by Sennah Tate
With nowhere else to go, Brock left his pack behind and disappeared into the swamp.
He found himself at the old hunting cabin he and Hailey spent the night in. It was as good a place as any to rest his head, he supposed. And maybe there would still be a lingering trace of her scent on the bedclothes.
He could hope.
In the late night hours, Brock made a discovery that he knew he had to share and there was only one person in the world he wanted to share it with.
Chapter Thirteen
Hailey
Time was meant to fix everything. Hailey didn’t think a million years would be enough to fix this, let alone the mere three days that had passed since her bizarre abduction and rescue at the hands of Brock and his men.
She hadn’t been able to go back to the diner. Only Shirlene knew that she’d been in a scuffle with Silvanus’ lot, but no one knew the complete truth. The terrible haunting truth that she still couldn’t accept: Brock was a panther.
Hailey still wasn’t sure what it all meant. She’d spent days mulling it over and was no closer to developing an opinion on everything that had happened. At best, she was bewildered.
The doorbell rang and she ignored it. No one had been by to visit her in her absence, but Hailey liked it that way. If she wanted to socialize, she would leave her house. Solitude provided a comfort that no other person had ever been able to match. Except… well, Brock didn’t count.
A heavy thump, like a package being dropped off, piqued her interest. She peered through the blinds just in time to see a vehicle turn around the corner. On her front step rested a plain brown cardboard box with an envelope taped to the top.
She pulled the letter free of the envelope and began reading as she carried the package inside:
Hailey —
I tried to see you at Elle’s every day this week, but you haven’t been around. I’m sorry. I found this and thought you should have it.
Inside the box she found an old leather-bound book, stuffed full of papers and pictures. The spine of the journal was stretched and distorted from constant use and the covers were well-oiled from many years of being handled.
A letter fluttered out of the book and Hailey picked it up.
My dearest Dennis…
She quickly realized they were love letters to her grandpa and felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. She’d never known her grandparents all that well, but her father often told stories about their epic love story. It was town legend — two people never more right for each other.
She flipped through a few of the pages until something caught her eye: her grandmother’s name was Elle, not Nora. Why were these letters signed Nora?
She continued reading, the picture growing ever more vivid. The story started innocently enough, her grandfather, Dennis, and his betrothed, Nora, exchanging sweet — but chaste — letters of devotion. Meanwhile, her grandfather’s diary told another story. A pretty young woman named Elle, from Kansas moved into town and he was smitten.
He tried to break it to Nora gently. Or so he said. Hailey didn’t have her grandfather’s letters to corroborate his side of the story. Regardless, Nora didn’t take the rejection well.
At first, she seemed to think he was joking, then she declined to release him from their betrothal. When that didn’t work, she threatened his new love and the life they may one day make together.
The letters grew more disturbing and deranged. Nora went from sounding like a woman with a broken heart to a deviant filled with a thirst for vengeance.
The last diary entry from her grandfather mentioned taking care of the ‘nuisance’ once and for all. It was vague enough to leave Hailey scratching her head. And what did this have to do with the beasts he’d written about in his ledger?
She hated that her grandfather was no longer around to answer these questions.
Inside the back cover of the diary was a sticky note with what she now recognized as Brock’s scrawl:
I bet by now you’re ready to find out what all of this is about. I have a theory. If you’re willing to hear me out — about everything — open the second box.
Hailey noticed the flat box nestled perfectly inside the first. The journal had captivated her attention so completely that she never noticed another box. Tissue paper crinkled as she brushed it aside to pull a gorgeous aqua satin dress from the thin box.
Another note fluttered to the ground as she held the beautiful garment up to her body.
Diner @ 9
Her eyes darted to the clock on the microwave: it was already eight. Did she want to forgive him? To explore whatever this crazy thing was between them? To take this a step further?
And what was this dress about? Where did this swarm of butterflies in her stomach come from?
Hailey remembered the boy that saved her. She pictured the man he’d grown into. Remembered the feel of the scars he bore for her under her fingertips.
There was no question.
She’d forgiven him long ago.
Forty-five minutes later, Hailey finished touching up her third — and final — attempt at applying lipstick. Her mother wasn’t exactly the type that taught her how to wear make-up and she’d never found much of an occasion to do so… until now. The doorbell rang and her heart jumped into her throat while her stomach dropped to the floor. They were supposed to meet at the diner, weren’t they?
The moment she opened the door, Brock stole her breath.
He stood on her doorstep in a classic black tuxedo with a thin tie that made him look like a million bucks. In his hand was a little bundle of flowers that Hailey instantly recognized as a corsage.
“I was really hoping you’d be wearing that or I’d look real silly,” he said in his rich caramel baritone, a dazzling smile making her heart race more than ever.
Realization dawned on her slowly as she put all the pieces together. She kissed him, flinging her arms around his neck as she forced back tears.
“Thank you,” she said.
Brock took a step back from her, plainly confused.
“What? I had this whole thing to win you back… you’re thanking me?”
Hailey felt like she could laugh. Or cry. Or both at the same time.
“For saving me,” she said. “All those years ago… then the river… and now.” She ran her fingers over the smooth plane of his cheek, tracing a thumb over the chiseled line of his jaw. How had she ever been angry at him?
“Now?” he asked, still taking care with his words.
Hailey nodded. “I always thought my brain betrayed me. That we were at odds. You...and grandpa,” she gestured to the old diary, “you made me realize I’m not insane. Those things I saw were real.”
Brock nodded, slipping a hand over the curve of her waist.
“They are real, Hailey. I wish you never had to know about them…”
She frowned, running her thumb over his bottom lip before speaking, “But then I’d never have met you.”
He looked away even as his grip on her side tightened. “It would be better.”
“How can you say that? If there’s one thing my grandpa’s diary taught me it’s that when you find real love… you fight for it.”
His eyes found hers then.
“You mean it?”
The softness in his voice, the tender insecurity, tugged at her and she nodded.
“I do.”
He swept her into his arms and seemed to barely restrain himself from bruising her lips with his.
“I knew you were mine all those years ago, but I never thought it could be real. I never thought…”
She pressed a finger to his lips to halt his overwrought words.
“There’s something else,” she said and he stiffened. “I want to kill it. It tried to kill me and another man before my grandpa. Someone has to stop that monster.”
She expected him to protest. To tell her that she couldn’t do it. It was too dangerous. She braced herself for an argument.
“Okay
. But not alone. Not just us,” he said.
“Look, it’s something I have to do and I don’t care what you— Wait, what?”
“We will destroy the sasquatch, but not alone.”
“Not your men,” she protested, stiffening in his arms at the memory of her abduction.
Brock’s face darkened with a scowl before he made a point to soften his expression, “They’re not my men anymore. They turned on me after I attacked Coriolus. It doesn’t matter. I know someone that will help.”
“Who?” Hailey itched to go after the beast that robbed her of a normal life.
Brock slid a hand over her satin-covered bottom and squeezed playfully, “Let’s worry about that later. Right now, you’ve got your very first prom to go to.”
There would be time for monster hunting and mystery-solving another day. Brock was right. Tonight, she just wanted to be with him. And every other night, for that matter.
“Let’s go.”
Blaze
Chapter One
Benny
“Just a spoonful of sugar,” Benny sang, stirring the cupcake batter before filling a dozen paper liners and sliding the whole thing into the oven.
The laptop on the counter dinged merrily as Dr. Fairway — or Rich as he preferred to be called — returned his instant message.
Thought you’d get a kick out of this :)
Ben opened the attached link and had a chuckle over the latest blog conspiracy. Rich had been an avid bigfoot hunter for decades before his daughter and Ben’s brother, Tucker, got together. Now the cryptid-obsessed biologist was practically family with a sasquatch and could make fun of those still in the dark about the truth. This particular article came from an Alabama native who claimed she saw bigfoot taking her laundry from the clothesline behind her house.
Why would any self-respecting sasquatch steal some little old lady’s bloomers? he typed back, before taking his turn in their online chess match.
At first, Benny was merely amused by the Doctor’s fascination with him, but eventually the novelty wore off and they’d managed to forge a close friendship, free of judgement or expectations. They teased and joshed like in-laws often did and Benny was grateful for the company, even if it was mostly online.
Once Tucker found his mate in Gabi, they’d wasted no time in getting a little place together with an attached apartment for Gabi’s father. On the one hand, Ben was glad to finally be rid of his older brother’s overbearing protectiveness. On the other hand, the swamp could be a pretty lonely place without someone to look out for you.
Still, he had his own cozy cabin, a great kitchen for cooking and baking, and a handful of close friends and family. What more could a monster like him ask for? Life wasn’t great, but it was good enough for him. Better than he’d ever thought he could have when he was cursed after his high school graduation.
“Little brother! I smell delicious baked goods!” Tucker called as he waltzed through the front door like he owned the place — he did own the place, but that wasn’t the point.
Tucker’s pretty dark-haired mate followed behind and offered a bright smile and a wave, “Hi Ben!”
Benny’s brow creased and he frowned, “Uh, hello unexpected guests,” he said, barely containing the snark in his voice. “You guys do know that you moved out, right? To your own house? Where you can drop in and out as much as you want? Your own place that isn’t here?”
Gabi sent a startled look to her boyfriend and muttered “You didn’t tell him we were coming?” under her breath.
Tucker shrugged and gave Benny’s chestnut fur-covered shoulder a hearty smack.
“Don’t act like you’re not happy to see me, Ben! Besides, the company will do you some good.”
It was often difficult for others to read his emotions, but Benny was certain there was no mistaking his scowl.
“Could’ve at least called. You can’t just pop in whenever you want,” he grumbled, casting a suspicious glance towards Gabi. She was being too quiet.
Tucker shrugged again, waving off Ben’s concern as he rummaged around for some of his brother’s infamous pastries.
“I’m family. Popping in unannounced is what we do. And we needed a neutral place to meet.”
Ben was already formulating his retort to the first half of Tucker’s sentence when the second half gave him pause.
“We? Who’s ‘we’?”
Gabi shifted on her feet and Benny felt his jaw clench involuntarily. What were they keeping from him?
“Silvanus… Brock,” Tucker started, then corrected himself, “Brock and I are meeting to discuss… things,” he answered without providing much information at all.
There were so many objections screaming in his brain that Ben had trouble settling on just one.
“Silvanus,” he hissed, “the one that threatened to turn me in for a murder I didn’t commit?”
“Well…” Tucker said, looking sheepish.
“Since when do you call him Brock?” Ben continued as if the name left a bitter taste in his mouth. “And how is my house neutral?”
“Benny, calm down he—”
“And what things do you and Brock Silvanus have to discuss?”
“I’m trying to explain that!” Tucker finally roared over his brother. “I know we haven’t always gotten along with him, but we have a common enemy, now. We both want to destroy the rogue skunk ape.”
Benny shook his head, disbelieving, “My own brother? How could you work with him? His pack was ready to rip me apart. They nearly did rip you apart! I don’t want him anywhere near me or my house,” he said finally.
Tucker’s jaw hardened and for a moment, Benny thought he looked just like their father — stern and immovable.
“He’s different. He’s found his mate, left his pack, and wants to work with me. Isn’t that something you can get behind?” Tucker pleaded, a golden fire simmering just below the surface of his eyes.
“No. I don’t trust him. If you do, it’s your funeral. I’m not going to have any part of it.”
“Well, too bad. It’s happening with or without you.”
With his temper at the boiling point, Benny uttered a string of curses under his breath and stormed out of his house. He wasn’t going to get into an all out fight with his brother over a worthless thug.
He was too angry to even care that it was still daylight. It wasn’t safe for him to be traipsing about during the day, even in the remotest part of the swamp, but it was safer than picking a fight with his were-panther brother. Anger wasn’t a familiar emotion for him. He didn’t know how to handle it. He didn’t trust the sasquatch part of him to show restraint if he lost his temper. It was best to just remove himself from the situation and cool his head.
Chapter Two
Elena
As dark clouds gathered behind the Tampa skyline, Elena tried to distract herself with thoughts of cool Caribbean breezes and tanned cabana boys delivering drinks…
She switched tabs to look at her available time off from her job as a corporate worker bee. She only got a few days vacation each calendar year, did she want to use them for a cruise?
Usually, she saved them, waiting for a better opportunity, a more exciting trip — even an emergency — and suddenly she’d find herself at the end of the year, with expired vacation days and nothing to show for it.
Elena changed windows again to look at the cruise. She could take a five-day cruise and only have to take three days off of work…
The phone rang next to her and she ignored it, too busy with her fantasy of sun-soaked days and fun-filled nights.
She purposefully avoided looking at the buzzing phone, hoping that whoever was on the other end wouldn’t know she was simply ignoring them. She powered through two more rings before guilt got the better of her and she answered.
“Hello?”
“Lainey! I was starting to think you didn’t have time for your decrepit old aunt,” the familiar rasp of her Aunt Bea greeted her.
She rolled her eyes and smiled — she would’ve felt even more guilty if Aunt Bea’s call went unanswered.
“Of course I have time for you, Bea. And you’re far from decrepit. What’s up?” Elena loved her parents, but she’d always have a special place for the old woman she’d spent her childhood summers with. While she hated the smelly old swamp the woman called home, she loved Aunt Bea’s adventurous spirit and resourcefulness.
“Why does something have to be up? Can’t I call my favorite niece without a reason?” The mischievous lilt in her elderly voice was all the answer Elena needed.
“You could, but you aren’t.”
A raspy laugh answered her, “Can’t get anything past you. Does that city job of yours ever give you any time off?”
Elena gave the smiling bikini-clad group on her computer screen a wistful look, “Not a lot, unfortunately.” It wasn’t a lie, but she already felt nauseous for being disingenuous.
“Ah, I see,” Bea clucked her tongue disappointed. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you… I’m not getting any younger, you know. There are some… family things you should know before I… well, you know.”
Elena cringed. Way to pile on the guilt, Aunt Bea. She wondered what kind of ‘family things’ Bea deigned important. Throughout her childhood, Aunt Bea had told her stories of creatures in the swamp near her house, myths, legends — things that existed only in imagination — but Bea spoke about them with utter conviction. As if these fireside chats were important lessons rather than bedtime stories.
“Don’t say things like that. You’re not going anywhere,” she answered, but her heart wasn’t really in it. Aunt Bea was getting on in years. She’d been an old woman as long as Elena could remember and now Elena was well into her twenties. How old was Bea? Sixty? Seventy? Older? She’d never bothered to ask and now she had to wonder at how she’d always assumed the woman was immortal.
After a long pause, Elena sighed and closed the cruise ship page.
“Actually, I have some vacation time I could put in for. It would be nice to visit,” Elena said. It would be nicer if you didn’t live in Sunset Glade, she added mentally.