Bitter Rivalry (Bitterroot Series Book 1)

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Bitter Rivalry (Bitterroot Series Book 1) Page 4

by Heather Hildenbrand


  “You don’t have to come with me,” I said.

  He waited and I knew he was testing to see if I’d refuse his offer outright. When I didn’t, he brushed past me, headed for the woods. “I know,” he said simply, already on his way so that I had no choice but to follow.

  Sometimes, Carter’s ability to manage me scared the crap out of me.

  Chapter Five

  Charlie

  My wolf was fighting claustrophobia.

  I hadn’t been outside in two days. I had no fingernails left to speak of and I could almost literally feel the Vitamin D in my bloodstream slowly leaking away. But after forty-eight hours of stubborn contemplation I still had no idea what to do.

  Regan had been right. I wanted this. Or some better version of this. I loved my mom but I wanted family. The big, loud, annoying kind that got under your skin. The kind you always complained about but never really wanted to leave. I wanted a home. Roots. A place I belonged. And no matter how close my mom and I were, Oregon was never going to be that.

  I still hadn’t called her. By now, she was probably worried sick, so maybe it was self-preservation that kept me from dialing her. That and I knew she’d ask me what I wanted to do next. I had no clue.

  The knock at the door jolted me and I felt myself flush at having jumped, even if no one was around to see it. “What?” I called in a curt voice to hide my embarrassment.

  “Lunch,” Brent said. Maybe it should’ve been comforting that he was always there, but Brent wasn’t an endearing sort. In two days, we hadn’t made it past “Lunch, dinner, and thanks.” I wasn’t holding out much hope for our future.

  I went to the door and swung it open—and stopped short at the sight of my visitor. “You’re not Brent.”

  “You’re quick.” Regan shoved my tray at me and stepped into the room before I could shut the door.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “I …” She stopped and when she answered, I knew she’d changed her mind against whatever she’d been about to say. “I want you to stay,” she said finally.

  Deep down, I knew those words were complicated truth. But right now, after two days of sitting in my own messy self-doubt and loneliness, I decided to accept them at face value. “I think … that’s what I want too,” I said.

  She tried to smile, but it fell short. “I’m not going to pretend this isn’t totally awkward but I do think you owe it to yourself to stick it out. So for what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right call.”

  The right call. So much love and warm fuzzies with this girl. I sighed. “And that’s what you came up here to tell me?” I asked.

  “Dad sent me up,” she admitted. “He wants you to get a tour of the town.”

  “If I say no, are you going to hit me over the head and drag me there anyway?” I asked.

  Her lips thinned and for a fraction of a second, I could see a real emotion pass over her face. Worry, or maybe concern, and then … nothing. Just as quickly as it had come, it left. In its place was even more control than had been there before. “I understand how hard this must be for you, finding out we all exist like this, but you don’t really have a choice in being here.”

  Regan, the leader, the emotionless. I wanted to ask her how she did it, switching on and off like that, but I suspected that might ruin the semblance of civility we’d just established. “You might as well make the best of it,” she added.

  She had a point, though I wouldn’t admit that out loud. Not to her. She was too sure of herself already. It made me feel ... small, somehow. I waited a beat to prove some point that probably didn’t exist.

  “Fine,” I said. “Show me around.”

  Instead of turning to leave, she kept her feet planted and continued to stare at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I just ... You’re shorter than I expected.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but she spun on her heel and exited the room. I hesitated, trying to decide if I’d just been insulted. Finally, still undecided, I followed her out.

  I found her waiting in the hall. The same stocky guard from earlier eyed me like he suspected I’d run for it any second.

  “That’s enough, Brent. I got this.” Regan gave him a stern nod and led me away. Brent stayed where he was, his eyes boring into my back all the way down the hall.

  Regan led me down a flight of stained wood stairs and out the front door.

  I tried to remember if I’d seen any of this on the way in, but I’d been so out of it—first from the knock on the head and then from some sort of drink they fed me during the drive—I barely remembered stumbling from the van into the house just before daylight.

  But now, with a clear head and plenty of light, I saw how different the terrain looked from the town I’d left behind in Oregon. The front yard was long and narrow and cut off at the base of a steep hill. Farther below, I could see groupings of houses and buildings set in a wide circle. Beyond that, nothing but forest in every direction broken only by softly rolling hills that finally disappeared behind forest.

  The air was warm and the sun was high in the sky. I wondered how long I’d been out, or exactly how far away from home I was.

  “Pretty view,” I said, leaving my voice flat against the compliment. I wasn’t sure why I was being so difficult. This wasn’t Regan’s fault. But something about her reminded me so much of the man who called himself my father. And everyone else who’d lied. “Where are we?”

  “Paradise,” Regan said with a shrug.

  I blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

  “Paradise, California. The town was founded over one hundred years ago by the first wolf pack to travel from northern Canada into America. Current population seven hundred.” She eyed me and hastily amended, “Seven hundred and one.”

  My eyed widened. “Wait. The town’s population … all of them are like us?”

  Regan laughed, a sharp, biting sound. “No. The pack totals about seventy, including small children and the council elders. Every one of them live in the group of houses you see below.” She pointed to the houses clustered at the bottom of the hill. “We’re just far enough outside of town to be considered our own village, if you will. Some of the elders have talked about going for our own township to cut ourselves off even more, but nothing’s happened yet. So far, the humans pretty much leave us alone.” She leaned over and lowered her voice to a whisper. “They think we’re some sort of radical cult colony. If anyone asks, just say Jesus Saves in your craziest voice. They’ll leave in you alone.”

  Any other day, it might’ve been funny. But after being kidnapped and meeting my estranged father and sister, nothing was funny about this situation. “Why are we up here?” I asked, gesturing to the house behind us.

  “We are the alpha family, the most likely to be attacked. From down there, the pack has a clear view of the main house. They can see and protect us.”

  “Wouldn’t living next door to the pack make it easier to defend us? So we’re closer to help?” I asked.

  “Being up here keeps the alpha separated from the commoners.”

  I stared at her, trying to figure out if she was serious. She didn’t crack a smile, and I shook my head. Was my sister really that stuck up?

  I followed Regan to the edge of the yard. When she kept walking past the garage, into the trees, I stopped. “I thought we were going to town.”

  “We are,” she said.

  “The car is parked back there.” I pointed to the late-model Chevy truck parked on the side of the garage.

  “We aren’t taking the truck.”

  “Then how are we getting there?”

  She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Running…”

  She must’ve seen the surprise in my face because she walked back over to where I stood at the edge of the grass. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that a problem?” she added. There was no mistaking the challenge in her tone.

  I met her gaze as steady as I could. “No problem.” />
  She nodded once and then turned back to the forest. I followed and when she broke into a run, I increased my speed. I felt the wolf in me rise to the front of my mind, and I gave in. My bones cracked and shifted and, in mid-stride, furry paws extended out where my feet and arms had been. In the next step I landed on all fours, muscles rippling over furry shoulders. I sped up, gaining momentum and relaxing into my new body.

  Regan was still a few steps ahead of me. Her wolf was a shade lighter than mine, its hair not quite as long. I stretched my neck side to side, straining the muscles of my jaw against the irritation my wolf felt at following instead of leading. That was a new feeling for me. I’d never run with anyone except my mother and she’d never felt this … bossy.

  Regan increased the pace and my wolf matched it. Soon we were shoulder to shoulder. We sped down the hill, the greenery a blur around me. I was focused only on beating Regan. I didn’t know where the town was and I didn’t care. My wolf just wanted to win.

  When Regan veered left, it took me a moment to notice and turn. By then, she was slowing and repositioning. Up ahead, I could see a small woodshed at the edge of a thick grove of trees. Beyond it, a house loomed on the other side of what looked like someone’s backyard. A swing set stood, unused and rusted, on the sunburnt grass.

  Regan steered us toward the house. I let her take the lead again, wary of a man-made building while still in this form. At the edge of the yard, Regan’s wolf form shook around the edges. I could see her beginning to change. She stared me down, letting me know to do the same, and then squeezed her eyes shut as the change completed. When she was back on two legs, she stood and waited for me to join her.

  I pushed the wolf to the back of my mind and pulled on the humanity underneath it. The fur shrank back and in its place were clothes, skin, fingernails. I shook my body, ridding it of the tingling that came from the change, and smoothed my hair. My sweatpants had returned and I was beginning to regret the choice in the heat of midday. California was a lot warmer than Oregon.

  “You’re pretty fast,” Regan said.

  My head came up. “Thanks.” I had the feeling of being sized up. I shifted my weight, resisting the urge to fidget. “Ready?”

  “Let’s go.” Regan led me through the side yard between two houses. The path emptied onto the circular street that encompassed the grouping of houses we stood between. Regan pointed at the house we’d passed. “That’s Carter’s house. His dad is the pack beta so he serves on the council.”

  “Is that like a board of directors or something?” I asked.

  “Sort of. The council is made up of five families, including the alpha. They all get a vote in major pack decisions. Then there’s the elder of elders. He gets two votes. He’s the oldest living member of the pack and has been around since my great-grandparents ran things.”

  “And the beta position you keep talking about. What’s that?”

  “The alpha’s right-hand man—or woman—is called the beta. It represents the second letter of the Greek alphabet and therefore symbolizes a second-in-command figurehead. Carter’s dad was my mom’s—” She swallowed. “Anyway, now he’s my—our—dad’s beta until a new alpha is named.”

  I wanted to reach out or say something meaningful, but words failed me. I didn’t know this girl and something about her, while strong, felt so fragile. Like one wrong word would shatter … everything. So I ignored it in favor of our shared dilemma. “If our dad is alpha already, I don’t understand why he can’t just continue to be. At least for a while longer while we figure out this contest business.”

  Regan shook her head. “It’s against pack law. The title must be passed to a female in the blood line. He’s only temporary alpha by council vote. And even then it’s only because of … what happened to my mom.”

  This time, I knew I couldn’t ignore it. But before I could ask, she turned and cut across the street to the grassy courtyard in the middle of the cul-de-sac. I followed, glancing around. It dawned on me that things were very quiet here. Almost too quiet. No lawnmowers, no traffic, no mailman. Where was everybody?

  Regan stopped in the center and faced the next house. “The houses here all belong to the council members. That one there is Sylvia Lantagne. She’s older but super sweet and always knows when you’re trying to sneak around. It’s weird. And the one beside her is Judas Prescott.” She rolled her eyes as she added, “He’s never wrong.” She turned again, moving clockwise. “And that last one there is Sheridan Waters.” Regan shivered. “Don’t piss her off. She’s sort of scary. Like permanent PMS.”

  I smiled. “Noted.”

  “Seriously. Some freshman kid made the mistake of calling her out on an error she made on one of the recon reports and she made him run perimeter at the sewer plant for like six months. So gross.” Regan wrinkled her nose.

  “Patrols? You guys have a neighborhood watch or something?”

  “We patrol twenty-four hours a day and everyone above the age of fifteen gets worked into the schedule. We have to be on our guard. Otherwise, well, look what happened to my mom.” Her eyes flashed with grief fueled by anger.

  “What did happen to your mom?” I asked quietly.

  She stared into the trees and in a breathy voice said, “She was murdered.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Truly. I can’t imagine…”

  “My dad was out running patrols. I’d gone into town, to a movie with some friends.” Her voice changed the longer she talked. It was touched with softness, and more than a little sadness, and I knew the wound was still fresh. “She was home alone and … the monsters got to her.”

  “So you know who did it?” I asked.

  Her eyes flashed with anger, but she didn’t get the chance to respond.

  “Regan, hello.” A woman with pin-straight blonde hair strode across the grassy courtyard toward us. A blue sports car idled in the driveway of the house behind her. I blinked. I hadn’t even noticed her drive up.

  “Sheridan.” Regan nodded stiffly and instantly took on the calm and collected leader stance I’d seen her wear back at the house.

  “Is this her?” Sheridan stuck her slender hand out toward me. “Charlotte, correct?”

  I shook her hand and forced a smile. Even without Regan’s warning there was something unlikeable about the woman. “It’s Charlie. Nice to meet you.”

  “And you. We’ve all heard so much about you over the years.” Her sharp eyes cut over my shoulder and back again within the spread of a heartbeat. “Did your mother accompany you?”

  “No, she stayed behind,” I said, wondering why she would ask me that if the pack had been the one to decide my mother wasn’t welcome.

  “Hmm.” Her smile turned smug. “Better for her. We wouldn’t want to add more of a load than she’s already had to bear.”

  She tilted her head toward me and I could only assume the “load” she referred to was me. I had to bite my tongue against a sarcastic reply. Sheridan Waters, I decided, could go to hell.

  “I was just showing Charlie around town,” Regan said. I shot her a grateful look for changing the subject.

  “Very good. I suspect I will see you both at the council meeting tomorrow evening. I trust Charlie will be … acclimated to her new situation by then.” She eyed me like one would a child throwing a tantrum and then walked off. Her posture was ramrod straight and stiff.

  “Geez, she walks like she has a stick up her—”

  “Charlie,” Regan hissed.

  “She does.”

  “You can’t say things like that about council members,” Regan whispered as Sheridan headed for her car. She turned back once and waved before getting inside and driving off.

  I shook my head. “But earlier, you said she had permanent—”

  “I shouldn’t have said that. It was disrespectful. An alpha always shows respect to the council and courtesy to the commoners.” It sounded like a recitation, and I wondered if such statements would be part of my new “schooling” dear ol
d Dad had mentioned.

  “That sounds really stuck up,” I said.

  Regan looked at me sharply. “Let’s keep moving.”

  We walked out of the cul-de-sac and down the street. At the stop sign a single car appeared from the other direction. It was the Chevy truck I’d seen at the house. One of the boys I’d seen, Carter I think, was driving. I tried to remember if he’d been one of my abductors but I couldn’t be sure. He caught me watching and smiled and I decided then and there to like him anyway. His was the first genuine welcome I’d seen so far.

  “You girls want a lift?” he asked.

  “Thanks, Carter. We’re fine.” Regan’s answer was short and clipped.

  “You sure? It’d be a lot faster,” he said.

  Regan glared.

  “Your dad said I should drive you,” Carter added, clearly unbothered my Regan’s coldness. He kept pace with us a moment more while Regan seemed to debate.

  Eventually, Regan’s shoulders sagged. “Fine,” she agreed. “Charlie, get in.”

  She opened the door and stepped back so I was forced to slide in first. I wedged myself into the middle seat, one leg on each side of the gearshift, and tried to ignore the claustrophobia I felt at being crammed into such a small space.

  As soon as Regan pulled the door shut Carter hit the gas and flipped a U-turn. We passed a few more houses on the way out of the neighborhood and I did see a few people out and about in the yard or getting into their cars. Carter turned out of the neighborhood and we picked up speed. It was a back road, winding and narrow, with the forest closing us in on both sides. In less than a mile it opened back up again and I could see a small strip of businesses and buildings up ahead. Carter slowed as we neared.

  “So, this is it?” I asked, swiveling right and left to take it all in.

  “Welcome to Paradise,” Carter said with a wide arc of his arm.

  Regan rolled her eyes. “This is town. Unless you want to drive twenty minutes into Hamilton City.”

  “Which we don’t,” Carter put in. “Not usually.”

  “On this side is the post office and the drugstore. On the left is the grocery and gas station,” Regan said. She pointed to each as we passed even though they were clearly marked.

 

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