An Arrow Ultimatum by Jillian Law

An Arrow Ultimatum by Jillian Law

“Garrett!” I screamed, trying not to panic. I was really trying, but it’s hard not to panic when there’s a trail of blood leading to my kitchen. And it wasn’t mine so…. “GARRETT!”

            “I’m in the kitchen,” he replied, his voice the even, pleasant tone it always was. I had never known Garrett to freak out about anything, not even blood. It both annoyed and comforted me. I was a tiny whirlwind of anxiety on any given day, and he anchored me to reality.

            I followed the trail of blood to our kitchen, doing my best not to step in it and smear it all over the hardwood floors. Thank God we didn’t have carpet.

And of course, there stood my boyfriend, my beautiful werewolf boyfriend, working on a pumpkin pie, an arrow stuck in his thigh. Blood oozed out of the wound and dripped onto the floor.

I could only sigh. He caught sight of me and smiled. He smiled that perfect, irresistible smile that made it hard for me to be mad that he’d clearly been shot by hunters. Again.

“Hey, babe,” he said, putting down the pie tin he was lining with crust. I narrowed my eyes. He only made pumpkin pie, my favorite, when he knew I’d be mad. “You’re home already?”

“There’s blood in the hallway,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “And in the kitchen.”

“Elle,” he tried to say, but I cut him off.

“There were hunters, and you didn’t call me?” I tried not to raise my voice, but I could tell by his wince that I had failed. I could always tell what pitch of my voice hurt his overly sensitive hearing.

“You were covering a story!” he protested, holding his hands up in the air. “It wasn’t that big of a deal!”

“There’s still an arrow in your thigh,” I pointed out. He winced, unable to say anything in his defense.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he said softly, moving towards me. He was still wincing.

“I always worry, Garrett,” I said, shaking my head. “I worry when I come home, and there’s blood on the floors, and I worry when I see you with arrows sticking out of your body. So stop trying to spare me, okay?”

I must have sounded angrier than I was because he nodded. I wasn’t angry, not really. I was tired. I was tired of seeing him hurt and cleaning up blood, and I was tired of him wanting to protect me from it. I knew what I agreed to when I fell in love with him.

“Let me pull the arrow out?” I didn’t wait for his permission. I yanked it out fast. He made a face, but the wound healed immediately. “Who was it?”

Garrett didn’t reply, and then I knew. Fuck, my brother was back in town, and I was going to kill him. Garret must have read it in my face because he grabbed my hand.

“El, don’t,” he warned. “It’s not worth it. He-”

“He what?” I repeated. “He didn’t mean to shoot you with an arrow? He did it on accident?” I could feel the blood rushing to my ears. I wanted to take my crossbow and shoot one into Mason’s thigh, see how he liked it.

“He’s an asshole, but he’s still your brother,” Garrett finished, squeezing my hand. “And it didn’t even hurt that much. He didn’t lace it with aconite.”

I sighed. Garrett let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. I leaned into him. God, this man. My brother shot him with an arrow, and Garret is just glad it wasn’t laced with poison. I’m glad too because otherwise I would have to kill Mason.

“I’m not okay with you being hurt,” I whispered into his chest. “And I’m not okay with my family being the ones hurting you.” I stopped because there were a million things I could say. I hate them for this. I wish they were different. I wish we were normal.

Again, it felt like Garrett could read my mind. He kissed the top of my head. “It’s okay,” he promised. “We’ll be okay. As long as I’ve got you to pull arrows out of my thigh, I’m good.”

I laughed. “And I’ll be good as soon as my pumpkin pie is done so get it to it!” Garrett kissed me and went back to his pie crust. I watched him bustle around the kitchen before stepping out and walking to the front door.

I opened it softly and stepped onto our porch. It wrapped around the entire house, making it my favorite spot to think, read, clean my crossbow… and make phone calls.

I wasn’t surprised it went straight to voicemail. “Mason, it’s me. We need to talk. Meet me at our old spot. Tomorrow, noon.” I hesitated. “And keep your arrows OUT OF MY BOYFRIEND.”

I hung up. I could see Garrett through the window. He was still in the kitchen, filling the now-lined tin with pumpkin filling. He wouldn’t be happy with what I had just done, but what choice did I have? My brother couldn’t be left unchecked, and I didn’t want any more blood shed. Especially if it was going to end up on my floor.

            I sat on a log, messing around with my phone until I realized it was pointless. I had no service out here. I should have remembered that, but it had been years since I’d been out to the old campgrounds. Last time I was here, I had braces and pigtails and an undying belief in my family. It’s funny how I outgrew all those things.

            My family used to do a yearly trip here when I was a kid. My dad said it was good for us to be connected to our hunting roots. My mom said that my dad and uncles just liked to hunt wild game illegally in the forest and drink beer. Mason told me to ignore them and that he’d take me out to practice my archery after everyone else went to bed.

            Our yearly camping trip used to be my favorite thing in the world. Mostly, I loved it because it meant the undivided attention of my brother. Even though there were plenty of older cousins and uncles to hang out, he chose to stick by my side instead: helping me with archery, taking me canoeing, and helping me pull pranks on the cousins I particularly hated.

At 12, I thought Mason was the best person on the planet, the best brother, and certainly the best hunter. That was saying something considering our family’s hunting legacy went back nearly 300 years. The Dubois family could trace it roots to the fur traders settling in the New World who soon realized that this land contained more than just plenty of beaver to trap.

Legend has it, the Dubois men learned how to hunt a new type of beast, what they dubbed the loup-garou, the werewolf. Part man, part wolf, all beast. They learned how to hunt werewolves, and they passed down those skills from generation to generation all the way down to my brother and me.

I used to believe in it, this undying mission to hunt down werewolves. I used to believe that they were monsters, that they would only hurt us if they were given the chance. I believed it my whole life through childhood, high school, and up to college until I bumped into a cute boy at a coffee shop and fell in love only to find out he was what I was supposed to hunt that night.

I didn’t believe in it anymore. In fact, I had given it up. But Mason? Mason was a true believer until the end. He believed werewolves were monsters and that his perfect little sister had been seduced and defiled by one. It was now the party line of the family, but I knew it was more personal for Mason. I had been his responsibility, and he’d failed. Now, he desperately wanted to bring me back to the fold.

I heard a crunching sound, probably a boot stepping on a twig, and I immediately grabbed my crossbow, pointing it in front of me. My friends always teased me that I was too jumpy, that I needed to loosen up. Garrett never laughed. He knew that my wariness, like so much else, had been trained in me, and I couldn’t quite shake it.

My brother laughed, holding his hands up. “Why don’t you put that thing down before you hurt someone?”

I scowled. I kept my crossbow pointed at him, aimed directly at his heart. “Who says that’s not my goal?”

Mason just smirked at me. “C’mon, kiddo, if you were going to shoot me, you would have done it already. Put it down.”

Despite my instincts, I lowered my crossbow. God, I hated my brother, but I hated myself more for still trusting him enough to lower a weapon when he asked.

Mason raised an eyebrow. “And now let’s put it down…” His tone was the one he’d used a thousand times with me: gentle, coaxing, certain I would do what he said. And damn it, I did. “There we go. Geez, I never thought I’d see the day my sister aimed her crossbow at me.”

“And I never thought you’d be filling my boyfriend with arrows,” I replied. “But here we are.”

As soon as I mentioned Garrett, it was like a flip switched in Mason. His face hardened, and his entire body grew more tense. “Maybe you shouldn’t date what we hunt,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Maybe you should mind your own fucking business,” I shot back, matching his scowl with my own. Sometimes Mason forgot. I was a Dubois too, for better or worse. I could be just as stubborn as he was.

“He’s a werewolf, Elle,” Mason hissed. His tongue curled around the word werewolf like it was dirty.

“And you’re an asshole,” I replied. “Somehow, though, I still talk to you.” For all his faults (and boy, could I list them right now), Mason was my last connection to my family. When I had come home from college my sophomore year, confessing that I was in love with a werewolf and had no intention of stopping, my family disowned me. None of them talked to me: not my parents, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, my cousins… Only Mason kept in contact with me. I think he still believed he could “save” me.

Mason’s face softened slightly at the mention of my total isolation from the Dubois clan. “You could talk to everyone if you just came home.” It wasn’t the first time he’d offered me this choice. Every time I saw my brother, he asked me to come home like it was just that easy: give up Garrett, go home, and go back to hunting. But it wasn’t that easy. My heart was involved now.

“I can’t, Mason,” I replied, sitting up straighter, steel in my spin. I couldn’t go back from Garrett, not even if I tried. I had changed too much. “I love him,” I admitted more softly, hoping to appeal to some part of that big brother I had adored so much. I wanted him to understand.

Mason looked like I had punched him in the gut. Maybe he was finally understanding what all my family held to be true: I couldn’t be brought back into the fold. “And that’s what you want?”

“Yes,” I said, holding my head up high. “And I want you to leave us alone. Don’t call me. Don’t come after Garrett. Just leave me alone.”

Mason stared at me for a moment, studying my face. My brother could always tell when I was lying or scared. I knew he was searching for signs of either in my expression. He wouldn’t find them. I was more sure of this than I had ever been of anything.

“You’re going to regret this,” Mason said, trying to intimidate me with his glare.

“No,” I replied, meeting his glare with one of my own. “I won’t.”

My brother didn’t say anything else to me. Instead, he left without a glance back at me. Well, I thought, that was it. I had severed my last connection to my family. There really was no going back now. And despite everything, despite how much I loved Garrett and wanted a life with him, I sat on that log and cried.

I cried until it started to get dark, and I got a text from Garrett asking if my interview was done. I hadn’t told him I was meeting with my brother, instead telling him I was interviewing someone for my next story. I don’t know if he believed me. It’s notoriously hard to lie to a boyfriend who can hear your heartbeat.

I picked up my crossbow and started to make my way home. I wasn’t crying anymore. After all, I was a Dubois. What was done was done, and I didn’t regret it.

            Garrett was sitting on the porch when I got home, reading a book on our porch swing. He looked up and smiled at me. God, what I wouldn’t do for that smile.

I sat next to him, cuddling close. I liked snuggling with Garrett. I ran cold, and so his werewolf warm-bloodedness was always welcome.

“Hey, babe,” he said, kissing my forehead. “How was the interview?” He tried to keep his voice light, but I could tell he was worried.

“You know I didn’t go an interview,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I figured,” he admitted. “Your heartbeat was too fast. So where did you go?” I hesitated. “Elle?”

“I met my brother,” I said quietly, knowing Garrett would get mad. His instincts always went haywire when he thought I had put myself in danger.

Garrett growled. “And you didn’t tell me?” he shouted. “What if he had shot at you? What if he brought back up? You would have been fucked.”

“Mason wasn’t going to shoot at me,” I replied calmly, knowing exactly how to diffuse his short fuse by now. “And if you had come, he would have shot you.” Probably with bullets laced with aconite, I didn’t add.

Garrett was quiet for a moment. “What happened?”

I sighed, leaning my head on his shoulder. “I told him to leave us alone.” I couldn’t look at Garrett when I said it. He was a natural nurturer. He would try to comfort me, to make me feel better, and I didn’t want it. Really, I didn’t need it. “I’m not sure I’ll get any more calls from him.”

“Elle…” he said, trying to get me to look at him.

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to be,” he insisted.

“I know, but I am,” I replied. I was okay even if a small, persistent part of my heart hurt. I had no one in the universe now other than Garrett and our friends. It had been my reality for a few years now, but it hadn’t felt permanent yet. Now, it was final.

Neither of us spoke for a moment. I knew Garrett felt bad that I had to give up my family. He couldn’t imagine having to make the choice I made. After all, he was from a big, tight-knit clan of siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins who would have never given him such a choice. Yes, they were a little worried when Garrett first brought his hunter girlfriend home for dinner, but they embraced us as best as they could. I think I still scared them a little, but it didn’t bother me. Trust would come with time. I was just glad he still had them.

“I love you,” he said. I smiled. Five years later, I still never tired of hearing that.

“I love you too,” I said.

            I started to move, wanting to make something for dinner, but Garrett grabbed my hand. “Hey, Elle,” he said. “Marry me?” I froze. I stared at him, and he smiled. “You’re my best friend and my favorite person in the world, and I want to be with you forever. No matter what. Even if

your brother shoots me with arrows. So, marry me?”

            “Yes,” I said, the words hard to get out of my throat. “Yes, yes, yes!”

In that moment, I didn’t think about planning a wedding or that I’d have no family there. I didn’t think about Mason’s reaction or the likelihood that he’d perceive this as a declaration of war. In that moment, all I thought of was Garrett.

I kissed him with all the force I had. He leaned into the kiss before picking me up and carried me into the house. Obviously, dinner would have to wait.

I stared at myself in the mirror. I almost didn’t recognize the girl I saw there. Usually, my hair was thrown up in a ponytail, but today it was perfectly curled and swept to one side. My lips were painted a soft pink, and I had more makeup on my face than I had ever before in my life worn. I had decided against a veil or tiara. I wasn’t that type of girl.

Still, Garrett’s mother (or Ma as I was instructed to call her) insisted on me wearing her grandmother’s pearl drop earrings. “Something borrowed,” she told me when I protested. The dress itself was new: a simple, long-sleeved white dress. The sleeves were lace, but otherwise it was unadorned. I had wanted as simple a wedding as possible.

I fingered the gold cross I wore on my neck. It was as old as my family was. My grandmother had given it to me when I turned sixteen. It was my right to wear it, she told me, as the only Dubois girl. I wasn’t going to be a Dubois anymore, but I still couldn’t bear to take it off. It was the last piece of my family I planned on keeping with me.

Garrett’s older sister Gabrielle peeked into the room. She smiled at me. “Elle, are you ready?”

I smiled back. “Yes.”

Garrett’s family took the news of our engagement well. I think they must have seen it coming. After all, we’d been together five years. Still, I was surprised by how easily and readily they embraced me as one of their own. Garrett’s siblings treated me like they would Garrett: as an annoying but loveable younger sibling. Gabrielle particularly took me under her wing and made it her mission to make me feel comfortable.

Ma and Gabrielle immediately threw themselves into helping me plan a wedding. Really, I gave the reigns over to them. I didn’t care about anything other than marrying Garrett. The rest of it was just details.

When it was time to send out invitations, they asked me if I wanted any for my family. To their surprise, I only asked for one. They kept asking me if I was sure. I think they couldn’t understand how my family had effectively cut me out. That kind of cruelness wasn’t in their DNA. The Lunas radiated warmth and kindness that I had to learn to adapt to. I sent my one invitation to Mason. It was my last-ditch effort. If he didn’t respond, I was done.

I shook myself out of my thoughts, leaving the room. Gabrielle handed me my bouquet, beautiful wildflowers tied together with a blue ribbon. Gabrielle took her place amongst my bridesmaid. My wedding party was composed of my college friends, Gabrielle, and a few of Garrett’s cousins.

They all made their way down the aisle. I waited for my cue. Garrett’s dad (Pa, he insisted) and uncles each offered to walk me down the aisle, but I politely refused. I wanted to walk it myself, a sign of how far I had come. I had gotten this far by myself. It was only a few more steps until I’d have a partner for life.

Finally, it was time. I walked down the aisle, my eyes locked on Garrett. God, he cleaned up nice. I had never seen him in a suit before, and now it was exclusively what I wanted him to wear.

I like the way he looked at me like I was everything I wanted. I wanted to live in this moment forever. Of course, that was the moment an arrow flew through the air and landed in Garrett’s leg.

I didn’t need talk to react. I pulled out the gun I had strapped in a holster on my thigh and aimed. I knew from the trajectory of the arrow where Mason was hiding. Garrett’s family and our friends sat frozen in their chairs, fear written on their faces. I wasn’t afraid; I was pissed.

“You shot my fiancé on our wedding day!” I shouted at Mason, who walked towards me.

He shrugged. “He’ll live. It’s not laced with aconite or anything.”

I almost laughed, but I was still too angry. Why do men think that detail somehow makes it better? “What are you doing here, Mason?”

“You sent me an invitation,” he stated. Now that I could see him, I could tell he had stuck to our dress code: black tie optional. Except for the crossbow, of course.

“To attend my wedding,” I shot back. “Not to break it up!” All eyes were on us. I could see Garrett wanted to step forward, but I subtly shook my head at him. I could handle my brother.

“You’re making a mistake,” he insisted, lowering his cross bow and waving his hand around. “You’ll regret it.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore, Mason,” I stated, lowering my gun. I didn’t want to shoot my brother even now. If he hadn’t shot another arrow into Garrett, I’d be happy to see him. I missed him despite everything. “I can take care of myself. If it’s a mistake, it’s my mistake to make.”

Suddenly, Mason looked so old, much older than 30. “It’s my job to look out for you,” he said. And for years, it had been. Now, however, I didn’t need him to anymore. For the first time, I considered that maybe my brother felt more displaced than angry.

“And you did a good job,” I told him. “But I’m smart and strong, and I can take care of myself. You taught me that.” I paused for a moment, considering my words. “And I’m happy now. I’m really happy.”

Like he did the last time we met, he studied my expression for tells. I knew he wouldn’t find a lie there. Still, he looked at my face longer than I thought he would. I wonder what he saw there.

“You look pretty,” he said softly, smiling his real smile at me for the first time in years. I hadn’t seen that smile since I told him about Garrett.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling back at him.

“You really happy?” he asked, glancing over at Garrett. “He makes you happy?”

“Yes,” I replied. Mason nodded, and he looked around. We didn’t have family sections because none of my family was there.

“You have a seat saved for me?” I couldn’t help myself. I put my gun back in my holster and crushed my brother in a hug. He hugged me back gently, mindful of my dress. He kissed my forehead.

“It’s over there,” I pointed to a spot next to Garrett’s older brother Gavin. I hadn’t thought Mason would show up, but I had hoped anyway.

“Alright then,” he said, releasing me from the hug. He motioned towards Garrett. “Go marry your werewolf.”

“No more arrows?” I double-checked.

Mason tossed his crossbow. “No more arrows today. Maybe some arrows later if he’s a bad dog.”

I smacked my brother on the back of the head, but I was still smiling. I walked down the rest of the aisle, standing next to Garrett.

The minister cleared his throat. “We are gathered here today to-”

“One second,” I said. I turned to Garrett and pulled the arrow out of his thigh.

“Ow!” Garrett complained, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

“We’re not getting married with an arrow sticking out of your thigh,” I stated, trying to look mad. I failed miserably. I couldn’t contain my happiness.

“You would have married me anyway,” Garrett teased. The minister cleared his throat, and we turned our attention back to him.

Garrett was right. I would have married him anyway, arrow or no arrow, Mason present or not. But I was glad I was marrying him this way: with my brother present and no arrows in sight.