by JK Cooper
“Depends. The new ones or the old ones? The prequels don’t count.”
“Yeah, those were . . . a mess. But you don’t like Rey? Isn’t she like supposed to be the new female empowerment thing? Her and Wonder Woman?”
“I like them both, but Kylo Ren?” Shelby said.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Um, the tantrums. Really? The Dark Side makes men into petulant children now?” The use of the same word Eira had used to describe her made her blush. Shelby felt the wolf smile. Shut it.
Kale pursed his lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“You have to say that.”
“Why? Because I’m your boyfriend?”
“Yeah, I think you’re a little more than that, Kale Copeland.” She squeezed his hand. “Bonded, as Sadie likes to call it.”
He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. Chills ran up her arm.
“I hate you,” she whispered, shivering with happy thoughts of them together.
It was Kale’s turn to blush. “Now, don’t start projecting. That won’t be a good way to start the first day of school . . . every wolf for miles finding me irresistible.”
“I think it’d be a great way.” She grinned. “Really get to see how you deal with staying true to me.”
Kale shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “I’m not sure riding to school together is a good idea. I’m trying hard not to pull over and start making out. Skipping sounds way too enticing this morning.”
“Agreed.” She hit Kale with a projection—just him. She had been practicing her control, running a projection down one particular link at a time. She watched his cheeks turn a darker crimson as the truck swung into the student section of the parking lot. She laughed.
“Yeah, your Omega magic tricks are not going to be helpful for my grades.”
Grades. School. Things that suddenly felt so trivial and small in the midst of her revelations about herself, Kale, and their Immortal Wolves.
Kale parked, but left the ignition running. “You know where you’re going for your first class?”
“Yeah.” She pulled the schedule and map out of her bag, each class highlighted in a different color. “I’ve got trig with Sadie. Mrs. Lloyd, room 115 C.”
Kale groaned. “Trig first thing in the morning? I just got a bad taste in my mouth.”
“No kissing me for now, then.” She pulled on the door handle. “Bad tastes are not what I’m hoping for in that department.”
“If you really loved me, you’d sacrifice for my happiness,” Kale said with a smirk.
“No way, Kale Copeland. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t ask me to sacrifice anything for you.”
“When have I ever asked you to before?”
“Every time you put music on,” Shelby said with a groan. “What happened to the progress we were making on that front?”
Kale rolled his eyes. “I can only take so much old Exodus—”
“Genesis.”
“I have to bump some Timberlake every once in a while, ya know?”
Shelby rolled her eyes and started mock singing “Can’t Stop the Feeling.”
“You liked Trolls and you know it.” He started singing the song without any hint of mockery.
She leaned in to smother his singing with kisses but stopped short. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What? You can’t be hating on that masterpiece of a movie? You love Zooey Deschanel.”
“I was talking about your breath,” Shelby said, covering her nose. “I thought you were joking, but it’s truly terrible.”
“Get out of my truck, Brooks.”
“Seriously, just because you drive a Raptor, doesn’t mean you should adopt dino breath. I am so not kissing you today.”
“Not until I see you in the halls on the way to second period, that is.” He took out a tin of Altoids from his pocket and shook them. “Cinnamon.”
“How many are in there?” Shelby asked.
“Huh?”
“Half a box wouldn’t make a dent. It’s like salty garlic and ocean. I’m concerned.”
Kale laughed. “Bubba’s mom made lime chicken stuffed with tapenade and wrapped in bacon. Had some leftovers for breakfast.”
“And you didn’t brush your teeth?”
“I had to sacrifice something to be on time.”
“That’s not the kind of sacrifice I need from you. At all. I’m buying you a camping toothbrush to put in your backpack. For emergencies. Like this.”
The bell rang.
“Time to go,” Kale said.
“I guess,” Shelby said through a sigh, debating whether she would actually forgo a chance to feel those luscious lips against hers. And then more of that salty garlic. Yep. No kissing. She pushed open her door and slung her gym bag with her gymnastics gear over her shoulder. “Hey,” she said as Kale came up next to her, “can I come hang out at your house after school?”
He took her hand and they walked toward the entrance. “Yeah, of course. My mom wanted to run some experiments on you anyway. Be prepared to be studied.”
“What? Why?”
“Summer Omega and bonded. You’re kind of a gold mine for her love of lore, you have to have noticed. Your dad have a shift today?”
“No. That’s kinda the point.”
Kale stopped. Shelby took a couple more steps before he tugged her to a stop.
“What is going on?” Kale asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She let her hair fall in front of her face as she turned.
“Nope. You don’t get to hide, Shelby. Not from me.”
That voice. His gruff, husky, awesome, incredible voice. She felt a pull to please him, to open up. She almost felt obligated to . . . wait. “Did you just try to use an Alpha voice on me?” She had really felt it. It rippled through her.
Kale looked down, almost embarrassed. “If I did, it wasn’t intentional. I’m not an Alpha.”
“You are, Kale.” She peeked at him through her hair. Oh, those deep hazel eyes, raptor breath notwithstanding. “Not of our pack, but you’re still an Alpha. Your wolf was, you are, and you will be again.”
He looked away. “So, my house tonight?”
“Hades no, she can’t go to your house after school!”
Shelby turned to see Swearing Sadie and Bubba walking across the front lawn. Wait, and Bubba? Shelby blinked.
“Did you two ride to school together?” She dropped Kale’s hand but stepped closer to him, almost snuggling against his tight body. She knew the layers of muscle that lurked beneath his t-shirt. She had seen him naked, tipples and all. Not that she remembered much of that part, focused on saving his life more than admiring his . . . packaging.
“Pshh, please,” Sadie said. She had a composition notebook in one arm and a Hello Kitty! backpack on her shoulder. “No way Tubba here copulating fits in my little Z3.”
“Hey, girl, what makes you think you’d drive, Red?” Bubba asked, hand on a hip. “I’d be a gentleman, pick you up, and drive you to school all proper-like.”
“The only thing you’re driving is me toward bat feculence crazy!” Sadie stammered. “And I wouldn’t be caught dead in Bumble Bee.”
“You don’t like Camaros?” Kale asked.
“Nah, homie, old school Bumble Bee,” Bubba said. “From the 80s. Legit, ya feel?”
“A bug?” Shelby asked. “You drive a yellow VW bug? How did I not know this?”
“Cuz you were too busy gettin’ kidnapped and almost killed and all,” Bubba said with a cheesy grin. “But those All Stars of yours match Bumble Bee all sweet like.”
Shelby looked down to her yellow Converse All Stars. Yellow Chucks in a yellow bug. Could be cute. Almost sounded like a comic strip—or a horror movie. Her life could be a comedic horror at times, she supposed.
Sadie slapped Bubba’s arm, looking around at the students passing them by. The slap sounded muted as Bubba’s flubber-arm seemed to simply abso
rb the blow. “Shut it!” Sadie hissed, jaw tight. “Mrs. Copeland made you swear—”
“Mrs. C. don’t scare me none,” Bubba said. “Besides, no one knows what I’m talking about.”
“Truer words,” Sadie said. “You’re incomprehensible ninety-eight percent of the ti—”
Bubba blinked, and Sadie’s composition notebook flew from her grip, pages flipping open as it cartwheeled across the grass. Sadie whirled on Bubba, rising to her toes, and growled a soft rumble. Shelby saw her eyes flash with amber flecks.
“Better fetch your condemned notebook, little doggie,” Bubba said, with an even wider, cheesy smile. “Or you could let me get it for you, like a gentleman, and return it to you, but I doubt you’d even say thank you.”
“You can’t go all psychokinetic on me in public!”
Bubba cocked his head. “In private, then? Girl, I’d blow your mind.”
Shelby’s eyebrows twitched. “You two really should just get it all out.”
“What’s that mean?” Sadie asked sassily.
“She means just make out and get it over with,” Kale said. “This is getting tough to watch.”
“Well, ya know,” Bubba said, “Homecoming’s right around the corner, so I was kinda—”
“Hey, looks like you dropped this,” a new voice said.
Sean came walking up to them, composition book held out to Sadie. She looked at Bubba, and said, “Thank you, Sean. What a gentleman.”
“Yeah, I try,” he said as she took the notebook back. “See you later tonight?”
“I’m taking Shelby dress shopping, but afterwards, for sure.”
“You are?” Shelby asked.
Sadie gave her an opened-mouthed don’t-be-dense look. “Duh. Means your dinner date with Kale and his mom will have to wait. After that, I’m all yours, Sean.”
“Cool,” Sean said. “I’ll raid my dad’s closet for a matching tie to whatever dress you pick out. He’s bound to have something.”
Bringing her eyes back to Bubba, she said, “Sounds bloody splendid.”
“Cool. See ya guys.” Sean ran off, and Shelby couldn’t help peeking at his retreating calves, just as she had when she first met him. Cross country had done that boy good. Catching herself, she turned away and glanced at Kale, feeling a flash of guilt and hoping he hadn’t seen her. Whoa! Kale was looking at Sean’s legs too, slowly shaking his head in disbelief or admiration.
“It’s like he stole the legs from a statue at a museum or something,” Kale mumbled.
“I know . . .” Sadie drawled breathlessly. “Chiseled marble.”
“Yeah, but you got the biceps off the same statue,” Shelby said to Kale.
He smiled coyly. “Shelby Brooks, are you feeling a little guilty?”
“Um, no? I think? Maybe?”
Kale laughed. “It’s cool. I kinda felt it. Bond, remember? I can always kill him later.” He rubbed at a bicep through his t-shirt. “Really put these to good use.”
Heat rose on Shelby’s cheeks. “Humble, aren’t we?”
“Weren’t you the one just calling my biceps chiseled marble?”
“Cold, girl,” Bubba said, staring at Sadie and ignoring the rest of them. “Always so cold. You coulda just told me you were going to Homecoming with him.”
“Why? I live for awkward moments,” Sadie said. “Hey, speaking of that,” she said as she turned to Shelby, “can we stop off at your place for a minute after school? Haven’t seen your hot-thang of a dad in a few days. I got a new line from a romance novel I want to try out on a real man.”
“Nope,” Shelby said. “That’s not happening. Ever.”
Sadie stuck her bottom lip out. It quivered.
“Pout all you want, won’t change a thing,” Shelby said.
Bubba cleared his throat. “I mean, your boy Bubba’s willing to—”
“Nope,” Sadie said. “Pout all you want, won’t change a thing.”
Bubba blinked and Sadie’s red ponytail flipped up and over to her forehead.
“Creator condemn it, Bubba! My property and I are not your playthings.”
“Good, cause my stomach’s starting to growl,” he said, “and I don’t want to be starving by lunch. Going PK takes it out of me, ya know?”
“Come on.” Shelby pushed Sadie along toward the entrance. “We’re going to be late to Trig. Can’t miss a minute of that excitement.”
As Shelby and Sadie walked ahead of the boys, Shelby whispered, “I thought you two were kinda . . . ya know . . . on better terms?”
“Why, because he saved my life?”
“Well, there is that.”
They walked through the front doors and the metal detectors. Even in small-town, Texas? Shelby thought.
“I don’t know . . . it’s just . . .” Sadie sighed and glanced over her shoulder. Shelby did the same, and knew they looked like they were conspiring. Kale and Bubba hadn’t moved, still standing on the sidewalk outside. Bubba had his head down and Kale was saying something. Through their bond, she could feel his concern for his friend, but also a hint of humor about the situation he was trying to suppress. Shelby snickered as she let his humor play within her.
“Something funny?” Sadie snapped.
“Oh,” Shelby said, catching herself. “No. Yes, but not you.”
“I bloody hope not.”
Sadie opened her locker and shoved her backpack inside.
“So, did we ever decide if bloody is a swear word for you, with your dad being from England and all?” Shelby asked.
Sadie slammed her locker door and Shelby jumped.
Easy, Shelby thought, soothing her friend with her Omega influence.
Sadie deflated, her shoulders relaxing. “Sorry, I’m not trying to PMS all over the place.”
“Ah, that makes more sense.”
Sadie scrunched her eyebrows. “Really? I haven’t had a period in months.”
“But you said—”
“Figure of speech much?”
“Um, Sadie, if you haven’t had your cycle in months, that’s not good. Or you’re, uh . . .” Shelby sucked her lips back.
“No, I’m not preggers. Geez, you’re still a rookie.” She drew closer to Shelby. “Venatrix, remember? I can control my cycles, for a while, anyway.”
“You can?” Shelby paused. “Can I?”
Sadie shook her head. “Remember that whole thing about my crap don’t stink? What kind of secret snooping werewolf would I be if another wolf could smell my—”
“Yeah, I got it,” Shelby said. “Anyway, maybe lay off Bubba a little. I get the feeling he might go all Carrie on us if you push him too far.”
They started walking toward their trigonometry class, Shelby dragging the heels of her Converse. They had lost most of their grip on the soles. Maybe she’d get new shoes along with a dress. They were rich, after all, something else her dad hadn’t deemed worthy of telling her.
“Who’s Carrie? And why do I care?”
“Um, hello? Stephen King much?” Shelby scoffed.
“The guy who writes about psycho clowns killing kids?”
“He’s a freaking genius.”
“He’s full of SWAC. Clowns aren’t scary.” Sadie shivered. “Mimes on the other hand . . . those things are freaky-wicked.”
They arrived at their classroom just as the final bell rang. Students were jostling about, laughing, and switching seats. The teacher sat in her chair, staring at a folder, waiting for the bell to ring again.
Shelby felt the nervous excitement, some flirtation, and dread—mostly dread—in the air. Huh, can I feel the emotions of humans too? It appeared so, but not as individuals like she could with her pack. A collective feeling then? She doubted she’d get a handle on this Omega thing anytime soon.
“Just . . . maybe give Bubba a little less SWAC,” she said as they found seats close to the windows.
Sadie ground her teeth. “Fine, whatever you say.”
Shelby froze, staring past her friend. Her
mouth fell open.
Sadie’s angry, frustrated expression shifted to confusion. “What?”
Shelby, still mute, lifted a finger and pointed at three dolled up faces that could put any model in Seventeen to shame. They had just entered the classroom.
Sadie glanced over her shoulder and ground her teeth harder with a bit of a growl. “Oh, that’s some bull feces right there!” Everyone in the classroom stopped talking and moving. A dead silence reigned.
Chelsea Gittrick. Trish Hollis. Amanda Rodriguez. The whorey trinity, in full effect, and all in Trig with them.
Chelsea smiled wolfishly—there wasn’t any other way to describe it better—and walked up to the teacher’s desk.
“Mrs. Lloyd,” Chelsea said in her sweetest passive aggressive tone. “I want to learn from you this year. I feel like you have, like, just so much to teach me.” She gestured at her constant companions. “To teach us. But, that,” she pointed to Shelby and Sadie, “is going to be a problem.” Chelsea twirled a lock of her blonde hair. “I’d appreciate putting them as far away from the rest of us as possible. It’s really in the class’s best interest. Or perhaps an after-school arrangement can be made for the undesirables.”
“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Lloyd said, glancing to Sadie and Shelby. “What’s the problem?”
“Nothing really, Mrs. Lloyd,” Sadie snapped. “Shelby stole the banshee’s boyfriend, and she can’t handle it.”
Two indignant gasps cut the silence. Amanda and Trish, of course.
“Oh, quit your mouth-farting,” Sadie said. “It’s embarrassing.”
Chelsea sneer-smiled, her lip and fingers twitching. Shelby felt something push into her, like a hot wind. It passed as quickly as it came, and Chelsea blinked in what Shelby thought was confusion.
“If everyone would just take their seats, we’ll begin,” Mrs. Lloyd said, doing her best to step away from Chelsea. “Aren’t you all excited to dive into the wonders of Trigonometry?”
Sadie and Shelby groaned along with the rest of the class. The whorey trinity’s distraction was sad and pathetic, but no doubt more entertaining than what would inevitably follow. Mrs. Lloyd made her way to the white board, uncapped a dry-erase marker, and turned to the class with an annoyingly excited facial expression. “It’s going to be an amazing year!”