Lone Wolf Rising

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Lone Wolf Rising Page 10

by Jami Brumfield


  "And I’ll start that training when I actually have a pack." Rebecca reminded the wolf.

  She shivered as she reached for the door handle. It was that distinct feeling that someone was watching her, again. Someone that posed enough of a threat that the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood up in warning. She turned on her heel and used her supernatural wolf sight to scope out the area from all directions. Nothing looked out of place in their quiet suburb. It was late and all the houses were dark with the exception of foot lighting and a few scattered street lamps. The rest of the night was lit by the silver moon, but none of that mattered because night vision was one of the perks of being a wolf.

  The wind picked up and blew through her blonde waves. It only served to intensify her nervousness and make her more alert. But as she looked around she saw nothing. Just as she was about to turn to go inside, a movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Something, no someone was on the neighbor’s roof. One minute that person was there and the next he was gone. She began to walk down the sidewalk towards the stranger’s location but was stopped by a familiar voice.

  “Rebecca, is everything okay?” It was her brother, Hunter. She’d forgotten he was outside talking to the neighbor. He must have seen her walk past him. Natalia was gone and he was standing there with a concerned look on his face. When she didn’t answer him, he continued, “sis?”

  Her instinct told her to follow the person who was watching them on the roof but her heart told her to get Hunter inside to safety. He wasn’t a part of this world and he would not be able to protect himself. She was learning very quickly, and she was having difficulty protecting herself, let alone looking after him. Surely, whoever was following her tonight would be following her tomorrow.

  “Sure,” She plastered on a fake smile. “What are you still doing outside? Come on we have an early day tomorrow.” And with that, they went inside.

  Chapter Nine

  ~"Excellence is an art won by training and habituation. We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but we rather have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.”

  ~Aristotle

  Rebecca

  The house was suspiciously quiet before Lucky arrived to run with her the following morning. It was normal for Savvy and Hunter to sleep through the morning, but grandmother was often up before Rebecca. Today, however, Grandma Catherine was still behind her bedroom door, and Becca had a strange feeling that was primarily because of her.

  She could hear a motorcycle as it barreled down the block. She could smell his vanilla, cinnamon, and clove scent mingled with smog and gas when he pulled up outside her house. The strange combination of scents resulted in sweetness. She did all of this from her kitchen as she sipped the remaining drops of coffee from her mug. The more she used her enhanced senses the stronger they got.

  But the sight of Lucky was far better than the scents and sounds. He looked deliciously handsome in the early morning sun. It was a rare person who could go from being sexy in jeans and leather jacket to irresistible in yoga pants and a t-shirt, but Lucky was one of those rare people. His golden blonde wavy hair and sun kissed skin was accented by the brown hues of his outfit. His physique was truly impressive but when she found herself caught up in his smile and the light in his eyes she felt weak in the knees. His eyes were lighter than normal in daylight; gone were the amber hues, now they looked like liquid gold.

  "Are you ready to run?" Rebecca grinned as she bolted out the door past him and started up the street. It was a passive aggressive way of breaking the sexual tension that seemed to blossom between them when they locked eyes.

  Her enjoyment and laughter were short-lived as he quickly caught up to her and eased into a comfortable stride next to her. "So how was your night?" He asked cordially, not that they didn’t just see each other a few hours ago, but it was a good way to break the ice.

  Rebecca glared at him as she continued her brisk pace down the block. Instead of answering his question she offered, "I have been running all my life, physically and metaphorically. How is it that you make it look so easy?"

  As she waited for his answer she took a moment to enjoy the sound of the ground being crushed beneath her feet, and the smell of breakfast meats surfacing from the houses on the block. The Foster's were having ham. The Lancaster's were eating bacon. The Jacobs' smelled of breakfast steak and the Corrales' had the scent of meat and green chilies. The smells were intoxicating and gave her the smallest peek into their households.

  "I, too, have been running all my life, only I’ve been running toward things, not away from them." He gave her a knowing look.

  "Yeah? Like what?" Rebecca turned the corner and eased them onto the subdivision’s park path which was generally full of early morning bicyclers, not runners. This morning the path and park were eerily empty.

  He followed. "Battles." He watched her as he gauged her response. If he was looking for a reaction he got nothing. She simply kept running and smiling. "I’m a warrior, Rebecca. Its how I was raised and all I know. It seems like I’ve been running towards that destiny since I was a young boy."

  "And how long have you been running?" She examined him. The surprise he held in his eyes for only a moment faded quickly. He must have expected a different reaction when he told her about his love affair with battles. The poor guy probably had some difficult relationships in the past when this topic came up.

  "Is that your coy way of asking my age?" He grinned as he looked down at her. Being at least five inches taller than her made looking down natural and easy. It was disconcerting since she was considered above average in female height. When her only answer was a shy grin he went on, "I’m the same age as you and I’ve been fighting since I was ten."

  That got Rebecca to stop, "Ten?"

  He went a few feet ahead of her until he noticed she had stopped. The short time he took to circle back allowed her a few moments to catch her breath.

  Sadness crossed his face. "Our world is different, Becca. Most witches are taught spells the moment they can talk and they’re practicing magic in the crib. Werewolves are taught to hunt immediately after the change starts. Vampires are expected to take blood from a human the moment they are reborn or they will die. We live in a world of predators. Ten was actually late for my kind. I was supposed to be training the moment I could lift a weapon.” He glanced around, and Rebecca found herself wondering if he noticed the emptiness of the park, too. “Nephilim are taught to use anything and everything around them as a weapon."

  "What would you use here?" She asked, curious about his world and wanting to hear about his past experiences.

  "You mean aside from the ankle knife on my left leg or the gun holstered in the small of my back? Maybe I would choose to use the brass knuckles on my keychain or perhaps the whip wrapped around my leg?" He lifted his pant leg to show her. There was a braided cord wrapped around his leg starting from his ankle to his knee.

  "That has to be uncomfortable." The words escaped her mouth before she could reign them back in. Her eyes lingered a little longer than necessary on the muscular shape of his leg. She shook her head to clear it and managed a weak smile. "I meant what would you use here if you were not armed from head to toe?" She had to admit the ridiculousness of the situation. A month ago the most dangerous weapon she and her friends would have thought of would be the knives in the wooden block in the kitchen. Now she was being exposed to whips, guns, and brass knuckles. It truly was a different world she was living in now.

  "Ah, well there are heavy duty tree branches on that oak." He moved closer as he pointed to their left. "The chains on the swings over there would be great weapons, connected or not."

  A picture of Lucky strangling her stalker with swing chains entered her mind and she chased it away as quickly as possible. Death was, it seemed, always around her. Now she was simply learning more ways to cause it.

  "If you are r
eally desperate, the sand in the playground would make for a good distraction." He went on.

  "Okay, I get the point." A laugh bubbled up from her midsection and she enjoyed the way it felt escaping her lips. "You’re a black belt in everything."

  He shrugged. It was a modest reaction and one that endeared him even more to her.

  "Are you going to teach me how to do that, too?” It would be a good skill to recognize unconventional weapons in her environment.

  "First hand to hand, then weapons. Right now, we are working on endurance.” He smiled as he started jogging in place. “The best way to win a fight is to never begin it in the first place."

  "You mean run away? Wolves don’t run from a fight." She crossed her arms over her chest to reinforce the statement and to contain the wolf who was vehemently opposed to the idea of flight.

  "If you’re outmatched, out-numbered, out-skilled, you’ll run and live to fight another day." He stopped jogging and pulled her close to him. He gently forced her eyes to lock with his. "You need to understand there are plenty of predators in our world who are far more dangerous than you’ll ever be, even with the alpha spark. Those are the ones you need to fear and, in a way, respect."

  She raised her chin higher to defy his words and unlock their eyes, effectively extinguishing the spark between them, at least for the moment. It did little to reduce the tingles where their skin touched, but it was a start. She knew her next spoken words were more her wolf’s than hers, but she couldn’t stop them from leaving her lips. "I’ll not run."

  "You will when the danger is too great and I’ll teach you to spot this. Even the bravest warrior knows when to fight another day." His logic was sound, while frustrating.

  A cool breeze circled around them which was odd because the day had shown no signs of relief from the heat and there were no clouds in the sky. However, the breeze matched Rebecca’s irritation. She shivered, not from the breeze, but from his closeness, and from the way he continued to stare intently at her; and also from the way his body fit perfectly against hers despite the obvious difference in size. His eyes darkened; the gold and amber almost completely gone as he stared at her pursed lips. Stubborn lips that betrayed her seemed to be begging for a kiss, a kiss she was not going to get. He stepped back and ran a hand through his golden waves.

  The silence and space between them stretched outward awkwardly. "We really should be continuing on with the endurance training" he said as he started running forward, leaving her to stare after him. She couldn’t help but notice the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach at his departure. It only took a few minutes to get her feet moving and brain refocused on the run. In those few moments he was almost out of sight. They ran farther than she’d ever run before in her life. And that was before breakfast.

  They finished the run back at her house. He tossed her the helmet and patted the back of the bike as an invitation for her to sit.

  ‘You should drive yourself.’ Her wolf warned softly in her mind. Rebecca was thinking that same thought but decided to go against the wolf and hopped on the back of his bike. ‘One day you’ll learn to listen to me. Hopefully it won’t be too late.’

  ‘That day will happen when you talk to me as an equal, not as a child.’ Rebecca answered her stubbornly.

  ‘You are a child.’ The wolf stated the obvious.

  Rebecca rolled her eyes and hugged herself close to Lucky as he sped down the street. He lived in Scottsdale which was only a few suburbs away. It was also the town she had lived in with her parents. Driving through the streets brought back childhood memories she thought were lost a long time ago, happy memories. She pushed them down. She didn’t need the distraction.

  Thankfully, he made the turn into his subdivision rather quickly after they crossed the city line. He scanned a card at the wrought iron gate which opened with great speed. A few turns later she was standing outside his family home. It looked more like an estate. An elegant fountain of angels graced the front yard which was perfectly landscaped. The house was at least three times the size of her own.

  The inside was just as spectacular. The floors were marble, the walls looked like stone, and the décor was ancient. Rebecca was afraid to touch anything. It was like stepping into a museum. “Nice house.”

  Lucky shrugged, “it’s been in the family for generations. But it serves its purpose. Hungry?”

  “Yes! Famished.” She followed him into the kitchen, which looked more like stainless steel restaurant kitchen. “How many people live here?”

  “Right now?” He started pulling things out of the fridge. “Just my mother and I. I have an older brother and sister but they’re away at college right now.”

  Rebecca raised her eyebrows and started helping him make the green tea. “It’s an awfully large house.”

  “Agreed, but there is no way my mother will sell it. It has too much family history, not to mention it really suits our needs.” He grinned when the toast popped up and placed them on a plate.

  Breakfast was not a large meal; toast and tea without her usual honey fix. She argued the importance of honey to Lucky and how it helped control allergies, but he was not hearing or allowing her to make excuses. She was on his time and she was expected to follow his strict diet.

  She was only allowed to pout for a few minutes before he picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her down to the basement of his house. The action knocked the breath out of Rebecca and then made her irritable, which did not help her mood.

  Her wolf was literally snarling in her mind.

  She insisted he put her down and he tossed her unceremoniously onto the blue sparring mat that took up a good portion of the room.

  When she stopped seeing red she focused on her new surroundings. Daddy had always said to ‘be aware of what is around you’ and this seemed like a good time to do just that. The basement was the largest she had ever seen. Half of it was covered in the mat that upon closer inspection revealed drops of dried blood, most likely from other training sessions. She wondered how much of that blood was Lucky's and how much would be hers before they were done.

  Her eyes were drawn to the walls; all four of them were covered with weapons from various periods of times in history. Guns, cross bows, and throwing stars were on one wall. Swords, long bamboo sticks, and daggers filled another wall with shields and what looked like a family crest. It was red and gold checkered. The black shaded design in the center showed a man holding a sword drawn, ready to attack, and a trumpet in the other hand. She loved history and had seen enough family crests to recognize that this was one of them. One day she’d have to ask him about his own family heritage.

  In between the sword wall and the random weapons wall she caught sight of a punching bag and two practice dummies; one made of wood pegs and the other had the shape of a stuffed human. The third wall was made up of weights and exercise equipment.

  "Heads up!" Lucky tossed a long bamboo stick in her direction which she easily caught. He flashed a smile which said he was impressed and then took a fighting stance on the blood stained mat across from her. "Fight training begins now." He lunged at her and she easily dodged his advance. Soon she realized this was a practice shot as his aim got more impressive and speedier with each lunge. Instead of getting a chance to attack back with the stick; which she assumed was to take the place of a sword, she wound up having her hands full simply dodging and blocking his advances. If she was being honest, her agility and ability to dodge had to come from the wolf, because she never possessed this skill before.

  After about ten minutes of blocking she made her first mistake; she took her eyes off of him to wipe the sweat from her face. He took that opportunity to swing low and knock her feet out from underneath her. She flew backwards, proving gravity does exist, and fell flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her once again. Before she could gather her reserves he was on top of her, straddling her hips. In other situations this position may have been enticing, but that was not the case at
this very moment. His eyes were dark and deadly when he crossed both bamboo sticks around her neck like a pair of scissors.

  "With one swift motion you’re dead." He said coldly. "That’s if you hadn't already bled to death from the silver sword I used to weaken you during the battle."

  "Only mortal wounds with silver can kill a werewolf." She countered his brutal honesty with a piece of her own.

  He pulled the ankle dagger out of its holster and sliced into her hand. She felt the sting of the knife cutting through the skin as easy as butter. Blood pooled around the wound and showed no sign of healing.

  "Silver slows your super healing abilities." The cut on her hand continued to bleed, not heal as quickly as before which only served to reinforce his demonstration.

  Then, just as suddenly, he stood up and waited for her to join him. "Point received." Rebecca grumbled as she made quick work of returning to a standing position. He tossed her the bamboo stick again and went on the attack forcing her to go on the defense. "Can't we take a short break?" She whined, which really was unbecoming as she blocked a swing that promised to hit her straight across the face.

  "Your enemies won’t be giving you a break, and neither will I during training." He made his point when his stick knocked her sharply against the outer thigh. During the training she couldn’t silence her wolf from snide comments, growls and snarls. The wolf was making it clear she didn’t like Lucky one bit. They sparred all morning and only took a break when his mother came downstairs to gather them for lunch.

  "Not yet, mother." He forced the words out between clenched teeth as he attacked and Rebecca continued to counter.

  "Lucian." Josephine’s voice held a warning. She stood on the outside of the mat; arms crossed over her chest, and raised her black eyebrow. The ice cold stare was enough to give Rebecca the shivers and he quickly finished their match so they could join her for lunch.

  Rebecca had no idea Josephine, the head of the Protectors, was Lucky’s mother. Their coloring was like night and day. She was dark haired with pale skin and he was light haired with tanned skin. However, once Rebecca learned this she recognized similarities between the two. They were both long and lean; solid muscle moved effortlessly under their skin when they moved. Her black curls were shaped the same as his blonde ones. Her eyes were more gold and less amber which was the opposite of Lucky’s. But the real sign they were related was in their smiles. She had just as many smiles as her son and when they used the same ones they looked like mirror images; similar to those shared by Savvy and Rebecca.

 

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