by Alex Stone
Groggily, I stand, slowly walking to the door before realizing that I am in sweatpants and a bralette. “Just a minute,” I shout to whoever it is. I open my second drawer and throw on a random graphic tee before stumbling my way to the front door. I undo the deadbolt, and when I open the door, I am surprised to see two officers. They look solemn. No. They can’t be here to—
“Are you Tala Ward?” the tall one asks.
I nod. “Yeah, I am,” I say, mouth dry from both exhaustion and the lack of fluids in my body.
“May we come in?” the other officer asks.
“What’s going on?” I ask, eager to get this over with.
The two share a look. “We are afraid that your grandmother, Raina Ward, has been in an accident. You were listed as her emergency contact.”
I swallow. My body prepares to repeat its actions from the previous night. “An accident? Is-is she okay? Was she driving in the rain?” Even as I speak the words, knowing they are complete bullshit, I can’t help but hope they will confirm that last night was just an awful dream. That, sure, she was in an accident— an actual accident, in her car— but that she’s fine now. Under different circumstances, I’d probably even be proud of how genuine I seem, of how well I lie through my teeth, but I know, for part of me, this is genuine. Genuine, naïve hope.
“No,” the officer says. “There was a fire. It seems to have been caused by the stove. We think she may have left it on, but unfortunately, she died last night.”
And there is it. The harsh reality once more brought to light. It wasn’t a nightmare. She’s dead. Dead. I begin to choke, and I brace myself against the doorframe for support as I begin to lose feeling in my legs.
“Is there anything we can do?”
I shake my head numbly. “No…no, you can go,” I say. One of them hands me a card, says sorry for my loss, and they leave. For a few minutes, I stay in my doorway, gripping tightly to the doorframe, until I realize my knuckles hurt. I pull myself up grasping the doorframe, one hand over another, like I am climbing, before I release my grip. Flexing my hands, I re-enter the house. I text my mom, letting her know we have officially been notified of Grandma’s accident and can begin our “public” mourning process. I don’t feel like calling her just yet. She’ll want to cry and comfort me, and I’m not ready for that.
As fucked up as it sounds, I have more important things to worry about, like finding out why the hell they did this and stopping them from killing anyone else I love. And shit! I still have to get a hold of Ricky and get my car back from the mall. I try to call him, but there’s no answer. I don’t bother leaving a voicemail. Ricky’s under twenty-five, so he wouldn’t listen to it anyway. I’m a little frustrated. I know I shouldn’t be, but I have to start preparing for the full moon. It’s that much more difficult for me to carry out my duties if it’ll take me three hours to get anywhere. With the other wolves being in the area, we have to be ready. We all change together with the strongest wolves guiding us; one leads from the front, showing us where to run and hunt, while the other “leads” from the back, ensuring no one in our group gets left behind. We need to be in a formation that will allow us to defend our elderly while being able to hit back if necessary. This strategy taught me not only how to defend our pack, but it showed me that leading doesn’t always mean being front and center. Good leaders can adapt and aren't afraid to follow or put the welfare of others first. Grandma and I usually swap between the front and back on the line…but it’s just me this time. I need to decide who will be my second tonight.
I consider Lizzy; she’s smart, looks after others, but she’s also high strung and not great with criticism. Ray’s my bud, but he can be too passive, as he’s often too concerned with hurting people’s feelings, rather than getting things done. Ricky can easily adapt and is assertive, but he’s also, well, Ricky. Most of my other cousins…I’d trust them to aid me in a fight, but I wouldn’t trust their ability to lead, so can’t really consider them at this point. Uncle Evan has had a drinking problem for the last eight years, since his wife died, so he’s not an option. Aunt Darla’s quiet, and Uncle Ricardo has made it clear that he never wants to be in that position. The pack members that aren’t directly related to us are either elderly or too young to know their asses from a hole in the ground.
As much as it hurts my pride and may be counterproductive if I ever to want to be alpha, Uncle Carl is probably my best option. He is smart, resourceful, and he has dedicated more time to the pack than most people give him credit for. If last night was any indication, even if it does have me a little butt hurt, he isn’t afraid to hurt people’s feelings if he feels he is doing what is best for the pack.
I stop and stare at my phone, trying to work myself up to this phone call. My cheeks are already hot with shame. I don’t like asking for help, especially from the guy who questioned my ability in a very public way, but I know this is for the best. Be objective, Tala.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I select Uncle Carl’s contact and hit the call button. The other line begins to ring, and I feel myself growing more anxious with each additional ring. I do not want to have this conversation. Pack first, Tala. Pack first. But this would be so much easier if I didn’t feel threatened by him. After the fifth ring, I consider hanging up. It’s got to go to voicemail soon. Please go to voicemail. I could say I tried and be off the hook.
“Hello? Tala?” My heart nearly stops when he answers, causing me to delay in my answer.
“Yeah, it’s me. I—” I was going to say ‘have a favor to ask,’ but I quickly reconsider. I don’t want him to feel like I need him or that I really am incapable. “—I was thinking about who I would have serve as my second tonight. After carefully considering everyone, I think you would make the best fit.” I pause, waiting for him to respond in some way, hoping to gauge whether he’ll be a dick about it.
He seems taken aback, “Well—I-I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to ask me. I’d be honored. Thank you, Tala. About last night—” Oh God. I tense, just dreading where this could go. “—I hope you don’t feel like I meant it as an insult. You’ve always worked hard and put the pack first.” I really have. I’m nodding even though he can’t see me. I want to smile, but I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I can see you’re still doing that in asking me for help—” and there it is! Damn it! “You’re stubborn, and like many wolves, prideful; you don’t like to be wrong or admit when you are. You can’t help but act on your emotions, but part of that you get honestly and the rest is probably a matter of being young and dumb.” My mouth drops. Is he fucking serious? Just when I feel myself preparing to go off, he continues “—but that’s what a good leader does, recognizes their areas of weakness and uses the strength of the pack to compensate... You’re a lot like your grandmother.” I hold my breath. “I always loved my mom. Her stubbornness was what the pack needed, but she was stubborn to a fault. You know that your grandmother was never great at asking for help. I see a lot of you in her, but I’m glad you know when to reach out.” I hear him choke, and I release the breath I had been holding. Is he crying? Uncle Carl? Crying?
“Thanks, Uncle Carl,” I say swallowing an imaginary lump in my throat. “It means a lot.”
I hear him sniffle, “Yeah, well, I meant every word of it— even the young and dumb part.” He chuckles. Uncle Carl and I haven’t ever been super close. I’m closer to his wife than I have ever been to him. If anyone else had called me that…I’d probably prove them right by punching them in the face. I think I understand him a little better than before. Much like me, and Grandma, he’s stubborn and blunt as hell, but he cares. I kind of thought he was just a rich asshole, which he is, but he’s a rich asshole with a heart.
“I look forward to leading with you tonight,” I say.
“Me too,” he replies.
The silence is now a little awkward, so I say “Bye,” and we both hang up. Just as I’m about to put my phone down, it starts going off. It’s Ricky, calling me
back. “Hey,” I say. “I tried calling you earlier about—”
“Yer car?” Ricky asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “You said you had a friend who worked in a shop?”
Ricky chuckles. “Don’ you worry ‘bout that right now.”
“Ricky, I have to have my car, especially with the full—”
He full on laughs, “Girl, don’ you know I’ve already taken care of it? Bobby drove me to the mall, and we put them tires on yer car. I’m on my way to your house now. You gotta’ give me a ride home, though, but I figur’d you wouldn’ mind that, considerin’.”
My eyes begin to tear up. I’m surprised and grateful and in disbelief. “Ricky, I don’t know what to sa—”
“Don’ get all sappy on me now. We’ve all been through hell, and I told ya’ that I’ve got you, cuz. I’ll be there in a bit, and you best be in ass-kickin’ shape, a’ight?”
I can’t help but laugh through the snot and tears. “Okay, I will,” I say before hanging up. I quickly swap out my sweats for a pair of jeans that are lying on my floor. It’s then I see the hoodie I had worn yesterday. I don’t want to fuck with it right now, but I have to. I take the blood-stained shirt to the kitchen and throw it in my empty sink. I turn off my fire alarm before grabbing a lighter and burning the hoodie. I have to catch it a few times to burn it all until it is unrecognizable. I toss what remains into the trash and rinse out my sink.
I decide it’s a ponytail kind of day and secure my hair back in a scrunchie. I don’t dress up often, anyway. Since today is a full moon, we’ll be walking, so I get a thick pair of socks and pull on my hiking boots. Good enough.
My stomach growls, letting me know I am about as hungry as the wolf, and I chuckle at my own private joke. Such as knee-slapper! My fridge isn’t as stocked as I would like it to be. I start counting back in my head and realize I haven’t been to the grocery store in over two weeks. Scrambled eggs then. There’re five eggs left in my carton, but I figure if I throw some bread in the toaster, I might have enough for both me and Ricky. Even if he’s already eaten, I am sure he could do so again. When Ricky pulls up, I am just turning the stove off and grabbing the Tapatío. I only know it’s him because I’d recognize the hum of my own car anywhere. I open the door before he can bang on it and wake my neighbors.
He doesn’t even say ‘hi,’ just steps past me and says in awe, “You made eggs.” It’s not a question. He walks into my kitchen as if in a trance. “Where’re the plates?”
“Top shelf of the cabinet left of the stove,” I say, then add, as he starts grabbing stuff, “Please, help yourself. I do insist.”
“Thanks,” he says, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the irony in my voice. I hand him some toast from the toaster, then serve myself eggs. We sit at the window bar that connects the kitchen to my tiny living room. The apartment isn’t large enough for a dining room or even a breakfast table, so two stools is all I get. The eggs are delicious, though my taste buds may be lying to me as a result of my hunger. I don’t care, if it’s a lie or not. I devour everything on my plate and race Ricky to the kitchen to get more.
When we’re both finished, he belches right next to me. “Rude,” I say, scrunching up my face in disgust and waving my hand to fan away the smell. “That stinks!” Ricky just shrugs and grins. I shake my head and roll my eyes. What a crude sonofabitch. I decide to cut him some slack. He’s really had my back the last couple of days. “What’s the plan?” I ask.
“Hmm?” he acts confused.
“You told me to be in ‘ass-kickin’ shape,’ so what’s the plan? Whose ass are we kicking?”
Ricky shrugs. “I meant in general,” he says before straightening his back and clearing his throat. “Ya’ got to be in gen-er-al ass kickin’ shape with other pack seekin’ to threatin’ us.”
I can’t tell if he straightened to make a point or if he is just screwing around and making a joke out of the situation. Not knowing how to read him, I nod slowly. “Okay…” He nods back at me. He looks more serious than I have ever seen him, which is ridiculous. “What do you propose we do about this other pack?”
Ricky grins before slapping his hands and rubbing them together. All seriousness gone that quickly. He wiggles his eyebrows, way too excited about this, as he says, “I am so glad you asked! I was thinkin’ we’d ambush ‘em tonight. Think about it; they can’t have anywhere near the numbers we have, so we hit ‘em hard and hit ‘em fast.”
“And how do you propose we do that, exactly?” I am skeptical, to say the least, but I need a solution, or at least a direction to go in. I know we have to buck up against this new pack. Hell, everyone knows that; it’s not a question. The question is how.
“Tonight, they’ll turn. We know that one of their strong hitters has to be a born wolf, not a turned one, since he was able to turn when it wasn’t a full moon, but if there was more than one born-wolf, they would’ve sent more against our alpha and you would’ve smelled—”
“So, we’re hitting them when they’re strong?”
“No— Well, yes, but that’s not the point. Since everyone turns during the full moon, we’ll get a real idea of their numbers. They won’t be able to hide from us. And if the chase lasts until morning, our people can still chase them as wolves while they’re turning back.”
“Ricky, I don’t know for sure that it was just one wolf that attacked Grandma.”
“But you had said it had to be a born wolf—”
“Yes, at least one born wolf since there wasn’t a full moon. But I was so focused on the blood and…” I look down and sigh before looking up apologetically. “I didn’t think at the time to actually stop and smell for different wolves. It could’ve been one or it could’ve been six.”
Ricky stares off at nothing in particular. I know I screwed up, but I can’t fix it. I just hope my lack of diligence hasn’t screwed us or given the other side an even greater advantage. Ricky exhales and shrugs. “They still can’t have our numbers. I say we still try with this plan. I know it’s good. I could lead one group.” Before I can cast doubt, he continues, “Remember that pack that came through three or four years ago?”
I nod and smile, amused. “Yeah, I was thinking about them the other day. What did they call themselves?
Ricky beams, “‘Rabble Pack.’”
“That’s right,” I respond.
“They were so shocked we not only had more than a dozen members, but nearly three times that, so our numbers aren’t common, Tala.”
“They were also shocked we hadn’t named our pack. We don’t operate the same way, and there’s so much we don’t know about other wolves. And this pack...I don’t know. The effort they are putting in to intimidate us, what they did to Grandma. It’s too much to not be personal, which means they know something we don’t, and that terrifies the shit out of me.” I usually don’t talk to Ricky like this. We haven’t been as close to each other as we are to the other cousins, not in years. But this is nice. It feels like we are picking back up where we left off as kids.
“‘Ave ya’ talked to Norman?” Ricky asks.
I shake my head. “I hadn’t thought of that. He did run with quite a few packs before joining ours.”
Ricky nods. “If you get a few drinks in ‘im, he can tell some wild stories! The cool— or scary— part is, they seem real. He could give some good information ‘bout other wolves.”
“Okay, I’ll look into that…and Ricky?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being here…I appreciate everything that you’ve done these last couple of days.”
“Anytime, cuz!” he smiles warmly, before leaning in for a hug which is so tight I am sure that he’ll snap my back in half. When he lets go, I do my best to hide that I need more air.
“Could you do me another favor?”
“Sure! What is it?”
“Could you look out for Michael tonight? I think there’s a good likelihood that he’ll turn, and if we do run in to the other pack,
I don’t want him to get hurt. You know new wolves are vulnerable…and he’s so young.”
“I gotchu. Don’t sweat it!”
“Thanks,” I say, collecting our dishes. “We should probably get going. I’ve got to prepare for tonight.”
Ricky nods. “Just watch your back. You were Grandma’s second, which means you’ll have a target on you until all this is sorted out. The last thing you want is your insides being torn out, too.”
My breathing stops. I nod carefully. “Yeah. Thank you.” I force a friendly smile, but inside I am suddenly on fire. How could he possibly know that? I never shared any of those details with anyone. Unless…I don’t want to think about it.
I swallow before taking the dishes to the sink. I lock up, and then Ricky and I make our way to my car. The drive is quiet. My heart pounds as I try to keep my system under enough control that Ricky doesn’t suspect I am on to him. From the corner of my eye, I can see him staring at me, sizing me up, and I can’t help the questions that race through my mind. Will he attack me tonight? How is he connected to the other pack? Or is the other pack even relevant? Did he kill our grandmother?
As we approach his house, Ricky interrupts my inner turmoil. “I’m sorry, cuz. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sure you’ll be fine. No one’ll come after you, not while I’ve got your back.”
I smile up at him, as he gets out of the car, “Thanks, Ricky. That really helps. I guess it’s just been rough.”
He nods. “Yes, it has,” he says. “Yes, it has.” As he closes the door, he leaves me to wonder if he’s the reason I need to watch my back.
Chapter 7