "Try to remember. It be so much easier if you knew."

He pecked the top of my head before pulling back. I held on, except Jacob mustered the strength to gently manipulate my arms to let go of him.

"Jake…" I whispered.

He made his way towards the window with a slight smile and climbed out. My eyes widened in panic. I rushed over to stop him. I called after him to stop. He stood at the edge and leaped off. I gasped, covering my mouth to suppress a scream. It happened so fast that I could hardly grasp what happened to the use of magic. There was a loud thud.

I climbed over the window onto the porch's roof and stopped to see Jacob jogging away into the forest.

That is when I realized Jacob Black was not human. I sat there for a moment, comprehending everything that transpired in the last few weeks…maybe months—the sudden growth spurts and muscle density, the mood swings, the drastic body temperature, and, after tonight, the unexplainable strength and endurance.

That was a thirteen-foot drop. Any average person who jumped off that height would have broken or fractured a bone or worse. However, Jacob jumped off and jogged away with ease.

Jacob was no longer human.

Was he even human in the first place?

I climbed back inside and tried to remember everything about the Quileutes. Their legends were so sacred that not many knew of their stories. All I can recall from what Jacob told me is that they were descended from wolves or brothers to wolves. How his Grandfather, Ephraim Black, encountered the Cullens and made a treaty with Carlisle to not expose their secret to the Palefaces. How the Cullens were Cold Ones.

Wolves.

Wolves.

Wolves.

Then a thought came to mind, "He can't be?"

No, he couldn't possibly be a Child of the Moon. In other words, a werewolf. The Were race in the Canine species has been diminished for many centuries. There were a few breeds that survived from the Lycans and Loup-Garoux. The Lycans take more of a hybrid form of man and beast, while the Loup-Garoux take the form of a wolf. Both breeds have to transform during the full moon. Unless…this is a cursed gene. Some werewolves roam around North America that come under a curse. Like all werewolves, they transformed during the full moon; they only had yellow eyes, sharp teeth, and talons.

No…that can't be it.

Lycans have been European since Lycaon tricked the gods in ancient Greece. The Loup-Garoux were in northern and eastern Europe. As for the Curse Werewolf in North America…Jacob hasn't shown interest in raw meats and reacting to the scent of blood.

Then I recalled encountering a Natural Caster back in Salem during a ball. She explained that the Native Americans on the East Coast had werewolves who changed into wolves on the full moon. It was a recessive gene, and the Werewolf could only inherit their supernatural ability… by killing a person. With the Natives marrying out of their tribe, it is impossible to tell who holds the recessive gene.

The hikers.

I sat down on the bed, comprehending what I had just thought. There have been reports of six missing hikers. Could the tribes on the east coast turning into a werewolf be the same for the Quileutes? Six people are missing and are presumed dead. I tried to remember the members of Sam's gang: Sam, Paul, Jared, Embry, and Jacob. That's five. Could they have killed the hikers to become werewolves?

The thought devastated me.

What Jacob said about him no longer being good. Did Sam force him to kill someone? Chief Swan hasn't reported to Zelena in the last two weeks of another missing person. Unless they never found the body.

No. No. No. That can't be what the Quileutes were. Sure, their ancestors fought in wars against the other tribes and the palefaces in the past. But today…why would they want to kill again. No, I won't believe it.

I wanted to go to Zelena and demand she tell me what is going on with Jacob. She knows the answers. She always knew the answer and was holding the truth. Then again, if she had known the truth about this breed of werewolves living in the area…she wouldn't be friends with Billy. Nor is Billy being friends with Chief Swan.

I've fallen back on the bed, giving a groan.

Jacob was Supernatural, just like me. What he is…is associated with werewolves. There were so many legends surrounding the Native Americans that not all are told.

I turned to my side, staring at my nightstand where a picture frame was. A picture of Grandfather Horatio.

"Horatio," I whispered.

I jerked up with an epiphany. I leaped over to my closet in search of a box. When visiting my family in Salem, Grandmother Evangeline gave me a gift. She was a seer and held a solid spirituality to connect with the ancestors. They might have the answer to which I seek.

I pulled out the silver jewelry box and carried it to the bed. Sitting down, I open the ornate lid to pull out an ivory séance candle. This was not the usual candle used for Seances that draw spirits in. No, this kind of candle brings those of blood relations to me to talk to them in my sleep. There were no consequences. It was not like Descensum. And it can only work on blood relatives.

Placing the candle by Horatio's picture. I grabbed a knife from the nightstand drawn. With a deep breath, I cut my finger, using the blood to draw the symbol on the candle, the glass on the picture, and my forehead. Casting a small healing spell, sucking on the remaining blood, took a deep breath before pinching the wick to ignite the flame. Afterward, telekinesis was used to turn off the lights. I got under the covers.

I chanted the spell and closed my eyes, hoping this would work.

.o0o.

I found myself lying on the forest floor when I opened my eyes. Sitting up, I looked around, noting it was not the woods near the Cabin or the forests surrounding Salem. I got up, wiping the dirt off my pajama bottoms.

The sound of footsteps could be heard. I turned around, cautious in case it was James. Only this time, it was not the Tracker. No, it was a man. He wore a suit, appearing in his late forties. His skin was fair. He had salt and pepper hair, graying nearing his face and black at the top of his head. His eyes were hazel, a mixture of green and brown.

It took me a moment to recognize him. This was Horatio in the early twentieth century, not the near-elderly man.

"Eleanor," Horatio said, opening his arms.

My eyes watered as I rushed over into his embrace. Horatio wrapped his arms around me, giving me a tight hug like he used to. After a year, I still miss him. I could smell his cologne filled with spices. We pulled back as he smiled, tucking a strand of hair off my face.

"Eleanor, look how much you have grown," he murmured. "You are a woman now."

I smiled softly.

"I missed you," I murmured as the tears fell.

His smile dropped slightly when he saw the tears. "As have I."

I wanted to ask him many questions.

"Seems you have a tempest storming through your head," he noted. "What seems to be bothering you that you summon me?"

"It's my friend, Jake." I started.

Horatio cleared his throat, "I think that is something to talk with your mother about."

A small chuckle escaped my lips, "Not like that."

Horatio sighed in relief, "For a second, I thought I had to call on Edith."

I rolled my eyes.

"Let's make things easier," Horatio said as he cradled my face with both hands and stared into my eyes. It was as if the last three weeks were set on fast-forwarding seeing it all—until the recent conversation with Jacob in my bedroom. Once done, Horatio pulled back and sighed.

"You want to know what kind of werewolf your friend is?" Horatio asked.

I nodded.

Horatio removed his hands, "Children of the Moon are very complex creatures. Only one night of a lunar cycle do they lose control and become the beast within."

I nodded again.

"Then we better use your divination to find the answer," he suggested.

"How?" I asked.

Horatio smiled as he circled behind me and placed a hand over my shoulder. "Close your eyes and focus on what you are looking for. Once you grasp the feeling, open your eyes, and you shall see."

I took a deep breath and nodded. Thus, I closed my eyes and thought about Jacob. I thought about many memories in the last year since coming to Forks. When I first met Jacob at his house to get the Wagoneer. When he visited the Cabin for a Mariner's game. How he party-crashed at prom and took over Tyler's spot when my date ditched me on the dance floor. The renovation of the bikes and all the memories of Jacob soon felt a strong pull that I gasped and opened my eyes.

I saw Jacob right in front of me. He stood there in his current form, with a face crossed between him and Sam. He stood there a moment and vanished between two trees. A mist gathered around, revealing a memory from the past. The first one was walking along First Beach with Jacob.

"Well, they're supposedly descended from this, like, enemy clan. The Cold Ones." He explained. "There are stories of the Cold Ones as old as the wolf legends and some much more recent. According to legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land. You see, the Cold Ones are the natural enemies of the wolf—well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves. So, you see, the Cold Ones are traditionally our enemy. But this pack that came to our territory during my great-grandfather's time was different. They didn't hunt the way others of their kind did. They weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe . . . so we made a treaty with them. If they promised to stay off Quileute lands, then we wouldn't expose what they were to the palefaces. There's always a risk for humans to be around the Cold Ones, even if they're civilized like this clan was. You never know when they might get too hungry to resist."

The vision changed working on the bikes with Jacob getting the motor started.

"Did you know Quileutes are supposedly descended from wolves?"

The vision changed of me walking through the forest and encountering the Guardians of the woods. Only this time, I could see their actual form. Every encounter with the black alpha, the gray and dark brown wolf. The addition of the spotted wolf.

The scene changed to the movie theater. We had a conversation with Jacob on the bench about our feelings. There was a faint whisper that was my own saying.

I wish you were just like me.

I wish you were part of the supernatural.

The vision transformed to driving as the russet wolf followed me along the forest edge. Impossible to see. Especially at the Clearwater residence, camouflage with the branches and trees.

The vision then goes to the confrontation with Laurent and seeing the Guardians for the first time. Then, onward to the conversation with Zelena:

"The Spirit Warriors, whose sole purpose is to protect these lands and their tribe from the enemy by manipulating the world around them. Over time, they learned to control animals. I'm not sure about the details since the legends are kept by the Quileute, but I wouldn't be surprised if the spirits came to your aid."

I thought back to the moment Ginger went missing in September. That day, the mist showed as I ran through the rain. I saw myself standing there, eyes closed, calling out to the guardians. There, the Black wolf appeared before me. The vision changed to Sam carrying an unconscious Ginger.

The fight I had with Jacob in the storm a few days ago changed to the russet wolf in the meadow. I stared into his eyes, seeing Jacob's aura mixed in with the wolf's.

I gasped, realizing Jacob was the russet wolf.

"He's not a werewolf," I concluded.

"No, he is not," Horatio said as he moved around. "Although, his species are of the Weres. He is not a Child of a Moon. His people call his kind a Spirit Warrior…but for us Casters, he's known as a shapeshifter."

"Shapeshifter," I repeated.

Horatio nodded, then sighed, "Now it's time for you to wake."

"No," I gasped, hugging him. "Not yet."

Horatio hugged me close, "We will speak again."

I sighed but nodded. There were so many questions that I needed to ask him. Did he know I had Vitalum Vitalis? Why didn't he train me to use it properly? Before the words could come out of my mouth. Horatio tapped the top of my forehead.

I blinked.

.o0o.

I open my eyes to find myself back in my bedroom in Forks.

I turned to my side, staring at the picture of Horatio. The candle had blown out, and barely an inch was consumed. A small smile graced my lips as I placed my fingers on the glass.

"Thank you," I whispered.

I sat up, giving a stretch, and realized what Jacob was. He was not a werewolf. He was a Spirit Warrior who could shapeshift into a giant wolf. There was nothing wrong with that….

Immediately, I climbed out of bed and rushed to get dressed, putting on a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a sweatshirt. I nearly fell when putting on my sneakers and rushing to the bathroom to do my morning routine, if not washing the blood off my forehead. Afterward, I put on my glasses and ran downstairs with my purse in hand.

"Where are you going?" Zelena asked.

"I gotta see Jacob," I answered, opening the door.

"And I thought you didn't want to see him again," She murmured.

I stopped, turning around to face her. "I know what he is now."

"Is that so?" She asked.

I took a deep breath, "You knew and didn't tell me."

She sighed, "It was not my place to tell."

I growled, rushing out, and headed out to the Wagoneer.

"Be back before midnight!"

For Hecate's sake!

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