Eclipsed Legacy (Sentinels Book 1)

by Alex Stone

  But reality begins to set in. I have to warn everyone. With my hands shaking in front of me, I slowly lay her back down. Part of me wants to mourn the house, as well. My childhood. I know if I pulled out my phone now, the emergency services could probably save it. But that would bring up too many questions, none of which I could answer. Her house is secluded enough, so hopefully the fire will have time to do its work and there won’t be much left of her remains. Maybe they’ll assume she just forgot to turn the stove off.

  My knees quiver as I stand, chest covered in my grandmother’s blood. I can’t fall apart again, not now. I have to warn them all. So, I walk out the front door, closing it, abandoning old relics and symbols of the past, the last remnants of innocence gone, and leaving everything I’ve ever loved behind me to burn.

  Chapter 5

  With a heavy heart, I pass Grandma’s little Kia. I still have to get back to Uncle Carl’s by seven, but my phone is dead. “Borrowing” her car may raise questions, and I’m not sure I can bear to drive the thing. I decide to carry on by foot.

  The area’s isolated enough that I doubt anyone would notice me walking down the side of the dirt road. I walk close to the tree line, rather right next to the road. As the chill begins to set in, I almost regret not snatching one of Grandma’s many sweaters from her car. They’d probably smell just like her. When my mind tries to drift to darker, brooding thoughts, I look down at my feet and count each step until a slight pain goes through my body and I see two black paws carrying me forward. My mind is so numb the change hardly registers.

  Dark thoughts get a little easier to dismiss when I walk through the taller grass. It rustles as I move through it, bending and bowing for me. Why can’t life be that easy? The sounds around me are anchors, holding me tightly to this world. The rustling of the grass, the thunder in the distance, and the crunch of the occasional interruption of sticks and rocks among the greenery; they all pull me into the moment, away from the harsh, bloody reality that would subdue me if I allowed myself to dwell now.

  My walk transitions into a full run as I cut through the woods. A wolf in this part of Maryland would raise more than a few eyebrows. It’s best to remain unseen. The forest is my escape once more, just like that first turn, which both haunts and thrills me. There’s as much beauty as there is danger to what I am, and Grandma’s death will forever cement the severity of what I am in my mind.

  By the time I reach Uncle Carl’s workshop, the parking lot is full with everyone else already there. I shift back and open the plastic tub that Uncle Carl keeps outside for unplanned shifts, such as this. An over-sized gray hoodie is all that remains, so it will have to do. I slip it on, thankful it fits me almost like a dress, and roll up my sleeves.

  Taking a deep breath, I open the door. I don’t have time to take another before I am ambushed with questions. Nearly four dozen heads turn to face me, eyes wide with horror.

  My mother rushes to me. “Tala! Oh my God, are you okay? Do we need to call someone? An ambulance?” The mumble of the crowd echoes throughout the tall building.

  I shake my head, confused. “No?”

  Lizzy’s pleasant smile appears before my face. “Tala, are you okay?” she asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.

  I shrug her off. “I’m fine! Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

  “You’re covered in blood. It’s almost eight. No one’s been able to get a hold of you or Grandma. Where is she, anyway? Is she with you? Why are you just wearing a hoodie?”

  Everyone stares at me as I walk to the front of the room. “I need everyone’s attention,” I say, which is redundant, but that’s what Grandma usually said at these meetings. “Our alpha is dead.” I pause, allowing my announcement to sink in. There are gasps; some members of the family begin to cry, while others stare blankly at me. The few members of the pack who aren’t blood related to us still look like they’ve been slapped.

  “What happened?” Uncle Carl asks.

  I swallow before answering. “I was supposed to meet her at six to be briefed for today’s meeting. Since I’m her second, she said I needed to know ahead of time what she wanted to disclose to you all today. Unfortunately...” Breathing in, I collect myself, licking my dry lips before continuing, “…she was already dead by the time I got to her house.”

  I scan my gaze over my friends, my family, my pack. They are dumbfounded, staring at me in shock, desperate for answers. They need more, but I don’t know how much I can give. I have to hold it together, not think of my pain. The searing pain in my chest that is seeking to consume me. Ignore it. Push it down. Remain strong. They don’t need weakness. They need answers and a reason to continue on.

  I set my stance a little straighter, a little firmer, and raise my chin a little higher as I continue. Matter-of-factly: that is the goal. Give them the facts, Tala. Continuing, I speak as evenly as I can, “Her house had been broken into, and she was clearly attacked by another werewolf. Since the full moon is tomorrow, her attacker could only have been a natural born wolf, not one who was turned since turned wolves can only shift during the full moon. They tried to cover their tracks by setting fire to the house through the kitchen. I arrived in enough time to see the damage, but not to stop it. Altering local authorities at this point will only raise unnecessary questions. Officially, we know nothing. We will all be shocked when we learn that she died in a house fire.” I say the last part firmly and pause to let them know that it’s an order, however politely stated. When they start to nod, I continue.

  “As a few of you may know, a new pack has entered our territory. They have made it clear they are here to challenge us. Until now, we have never had a rival pack. They have ambushed a younger one of our members, instigated a fight in a bar, and I can only assume that they are responsible for the attack on Raina Ward. While she did not get a chance to disclose all the details that she wanted with me, tonight’s meeting was regarding that pack. They are dangerous to everyone in the pack and those connected to us. They have us at a disadvantage. They clearly know us, but any knowledge we had of them died with our alpha. Like many of you, I grew up under her guidance, but we do not have time to mourn.” I pause, forcing my face to remain still. My throat feels like it is closing in. Push it down. My nostrils flare from the effort it takes to hold back tears, to keep my face from reddening and my voice even. Push it down. I swallow before speaking louder, my voice gradually rising as I continue, “They are coming for us. We must defend what is ours, unless we want them to rip it all away from us, violently and without mercy. We will avenge our alpha and make it clear that anyone who harms or threatens what is ours will be eliminated! Swiftly!”

  The pack begins to howl. Still, some of my human relatives look concerned, so I shift the conversation to that of defense. We begin to break down patrols. I delegate, but it’s difficult. Being in the middle of nowhere means there is a ton of ground to cover. We decide to tighten our perimeter to encompass only the pack’s and family’s residences. Most of us live fairly close to each other, so that makes the job a bit easier.

  “What about tomorrow?” Celest, a pack member outside of the family, asks.

  “What about it?” I respond with a question.

  “With our alpha…gone, who’s going to lead the pack during the change?” That’s a legitimate question, one I honestly hadn’t considered addressing, but the pack quickly begins discussing the options.

  “What’s the procedure for all this?” Ray asks no one in particular.

  Lizzy with her recent PhD in anthropologic mythology or something quickly answers, “Some older traditions dictate that upon the death of an alpha, any pack member may claim the role of alpha. However, this practice usually resulted in competitions, such as blood trials, that weakened the pack as a whole which is why most packs no longer follow that tradition.” Ricky glares at her. I hear him mumble something about know-it-alls under his breath, so I know she heard him. Lizzy smiles in his direction as the conversation continues.


  Norman, an older wolf outside of the family, responds. “Tala was Raina’s second; that makes her alpha. She’ll lead us.”

  Uncle Carl rubs his eyes with one hand, before sighing and saying, “Now, wait a second.” Shit. “I know my mother may have intended that. It has been clear for years that she was grooming Tala to be alpha, but I don’t think my mother intended t-to die so early. I mean no offense, Tala. I think you’d make an excellent alpha— someday. In the meantime, don’t you all think we should have someone a little older, maybe with more life experience, to lead us?”

  Different members of the pack begin whispering to each other, some of them questioning my ability, while others defend my constitution, but it’s Ray who actually speaks up. “We don’t need to figure everything out tonight. Tala can lead us during tomorrow’s turn, and we’ll figure out the alpha at a later date.”

  “Does that work for everyone?” I ask. A few people nod, but no one objects. That’s good enough for me.

  The business part of the meeting complete, most people immediately turn to leave. A few linger to talk, reminisce, or trade stories. But they are the members of the pack who were not close to Grandma. Most of them scurry away, fleeing at the opportunity to be gone. My mother approaches me, tears in her eyes. She tells me she’s taking Michael home, to try to rest. She says she won’t and to call her if I need to. But nothing really sinks in. As soon as she speaks, her words fade like distant echoes. She asks if I need anything, a ride? I say I’m fine, and she leaves.

  I want to disappear, away from everyone, but I can’t move. I’m stuck staring ahead as the people around me move. I feel nothing. I should go home. I need to be in bed. Then I remember that I ran here. I manage to catch Mel as she’s walking out the front door. She stops abruptly as I call her name. “Do you mind giving me a ride home?” I ask.

  Mel’s eyes are slightly sunken; she looks tired. How did I not notice before? I consider asking someone else, but at this point, there are few options: a couple of pack members, who are still mid-conversation, and Uncle Carl. I’m not up for waiting for the pack members to finish, and after the meeting, I’m not sure I want to be alone with my uncle. I’ve managed to hold myself together through the meeting, but I can feel myself getting close to the edge; much longer and I won’t be able to hold it together. Push it down.

  Mel gives me a polite smile. “Sure.”

  I follow her out to her Toyota, and we sit in silence as she drives. By this point, it’s late, nearly eleven, raining, and foggy. The rain falls so quickly her wipers barely have time to swipe the windshield clean before it’s obscured completely again. Thanks to the fog, high beams are of no help and only make it worse. Mel gradually slows the car before pulling over on the side of the road and turning on her flashers.

  “Can’t see well enough to drive,” she says, almost apologetically. “Might as well wait.”

  I nod. “Not a problem.”

  The rain falls harder, drowning out the sound of our breathing. Lightning strikes in the distance, illuminating the sky for only a second, as the thunder rolls with it in synchronization.

  “How can you just sit there like that?” Mel asks, her voice thick with emotion.

  “What?” I ask, not sure what she’s referring to.

  She misunderstands and repeats herself, but louder. “I said, ‘How can you just there like that?’”

  “I heard you,” I say. “What do you mean?” I meet Mel’s gaze in the darkness. The small lights on the dashboard reflect off her eyes, which slowly fill with tears.

  Mel sniffles. “How can you sit there covered in her blood?”

  I look down at my arms and take in the smeared streaks of red. That’s the second time this evening I’ve forgotten. I realize I haven’t even washed my hands. No wonder Uncle Carl spoke up; I probably look insane. “I-I just…I just knew I had a job to do, and I needed to get it done,” I say, nodding, and I continue to nod until I am shaking and tears are streaking my face.

  Mel sobs and sniffs her tear-fueled nasal drip. “I was so mean to her!” Mel cries, which takes the breath from me. I had an opportunity to forgive Grandma. She tried. She actually tried to apologize to me, and I wouldn’t even give her that. Mel puts her face in her hands, and her sobs begin to rock her frame. I lean in, pulling her close, hugging her tightly while trying to hold together my own violent sobs that are eager to escape. My chest feels like it’s going to explode, like something is pushing against the lower part of my sternum. I hold my breath as Mel quakes against me. I can’t allow more than silent tears. Not right now. Push it down.

  My tears fall without permission, but I keep my face still and hold together my form. Mel weeps loudly before settling into the periodic sniffle. Finally, she sits up. “I’m sorry,” she says. Before I can really ask why she would apologize for crying, she goes on to explain. “I shouldn’t have a right to cry. I wasn’t close to her. She got on my nerves most of the time, and if I’m being honest, I appreciated her about as much as she did me…I hope you don’t hate me. I know you two were close.” She laughs without any humor and tosses a hand in the air. “And here you are comforting me! You should hate me.”

  I offer her the best smile I can. “You don’t have to be sorry. She’s— she was your grandmother too.” The truth is, I get why she’s as upset as she is. What she’s feeling is years of regret and loathing. Whether her animosity toward Grandma was justified or not, she can’t help but look back and think of the what-if’s. What if things had gone differently? I know she feels this because I feel the same way. The most prominent memories I have of Grandma right now are most negative of reflections, or the positive ones are distortions of a memory, which lead to a shadow left over of a relationship taken for granted. No, I don’t hate Mel. I hate myself. Having that one blemish on my relationship with Grandma, especially at the end, doesn’t leave a scar. I never understood mourning to this extent. This guilt riddled pain added to it is nearly more than I can bear. Loss is much worse than it’s portrayed in films. The pain is far worse, consuming even. It’s not a lash; it’s not something horrible that’s been added. It’s a swirling vortex, a vacuum, pulling at my chest, devouring the good, and drawing the very breath from my lungs. I can’t imagine coming back from this. How can I? No solution seems simple. It’s more than putting a band-aid over a wound. Even after removing a vacuum; it’s still taken something away, something I can never get back.

  “I’m sorry,” Mel repeats. Her brows are knitted together as she presents a sad smile. “The truth is I feel guilty.” Me, too. “I’ve had some other stuff going on, and…I don’t know. I guess it’s just a lot at once.”

  I nod. “I don’t mind if you want to talk about it.”

  Mel smiles, genuinely this time, albeit, slightly amused. “You really don’t give yourself enough credit, Tala. You’re really not the asshole you think you are.” Part of me needed to hear that; but the other part feels like I’ve been stabbed. I don’t deserve that. But she doesn’t know the full story.

  I deflect. “Are we going to talk about me or are you going to spill?”

  Mel shakes her head. “Well, I had this guy that I’d been seeing. His name is Aaron. One of my tires popped on my way to work. He was the only one to stop and help. We exchanged numbers and really hit it off. He was really sweet; a great listener. Then...” She shrugs. “I don’t know. He just ghosted me. After six months. We had sex and then he ghosted me. I told Ricky about him. That’s how serious it— how serious I thought it was.” She scoffs. “I was even about to tell you. That was the last step. Get approval from Tala. If you liked him, I’d keep ‘im. I had put it off because I was nervous. If you didn’t like him, I knew it wasn’t meant to be. I had really hoped you would…” She sighs. “But I never got that chance. I guess he showed me who he was anyway.”

  I rub her arm. “Hey, you can’t beat yourself up for having a heart,” I say. I’m also slightly relieved her reasoning for not telling me about this asshole wasn’t what
I originally thought. I also kind of want to beat his ass, but I know that’s not what Mel needs to hear right now. Aaron… I hold back a snort. What a douchey name.

  With the rain easing, Mel turns off her flashers, and we continue our ride. By the time she drops me off, it’s a little after midnight. I tell Mel to be careful and remind her to lock her door when she gets home. She waves goodnight, not pulling away until she sees me enter my apartment. Once I’m on the other side of my door, alone in the sanctuary of my apartment, my resolve shatters. I lock the door and tear off the damned hood before realizing my hands are still stained with my grandmother’s blood. I march to the bathroom, turn on the shower, and jump in before it is even hot. The cold water sends goosebumps over my body, hardens my nipples, and I can’t help but hug myself, either for warmth or support. Slowly the water gets hot then scalding, but I don’t move. Beneath me, red water circles the drain, slowly turning pink then clear. But the skin around my nails still contains evidence of my grief. I soap down my hands, scrubbing harder than necessary, until I am certain no part of her remains. I sit down, letting the water purify me. I can’t push it down. Not anymore. Slowly, the water turns cold again as I shed burning tears too violent for any to witness. Finally, after I-don’t-know-how-much time, I get out and throw on some comfy clothes and welcome the peaceful abyss of sleep.

  Chapter 6

  It’s early when I awake. There’s some sort of bass pounding. I stretch out and roll over, hugging my pillow close to me. The pounding stops, and my body starts to relax again. But the pounding soon resumes. What the hell? It’s then I realize there’s someone at my door. I blink, and as the events from the previous night begin rushing back, I struggle against the wave of emotions that wash over me. I want nothing more than to stay in the warm and comforting embrace of my bed. But the pounding continues.