“I’ve been monitoring LexusNexus and I’m seeing some news stories about animals being killed in northern California. There have been two people killed, too. Authorities attribute the deaths to animals. They’re saying probably pit bulls, maybe mountain lions, but a couple of stories have quoted locals talking about howling wolves. I think there’s a good chance we’d find Fenris holed up there somewhere.”
“Have there been any wolf sightings?”
“The stories don’t mention any. Authorities dismiss the reports of howling, saying it’s likely just dogs.”
“Can you find out more?” Ulrik asked. “Without putting yourself in danger? If Fenris is there, he will be surrounded by allies now. It would not do for you to be found investigating there.”
“I think so. I’ll make some calls to the reporters who filed these stories, see what they know.”
“Good. Very good, Ben. Thank you,” Ulrik said. “Call me back when you have more information.”
Ulrik hung up the phone, then picked it up again, ready to call Laura Koehler’s cellular phone to ask about Kiona’s doings. He was interrupted by the sound of someone vomiting in the bathroom between his room and Joey’s.
Shara
A thick string of saliva hung from her chin. Shara wiped it away with the back of her hand. She looked at the glistening slobber for a moment, then pulled off some toilet paper and wiped it from her hand and dropped it into the bowl with the bits of her dinner already floating there. She flushed, watching the discolored water and food particles swirl round and round before being sucked out of sight.
“Shit,” she muttered. “Not again.”
“Shara?”
She looked up to the closed door. It was Ulrik calling her. She’d come into Joey’s room to check on her son, but he’d already left. The urge to vomit came suddenly and she ran into the bathroom, forgetting that it was between Joey’s room and Ulrik’s.
“Shara? Are you all right?” he called.
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m fine.”
“Are you ill?”
“No. Not really.”
“Are you … ?”
“I don’t know,” she lied. She’d had morning sickness for three days.
“May I come in?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Very well.”
Shara listened to Ulrik’s footsteps moving away from the other side of the door. Bracing herself on the toilet and sink, she pulled herself to her feet and studied her face in the mirror. She was pale, with dark circles under her moist eyes. She wiped at her eyes and pinched her cheeks, wishing the sickness had come in her own bathroom so she could apply some makeup before facing Ulrik. She rinsed out her mouth, took a deep breath and went through Joey’s room and through the door.
“Is there anything I can do for you, my cub?”
There was nervousness in Ulrik’s eyes, but a small smile played at his lips, making his gray beard twitch just a little. His hands fidgeted, as if he wanted to reach out to her. Shara thought for a moment about how he had not been around during her previous two pregnancies and how he might have helped her understand her unique situation if he had been there.
“I’m hungry,” she said, reaching for his hands and holding them tightly. “I want bacon. With biscuits and gravy. You have no idea how much I missed bacon when I wasn’t eating meat for all those years. Now I can’t get enough of it.”
His face burst into the smile he’d been repressing and he nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Then you shall have it, my cub. You shall have it.” He paused and the smile faded just a little. “Are you happy?”
Shara stepped forward and hugged him quickly but tightly. “I think so,” she said. “Yes.” She stepped back, then nodded. “Let’s go eat. I’ll help you make breakfast.”
Shara warmed the oven and opened a sleeve of canned biscuits. As she lay them out on a baking sheet, Ulrik began frying a slab of bacon.
“Have you seen Joey this morning?” she asked.
“No. He probably is outside, playing.”
“What about … what about Thomas?”
“No. I heard him singing to you last night, however.”
“Yes.” Shara paused, smiling, staring vacantly at the white doughy biscuit in her hand.
“He will be happy,” Ulrik said.
“Probably. Yeah, I think so,” Shara agreed.
“You are sure about your condition?” Ulrik asked. “Do you need a test to confirm our suspicions?”
“I should get one,” Shara said. “Just … I don’t know. Just because. But I’m sure. I’m very sure I’m going to have Thomas’s baby. Except for that first time, you know, right after I was sick, we used protection, but I guess I’m just – ”
The words died in her mouth as she looked from Ulrik’s face to the doorway he was staring at. Joey stood there, a dirt-encrusted yellow Tonka truck hanging at his side. His face gave away his confusion. Shara hurried around the table and caught him before he could run away. She hugged him close.
“You’re going to have a baby?” he asked.
“Yes, Joey,” Shara said, her face pressed close to his shoulder and neck. “I think so.”
“And … and Dad won’t be the daddy?”
Shara squeezed him tighter, and that seemed to be all the answer he needed. He began struggling to get free. Shara clung to him. “Joey, no. Please don’t.”
“Let me go!” He dropped his truck and pushed at her with both hands. “Let me go! I hate you!”
As if of their own accord, Shara’s arms dropped to the floor. She looked blankly at her own knees where she knelt in the doorway as Joey’s sneakered feet ran for the front door.
“I hate you!” he screamed again before the door slammed behind him.
“I am the worst mother in the world,” Shara muttered.
“Nonsense.” Ulrik’s big, rough hands were on her shoulders, pulling her to her feet. Shara let him lift her, then turned and buried her face against his broad chest, sobbing so hard her body shook. His arms encircled her and held her in a strong but gentle embrace.
“What have I done?” she asked. “Chris hasn’t been gone any time at all. What have I done?”
“You have done nothing wrong, my cub. You needed companionship and you reached out to one who was longing to give it to you. Thomas loves you very much.”
“But Joey doesn’t like him. Now Joey will hate him. That’s … I can’t have that.”
“Shhhh. Joey will just need some time to adjust,” Ulrik said. “He has had many changes thrown at him very quickly. He is a bright boy, a good child, and he will be fine. He is much like his mother.”
Shara couldn’t stifle the smallest of laughs, knowing that Joey did share her stubbornness. She hugged her old mentor harder, then released him, but kept hold of his arms. “Thank you, Ulrik,” she said. “Nothing’s gone the way I thought it would. From prom night to the night you gave me your Gift to right here and now, but you’re always there to bail me out of the worst of it.”
“It is my pleasure,” he said. “But, unless you want your bacon burned, you must let me go back to my cooking now.”
Shara let him go. She went to her biscuits and put them in the oven. “Do you think Joey will be okay out there?”
“Yes. He will be fine.”
“You don’t think he’d try to get through the woods,” she asked. “You know … run away from us?”
“No, I do not think so. He is never as alone as he believes when he is out of the house. There are those assigned to watch over him.”
Shara sighed. “Ordinarily, I suppose I’d be mad about that. But under the circumstances, I guess I should thank you.”
“Joey’s welfare is very important. Not only to the Pack, but to me, personally. I am very fond of the boy,” Ulrik said.
“What about …” Shara put a hand to her stomach. “What about this one? What will his – or her – role be?”
“
I do not know,” Ulrik answered. “Time will tell.”
Shara nodded, not happy with his response. She wandered to a kitchen window and found Thomas sitting on the back porch, still in his wolf form. She wondered how much he had heard.
“Thomas is on the porch,” she said.
“I know.”
“How long has he been there?”
“Only a few minutes,” Ulrik said.
“I should go talk to him. I wish he was able to talk to me right now.”
“I think he will be quite able to communicate his feelings about your news,” Ulrik said, smiling at her as he moved bacon in the skillet.
“You’re probably right,” Shara agreed as she started for the back door. “The bad thing about you is that you’re usually right.”
Shara
Joey had not returned to the house by lunchtime. Shara was worried and fidgeted with her food. Thomas sensed her apprehension and paced the kitchen floor. Ulrik watched them both, thinking. He wasn’t worried about Joey being in physical danger, but he was worried about the boy being alone with his harsh feelings.
“Well, since you two are not going to be good company, I will go and find one who is,” Ulrik said, rising from the table.
“What?” Shara asked, looking up from her plate and blinking at him.
Ulrik smiled down at her. “I will go out and find Joey,” he said. “First, however, I will pack a lunch for us. He may be hungry.”
Shara’s smile was a warm welcome to her wan face. “Thank you,” she said.
“Even if the boy complains, at least he will be talking to me,” Ulrik said. He put strips of beef jerky, crackers and two apples into a leather pouch that he slung over his shoulder. “We will be back soon.”
Outside, Ulrik raised his face to the afternoon sky and howled. A moment later his call was answered by a wolf to the northwest. Ulrik set off at a quick trot, pausing to howl at intervals and listen for a response. The answering wolf didn’t move, indicating that Joey was not roaming the woods, but was most likely pouting somewhere in the shade.
An hour later, Ulrik was hunkered in the brush with Cheryl Monroe. The woman shifted quickly from her wolf form to human and crouched, naked, beside Ulrik. They watched Joey as he slept, curled in a fetal position at the base of a tree.
“How long has he been here?” Ulrik whispered.
“A couple of hours,” Cheryl answered, running her fingers through her tangled blonde hair. “He’s been asleep most of the time. I followed him as soon as he entered the woods. He wandered around for a while, throwing sticks and kicking stuff, then threw himself down and fell asleep. Is something wrong at the house?”
“Perhaps,” Ulrik answered, unsure how much he wanted to divulge, even to those loyal enough to be guarding Joey. “He had an argument with his mother.”
“That explains the bratty attitude, then,” Cheryl said. “How are things otherwise? What’s the plan?”
“The same as always. The boy must be trained,” Ulrik said. “When he is ready to be the Alpha, he will assume that role himself. We cannot push him. We can only prepare him.”
“What about Kiona? And Fenris? Any news of them?”
“Nothing definite. Kiona is being watched. She has made contact with one who is loyal to Fenris. We must be watchful,” Ulrik said. “She is in her cycle now.”
“Will she betray us?” Her voice told Ulrik that Cheryl believed Kiona would betray them. The Indian woman had paid Cheryl a visit once to punish her for alerting Ulrik of a child Kiona had taken. Cheryl had been ready, though, and rumor had it Kiona had gotten the worst of the meeting. Ulrik had never asked either of them about it, preferring to pretend he had heard nothing.
“I cannot make myself believe that Kiona will betray us,” Ulrik said. “But we must be vigilant.”
“Most of us never liked her.”
“I know,” Ulrik said. “I will stay with Joey now. Please return to the house and tell Shara that her son is well.”
“All right. I’m going to cook myself an actual meal while I’m there. I’m hungry for something spicy.”
Ulrik smiled and nodded. “Very well. You will find plenty of food.”
Cheryl slipped back into her wolf form and padded quietly away. Ulrik watched her go, remembering the first time he’d met her. She’d been new to the Gift and immigrated to America after being accused of witchcraft by her neighbors in northern Italy. She had sought him out soon after arriving in America and he’d offered her advice and a nest egg just before he left for Siberia. She now lived on the interest of her investments while running an occult bookshop in Pennsylvania.
Ulrik returned his attention to Joey. Sighing, he stood up and crossed the twenty-five yards to where the boy slept. He sat down heavily, purposefully waking Joey. “You are a hard one to find,” he lied when the boy cast a harsh look at him.
“What do you want?” Joey asked.
“To talk with you while I eat my lunch,” Ulrik said. He took food from his pouch and handed a strip of jerky to the boy. Joey ate hungrily. Ulrik laid out the rest of the food on a napkin he’d brought and took a cracker for himself. “Why did you run away this morning?”
“Mom doesn’t care about me anymore. She only cares about him.”
“Thomas, you mean.”
“Yes.”
“That is not true, Joey. Your mother is very worried about you this very minute.”
“No she’s not.” His brow furrowed and he pressed his lips together in a frown.
“She is.” Ulrik breathed on the red surface of his apple, shined it on his shirt, then bit into the fruit with a wet crunch. “She loves you very much.”
“Where do babies come from? How is she having a baby with him? Is it from kissing? Jenny Brown said it was.”
“That is not exactly right,” Ulrik said, grinning. “There is more to it, but it often begins with kisses.”
“But Mom shouldn’t kiss anyone but Dad,” Joey argued.
“Some matters are best left for adults to decide,” Ulrik said, knowing it was no answer to the boy’s pain.
“But Dad’s dead,” Joey added as if he hadn’t heard Ulrik.
Ulrik wasn’t sure how to respond. He did not dare tell the boy he knew his father still lived, not without telling Shara first, and that would now be more difficult than before.
“I thought, since Dad is … dead … that now Mom would need me more. I would take care of her,” Joey said. “But she’s got him.”
“Life often does not go as we believe it should, Joey. It is unfortunate that your father is gone. I promise that your mother does need you. But she has found another man, too. Thomas will never replace your father, but he is a good man, I think. If you give him a chance, I feel sure you will come to like him.”
“I don’t want to like him. He’s always around Mom. I want him to go away. Why couldn’t he go away and Aunt Kiona stay?”
“As I said, life often does not flow along the course we expect,” Ulrik said. “Can you not be happy that your mother is happy?”
“She shouldn’t be happy,” Joey argued. “Dad is dead. How can she be happy? Somebody killed him.”
“Tell me about your father,” Ulrik urged. “Tell me your best memories of him.”
“He’d take me fishing,” Joey said, then paused. “We had a pond where we lived in Montana. Just a little one. We’d go fishing and drink root beer and eat peanut butter sandwiches. Sometimes he’d draw pictures of me. Silly pictures, where I’d be doing things like driving a little car or making funny faces.”
Ulrik watched the child’s face crumple. The tears and sobs came quickly. He reached for Joey and the boy came willingly.
“I miss him,” Joey said, his body shaking with the power of his emotion. “I want my dad. He wouldn’t kiss another woman if Mom died.”
Ulrik didn’t try to reason or argue with him. He simply held Joey and let the boy cry until the tears were exhausted. Still, Joey clung to him, keeping his face bu
ried in Ulrik’s denim shirt, the fabric dark and wet from his weeping. They sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts.
He could have been mine. Ulrik smiled sadly, remembering.
* * *
Shara had spent two years roaming the western United States as a wolf, killing everything that crossed her path, forgetting her human nature, forgetting that she was a woman, losing her ability to regain her human form. Ulrik trapped her and cared for her in the pit where he held her, singing the song of old magic to her.
Seeing her had torn at his heart. For days he wondered if he would be able to rescue the shy young woman he had once known. The wolf raged in the pit, a thing of hate and fangs and snarls. He tranquilized her at times, using a rifle to shoot the darts, so he could go into the pit and tend to her. He remembered hoping he would not have to use the other rifle and the silver bullets he had brought.
Then, finally, Shara regained her humanity. Ulrik found her in the pit one morning, frail and weak, but a woman once more. She had seemed incredibly light when he put her over his shoulder and climbed out of the hole with her.
When she was recovered, Ulrik found her in the tent they shared, examining the changes that had come over her from her prolonged time as a wolf.
“Rest,” he urged. “You will stay here and rest until you are well. That may be tomorrow, or it may be months. After that, you must decide.”
He explained how Tony Weismann and he had taken care of matters surrounding the death of Shara’s late husband, Bryan McWatters. “Your money is safe, and I can give you more if you feel you need it. You will need to change your name again. I would suggest you – ”
“No.” Shara shook her head emphatically. “No more of that. It was the lying and sneaking around that caused so many problems between me and Bryan. No more false names. No more lies.”
“We will discuss it later, my cub,” Ulrik said, knowing that she would come to accept that alternate identities were a necessity. “You should sleep again.”
Shara began to protest, but was interrupted by a huge yawn. Ulrik smiled and watched her nestle into her sleeping bag. Within a few minutes she was breathing deeply. Ulrik left the tent, dampened the fire, and returned to his own sleeping bag.
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