Through the Woods

by Cassandra Johnson

  “We’d better get back inside before they start wondering where we are,” Elle said finally, forcing herself to begin walking forward again.

  “I’ll bet Gaerik has already started wondering,” Mairk said, shaking his head slowly as he followed behind Elle, looking up at the house and just like he said, he could see his brother watching them from the window.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  To the surprise of most, Harriet was a fantastic cook. When Marik and Elle entered the house through the kitchen door, Harriet was standing by the stove stirring something in a large pot.

  “Smells good,” Elle commented as she removed her jacket and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair.

  It was strange seeing someone other than her grandmother cooking in this kitchen, but Harriet was a welcomed sight. Harriet had a way of keeping Gaerik in line which Elle watched with avid curiosity.

  “I thought we could all do with a good stew. I’m not sure how I feel about this southern weather though, I expect snow on the ground for Thanksgiving.” Harriet told her, shaking some salt into the pot on the stove.

  Elle couldn’t say she agreed with Harriet about the weather, Elle preferred dead brown grass over snow piling up to your front door, the endless hours of shoveling your driveway while your nose ran like a hot water faucet. Losing your voice because your throat was so raw from breathing in the cold air. Personally, in Elle’s opinion, snow was only useful if you were watching it in a movie, in real life it was just nonsense that Elle could easily do without.

  “You two better wash your hands before you even think about touching anything in this house,” Harriet said suddenly stopping Elle and Marik as they were on their way into the living room where Gaerik and Alex where sitting on the couch watching television.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Elle said turning right back around and heading to the kitchen sink.

  “Don’t call me ma’am, I’m not an old woman.” Harriet snapped.

  Laughing gently Elle turned the hot water on and let it begin to warm up before wetting her hands. “You know, that’s something I immediately noticed about Northern women.” She said as she pumped soap into her hands and began to rub them together, Marik standing closer to her than she thought was necessary.

  “Huh?” Harriet turned around looking at Elle skeptically.

  “Northern women taking being called ma’am as an insult.” She laughed as she began to rinse, stepping away from Marik as she grabbed a paper towel. “In the south, one of the first things that children are taught to say are ma’am and sir. Heck, my nana would have whipped me raw if I answered her without saying, ma’am. It’s meant to be respectful, not ageist or elitist. It’s just good manners to be polite.” She explained before coming closer to consider the pot as Harriet was sliding raw stew meat into the boiling water with the potatoes.

  Harriet seemed to be mulling over what she’d said hard because she wasn’t speaking, just continued with her task before Harriet seemed to nod up and down as if she understood. Saying, ma’am, was as natural as ordering fries with a cheeseburger.

  Smiling slowly, she leaned over pressing her lips against Harriet’s cheek before brushing her hands together softly.

  “Now, is there anything that I can do to help you get supper fixed?” Elle asked pressing her brows slightly higher into her forehead.

  “You could start chopping up those carrots.” Although Harriet could have done it herself, she knew that Elle was looking for something that didn’t involve sitting in the living room with the men watching television.

  “Sure.” Turning Elle sidestepped Marik as she went and got the carrots out of the fridge taking them over to the sink, before he too seemed to find more interest in what was currently playing on the tv.

  Once he was out of the room, Elle sighed softly. She liked Marik a lot, and when they were alone together it seemed a lot easier, but with Gaerik there she felt herself become tense knowing that he was watching every move that she made and watching the way that she and Marik interacted together.

  “It doesn’t get any easier from here.” Harriet murmured knowing full well that they could be heard by wolf ears.

  Elle cast a glance over her shoulder at Harriet as she took a seat at the table for a moment, wiping her hands off on a dish towel. Elle nodded but before she was given much chance to speak Molly came in through the backdoor halting their conversation from moving into uncomfortable territory.

  “Good evening ladies.” She grinned placing a six pack of beer in the fridge along with a plate that Elle knew were her famous buttermilk biscuits, Shaye only a few steps behind her with a backpack slung over one shoulder.

  Elle wasn’t sure what that was but looking at Shaye all grown up now it didn’t make Elle think of Shaye as a wolf but more like a wily fox, perhaps it was that sly grin that was on the girls face or the way that her eyes sparkled.

  “Hey, Molly,” Elle said glancing from grandmother to granddaughter for a moment as Shaye dropped the backpack onto the table with a mild thud that made her curious to know what she had brought along with her. Elle’s thoughts spun wondering if there were ancient werewolf weapons inside the bag, completely forgetting about everyone else in the room, including Luke’s entrance through the back door. Apparently, her home was turning into a revolving door of people who just came and went as they pleased. Almost standing on her tip toes Elle watched as Shaye unzipped the backpack, Shaye’s hand disappearing inside for a moment, Elle was expecting to see metal appear but it was –a book. A very battered one.

  “She’s been driving us all crazy.” Lucas murmured as he made a quick escape from the kitchen and all the women who dwelled within straight into the living room where Marik, Gaerik, Alex, and Gallen were.

  “I brought every copy of your books that I own.” Shaye began holding the most beat up copy in her hands. “I was hoping that you would sign them for me.”

  “Shaye, I told you that you weren’t going to pester Elle just because she wrote some books about werewolves. Girl, you are a werewolf.” Molly hissed snapping a beer can open and take a drink of it before passing one to Harriet.

  “I don’t mind.” Elle laughed and looked at some of the books. Only a couple of them had made it to the bestsellers list, others were, at least in her own eyes, flops. Even now, some years after finishing a book she wished that she could go back and do certain things a little differently.

  “You’re a good girl Elle,” Molly said as she glanced at the carrots in the sink for a moment before deciding to pass right on by and take Harriet with her into the living room.

  Shaye beamed at her before pulling a sharpie marker out of her pocket. “I don’t care if you just sign your name.” She nodded up and down rapidly.

  “Is there one in particular that is your favorite?” Elle asked glancing at the small stack of novels that were sitting out on the kitchen table as she uncapped the marker.

  Nodding Shaye picked up the first volume of Mistress Delilah and held it out to her proudly. It was falling apart which to Elle was always the stamp of a book that had been well loved but looking at the cover made Elle blush slightly remembering some of the more explicit scenes in the novel as she carefully turned the book open and sat down in one of the chairs.

  “You know, I know we’re adults, but I’m still a little embarrassed knowing that you read this.” Elle laughed as she began to scribble on the inside cover of the little paperback book.

  “Why?” Shaye asked glancing around the kitchen before she figured out what was happening before they arrived and went to wash her hands, grabbing a knife from the butcher block beginning to chop the carrots while Elle was laboring over her books.

  “I guess just because you’re a little younger than I am. We used to play house as kids, and you were always my baby, and now I’m signing these books that have some, well, not exactly tame sexual acts in them.” Elle snorted as she tilted her head softly looking the cover over a moment longer before she finally closed the last book down.r />
  “They are the first sex scenes that I ever read.” Shaye laughed taking the carrots to the pot and dropping them inside before turning back to look at the books now neatly stacked on the table.

  “Oh, Jesus.” Elle cackled shortly. “That does not make me feel any less like a smut peddler,” Elle told her laughing so nervously that she snorted.

  “Whose peddling smut?” Gaerik stood in the doorway of the kitchen, letting his shoulders fill the frame.

  Alpha male posturing instantly popped into Elle’s head before she caught herself about to laugh and forced it down, helping Shaye put her books away in her backpack again. Somehow, having Gaerik looking at her books was even more embarrassing than knowing that Shaye had read them all. Not to mention the fact that she had seen some of Gaerik’s texts to women that would have made a sailor blush.

  “We’re just talking about Elle seeing me as a baby.” Shaye covered, sensing Elle’s embarrassment as she zipped up her backpack and placed it beside the back door so that she wouldn’t forget it when they left.

  “Is that so?” Gaerik’s brows quirked up softly glancing from one woman to the other for a moment. “Didn’t sound like it from the living room.”

  Shaye shrugged softly. “Elle’s an amazing writer, aside from smut as well.” Nodding as she made herself busy stirring the contents of the boiling water for a moment.

  “Oh, I’m aware of that,” Gaerik said tilting his head towards Elle for a moment before bending at the waist until he was a breathes width away from her face, and she could smell the faint musk of his cologne assaulting her senses from his proximity. “The chandelier scene in chapter twelve of Mistress Delilah’s How to Tame Your Alpha is one of my personal favorites.”

  Christ, not only was he a lady killer –in the sexual sense of the word, but he also had to have a photographic memory too. Elle took in a deep breath, blinking several times to recover from the look in Gaerik’s eyes that read very clearly, he’d practically memorized that passage of her book.

  Straightening, Gaerik seemed satisfied with her physical reaction, a smirk firmly wedged onto his features before clapping his hands together. “Before we eat, we have some business to discuss. Ladies, if you will join us in the living room.”

  “Business?” Elle’s face scrunched up softly as she rose from her chair and Shaye turned the fire down on the stew as they followed Gaerik into the living room where the television was now turned off, and everyone had found a seat leaving only floor space available. “Have we come up with a plan as to what we are going to do?” Elle asked as she folded into a seat on the rug, pulling her legs up to sit Indian style while Gregory and Champ came to rest on either side of her like sentinels on duty.

  There was a tension in the room as Elle and Shaye took seats on the floor and looked around at the small gathering. Marik did not seem pleased by the topic of conversation that had taken place right before Gaerik went to call the girls attention into the next room, but for whatever reason Elle knew that she was about to find out why. She tried to get some sign of what was going on by looking to Gallen, but he also seemed just as hard as a stone, she’d never seen him look so closed off.

  “The reason gran, Shaye and I came over tonight isn’t just for Sunday dinner,” Lucas said lighting a cigarette as he put his thoughts together. “I’ve enlisted the help of the pack to come here tomorrow to train you all.”

  “Train us?” Elle looked at him curiously.

  “Some of us will be able to rely on our nature to defend ourselves, and even then, some of us have never had to fight a day in our lives. We need to know how to fight, and I can’t imagine that the Council is going to take it easy on us. They will pull out every dirty trick in the book to get what they want. Given a chance, they’ll kill us all.” Lucas said glancing around the room. “So, we need to be prepared, this isn’t some schoolyard brawl or even play fighting within the pack. Chalicemans, you’re going against the Council for the title of pack Alpha, it’s going to be just like it was in the old days you have to fight for the power to lead.”

  “I don’t think that the humans should fight,” Gallen said, his jaw tight as he looked at Lucas.

  “I know that Gallen, and I understand your reasons why, but we can’t assume that one of us will be able to protect them at all times. They’ll need to know our weaknesses and how to defend themselves against werewolves who want to kill them.”

  “I’d never let anything happen to Nana and Elle,” Shaye spoke up looking at her brother, her expression a little pissed that he would even make such a remark.

  “Shaye, what would happen if you were guarding Elle and Nana and you were wounded or distracted even just for a second? What do you think would happen to them? It’s better that they receive the same amount of training that we will. It gives us all a fighting chance.”

  “I like it,” Harriet said, her beer can to her lips as she took a noisy sip. “I haven’t had a good scrap in years.”

  “You’re not fighting old woman.” Gaerik snapped rolling his eyes somewhat.

  “The hell I’m not.” Harriet murmured.

  “We’re all fighting,” Lucas said, the final note of his voice cementing the physical torture that would be taking place the next day.

  “Don’t worry Elle, I’ve got your back.” Shaye nodded before reaching out and taking her grandmother's hand, squeezing it gently.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Lighting another cigarette Elle looked at her phone on the nightstand, the surface reflecting the time from the digital clock, each minute seemed to taunt her like the countdown to doom. It was half-past two in the morning, and she couldn’t force herself to shut the lamp off and lay her head down on the pillow, it wasn’t the fear of training that kept her awake but what Lucas had said. Every second that passed seemed to bring darker days towards them and the knowledge that their future was bathed in blood.

  Without sleep to escape, Elle pushed the covers back and got out of bed, slipping her house shoes on before she cracked the door of her bedroom open and quietly slipped out into the hallway headed downstairs to find something to eat. At dinner, Elle could barely touch her stew which was good, but it was the conversation that made her push her bowl away and cross her legs, fidgeting, and picking at her fingernails. If Elle couldn’t sleep then she was going to make some coffee and sneak some food back into her bedroom to write for a couple of hours until it was impossible to feel fear and more importantly, she couldn’t hold her eyes open. The morning was going to quite literally kick her in the ass when the rest of the pack showed up to train them which Elle could not say she was looking forward too. Molly didn’t look very pleased either, but Harriet acted like she was ready to pick a fight, which wouldn’t have surprised her at all the way that she and Gaerik bickered back and forth between each other. Honestly, they could actually get pretty nasty with each other, but it was evident that they genuinely cared about one another, they just had a bizarre way of showing it.

  As Elle reached the landing of the stairs, she could see the light on in the kitchen from the living room, frowning she put her cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen and found Gallen, sitting at the table making himself a sandwich.

  “Can’t sleep either?” Elle asked using the elastic band around her wrist to tie her hair back from her neck.

  “God no,” Gallen sighed, mildly scrapping his fingertips over the shadow of stubble that was growing on his jaw. “I’m not a coward Elle, but I am afraid. What if something happens to one of my boys or you?”

  Elle got a plate down from the cabinet and sat down across the table from him and took two slices of wonder bread from the sleeve, beginning to build her own sandwich.

  “It’s all I’ve been able to think about,” Elle admitted pouring mustard onto her bread before she looked up into his eyes. They felt so familiar like she had been looking into those eyes all her life, Elle felt the same way when she looked at Marik, it felt like she found a father,
a brother and a best friend in the Chaliceman family. Elle didn’t want to lose them.

  I’m afraid of losing you too, all of you, I’m scared of killing, and I’m so afraid of being killed. I’ve already cheated death once, I can’t say for sure whether fate is kind enough to allow it twice.” Elle looked down and swallowed. “I just wish that there was an easier way to do this, but I don’t know what that is.” Elle pursed her lips gently as she folded pieces of ham over her bread before wiping her fingers clean on a napkin. Meeting Gallen’s eyes again she was searching for some sort of peace or reassurance in them, but instead, she saw him smiling. “What?” she asked, confused.

  “You cheated death, Elle,” Gallen said. “During all this, I had forgotten that we already lost you once and you pulled through it. Gregory had a lot to do with that, but I believe there might also be something else. You were meant to live.”

  Elle was quiet as she applied cheese to her luncheon meat and placed the top piece of bread onto her sandwich.

  “I’m going to take that as a good omen,” Elle told him, it seemed stupid to say that she wasn’t afraid of dying, but she hoped that if fate had something big in store for her that it also included everyone she loved as well. “Maybe I’m supposed to help you somehow?” Elle questioned, reaching across the table and sprinkling some Lay’s potato chips onto his and her plate. “I lived through something that anyone else wouldn’t have, let’s hope there was a reason for that and not just due to the bite of a guardian.” Elle smiled warmly.

  Gallen nodded in agreement, the worry lessening from his features as he began to eat. “Let us hope so, sweetheart.” Gallen’s deep rich baritone tickled the little hairs within her ear canal. It was strange how something so simple as the sound of a loved one’s voice could bring a sense of calm to the storm in your soul, but that is precisely what Gallen’s did at that moment. Not the words he spoke, but the way in which they were expressed, with the spirit of hope.