by Leah Rhoades
That didn’t seem to ease his mind, and it spoke volumes about how badly Everett Wesley hated me, how much he wanted me to disappear. I swallowed the bit of trepidation I felt, knowing that I could handle myself against the frail, sick old man as long as he didn’t turn into that thing in the woods.
The thing I would become.
“I’m going to stay in your room, working on my thesis. I don’t expect to have any run-ins.”
Luke nodded but still didn’t seem convinced. “Let me get your computer, and let me know if you need something before I go.” He scooted out the front door with a glance back, and I wondered how dangerous Everett was to raise his concern like this.
Setting it aside and trying to ignore the strange nagging in my brain, I settled on the couch to wait. He came back quickly, my messenger bag slung over his shoulder, and I felt an overwhelming wave of desire sweep through me. He looked so young and innocent like that, and it tugged at me, made me want to thread my arms around his neck and pull him into a deep, passionate kiss. The urge nearly overcame the intense hunger I couldn’t kill.
He gestured toward his room with a tilt of his head, and I bit my lip. Would it be wise to go in there right now, when I knew we weren’t alone and I had this need to feel him, skin to skin? But he started walking, expecting me to follow. What could I say? I stood and dogged him with jerky motions, so tense my muscles didn’t want to cooperate. I deliberately sat down in the office chair, avoiding even a glance at the bed.
“I’ll plug you in and get you on the wi-fi. Do you want something while I’m out?” he asked, sliding under the desk. “I thought it might be a good idea to go to your place and grab some of your things, if you trust me with your keys. You’re going to need clothes.”
My heart pounded in my chest, and I fought against the image in my head of grabbing him and yanking him to me. Did we really need clothes?
I shook my head against the thoughts, ashamed of their direction. He finished and crawled out, muscles pushing against the arms of his t-shirt and rolling across his back with such definition I could see it through the material.
Meat, I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg him to bring me huge slabs of meat, but it still felt revolting to ask for it, even if it didn’t seem to bother my other delicate sensibilities. Instead, I nodded and told him tersely, “That’s fine.”
He looked doubtful, but I ignored it and tapped out the password to the computer so he could log into the wi-fi. I shifted my position to avoid brushing against him, knowing it would ignite my skin and kill my self control. “Are you sure there’s nothing else?” he asked one more time, and I nodded, focusing on the screen. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, with the emphasis of a promise.
When he left, my shoulders dropped, and my back relaxed, having stiffened at his nearness. I knew I was attracted to Luke, had started to fall for him from the first meeting. But this incredible desire had risen out of nowhere. As long as Luke had been close to me, I couldn’t push it out of the forefront of my mind.
I checked my phone and cursed under my breath. I’d missed two calls and three texts from Cricket, and she was probably out of her mind with worry. I always got right back to her. I hesitated to respond, not sure what to say but knowing I had to come up with something. It obviously wasn’t safe to go home for a while, and I didn’t need Cricket finding her way out here, either. That was too dangerous.
But how could I explain a long term absence, both from our friendship and from school?
Finally, I came up with something just crazy and irresponsible enough to seem like a real possibility, something she would accept as an explanation without too many questions but that was just outrageous enough to make her giggle. I didn’t want her worrying.
So, I texted her and told her that I’d come up to see Luke at the cabin, and I’d told him about not wanting to fly to go interview some of my witnesses to strange creatures. I said he’d insisted we make a road trip out of it. She, of course, told me how jealous she was, that she wanted to be there but more than that, she wanted my ‘hunk of man flesh’.
I laughed, feeling lighthearted for a moment as I lived out the fantasy in my head. Going to talk to people who claimed to have met real life monsters, without ever having discovered the truth of their existence, sounded far preferable to my situation.
Eventually, I told her I had to go, that it was my turn to drive, and I winced. I didn’t like lying to my best friend, but as openminded as Cricket was, I didn’t think she would believe me if I told her I was about to start howling at the moon. So, I let it go and embraced the sense of relief at having at least given her some sort of update.
Now, I could concentrate better, and I pulled up all my digital references, as well as collecting my notebook from my bag. I played the recording of Sheila Mason’s the story of the Jersey Devil as I read through some of the werewolf legends, wondering if that could have just as easily been a werewolf that tore the kids apart. But the ritual positioning of bodies and the multiple arms didn’t fit the profile.
If werewolves existed, as I’d suspected for years without the courage to name the beast, could other claims of supernatural creatures and cryptid encounters hold water? Anyone else would have clung to their doubt, but over time, I’d seen too much to cast the possibility aside.
“We need to talk.”
I nearly jumped out of the chair at the sound of the gruff voice from the doorway.
Everett.
I turned to look at him, noting the somber expression on his face and how hard he leaned on his cane. I glanced down at his foot and couldn’t help but say, “I didn’t mean to cripple you.”
He scoffed. “It takes a lot more than a knife wound to cripple me. And if you mean you aimed to kill, you need more practice.”
I grunted. He didn’t seem so alarming as I took in his pale gray skin that sagged on his bones, his sickly appearance. “What is it you want to talk about?” I asked impatiently. I had things to do, had almost started the introduction to my thesis. I didn’t need interruptions and didn’t much care to speak to him. That newly developed anger crept up my spine and stopped unsettlingly in my neck.
But I’d promised not to rip out his throat or do anything else that would cut his life short. So, I fought to rein it in.
He hobbled over to the bed and sat on the edge, propping both hands on top of his cane and leveling a gaze at me that told me not to interrupt. “I hope you realize that all of this started with you. None of it would have ever happened if you weren’t here.”
I stared at him, open mouth and wide eyes. “You’re really going to blame me for this?”
“If the shoe fits,” he shrugged. “Since you were a kid, you’ve always been in the wrong place at the wrong time. My son wouldn’t have been out in the woods, convinced he needed to protect some child when he was just a child himself. And if you hadn’t come out here the other night, unannounced and unwelcome, I wouldn’t have this wound that just won’t heal. And you’d get to live out your precious little life, oblivious to what we are. Hell, I could have convinced Luke to let you go, but you had to go and get in the way.”
“You attacked me!” I sputtered, enraged. I didn’t know when I’d developed such a temper, but my body temperature increased, and my blood seemed to boil in my veins. “How could you spin any of this to be my fault?”
He pounded the floor twice with the cane, his eyes sparking with a rage similar to what I felt. “You weren’t welcome. And you were armed.”
“Only to protect myself.” I pointed at his foot. “I could have aimed anywhere. I didn’t even aim to kill the monster that haunted my nightmares for years. How was I a threat to you? I came out here to make sure you were safe! And right now, knowing what you are and what you’ve done, why should I care if you ever heal?” Righteous indignation flared in me. “My grandmother was all I had left in this world, and you took her from me.”
Standing and shaking his head, he said, “I thought I might b
e able to come in here and talk some sense into you. There are others. You could run along and find them. I’ll even point you in the right direction. Or you could take your own life and avoid this curse. I don’t care one way or the other. But I want you away from my son and his mad ramblings about soul mates.”
That brought me to silence, and I swallowed the tangent I almost launched. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t know anything about our kind, and you’ll die anyway. You might as well just get it over with.”
I flinched, sure he would lunge for me and morph into that monster. But he just stood there, and I ignored the threatening words, repeating, “What are you talking about, soul mates?” He still said nothing, and I pressed on. “Luke told me about it, but you make it sound like there’s something more to it than he mentioned.”
He rolled his eyes. “Werewolves have a legend about a connection with a soul mate, and for years, I thought my wife was mine. But we didn’t die together, and yet I can’t seem to live without her to my full potential. I don’t need my son to fall into this mumbo jumbo bullshit about soul mates, end up tying himself down to you, only to find out you’ll never have that bond. And you don’t need it, either,” he said, pointing at me. “He’ll just end up resenting you in the end.”
He started to hobble out of the room, and I had been so astounded I almost didn’t catch him. But as he reached the doorway, I managed a strangled, “Luke thinks I’m his soul mate. Fine. But what are you saying about your wife?”
Everett’s spine straightened, but he didn’t turn to look at me when he spoke. “Imagine an eight year old boy who actually listens to the mad ramblings of his old man, convinced soul mates are real. Then, he runs across this seven year old girl in cute little pigtails and decides she must be his soul mate. His obsession has managed to kill everyone so far. Maybe I’m ready to go, or maybe I’m just tired of fighting with him. But for the better part of the last decade and a half, he’s chased the idea of his soul mate, even though I’ve told him over and over that they don’t exist. But he’s determined to fit you into that mold.”
And then he rounded the corner, leaving me there alone to ponder and revel at this new information. Soul mates. The antiquated thought still held value in a number of religions and cultures throughout the world, but I had to admit to feeling surprised that Everett would not only have bought into such a legendary tale but also that he’d eventually rejected it and now used it to try to push me away from Luke.
My fury swelled, and it took all of my willpower not to trash the room just to release the aggression. Eventually, I slowed my breathing slightly, only to notice that my hunger hadn’t dissolved but had actually worsened, gnawing at my gut and making my mouth water as I pictured a big, rare steak on a plate in front of me where the laptop sat.
I had to figure out how to satisfy this hunger, and I needed to learn to meditate or something to keep the rage at bay. I couldn’t even stay safely with Luke and Everett if it rose to the surface with such strength, force, and swiftness.
I’d end up doing something I regretted, and either it would get me killed, or I’d take Everett to his grave. Either outcome was unacceptable because it would hurt Luke. And that was the last thing I wanted to do. He was my ally, and he cared about me, filled the empty vessel losing my family had left behind. I needed the safety net and the connection, whether I liked it or not.
Chapter 17
Luke didn’t want to admit his relief at finding both his father and Crystal alive and in one piece when he returned. Getting to her apartment had taken longer than he’d predicted, and he’d been on edge the whole way home.
He’d gone mostly for beef, knowing that Crystal would need it to strengthen herself against the change. Every shift had brutal effects on a weak body, but the first one could end fatally, especially with the infection having weakened Crystal so much.
Despite her aversion to meat, she would have to consume quite a bit, and that would never change.
He shoved the bulk of it into the deep freeze he’d put behind the cabin, carrying in just enough to fill the freezer and one shelf in the refrigerator. It was a lot, but he knew that, between the three of them, they would finish it off before the full moon. And still go hunting that night.
What he hadn’t expected was to find Crystal, looking anxious and confrontational as she sat at the desk, staring at the door rather than her laptop. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
She didn’t answer for the space of several heartbeats, and Luke didn’t know how to take that. But finally, she began, in a deadly calm voice, “You told me you had a childhood obsession with me, that you wanted to protect me. And you told me you purposely came to rent this cabin from me. But you seem to have left out a few facts.”
What the hell had transpired while he was out? Had his father talked to her about something, fed her some crazy lies to turn her against him? “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he said, as calmly and carefully as he could. “But please, if I’ve not been completely honest, tell me what I’ve omitted.”
She pressed her lips into a fine line, and he could smell her rage, even brighter than the scent of blood on her shoulder. “You failed to tell me whatever this crazy shit is about soul mates. And before you argue that you told me you believe we’re soul mates, I know there’s more to it than that.”
A string of curses ran through Luke’s head. So, dear old Dad had taken it upon himself to mention something that would sound outrageous and make Crystal look at him just the way she did now, like he had stalked her because he was insane. With a heavy sigh, he sat on the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands. “It’s not crazy, no matter how it sounds,” he told her, suddenly exhausted.
“Oh, really? Please, enlighten me then, Luke. Because every time I start to accept that maybe you and your father aren’t complete psychopaths, something else pops up that makes me want to have you both institutionalized.”
He shook his head and made eye contact, silently pleading with her to understand. “It’s a werewolf thing, Crystal, and don’t cut me off.” He held up a hand to stop the words she had already formed in her mouth. “Let me explain.”
She scoffed. “You keep saying that. And I keep giving in. But like I said, tell me more about this werewolf thing because, obviously, I’m going to need to know everything you can share with me.” She shook her head, muttering under her breath, “Next thing you know, he’s going to talk about imprinting, and I’ll be living in Twilight.”
He heard the sarcasm in her tone but ignored it. “My father knew my mother was his perfect match because they were soul mates. It’s an instinctual feeling we get when we first meet the one we’re meant to be with, and it doesn’t matter if it’s another werewolf or a human. Or something else entirely, for that matter.” He didn’t think he was making sense, and he tried again. “It’s this overwhelming sensation, like someone is calling out to you. And you’re drawn to that voice, that sensation, like a magnet. Or like there’s a string around your heart, tugging at you, and you can’t ignore it.”
Crystal’s face paled slightly, but she still clipped her words when she spoke. “And what about the other person? Do they feel it or hear it or whatever?”
“My mother and father both said they heard and felt it. But they were both werewolves, so I don’t know as much about how it works when someone isn’t born one of us.” He wished he had something to work with here, a story of a human and a wolf, but he’d never had enough exposure to others of his kind. His father saw to that. “But when those two people come together, there’s a permanent bond. And when my mother was killed, that bond was severed with my father. It’s part of the reason he’s so sick. He lost his soul mate.”
“He said it’s a stupid myth,” she told him, narrowing her eyes. “He doesn’t believe in it.”
“He’s convinced himself of that because he didn’t die when she did. That’s how it�
�s supposed to happen, so neither has to live without the other. But he’s been sick ever since. We’ve been searching for a way to prolong his life, and we thought the wild here, where he was home, would help him get better. But it’s not working.” The man had truly manipulated his own mind into believing soul mates didn’t exist, and no one knew the truth of the matter better than Luke.
And now, he realized, he had hard evidence. Feeling more enthusiastic now, he took a deep breath. “When I first saw you, I heard that call, Crystal. Something called my name, and it drew me in. I couldn’t ignore you, couldn’t keep from looking for you, and when I thought you were in danger, I had to answer that call.” She’d said something before that made him believe, with all his heart, that this would open her mind to the truth.
She looked away from him, her mind obviously far away, and he wondered what exactly he’d triggered. Was it a memory of her childhood? Of watching her grandmother torn apart after losing her parents so recently? He could understand her hatred for the beasts she assumed he and his father were, since they had taken the last of her family away. But he wanted to ease her pain, not make it worse by uncovering buried memories.
And he wanted her to come to the same conclusion as he had without forcing it on her.
“The forest. The voice. Was it the forest?” she muttered to herself, barely audible.
Trying not to seem too eager, Luke asked, “Was what the forest?” She’d mentioned this in her ramblings last night in her fever. Those words held water, and he thought maybe he should give her a gentle nudge in the right direction. “Crystal, last night, you said something about the trees calling you.”
Pursing her lips as her brow drew into a deep line, she told him, “From the time I moved here, with my grandmother, I could hear the trees, hear the woods talking to me. They would call my name, tell me to come in, tell me I would be safe there. It never creeped me out, never scared me, until after my grandmother died. After that, I couldn’t bear the thought of being anywhere near this place, which is why it took me so long to do anything with it.”