by Melissa Haag
Chapter 2
Friday night, Barb and Tim dropped me off at Sam’s. Though it was only for a weekend, they knew what it would mean if everything went well. So I willfully squashed my discomfort and endured Barb’s hug. Tim, thankfully, settled on a nod and a wave as I climbed into Sam’s truck.
I used the eight-hour drive to ask Sam direct questions about werewolf life, and tried to soak up everything he said. I stopped talking when we turned off the blacktopped road onto a deeply rutted dirt lane I doubted saw much use. For a mile, I braced myself against the rough ride. Finally, we emerged from the tree-lined path into a wide clearing.
A large two-story log cabin style structure dominated the space, its wings branching out to connect to outlying buildings. Sam parked on the combination of old gravel, stubborn grass, and plain dirt in front of the buildings.
The werewolf community reminded me of an old wilderness resort, one closed for a few years. If not for the lights pouring from several of the windows, I would have locked the truck door instead of getting out.
I shouldered my bag and trailed Sam onto the covered porch. Sam pulled the solid wood door open without knocking. Inside, an eclectic array of rugs along the perimeter of the large main entry accommodated numerous sets of shoes. Hooks on the walls held a bounty of coats, jackets, and overalls.
“We don’t have to worry about stealing here,” Sam said when he caught me looking at the mass of shoes. “And it keeps the rest of the place cleaner if we leave our outside things here.” He started taking off his shoes, and I bent to remove mine.
“You would not believe how messy this place was thirty years ago,” a voice called from the hall.
I looked up from untying my shoes. A tall woman with blonde hair and a gentle smile walked into the entry. I estimated her to be in her late twenties.
“Hello, Gabby,” she said coming to stand next to me. “I’m Charlene. Sam’s told me about you. I’m so thrilled to meet another person like me.” She held out her hand in greeting as I stepped out of my shoes.
Excitement coursed through me. Finally! Sam had mentioned Charlene, another human among the werewolves, during one of our many talks. The possibility that I wasn’t as alone as I thought obliterated any hesitation I might have had, and I reached out and clasped her hand.
Charlene’s grip was firm and sure, but I barely noticed it. The darkness of my other sight had burst open and the brilliance of the sparks surprised me; their normal soft glow amplified so much that the blinding light obscured their gentle colors. I let go of her hand while maintaining my focus. The lights dimmed considerably so I could again discern their soft colors.
Sam’s spark glowed blue with a green halo and hers, while still containing the yellow center like any human, had a red halo. I’d considered the possibility that my orange halo was because I couldn’t see myself correctly using my other sight. But seeing Charlene’s assured me our uniqueness was real.
Beyond our sparks, I noticed other blue-green lights. Not in the immediate area, but spread throughout my area of awareness. The coloring of those lights matched Sam’s. Werewolves then were blue-green, I thought. Color by species made sense, but Charlene and I didn’t match. Why?
“Like me?” Her words suddenly penetrated my study of the sparks. Could she see lights too?
“So far, we are the only two humans who seem to be compatible with werewolves,” she said, still smiling in welcome.
My hope sank. So we were human and...wait, what?
“Compatible?” I looked at Sam in confusion. I knew that I smelled differently to werewolves, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about compatibility. Charlene answered before he could.
“Yes, werewolves choose their Mate—husband or wife—instinctually. They have no history of ever before selecting from humans for their Mates, but here we are. Whatever it takes to become a Mate, we apparently have it, too.”
My mouth popped open in shock as I understood. I turned on Sam.
“You brought me here to hook up with a werewolf?”
“No, Gabby. I apologize for upsetting you,” Charlene said from behind me. I turned to look at her. “Yes, we’re different in that a werewolf might choose us, but that doesn’t mean that they must choose us or that we have to choose them. At your age, there will be no hooking up.”
She looped her arm through mine and gave me a motherly pat. As soon as she touched me, all the sparks around us brightened again. I didn’t even need to focus. The lights just flared and continued to glow brightly without effort. Weird.
She led me toward the hall from which she’d entered. After a few steps, she stumbled and pulled her arm from mine. With relief, the lights in my mind extinguished, and I concentrated on her words.
“I asked Sam to bring you so you and I can talk. As I said, there is no one else like us that we’ve found. I came here when I was younger than you—long story—and met Thomas, the pack’s leader. It was a very hard adjustment with a huge learning curve on both our sides. I don’t want you to have to face any of that on your own. We’ll introduce you slowly to this new world you’re now a part of. If you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask them.”
She led us down a second hallway and stopped in front of a closed door. When she opened it, I saw it led into a very small apartment.
“This is still a work in progress. Let me know if you need anything,” she said, looking at Sam. He nodded.
I took a moment to take in my surroundings as Charlene walked away. The small, main room had only a few mismatched pieces of furniture. The bedroom, which I suspected had once been a walk-in closet, barely held a twin-sized bed, nightstand, and lamp. Sam insisted I take that room as he set his bag on the foldout couch. I didn’t complain. I figured sleeping in a half-sized bed ranked higher than Sam’s sleeper sofa.
A tiny bathroom right off the main living area completed the suite. The apartment definitely qualified as rustic, but I didn’t mind.