by Sonja Bair
“Nope, doesn’t seem like a friendly dinner now. But let’s cut to the chase.” I wandered into the kitchen and watched him open the wine. “You are going to try to talk me into leaving. I’ll refuse. You will try to bribe me into leaving. I’ll refuse. You will get angry and start pretending to threaten me. I’ll call you on it and remind you of my powerful friends. You will get angrier, say some nonsense you don’t mean. I’ll get stubborn and start making bad jokes about the situation. You’ll clam up and fume, but will eventually break down. Then you will reluctantly agree to the two of us living in the same town. Let’s skip to the agreement right now and not waste all that time.”
David looked up from the wine, and I could watch the emotions cross his normally blank face. Anger, frustration, amusement, and then resignation. “You are used to getting your way, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m used to analyzing situations and coming to the logical conclusion. I also don’t like to throw away time on unnecessary motions. What are we eating tonight?”
David stared at me for a moment, silent. Eventually, he shook his head slightly, sighed, and ran down the dinner menu. Yes, I had guessed right. He was a good cook—or at least an ambitious one. But even better, it appeared that I had convinced him to give the eviction orders a rest for now.
We proceeded to talk about what drew us to the town and actually made potential plans to go hiking on some local trails. I was slightly amazed that we truly had skipped all the arguing and moved to friendly talk. But over dinner, I decided to press my luck.
“Why are you a lone werewolf, David? I know that most werewolves need packs to survive.”
His green eyes searched mine and seemed to make a decision. For some reason, he had decided to trust me. The weight of his trust struck me hard. Why was he being so honest and friendly with me when he was ready to toss me out of town a few days ago?
“I was used to be part of the New Mexico pack. My father was a werewolf, but died when I was in my early twenties. My mother and my younger, non-werewolf brother had had enough of pack life, and she moved them to upstate New York for a better job. The pack gave them the blessing to leave, thank God.
“I was in the middle of starting my first company and wasn’t paying much attention to pack business. The Alphas of the pack, Robert and Maria, were starting to take the super part of supernatural too literally. Pack naturals, the partners and children of the werewolves, were forced into the submissive roles in the pack: cooking, cleaning, yard work. It was demeaning for them, but survivable.
“Over time, the demands became worse. The naturals were forced to tithe twenty percent of their paycheck to the pack, and then forty percent. By the time I got around to taking a stand, the naturals were being forced to sell possessions to support the pack, and there were rumors of sexual demands. Even werewolves lower in the hierarchy were starting to look beaten down. Perhaps the demands were being made of them as well.”
David stopped and looked down at the table, scraping off an imaginary spot. I hardly moved, not wanting to break the flow of what seemed to be a pent-up confession.
David started again. “I am ashamed I waited as long as I did to take a stand. I have excuses handy—my company was starting to take off and it demanded most of my time, I had no family in the pack, I was high enough in the pack to not hear the rumblings of the lower werewolves. But those are weak, pathetic excuses. Pack naturals are absolutely necessary to the pack, and we abused them. My position high in the pack should have made me act sooner, not later. After seeing Valentina sitting in a corner with her shirt ripped and sobbing into her hands, I knew it went too far.
“I tried talking with Robert and Maria, then begging. I called other pack leaders. I tried to create sanctuaries for the naturals and lower werewolves were they could escape the attention of the Alphas. But I didn’t have the support of enough high-ranking werewolves; some of them were even reveling in the power they were given. When it came down to physically confronting and challenging Robert and Maria to end their reign, I barely escaped with my life. I think my friend Pedro stepped in and begged to take my barely living body to a far-away dumping ground. Probably the only reason that he was allowed to do that was because they didn’t think there was any way I would survive. But I think they forgot how quickly we heal. I survived.”
Again, I remained motionless. I had a feeling that sympathy would cause him to shut down, but in my heart, I cried for his pain. David took a bite of the roasted potatoes. “Overdone.” He sighed. The dish had tasted fabulous to me. He put down his fork. “Do you know that you are the first person who I have told this to? Why? Do you have some unknown powers of calming?”
“No.” I laughed. “No supernatural power of calming. I wish I did, since I get my family angry at me enough. So what is the plan now?” From my experience with the men in my family, they didn’t want to analyze feelings and emotions. Maybe I could sneak that in later, but David seemed almost worn out by his revelations. From the little I knew about him, surely he had the future mapped out.
“I’m slowly rebuilding my life. Because of the way pack funds are set up, Robert and Maria were able to confiscate my Santa Fe home and the rights to my technology. But before this disaster, I managed to set up a hidden bank account and was able to put small deposits into it once in awhile without being detected. I’m living on that now and starting a new company which is distinct enough from my previous one to avoid claims of technology infringement by the pack. I’ll survive.”
He sat back in his seat, put one foot on a knee. Surprisingly, he looked almost relaxed now. He glanced at the table and grabbed the wine bottle. “Wolff Vineyard Chardonnay? How did I not see that before?” He laughed, “Nicely played, Freya.”
I laughed. “No really. It is my favorite local Chardonnay. They also have a beautiful outdoor tasting room. You should go sometime. I’m sure you will feel very comfortable there.”
He shook his head and returned to the kitchen to grab my apple pie. Over the dessert, we discussed important topics such as our mutual bafflement at putting cheese on apple pies, whether the Cubs would ever, ever make it to the World Series, and the future of alternative energies. Both of David’s past and current companies were focused on refining solar power technology to bring them to a more practical and efficient level.
Overall, the evening had gone splendidly and I felt the issue of us living in the town had been firmly laid to rest. As I was putting on my shoes at the end of the evening, David grabbed my purse from the side table and handed it to me. I reached for it, but he didn’t let go. In fact, he pulled the purse close to him, making me take a step toward him. He placed his hand low on my back, lowered his head, and brushed my lips lightly with his own. My heartbeat soared and I lost my breath.
“Thank you, Freya. I had a wonderful night. You convinced me that there is a future for both of us in San Luis. I look forward to our hike.” He opened the door and gently pushed me out, a devilish smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. I stood on the front step for a moment, baffled at both myself and David. My thoughts were torn. I didn’t know what my intentions were with him; the whole thing had happened so fast. I could still feel his gentle kiss. That man was dangerous.
Chapter 5
The next few days were spent writing lesson plans and setting up my classes’ websites. I would be teaching Chemistry, General Biology, and Anatomy & Physiology this year. This would be my first time teaching A&P, and any new class took lots and lots of preparation. Each day, David would call and try to get me to go out and do something. Each day, I managed to put him off by truthful claims of being swamped with school preparation. But by Thursday afternoon, David wore me down and convinced me to go on a hike out at a state park by the ocean.
The state park was well-known to locals, but wasn’t on the usual tourist route. Therefore, on that particular afternoon, we had the park to ourselves. David picked a hike that followed a creek back up into a mountain fold.
I let the
smell of wild lavender and black sage wash over me as I took the first steps down the trail. The central coast of California is incredible. I felt like I had moved into a spice store every time I went outside. On the other hand, there was a sign at the head of the trail warning about mountain lions, rattlesnakes, and ticks. I shuddered. Ticks give me a really bad case of the creeps.
David let me set the pace, which I established as a brisk walk. On the way to the park, we had talked about our families. David came from a very diverse, international family, with ancestors from Brazil, Spain, and Ireland, among others. His explanation for the mixed-up background was that when one half of the couple was a werewolf, any other difference, such as race, pales in comparison. The idea of marrying into the werewolf pack fascinated me. Sure, the majority of Alva married naturals, but it didn’t seem to be such a difference as marrying a person who could turn into an animal at the blink of an eye. I continued to pepper him with questions during the hike.
“So your mom knew that your dad was a werewolf, right?”
“Of course.”
“But werewolves can be female as well?”
“It’s fifty-fifty. In fact, my dad’s mother was a werewolf.”
“No way! Grandma was a werewolf? It’s like Little Red Riding Hood, but backward,” I said in amazement.
David laughed. “I suppose. Female werewolves can be as tough as male werewolves. In fact, Maria was more vicious than Robert as Alpha, although Robert wasn’t far behind.”
“So how does a pair of Alphas get picked? Does top dog get to pick his or her mate?”
“No, it’s the top male and top female of the pack. Mysteriously, it usually is a pairing which works and they generally have a good relationship. It’s part of the werewolf magic, I guess,” he said with a shrug.
I mulled over his revelations for awhile. The diversity of people in this world was mind-boggling, and I got to be near the epicenter of it all as my mom and her friends tried to unite supernaturals.
“So what about Alvas?” David asked after a few minutes of silence.
“What about us?” I replied.
“How does your society work? Are there Alphas in your world as well?”
“No. Not so much. We have a ruling board which is called the Flock Elders. It’s not exactly democratic in who gets elected, but if an Elder becomes too unpopular, the rest of the Flock makes sure he or she gets demoted. For the most part, it’s a good system. And as you mentioned at the park that day, yes, I do come from a long line of Elders, but my mother has decided to pursue the USN rather than an Elder position.”
“How about your dad?”
I smiled. In the supernatural world, my dad played second fiddle to my mom, but only on the surface. “My dad is a natural, but in Sweden, his family has long been associated with the Alva, so he knew all about her world. He adores my mom, and my mom adores him.” My mom and dad were that rare couple who were still in love and googley-eyed for each other after two kids and decades of marriage. “My dad knew he was marrying a natural-born leader and politician but instead of fighting it, he has been the strength behind her work. She wouldn’t have accomplished half as much without his support and encouragement.”
“So you have a good family.” I couldn’t tell if David was asking a question or coming to a conclusion. In fact, based on the tone of his voice, he was processing something much larger than what he was saying, although I couldn’t guess what it was. I only nodded in reply.
We came to a small bridge crossing a dried-up creek bed. I stopped and leaned on the wooden railing, enjoying the nature surrounding us. David leaned next to me.
“Do you like being an Alva?” he asked.
“Yes, I do. As far as supernaturals go, we fit in society fairly well. Plus, the feeling of flying is extraordinary. And you, do you like being a werewolf?”
“No,” he said in a clipped tone.
I laughed. “You think you are getting away with a one-word answer? Then you don’t know the full extent of my nosy nature.”
David stood up and started to walk again. I followed, waiting for his answer. It came after a few minutes of silence.
“I love my pack mates. I never would have known most of the people in the pack if I weren’t a werewolf and, frankly, I have become a better person from knowing them. The people aren’t the issue. But werewolf tradition is based in brutality and dictatorship. If something stands in the way of a werewolf, it is our obligation to tear it down with tooth and claw. Packs are insular and treat outsiders with contempt and violence if necessary.
“All these traditions are rooted in the role of Alpha and the pecking order. I have never felt comfortable with such rigid and violent structure. I don’t want to be part of a pack, but because of my werewolf side, I must.”
David gave himself a little shake and then continued in a completely different tone of voice. “So I want to see you fly. I want to see your wings. Can you do that right now?”
Wow. That was an abrupt change of topic. I guessed that we were done with the heavy subjects now.
“Nope. Can I see you change into a werewolf?”
“I would have to take off my clothes to change. Is that okay with you?” David said with a teasing smile and a cocked eyebrow.
I instantly blushed bright red, which made me even more embarrassed and probably caused me to blush even more. “Let’s stick with hiking,” I managed to stutter out.
“As you wish.” David continued to smile.
Chapter 6
The next morning, since the websites were set up for my classes, I went to work on my classroom. I still had a while before school started, but I knew from experience that the beginning of the year was the only time I would be able to fuss with the arrangement of the classroom. Once school started, it would fall to the bottom of my priority list. My new classroom was in pretty good shape to begin with, but every teacher organizes a little differently, so most of the morning was spent getting the science equipment set up just so. Time flew by and my stomach was reminding me vociferously that lunchtime was approaching.
A knock on my door jolted me out of my thoughts. Amy, a friendly literature teacher was in my doorway. We had lively conversations the few times we had run into each other and I smiled at the opportune timing for making lunch plans. But instead of walking in at my invite, she paused in the doorway with a sparkle in her eyes.
“You have a tall, handsome visitor asking for you, Freya.”
That was unexpected news, but my smile grew a little wider. I only knew one tall, handsome man in town. “Well, send him in!”
And Alrik stepped through the door. There was a sharp disconnect in my brain, like when someone takes a sip of what seems to be water but what actually turns out to be clear soda. The mouth and the brain don’t seem to speak the same language for a second. In this case, my eyes and my brain weren’t speaking the same language.
To be fair, he certainly did fit Amy’s description. Alrik was six feet tall, with sandy blond hair and ridiculously nice cheekbones. His Flock position as Arbitrator required him to stay in top physical shape, and it certainly made for a nice look. His eyes were a deeper blue than mine and had long eyelashes. Again with the eyelashes! Women would pay for those eyelashes and yet they were wasted on men. Well, perhaps not wasted.
“Alrik. I wasn’t expecting to see you.” My tone was neutral because, frankly, I wasn’t sure if I felt any emotion other than shock at seeing him.
“I was in the area and thought I’d swing by.” His tone was guarded, too; I wondered if he picked up that I had been thinking of someone else with the description of tall and handsome.
“Los Angles is not exactly in ‘swinging by’ distance.” Again, a very neutral tone.
“It is when compared to Sweden.” Alrik shifted from one foot to the other and his tone dropped from guarded to slightly annoyed.
“Oh, Sweden! I was trying to place the accent. Do you live there?” asked Amy cheerfully. I looked at her, bewild
ered—could she not sense the tension that thickening the air to suffocation levels?
Alrik had worked hard to reduce his Swedish accent when visiting and working in America. He said that when he had a thicker accent, he had suffered through too many Saturday Night Live Hans and Franz jokes. I cringed when he said that. Hans and Franz were supposed to be Austrians.
“Yes, he does, although he travels a lot. Amy, this is an old family friend, Alrik. Alrik, meet Amy. She teaches eleventh and twelfth grade literature here.”
Amy stepped into the classroom and leaned against the wall. She looked like she was about to start some serious flirting.
“Good to meet you, Amy. I’m sure you have some work to do right now,” Alrik said.
Either Amy wasn’t good on picking up some heavy duty hints or she decided to ignore it and press her luck. “Oh, no. I’m nearly done; I’ve got some time to spare. So why do you travel so much?”
Alrik turned to her and allowed some of his power to seep into his displeasure. The air grew even heavier. Amy stood up in a rush, made an excuse, and dismissed herself. The door shut loudly behind her. I sat down on a desktop and took a longer look at Alrik. “Nice. You intimidated a school teacher. Very big of you.”
He shrugged. “You can tell her sorry if you want to later.”
I smiled; this type of interaction was typical with Alrik. He had a scary side, but that was only one of many. “You look good. How have you been?”
“The usual. Business has been good, Flock duties have been light. But I’m very curious about you. This move was a big change. How have you been doing?”
I could answer that question honestly. “Great. San Luis is a beautiful town, I get to see Elin quite a bit, the school seems to very welcoming. So far, it’s been an auspicious start.”