The Vampire, The Witch and the Werewolf: The Wolfe Pack

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The Vampire, The Witch and the Werewolf: The Wolfe Pack Page 2

by Louisa Bacio


  “It doesn’t have to be the end,” she said, as they broke apart. “It doesn’t have to be forever.”

  “Something tells me, though, that our relationship will never be the same again. We won’t be able to go back.” He brushed her hair away from her face, caressing the strands as if he were memorizing this moment. “And you’re going to change, which is fine. You’re young, and have a full life ahead of you. You should change. I just don’t know where that will leave us.”

  “I’ll forever love you.”

  “I know, and I you.” He gave her a chaste peck on the lips, and placed his hand on the door handle.

  She reached out, making a grab for his other arm. When he glanced back at her, tears glistened in his eyes. “It’ll be all right.”

  The shutting of the door took on a whole ’nother meaning: the shutting of her past, which meant that the future loomed wide open.

  The moment Nick stepped out of the truck and began to walk away, a sense of sadness overwhelmed Silver. They shared a bond that no one else would ever to be able to match. Not only had they grown up together in the human world, but both of them made their transformation to Others about the same time.

  He’d also gone through the transition from seeing Others—those in the paranormal world—as evil creatures who had to be killed, to beings as complex as humans. Sure, there were some bad elements to the group, rogue vampires who slaughtered innocents for blood sport and fun. But there also were good, kind undead like Lawrence and Nick. She hoped Nick stayed strong, and true to himself. Lawrence would keep him in line, and as she said, she’d be back. Eventually.

  She switched on the radio for company. The sound of Jason Mraz singing I Won’t Give Up greeted her ears. At that moment, the sky opened up and rain poured down on her. The universal connection and watching Nick tug his jacket over his head to shelter himself in her review mirror was her undoing. She braked. The red brake lights reflected on the wet pavement. He lifted one arm up and waved her on, not looking back. He kept walking.

  The tears flowed freely, blurring her vision, but she put her foot on the gas, and drove away from her past.

  The miles passed by uneventfully. Although the trip should have only taken less than five hours, which could be done in one stretch, she didn’t want to get to the forest in the middle of the night. The night would act as a transition for her, from one world to the next, and she could arrive in the brightness of day.

  From 10, she veered onto I-49. After a few hours, she found herself yawning, and considered her options for rest. She’d grown used to being up at night and sleeping during the daytime. But away from the wacky schedule of Pages and Nick’s nocturnal hours, there was no reason for her to keep it up. Signs indicated the next major city was Opelousas, and she took the exit ramp and checked into a motel for the evening.

  Inside the lodge, the décor resembled the same bright yellow of Nick’s truck. What was the universe trying to tell her? She set the alarm clock for a semi-regular time of eleven a.m.; might as well get herself on a normal schedule, and it would probably be better to travel during daytime hours, where she could better see the environment.

  She twisted and turned on the rough motel sheets. She wasn’t used to sleeping without someone there to hold her. Funny how quickly she’d grown used to Nick’s presence after a lifetime of sleeping alone. Well, at the home of her adopted family, she’d only had her own bedroom for the last few years; before that, she’d shared space with her younger sisters. As a teen, it had been decided she needed more privacy.

  With her eyes closed, all she pictured was Nick’s face as he shut the door. And his arm reaching up to wave her away when the rain came down. Finally, exhaustion won out, and she succumbed to slumber.

  * * * *

  With a groan, Silver sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her head pounded as if she’d tied one over the night before, yet she hadn’t had any alcohol at all. She padded into the bathroom and checked out the deep rings under her eyes. For once, she really looked as bad as she felt. That was what an hour’s worth of crying did to a person.

  She splashed water on her face, and forced a smile. More like a killing grin. She looked downright awful. If her biological father met her in this shape, he’d disown her outright. Who’d want to claim her as their long-lost relative anyway? She pushed the thought away. She didn’t need any additional self-doubts at the moment.

  Her rumbling stomach reminded her that no matter what happened later in the day, right here and right now it wanted to eat, and it wasn’t going to be waiting much longer. She’d gone to bed without dinner. At the time, she didn’t want it, and knew she’d be paying for it the next day. Totally correct, there. If she didn’t eat the night before, she always woke even more hungry.

  She pulled back the front curtains and screeched, blinded by the morning sun. She shielded her eyes and checked out the diner attached to the motel. Even from this far away it looked greasy, but it would have to do. After dressing in an old pair of jeans and one of Nick’s flannel shirts she’d stolen for comfort, she headed over to the café. The door opened in a welcoming jingle, and as she stepped in the entire place quieted down. A few people with their backs facing her turned around to eye her.

  Damn. Welcoming place. When was the last time she ate out alone? She knew she didn’t much look like everybody else. She never quite fit in with her silver hair, pale skin, and tall height. She hoped there would be others in the pack who looked like her. Maybe for once in her life—

  Rather than taking up a table, she sat on a stool at the counter. As soon as her butt hit the chair, conversations started up again. A waitress with faded red hair pulled up in a loose bun, and a nametag that read “Mona” approached.

  “What’cha get you this morning, doll?”

  “I’d like two eggs scrambled well, some bacon, and wheat toast, dry, please.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Do you have cola?”

  “Yep. Be right up.”

  She strummed her fingers on the counter and wished she’d brought something to read, even a map.

  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in these parts?” a gentleman next to her asked.

  “Do I stand out that much?” she said.

  “I’ve been coming to eat breakfast every morning since my Janie died five years ago. Only miss a few days when my daughter comes to visit, which isn’t often enough. So if you’ve been here before, I’d remember you.”

  Despite her desire to not engage in conversation, she laughed and looked at the man. Grandfatherly type, with huge bushy eyebrows. He’d already mentioned it but he was obviously a widower; a woman would make him trim those caterpillars. He probably had hair coming out of his ears, too.

  “I’m head out to Kisatchie National Forest for a bit of hiking,” she said.

  The man gave a low whistle. “Dressed like that? With more than six hundred thousand acres, there’s plenty of land to get lost in.”

  Silver looked down at her attire. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”

  “Those are city jeans. Don’t look like they’ve been broken in much, except for sitting, and those pretty boots—” He outright harrumphed.

  She twisted her ankle, taking in the supple black leather. She didn’t wear her heeled boots, but modest comfortable ones.

  “You’d better invest in a pair of hiking boots. If it does any raining, those things will soak right through instantly. And maybe some wool socks to keep your feet warm.” He paused. “And then maybe some Band-Aids for those pretty feet of yours. There won’t be any place to get a pedicure in them woods.”

  She bristled at his accusations, as if she couldn’t hack it in the wilderness. If he knew she was a werewolf, maybe he’d change his tune.

  “Harold, leave the girl alone. She didn’t ask for any advice from you, did she?”

 
“Nope, but I’m more than willing to offer it.”

  Mona placed a jumbo-sized plate in front of Silver. “Eat up if you’ll be hiking today. You’ll need those extra calories. It’s supposed to be getting chilly soon. And ignore him.”

  With a shake of his head, Harold stood. He took the last long drink of his coffee cup, and set it back down. He tucked a ten-spot under his dish, and put on his weathered baseball cap. “Ma’am.” He nodded to Silver. “If you’ll want a more pleasant experience, do as I suggested. Otherwise, don’t blame me if you’re miserable.”

  As she ate her breakfast, the coldness of the morning seeped through the thin leather of her boots, and she kicked herself for not really coming prepared. Maybe a trip to Shoe Barn would be good, or maybe once she hit the campgrounds, she’d be running free in her wolf form and wouldn’t have to worry about human adornments such as wool socks and hiking boots.

  Chapter Three

  After filling the truck up with gas, she headed back on the road. Within two hours, she’d reached the outskirts of the forest, and stopped at a main entrance to pick up a camping license for a week. The ranger looked her over as if he wanted to suggest she turn back to where she’d come from, but he kept his mouth closed. She headed back to Highway 6 and cut over to Louisiana Highway 117 for another sixteen miles. When she checked out the areas of the national forest, for some reason the isolated area of Coyote Camp called to her. Wolves living in Coyote Camp would be too ironic. She didn’t think the encampment would be near a main area, but maybe close by.

  She drove further into the park, through the maze of semi-paved roads, and finally parked the truck. Although she knew she probably wouldn’t get any reception away from civilization, she tucked her cell and a solar recharger into her bag, along with a heavy-duty flashlight. She slung her bag over one shoulder and in the other picked up her throw with water and some basic munchies, and set out on the hiking trail. After the first mile, her feet hurt, and she silently thanked Harold for insisting on her buying some Band-Aids. She rested on a boulder, slathered some Neosporin on her sore heels and the outer edges of her big toe and pinkie toe, and covered them with Hello Kitty bandages.

  Before moving on, she shut her eyes and opened her senses, listening to the heartbeat of nature. Refreshed and focused, she continued walking. Soon, she found the main campsites. A handful of tents were set up, and she used the public facilities and washed her hands. She tied her hair back into a ponytail. Despite the chill in the air, the physical exertion made her hot. Her gut churned. From here, there was no turning back. Once she branched out further, she’d either find what she’d been looking for, or not.

  * * * *

  About forty-five minutes later, right when she questioned her sanity—again—she came upon a clearing in the forest. Immediately, she knew she’d arrived.

  Although she didn’t know what to expect from the Wolfe Pack, she was surprised at the quaintness of the encampment. It looked like a little village, with a dozen or so cabins spread out among the trees. Without clear-cutting the area, the houses blended into available spots, with the canopy of cover offering camouflage and a natural cooling system.

  A dog came running up to her, and Silver bent down, rubbing behind its ears. It was quite big, even for a shepherd, and looked to have some wolf mixed in for good measure.

  “Lupa, come,” a man commanded. “Some guard dog she’s turning out to be. She didn’t even bark when she saw you.”

  He looked more intimidating than the dog, that was for sure. “Oh, she knew I didn’t mean any harm,” Silver said. “Kind of ironic you keeping a dog as a pet, though, isn’t it?”

  “And why would you say that?” His impressive black eyebrows drew together and his forehead creased.

  “Being a werewolf and all,” she replied.

  What made her say that? Jump right into a confrontation. Something about his posturing put her into defensive mode instantly though.

  The man stepped forward and grabbed Silver by the elbow, and the dog came between them, growling.

  “Lupa, back. Now you’re going to get protective?”

  “It’s all right, girl, come here.” Silver patted her leg, and the dog moved by her side. “You don’t have to manhandle me,” she said to the man. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  * * * *

  The sunlight glinted off her hair like a jeweled treasure. Viktor shielded his eyes at the glare, and checked out the rest of the invader. Dirt streaked across her muscled arms, and despite being winded, she took in their encampment with a look of awe. Pride swelled within Viktor’s chest. He’d put a lot of his own strength into the building of the site. The key was comfort and usability. He wanted the homes to blend into the environment. They weren’t creating a residential neighborhood one would find in a big city. They were a tribe. A pack.

  One with nature.

  What worried him though was the lack of defenses. How had she invaded their home turf without anyone being alerted? Usually, they knew when a stranger was close by. He raised his nose, sniffing the air, and caught an odd, yet familiar scent.

  She was a wolf, and related to someone within the pack.

  “Looks like Lupa found a new friend. What did you say your name was, again?”

  Jana, one of the women of the Pack, approached the unknown woman. As she grew nearer, the woman bowed slightly, as if not to elicit conflict. He drew nearer.

  “Looking for someone,” the woman explained. “Is this the Wolfe Pack?”

  With the mention of the surname Wolfe, Jana turned to Viktor, a question in her eyes. He stepped forward.

  “I am Viktor, and you have entered into our territory. What can we help you with?”

  As the woman glanced up at him, he was struck by her light blue eyes. Her delicate mouth turned up into a smile, exposing teeth fine for ripping meat from the bones. Although she was tall, he was taller than her by a foot, and up close he could see the muscles in her arms. She was a strong female, and if his senses were correct, she’d make a strong wolf.

  “I am Silver, and I’m looking for my father Nathaniel Wolfe. I was under the impression he may live out this way.”

  The admission didn’t totally shock him. He’d heard rumors about Nathaniel’s other family for years now, a wayward son. Never did he—or anyone else—expect someone to show up at their homestead, especially a specimen such as this one. The daughter of their pack leader, a fertile beauty. Such a rare occurrence would be ripe for the picking.

  He gave her his best smile, and she backed away.

  * * * *

  Dude. What was up with this guy? First, he lurched over, all six feet, five inches of him, and now he leered at her like she was a piece of meat ready to be laid out and eaten. Sure, he was all man—dreamy wide shoulders and a muscled chest with pecs that could be used to hold up frickin’ soda cans—but didn’t anyone ever tell him that polite people wore clothes? Maybe that was what she got, visiting the backwoods to find dear ol’ dad. Backwoods people. Trevor would have a good laugh when she told him of her experience.

  She waited for some type of verbal response. Did he understand her at all? What a creepy grimace.

  “Do you talk English? Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m looking for my father.”

  A scowl darkened his forehead, and she didn’t think he could get any more mean looking.

  The man blanched, and looked at the dog again. “Well, that explains it. She probably recognizes your sent.”

  “We may be able to help you,” Jana intervened. “Why don’t you take a seat by the common fire, and I’ll get you something to drink? You must be thirsty.”

  At the mention of water, her throat immediately dried up. She had water she’d been carrying with her, but something cold and not from a bottle would be divine.

  Jana led her forward. She was a petite woman with rich, dark curls resemb
ling the approaching fall colors. While Silver sometimes felt like she lacked color in her appearance with her pale skin and light hair, this woman vibrated with life.

  Ahead looked to be some sort of formal sitting area, with tables set up in a round circle with a fire pit in the middle. Along the side were other cooking areas and worktables. All the people present were busy working on projects, and they all quieted down as they approached.

  Silver reclined on what used to be a tree stump and had been carved into a wooden chair. She ran her hand along the smooth surface. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get splinters in her ass.

  A glance back at the brute confirmed her suspicion that he remained where she left him, staring after her like she was the last woman on Earth, which was ridiculous since another woman was right here helping them. Birds sang from the trees encircling the clearing. The sun streamed down, creating odd shadows on the dirt from where it broke through the leaves.

  For some reason, she couldn’t help but engage him further. “Hey, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “I’m Viktor,” he said. The frown lines on his face deepened as he gazed at her. “Vick.”

  “As in Vick the Dick,” she mumbled. The guy wasn’t taught many lessons, but what did she expect with him growing up in the forest with a bunch of wolves?

  “Viktor, why don’t you go see if you can find out some information on this Wolfe person?” Jana instructed. “I’ll see to our guest.”

  As if kicked out of a trance, Viktor shook his head. With a last look at her, he turned his back to her and started walking away.

  Silver shivered, imagining what he would look like as a wolf. He’d be humongous, bigger than she could ever imagine. Maybe twice the size of Trevor. Were they somehow different, being hybrids, unnaturals? Maybe her father wouldn’t even want to see her. Maybe he’d be embarrassed. Ashamed.

  When she’d set out to find her father, Silver hadn’t thought through all the implications. Sure, she expected him to be a bit taken aback, and certainly surprised. But she didn’t picture him living in a secluded colony populated completely by wolves, it seemed. From where she sat, a dozen small houses sat recessed into the trees. Moss covered the rooftops, and branches from neighboring trees curled around the walls. If one was passing through this part of the woods quickly, they could be completely camouflaged.

 

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