by Alex Stone
“Me too,” I say nodding before anxiously looking at the door.”
“Well, go on,” Lizzy says. “Get out of here. We’ll be fine.”
“Thanks,” I answer, squeezing her in a quick hug, before I jog out to my car.
When I get to my mother’s, she is waiting on the front steps. She stands as I pull up and runs to me, arms outstretched as I get out of my car. She pulls me into a tight embrace. “It took everything in me not to call the police,” she says into my hair.
I hug her back. “That was a good call.”
She pulls away. “I didn’t touch anything, just in case, but you can tell— he didn’t run away,” she insists as we walk through the front door.
“The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind,” I say to her in assurance, but for a fleeting moment, the thought now does cross my mind. What if he really did just run away? He’s fourteen and going through an unusual number of traumatic events. What if he just wanted to get away? As a teenager, I occasionally felt the need to do the same. But this is Michael. Michael wouldn’t run away without saying something first.
And as I enter his bedroom, my last thoughts are supported. A knocked over and shattered lamp, a rug partially flipped over, and the strong scent of wolves quickly dismiss any questions about whether or not Michael was kidnapped. The window across from his bed and by his desk is open, and Michael’s school supplies look like they have been thrown— or pushed— onto the floor.
“I made sure not to move anything,” my mother says from the doorway.
I nod my head. “Good call,” I say as I circulate the room, trying to look for any sign of where they may have taken him. Yeah, sure, Tala, because they definitely would’ve accidentally dropped some slip of paper with their address on it that you’ll conveniently find on the floor. Real life isn’t that easy. And I’m not a detective or private investigator. I know wolves were here, and there are definitely signs of a struggle, but I’m not a professional or miracle worker. But damn if I wish I were.
With a sigh, I turn to my mom and say, “Wolves definitely took him. It’s got to be Totius.” When she gives me a confused look, I add, “The rival pack, but I’m going to have to leave to get more answers. Whatever you do, don’t call the police.”
“I know they can’t help,” she responds, sounding a little annoyed. She rubs her forehead. “Just bring him home,” she says, her voice breaking at the end. “And, please, be careful.”
“I will, Mom. I promise.”
Mom’s expression is woeful, but I know there is nothing I can do to fix this until I bring Michael back. Alive. “I’ll take care of this,” I say, but whether I am trying to convince her or myself, I am unsure. I step out the back door and pull out my phone to call Ricky, quickly catching him up to speed on the situation.
“Well, shit,” he says when I’ve finished. “Tala, why didn’ you call me sooner?”
I shrug subconsciously then cringe before I respond— because he can’t fucking see me— “I don’t know,” I say. “I guess part of me was hoping I could handle it on my own.” It sounds ridiculous as soon as the words leave my mouth. I groan and rub my tired eyes. Unable to stop myself, I wonder when fate will stop laughing at me and my family. “I think we need to take another jab at questioning Dante.”
“Who?”
I can’t help but smile, “The guy that’s locked in Uncle Carl’s basement?”
“Oh, yeah.”
I chuckle despite myself. “I was hoping that would ring a few bells.”
“Want me to meet you there?”
I almost say yes, but the truth is I am more terrified than I have ever been. “Could you meet me at my mom’s?” I ask. I leave the last part unsaid: I’m not sure I can trust myself to question Dante on my own if his pack really is responsible for taking Michael…or worse.
Ricky’s voice softens. “O’ course, darlin’,” he says. “I’ll be there in a bit.” And, of course, he would. His sister just went through hell. Sure, it’s not the same thing, but he gets the protecting-one’s-singling thing.
“Thank you,” I say, trying not to disclose the fact that I am half a second from bursting into tears at the gesture. I really am losing it.
“Mmm-hmm,” he answers. “See ya’ in a bit.” He hangs up, and I sniffle before making my next call.
“Hey, Celest? It’s Tala…”
Despite living twice as far away from her, Ricky gets to my mother’s before Celest, but she isn’t too far behind him and pulls in five minutes later as I am giving my mother instructions.
“—and make sure that you lock the windows, too— it won’t keep them out, but it could buy you time or make it easier to hear them. And don’t forget to—”
“Tala,” Mom says, giving me a pointed look. “I know you’re a big girl now and in charge of several strong wolves, but I’ve been around for a while, too. I’ll be fine, especially since you seem to have a personal guard-dog—” She immediately cringes, before adding “Sorry,” to Celest. “My point is that I have more than enough to keep me safe.”
“Okay…” I say
She locks her arms around me in a tight embrace before releasing me. “I’ll be fine. And, if anything, I have my twelve-gauge.” Because that makes me feel so much better, but I smile and hug her again. “I love you, honey,” she says.
“I love you, too.”
“I’ll watch your mom,” Celest reassures me.
“You better,” I only half-jokingly warn.
I hop in Ricky’s rust bucket, and he starts the ignition. I’ve never felt so uncertain about anything. We know Totius had to have taken Michael, but we have nothing else to go on. Dante is our only connection. Still, what if we get the information we need out of Dante, and his alpha kills Michael out of spite? Or what if he’s already dead? A flash of an image plays at the edge of my mind: Michael in a cherry coffin. A second the image comes to mind; it disappears into smoke. It had to have been part of my dream. Nightmare. Still, the image is seared into my mind, causing an overwhelming shudder to run through my body.
“Sorry,” Ricky says, not understanding, and he turns up the heat.
If anyone were to hurt Michael, I’d never forgive myself. I should have hidden him away the second I realized he was a wolf, no, the second he was targeted.
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to focus on something else. I’ll drive myself crazy if I keep thinking about “what-ifs” and “should-haves.” But my next thoughts aren’t any more comforting. It’s Friday, and I, Grandma’s executor, still haven’t done a damn thing for her funeral arrangements. We can’t have a viewing, anyway, I realize, then sigh for the millionth time this week. I have to take care of the living first.
When the rust bucket finally brings us to Uncle Carl’s, it’s nine o’clock.
“Uncle Carl’s Jeep is here,” Ricky observes as we exit his truck.
“Good,” I respond before adding, “Maybe he can help us.”
“’Course he can,” Ricky says positively as we ascend the front steps. Ricky opens the large glass door before knocking on the main one. I smile, more nervous than anything. Stay positive, I tell myself, repeating it in my mind like a mantra. Stay positive. We stand on the front steps in silence for a few minutes.
“Maybe this’ll help,” I say, ringing the doorbell. Immediately, I hear Lady start barking in the distance, but she eventually loses interest in the noise. I give Ricky a wide-eyed, concerned look before ringing the doorbell a second time. When no one answers or comes to the door after thirty seconds, I open the door. “Uncle Carl?”
“Maybe he’s out in the workshop?” Ricky wonders.
I nod. “Maybe…” I walk through the house, still hoping to run into him. Something seems…off. I raise my voice so Ricky can hear me as I investigate. “It’s not like him. When he’s here, he’s here,” I say. When Ricky doesn’t respond right away, I project my voice, adding “You know what I mean?” My anxiety mounts, but I tell myself that everything
is fine. I’m paranoid, as usual. But Ricky still doesn’t respond.
I hear a booming thud, like a rough fall. “Ricky?” I shout, concerned, before turning to go back to the front of the house. Before I’ve made a full rotation, I’m slammed in the back of the head with a heavy, blunt force.
I blink, seeing stars, and look up to see a concerned set of dark brown eyes on a comforting face. I’m on my back? Aunt Angie sighs in relief. “She’s all right,” she says to someone on her right. I turn to see Ricky sitting on the counter and holding a steak to his forehead.
“Help her up,” she adds in her impatient mom voice. Ricky quickly jumps to do as she commands, grabbing my wrist and helping me to my feet. “I’d do it, but I’m old,” Aunt Angie says. “This old back would break if I tried to lift you, honey— take it slowly,” she adds as I catch myself on the counter. I’m surprised at how dizzy I am. They had to have hit me hard to knock me out in one hit. God knows, Tala Ward can take a hit.
I rub my eyes then the back of my head, wincing as my fingers brush the lump that has already formed. “How long was I out?” I ask.
Aunt Angie shrugs before turning to Ricky. “What time did y’all get here?”
“‘Round nine.”
Aunt Angie’s eyes briefly go wide. “Well, it’s past two. I’m glad I decided to take a short day. Do you happen to know where my husband is?”
I shake my head. “We were looking for him when we got here. We saw his Jeep, but he didn’t answer the door. We started to worry and just came in.” Abruptly, Ricky strides out of the kitchen. I hear his quick-paced footfalls as he descends the basement stairs before returning. I know what he’s going to say before he speaks, but I still groan when he says, “He’s gone. The Totius second is gone.” Fuck. Aunt Angie leans against the counter silently. We all know what this looks like. I put my hand to my chest and try to take in a calm breath, only to gasp.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, the concern in her voice mounting.
“My necklace— it’s gone.” When neither of them seems to understand, I explain, “Grandma left it to me in a safe deposit box. One of the members of Totius— the other pack—” I give Ricky a knowing look, hoping he knows whom I am referencing, and he subtly nods. “—said Grandma had stolen two things from their alpha: his legacy and his talisman. Grandma called the necklace a talisman, as well. The last time I changed…”
“—It was instant,” Ricky finishes for me when I can’t seem to find the words.
“Yeah, and now they have it. I don’t know what else it does.”
Aunt Angie nods. “So, you don’t know why they want it— I’m calling Ray,” she adds distraughtly before going into the other room, but Ricky calls after her. “Don’t go upstairs until we have searched the house!”
He and I sweep through the first floor before tackling the second. We’re finishing in the home gym when I sit down. “Nothing,” I finally say. “I know I should be relieved, but they got what they wanted. And we’re still no closer to knowing where they’ve taken Michael, and now they’ve got Uncle Carl, too.”
“We’ll find ‘em,” Ricky says, sitting next to me.
“They’re picking us off, one by one,” I say. At this rate, we’re all dead. They have us like rats in a maze, and the joke is there is no cheese, so we’re wandering around aimlessly and frantically.
We both jolt to our feet when we hear the front door slam open.
“Mom?” But it’s only Ray. We exit the gym and are at the top of the stairs to see him pull his mother in closely.
Aunt Angie pulls back to put her hands on both sides of Ray’s face. “Thank goodness you’re okay!” she gushes. “I don’t know what I’d do if—” she pulls him back to her.
“It’s okay, Mama, I’m here,” he says, patting his mother’s back. He sees us and jumps back. “Tala?”
“Yeah?” I say, quickly jogging down the stairs.
“Did you see this?” he asks, holding out an envelope I only now notice.
I take it and see that my name is scrawled on the front. “No. Where’d you find it?”
“It was in the glass door.”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t there when we got here,” I say.
Aunt Angie’s face blanches. “They were here again,” she chokes.
I tear the envelope open, scanning through it quickly. It’s typed, and not very detailed, but after having read it myself, I begin to read it aloud:
“‘Both Michael and Carl are safe. You’ll find your answers at the Woodsmith Warehouse tonight by 7:00. Address is enclosed.’”
I look up, and no one says anything until Ricky says, “Must be a trap,” matter-of-factly. That much is obvious, but I don’t voice those thoughts.
“We have to do something,” I respond. “Trap or not, they’ve taken two members of our pack hostage.”
“An’ they’ve already killed one of us, our alpha,” Ricky counters. “You sure it’s a great idea to roll on up there?”
“I’m going with you,” Ray chimes in.
“You most certainly are not!” Aunt Angie bellows. “I will not have my husband and my only chil’—”
Ray silences her by taking both of her hands in his. “Mother, I love you, and you know that I respect you—”
“Don’t you give me that, Raymond. In my house—”
“Mother, I’m a grown man. I haven’t lived here in over a decade—” Aunt Angie cuts him a glare that only a mother can give. Ray straightens “But that’s beside the point. I’ll be fine. We’ll call for backup—” he looks up, or rather down, at us for help.
“Yeah, I’m callin’ now,” Ricky adds, getting his phone out and walking into the living room.
I nod, as well, and start sending mass messages to the pack, providing information on the current situation. Deciding to delegate more, I tell them to communicate with Ricky their whereabouts.
“I will be fine,” Ray repeats to reassure her. “But I can’t let everyone else put themselves in danger when it’s my father out there.”
Aunt Angie gives her son a skeptical look, before saying sternly. “You’re my only baby—”
“I know.”
“And there sure won’t be anymore.”
“I know.”
“So, you better come back, or else, I’ll kill you myself,” she threatens.
Ray chuckles, “I know. I will.”
“Okay,” she says slowly. “Gimme another hug.”
Carlie, Ashton, and Austin arrive a little later. The twins elect to stay and look after Aunt Angie.
Ricky gets everyone’s attention. “The others are over an hour away or already guarding. Those who can, will meet us at the warehouse directly. With arms.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I suppose there is no need to prolong the inevitable?”
Ray nods, “Now or never?” Aunt Angie pulls him into one last tight hug, before Carlie, Ray, Ricky, and I leave in Carlie’s car.
It’s over two hours before we arrive at the address listed in the ominous letter. At first, we aren’t sure the GPS has directed us to the right location. The main building appears abandoned. Most of the buildings are built from wood which appears rotted and unfit for any human occupation. Then again, we aren’t human.
“Are you all ready?” I ask. They all nod, but we wait a moment, bracing ourselves. There is little time to stop and think, though, it’s nearly seven already. I take a breath as we exit the car. The moon, now high, casts long shadows on the paved lot. Weeds have broken through the pavement cracks. As we approach the main building, a small light becomes visible, and I hear hushed voices. I look at my three cousins, hoping to draw courage from their presence.
Taking another breath, I open the door, ready for a fight, but I don’t see who I expect. Three wolves stand guard, one of whom is our former prisoner, Dante. An elderly man sits in a cushioned chair at the far end of the room, like a pauper’s throne. I immediately identify him as Nathaniel, not just from the way the Tot
ius wolves stand around him, but he wears my grandmother’s talisman which gleams even in the dim overhead lights.
But my astonishment is at the man sitting beside him. Casually sitting next to him, relaxed and laughing is my uncle. That can’t be right.
“Dad?” Ray asks, stepping forward. My throat seems to close; my mouth drops, unbidden. It’s him. Uncle Carl.
Uncle Carl turns, almost startled to see us. “Ray!” he says. “And Tala, I’m so glad you’re here!” He’s fine. Not kidnapped, but here of his own volition. A numbness spreads through my body. This is one betrayal I didn’t see coming.
Chapter 14
“Where’s Michael?” I demand, ignoring Carl’s annoyingly polite greeting. I’m not sure if he has been working with Totius the whole time or if this is new. He may be family, but right now, he sure as hell looks like the enemy.
“I’m sorry, Tala. I didn’t mean to worry you. Michael’s home safely with your mother.” I give him an apprehensive look. I want him to understand the level of trust he has lost.
“You don’t believe me,” he states as a fact, but he sounds almost hurt. “Call her. Call your mother and ask her. Go on.”
The room is silent as I select my mother’s contact in my phone. Her phone rings, and rings. I’m waiting for a member of Totius to answer, but it is my mother who actually picks up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mom. It’s Tala,” I say, but I know she has caller ID. “Is Michael home?”
“Yes! Oh my goodness! Did no one tell you?” she prattles on. “I am so sorry! I thought you knew. Apparently, he had been with Carl and a few other wolves. Some sort of rough rite of passage with the guys, I guess. Gave me such a scare! But he’s fine. I let my brother have it for not telling me what was going on. Oh, I hope you didn’t put yourself through too much trouble trying to find him.”
“No,” I say calmly. “I didn’t. Have a good evening, Mom.”
“You, too, honey. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I respond in turn, but I’m glaring at Uncle Carl while I speak and put my phone away. “I still don’t like this,” I say directly to him. “Why the hell are you working with them?”