Sunset Glade Panthers: The Original Trilogy and Epilogue

by Sennah Tate

  “Oh, honey, you’ve made this old woman’s day!” Bea exclaimed. Elena could practically hear the tears gathering in Bea’s eyes and felt lighter — anyone could take a cruise to Jamaica, not everyone had an Aunt Bea.

  “Alright, see you soon, love you too.” She hung up the call and resisted the urge to bang her head on the desk.

  Of all the places to spend her hard-earned vacation days, why Sunset Glade? Every summer her parents shipped her down south to the swamp. It was boring, smelly, creepy and so far away from civilization that it hurt.

  Despite all of that, her memories of visiting Aunt Bea were all fond ones and so she found herself on the next short flight to the Everglades.

  It shouldn’t have surprised Elena one bit to find Bea’s house empty without a note. Her aunt was forgetful and eccentric — a potent combination. She dropped her bag on the porch and set off down the well-worn path to her aunt’s favorite foraging spot.

  Bea lived a subsistence lifestyle, using only what she found, caught, or grew herself. Elena found it admirable — even enjoyable for short bouts of time — but she could never live without the security of the supermarket around the corner.

  “Aunt Bea?” she called, pushing through some tangled undergrowth. Years of summers spent in the area meant that Elena was somewhat familiar with the trails. Only somewhat because Bea seemed to add a new path every few months.

  “Bea? Are you out here?” she called again, frustration mounting. Her aunt knew she was visiting, why wouldn’t she be home?

  The path ended abruptly and Elena threw up her hands in defeat. And she wonders why I don’t visit more…

  A rustling behind her drew Elena away from the footpath. The dense canopy overhead blocked out most of the fading afternoon light and she wasn’t able to navigate around grasping vines that ensnared her ankles. She tripped, stumbled, and clawed at the plants that seemed determined to take her down.

  “Let go!” she growled in frustration, hopping on one foot as she did.

  She hopped backwards once more and realized too late that there was no more ground to catch her. In a moment that stretched by in slow-motion, Elena fell into a hole big enough to be her grave.

  Her feet and knees found the muddy bottom of the hole at the same time with a solid plop.

  “What the…”

  The gaping hole in the ground she found herself in didn’t look like a sinkhole. It looked purposefully carved out of the Earth. The walls were damp and the soil too loosely packed to provide any support for climbing out. As she tried to dig her way out, more and more mud flew at her and Elena realized she was on the fast track to burying herself.

  Panic slithered through her. A fleeting thought at first — what if no one finds me? — that burrowed and took hold, spreading through her like a cancer until her chest felt tight and breathing was difficult.

  “Hello? Anyone? Help?” she called, her voice high and tight. No one would hear her. Aunt Bea wouldn’t know where she was. She’d be another person lost forever to the swamp. It wasn’t unheard of. There had been a boy a few years ago — he went into the Glades and never came out. Was that going to be her fate?

  Silent tears filled her eyes and she forced them back, taking a long steadying breath.

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Elena,” she said before calling for help once more.

  When she was certain no one would answer, someone finally did.

  “Are you hurt?” he called over the edge of the pit. His voice was soft, rough around the edges, but genuinely concerned. Elena’s heart leaped into her throat — was this what it felt like to be the damsel in distress, saved by the knight?

  “No, I’m okay,” she answered, disregarding the minor scratches that stung her hands and knees, “just stuck.”

  “Okay,” he answered, “I’m going to toss you a line. Tie it around your waist and I’ll pull you out.”

  Elena could’ve cried at hearing those words. Maybe she had gotten ahead of herself with panic, but that didn’t make her relief any less real. She followed his instructions and watched with a wary gaze as the rope dug in deep to the edge of the pit. With three big heaves, Elena found herself climbing over the edge of the hole, back on stable ground once more.

  Covered in mud and on the verge of tears, she pulled herself to her feet and turned to her rescuer.

  “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done withou— What are you doing way over there?” Her savior must have darted away from her the moment she reached ground level — he was at least ten feet away from her, merely a dark shadow amongst the trees.

  She took two steps toward him before he held up an arm to stop her.

  “You shouldn’t come near me,” he said, his voice tinged with… nervousness? What did he have to be nervous about? He’d just saved her.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, taking another step forward. An unfamiliar feeling prickled up her spine as she neared him and he retreated another step, his arm still extended.

  “I just want to thank you…”

  “You’re welcome,” he said hastily.

  Elena frowned, confused and frustrated once more with the strange people of the swamp.

  “I… but…” she stuttered, waving her arms in defeat.

  A crack like a gunshot rang out and a dark shape fell from the canopy, striking the man on the shoulder.

  He howled in pain and dropped to one knee, his arm suddenly hanging limp.

  “Are you okay?” she darted forward, but he held up a hand again.

  “Fine,” he winced.

  “I’m sorry. Things like this always happen when I’m here. Weird holes, falling limbs, this swamp hates me,” she rambled, not sure why.

  He regarded her for a long moment and she felt that prickle sneak up the back of her neck now.

  “That makes two of us,” he finally said, a smile clearly heard in his voice.

  She tried to take another step toward him, but he maintained the distance.

  “Where are you staying?” he asked, “Can you find your way home?”

  She nodded slowly, not sure if he could see the gesture or not.

  “With my aunt. I think so.”

  “Be careful.”

  “If you come with me, my aunt can take a look at that should—” in the blink of an eye he’d vanished, “—er.”

  In the darkness it took Elena a little longer to find her way back to Aunt Bea’s, but once she saw the familiar shack, she felt the grip of terror on her heart loosen for the first time since she’d strayed from the path.

  “Lainey! There you are!” Bea called from the front porch, “Honey, you’re filthy!”

  Elena hardly registered her aunt’s surprise. She was past due for a good meal and a full night’s sleep.

  Bea patted her on the shoulder and ushered her inside.

  “You go on ahead and get cleaned up and get some shut-eye, darlin’. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”

  Of course. The family ‘things’. How could she have forgotten already? Only a few hours ago, that had been the biggest mystery in Elena’s life. Now she had a knight in shining armor — or a cloak of darkness, rather — to wonder about as she drifted to sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Benny

  From the cover of the cypress, Benny watched the girl all the way back to the safety of her aunt’s home. He didn’t know why he did it. Didn’t know why he’d done anything he’d done the past day.

  Fighting with his brother wasn’t like him. Storming out even less so. Venturing through the swamp in daylight hours was unheard of. And then there was her.

  The moment he’d heard her cry for help, something stirred within him. He’d heard plenty of people lost and afraid in the swamp in his years, but none had called to him quite the same way.

  The danger was real. Even in the darkness, one stray bolt of lightning, one surprise flashlight, would be enough to destroy the shroud of night he relied on for protection. It was reckless
and stupid to get involved. To speak to someone was beyond stupid. And she’d come so close to touching him.

  Ben could still smell the lingering spicy sweet combination of cinnamon and vanilla that tickled his nostrils when she was near.

  It was stupid and dangerous and his brother would probably kill him, but Benny was already trying to figure out a way to see her again.

  As he lumbered his way home, his throbbing shoulder was a constant reminder of his encounter with the buxom blonde beauty. Not that he needed a reminder. Her look of gratitude was etched into his memory, something immediately treasured and stored away for the future. He knew he couldn’t see her again, but another part of him — one more irrational and demanding — knew that he would.

  The unfamiliar pick-up truck parked outside of his house reminded Ben about his unwanted guests and he groaned.

  “Don’t mind me—” he muttered, walking through the front door, planning to ignore all of the unwelcome people crowding his little house.

  A shrill shriek drew his attention.

  An unfamiliar redhead stared at him with wide-eyed terror, visibly shaking and having difficulty catching her breath.

  “It’s here! Kill it!” she breathed to the man at her side: Brock Silvanus.

  “You’re in its house,” he grumbled, glaring at Tucker, “so maybe you shouldn’t be killing anyone?”

  “Hailey,” Brock whispered, stroking the redhead’s spine gently, “it’s okay. He’s not the one that attacked you.”

  Her cerulean gaze flitted from her mate to her best friend. Gabi nodded.

  “Benny’s not dangerous. He’s harmless,” she said.

  Ben rolled his eyes, “If we’re all done talking about me like I’m not here…” he retreated to the kitchen, ignoring Tucker’s plaintive cry of ‘Benny…’ as he banged pots and pans around the cabinets without any real purpose.

  Hailey seemed to accept his presence as benign and they continued their discussion. Ben only half-listened.

  “... I was talking to my dad about the first reported sighting…” Gabi said as he pulled out a stack of bowls and measuring cups, setting them down on the counter, hard.

  “... grandpa’s journal suggests…” Hailey said a minute later, her voice soft as she still watched him out of the corner of her eye.

  “...Nora and the beast may be…” Tucker said, but the rest of his sentence was lost to the sound of shattering egg shells as Ben started mixing his ingredients.

  Normally, he’d be as invested in the hunt for a rogue sasquatch — or any sasquatch other than him — as any of them. But not tonight. Tonight, he was preoccupied. Still thinking about the woman whose image he couldn’t wipe from his mind.

  She wasn’t scared of him. Didn’t flinch at the sight of him. Of course it had been dark, he mused, measuring flour carefully. He’d been careful to stay in the shadows. She didn’t know. Couldn’t know. It was best that way. He needed to forget her. Forget the protective urges that rose within him at the first sight of her. Forget the sweet look of gratitude that tugged at his heart. Forget any thoughts of seeing her ever again…

  His world — his social life — rested in this room of misfits. And they didn’t even all want him.

  Ben slid the coffee cake into the pre-heated oven and gave his furry arms a forlorn look and a sigh. It had been a long time since he’d had the thought. He’d given up on it years and years ago. But now it resurfaced once more, bubbling to the top of his consciousness and filling him with what he knew to be false hope. A thought of reversing his curse. Regaining his humanity. Being normal.

  What would normal even be like anymore? He wasn’t sure he’d recognize it. The coffee cake’s strong vanilla scent made his eyes flutter close on a wistful sigh. He might not recognize normal, but he could sure as hell try.

  Chapter Four

  Elena

  The next morning, Aunt Bea greeted Elena with a big breakfast, her cheery ever-present smile, and a whole lot of excitement.

  “What’s all of this about, Bea?” Elena asked, shoveling her aunt’s amazing home fries into her mouth by the shovelful.

  Bea practically bounced on the other side of the kitchen table, “It’s time you finally learn some things about yourself. Your parents never wanted me to tell you — maybe they thought it would go away — but you’re old enough now and it’s time you know. It’s your birthright.”

  Elena’s fork clattered to the table.

  “What are you talking about? Time I know what? What would go away? You’re not making any sense.”

  Aunt Bea reached across the table and patted Elena’s hand with her own wrinkled one, “You’re very special Lainey. You may not know it now, but if you open yourself to it, you’ll see it.”

  Elena sighed and smeared some wildberry jam on her toast.

  “Yeah, that’s not making any more sense, Bea.”

  “Look at me, Elena,” the old woman instructed.

  Elena frowned, “I am looking at you.” Her aunt never seemed to age. She’d always been an old woman, but she still looked exactly as Elena recalled in even her earliest memories. Full chubby cheeks, a wide smile and a twinkle in her hazel eyes all gave Bea an almost cherubic look. Full of energy, radiant with joy and never without a kind word.

  “Really look, Lane,” she prodded again.

  Elena squinted and stared at her aunt, feeling foolish. Then, for a moment the image before her changed. Flickered. He aunt’s familiar features were replaced with those of a gaunt ancient crone.

  Elena shook her head. It was too early for these cryptic puzzles.

  “What exactly am I supposed to be looking at?”

  Bea answered with a gentle smile and stood from the table, patting Elena on the shoulder reassuringly, “We’ll get there. Just keep trying.”

  Elena didn’t have the faintest clue to what her aunt was talking about. She didn’t know what the woman wanted from her and she was beginning to resent giving up an actual vacation for what amounted to a riddle.

  She opened the front door and tripped over something — a cellophane-wrapped cake topped with a bow. Elena stooped to pick it up, looked around for the presence of another person or a note of some kind, and eventually took the treat inside with a bewildered look on her face.

  “What’s that?” Bea asked.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. Do you normally have sweets delivered to your doorstep?”

  Bea shook her head and took the cake from Elena, unwrapping it gingerly before giving it a hearty sniff.

  “I haven’t ever before,” she answered, whipping out a pair of plates for them.

  “We can’t eat it,” Elena said, horrified as her aunt cut two generous slices.

  “Honey, that’s what cakes are for!”

  Elena frowned, “But we don’t even know where it came from. It could be poisoned!”

  Bea chuckled, “Who would go through all the trouble of baking a cake to poison an old woman? This is a gift honey. Enjoy it.”

  Elena wasn’t sure. People in the city didn’t just leave gifts like this for one another. Not without some ulterior or nefarious motive.

  Still, the cake smelled heavenly even with her stomach full of Bea’s hearty breakfast.

  Bea rose a good point, though. Who would go through the trouble?

  At the first bite, Elena’s eyes closed with a moan.

  “Okay, if it’s poison, it’s worth it,” she said.

  Aunt Bea chuckled and they enjoyed their cake in amiable silence.

  The next morning, another pastry appeared. This time it was cinnamon rolls, still warm when Elena found them shortly after sunrise.

  Aunt Bea greeted her with a knowing grin as Elena carried the newest gift inside.

  “Looks like you may have found yourself an admirer,” she teased, pouring them each a cup of rich dark tea to accompany the sweets.

  Elena tried to mask her confusion. An admirer? She’d never had anything of the sort. Her city sensibilities w
ouldn’t allow her to let the mystery go unsolved. People didn’t just leave things on a stranger’s doorstep without a reason.

  As she took the first bite of the icing-covered roll and groaned in pleasure, Elena’s mind was made up. She had to know who was leaving these gifts. Even if it meant staying up all night to catch him in the act.

  That night, after another confusing conversation with Bea about ‘really looking’ at things, Elena set herself up by the front window that overlooked the porch. She didn’t want to spook her admirer, but she had to know who it was — and why he was leaving her baked goods.

  As the hours creeped by, Elena felt her eyelids grow heavy. She struggled to stay awake with the constant lullaby of cicadas and bullfrogs as her only company.

  Maybe the swamp wasn’t all that bad. She’d never be able to enjoy a quiet peaceful night like this back in Tampa — the city was full of sirens and traffic. There was too much light too, she’d never been able to fully appreciate just how many stars filled the night sky with all the ambient pollution.

  The first rays of morning light tickled the horizon and Elena found it even more difficult to force her eyes to stay open.

  Just a little longer… she told herself, sure that the unknown baker would show.

  Brilliant shades of pink and orange caressed the early dawn clouds and at the very edge of the densely packed trees, Elena saw movement.

  Her breath caught in her throat. Even though she was inside she was afraid to make a noise, to move, to breathe. He moved towards the house with a clumsy stride, like his legs didn’t fit the rest of his body.

  Through a small opening in the curtains, she observed him and a moment later, she earned his attention in turn.

  Chapter Five

  Benny

  He’d come so close with this recent batch of snickerdoodles. They had a near perfect balance of sweet, buttery richness and cinnamon. Every day he’d gotten a little closer to capturing the essence of his damsel from the woods, but nothing was able to fill him with a sense of belonging — and longing — like she had.