Secrets of the Sleeper: True Nature Series: Book One

by Karen Lynn Bennett

  “No, no! Please be okay. I can’t lose you, too!” I pressed my face into its warm fur. It felt so good. “Please,” I urged. A soft glow outlined the wolf, its fur swaying to an unknown breeze. And then its eyelids lifted and its jaw widened.

  Tears of happiness trickled down my cheeks as I darted a quick smile over to Zander. But Zander was reaching inside his waistband, causing the gray wolf to leap toward him.

  This snapped my wolf out of its weakened state. Moving like a blur, it leaped toward the gray wolf just as a shot rang out, followed by a painful whine. The gray went down, but only for a second. It was bleeding, but the injury wasn’t stopping him. Zander had some kind of gun in his hand and was preparing to shoot again. However, now both wolves were coming at him, from opposite sides.

  “No!” I yelled at him. It just seemed wrong to hurt these creatures. I jumped up and was at his side in a second, pulling down his arm. My wolf immediately blocked the gray one, who snapped back at it. Just then, tires screeched to a stop in the street and a car door slammed. Running feet headed toward the gate.

  The two wolves growled, their heads lowering. Zander’s brother burst through the entrance. In a move that looked practiced, both wolves circled us in opposite directions, bounded onto the garbage cans against the back of the fence, and disappeared into the next yard.

  Zander’s brother continued into the backyard until he loomed over us, a gun in his hand.

  “What happened?” he barked. Not “what was that?” or “are you all right?” or even “did you get the license plate number?” He seemed remarkably calm for the situation. When he looked around at me, he did a double-take.

  “What are you doing here?” G.I. Joe brother gasped at me. Now what did I do?

  Zander scoffed and rolled his eyes. “She lives here, doofus. This is Tru, the one I told you about,” he said, turning to check out my arm. His brother pulled himself together with a shake, still peering at me warily.

  “About time you got here,” Zander threw at his brother angrily. “I thought you were supposed to be just around the corner!”

  “I was. And you seem to be just fine.”

  “Yeah, I’m okay, but Tru’s not. Here, let me see that.” Zander turned my arm over while I scowled at their confusing conversation. I had completely forgotten about my knife wound. In fact, my arm didn’t hurt anymore. I allowed him to examine it. He ran his fingers over the wound area. Streaks of blood were still drying, and the cut had closed up, just a puckered line remaining.

  “What?” I gasped. Zander’s forehead was creased in perplexity. “What’s going on?” I asked. “You saw it, didn’t you? It was bleeding just a second ago!” I dropped down to the grass, holding my arm. “What’s happening to me?” I said quietly to myself. But they both heard me.

  “I’m not sure. But you seemed to know that wolf.”

  “Are you kidding me? I didn’t know wolves got that big!”

  Zander stared dubiously at me for a moment and then threw up his arms before walking over to his brother, who was climbing a ladder he’d found at the side of the house, to peer over the fence.

  Zander paced back and forth furiously, telling his brother what had happened. I followed his movements, stunned by the developments of the past—how long had it been? Seconds, minutes, hours? It was a slice out of time, out of reality. Like a dream.

  “You know what I have to do,” his brother stated, stepping down from the fence.

  Zander stopped in front of his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. “No. It doesn’t always work right. You could hurt her.”

  “Zander, if she’s human, she can’t know about this stuff. If she’s Idimmu, well, it won’t matter anyway…” He drifted off, running a hand through his blond hair.

  Okay, I might have been in shock, but I was not stupid. Two giant-sized wolves had really been in my backyard. Zander could leap over tall fences like a freaking superhero. My arm had just healed itself. And big brother didn’t know if I was human or something else, and he wanted to do something to me that Zander didn’t want him to do, which, by the way, might hurt me. I did what most logical people would do in these situations—I ran. My plan: Lock myself inside, dial 911, have a panic attack.

  I made it inside the house, but a boot stopped the door from closing. I looked up from the black obstruction and into his face. Dark brown eyes glared at me, as if I were the one trying to break into his house and do God-only-knows-what to him. He squinted fiercely at me. It knocked me back—no, he hadn’t touched me, but my head suddenly slammed with pain. I fell backward on the kitchen floor, grabbing my head and moaning.

  “Stop it, Peter! Damn it! Stop it. Now!”

  I barely made out Zander leaning over me, the pain blurring my vision. It felt like a knife was stabbing into my brain, like my eyes were bleeding and rolling into the back of their sockets. Suddenly all I could see was blackness, but I heard a scuffle and glass breaking before I passed out.

  Reality Shift

  I don’t think I was unconscious for more than a few seconds, because Zander and his brother were still in my kitchen, and they were arguing pretty loudly. I remember seeing a similar situation on TV—some wildlife show about armadillos. Basically, play dead and the bad guy will leave; play dead and maybe I’d find out what was really going on.

  “What part of NO did you not hear!” yelled Zander. Something large thumped roughly against the cupboards. I hoped it was G.I. Joe’s head. Whatever he had done to me, well, I was still feeling the aftershocks, like little bolts of electricity through my brain. I wanted to hold my head between my hands, but I didn’t want to move and gain their attention.

  “Stand down, Zander!” his brother ordered. “This is protocol! We don’t leave witnesses. Ever. What’s with you?”

  “You could have killed her, you idiot! And she may be more than we think!”

  “She’s fine, man, I promise. Back off, would you?”

  A pause. It was so tempting to look, but I kept my eyes shut.

  Finally, Zander spit out, “Fine! But how do you know she’s okay?”

  “Just check her pulse, Sherlock.”

  Warm fingers pressed against my neck. I panicked for a second, and I prayed that I wouldn’t give myself away with a frantic pulse. The hum between us sent me warm waves and soothed my headache.

  “She’s okay,” sighed Zander. “I’m going to move her to the couch in the other room.” Strong arms lifted me and I felt weightless for a few seconds before being pressed against the couch cushions. A gentle hand brushed the hair out of my face.

  “Now what do we do?” asked Zander.

  “We don’t do anything. You shouldn’t even be here. You are going to be in enough trouble as it is.”

  “Then don’t tell them.”

  A frustrated sigh.

  “But if we find Dubois, we’ll be forgiven anything,” said Zander. “First things first. What happens with Tru now?”

  “She shouldn’t remember what happened here.”

  “Okay. Is she going to remember we had a study date today?”

  My heart leapt at the word “date.” He had considered it a date! My stomach fluttered in response. What was I thinking? First of all, had I forgotten Isaac? And second of all, something weird was happening, and I could not afford to be distracted by a “study date” or a cute boy—scratch that—make that a mysterious, gorgeous boy who carries a gun in his pocket and has a brute for a brother. I had to figure things out, and I’d play along with whatever story they required for now.

  “Date, huh?”

  “Uh, no, man! It’s not like that! It’s my cover!” defended Zander.

  My blood began to boil. Jerk, I thought.

  “Okay. But you have to stay focused,” admonished his brother. “I think Father is right. You are still too young for this stuff.”

  “You know I’m not.” Zander sounded like he was gritting his teeth.

  “Whatever. She probably won’t remember, but I’m not sure.
It happened really fast and you messed up my concentration when you started beating on me. Seriously! What is wrong with you?”

  “You deserved it. And she better not have permanent damage,” Zander growled.

  “Stow it, Zander.”

  Another pause.

  “Fine. So who were the Usemis? You think the brown one looked like Dubois?”

  “Possibly. Looked like her description. Dad never let me be around when she went furry, so I don’t know for sure. I have no idea who the other one is.” He sighed with frustration.

  “What did you learn from your study date?” he almost sneered.

  “Nothing. We were reading here at the table. I was hoping to get some clue about what’s up with her, and suddenly I saw the first one in the backyard. I went to the window to get a better look and noticed it take off over the fence followed by the second one. So I went after them.”

  I could hear Zander pacing beside the couch.

  “You took off after two Usemis in front of her?” Zander’s brother sounded furious. But it didn’t seem to faze Zander.

  “Tru mentioned that she’d seen animal tracks in her backyard. This wasn’t the first time they’ve been here.”

  “Why would they come here? What’s the connection?” mused his brother. “What do you know about this girl? Is it possible she knows them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’ve been in that school for days! Something is definitely going on there.”

  Footsteps paced back and forth beside the couch. Must be Zander.

  “Hey, back there in the yard, you acted like you knew her. What was that about?” asked Zander.

  “Nothing. She just reminded me of someone in Eden, one of Father’s, you know… At first I really thought it was her. They look a lot alike, that’s all. Anyway, I’m just wondering if there’s a connection between the two.”

  “Who are you talking about? I’ve never seen anyone who looks like her.” Zander’s pacing had stopped.

  “Some Idimmu Dad has in the lower levels. I forgot you don’t have clearance.” I could hear the scorn in his voice. “Anyway, she’s one of his special projects.”

  “Tru lives here with her father. Her mother is the one who died last year in that car accident Father was so excited about,” said Zander.

  At this point, I wondered if I had fallen asleep. Maybe I was dreaming, because this had all the characteristics of a nightmare. With the hand wedged between the couch and me, I pinched myself. No, not dreaming. Zander and his brother were still discussing strange creatures like they were real. I had watched plenty of supernatural movies—what teenager didn’t—and I could put two and two together as well as the next person. They were talking about werewolves. But that was just silly. Yet, how else could I explain those wolves in my backyard?

  “We know Dubois was here last year.” Zander’s brother was talking, his voice slightly higher. “They tracked her to this area and then found her prints all over that hit and run. Then the trail headed out of California and went cold. Any Usemi or Akharu living locally? I need to check the database again. We need to find the connection here.”

  Their conversation faded. I had stopped listening after hit and run. Were they talking about my mother? Was it possible that these guys knew who killed her? No. It was a hit and run, and the police had never found the driver. The car had been stolen, ditched a block away from the accident. It took all my self-control not to jump up and scream at them to tell me who. Who was this Dubois? They were talking about these Usemi like they were people. Who were these guys? And what exactly were they?

  The back door opened.

  “Wait!” said Zander. “What am I supposed to tell Tru?”

  “Nothing. Come with me for now and see what she remembers tomorrow.”

  I could hear Zander gathering up his books and stuffing them into his backpack. How could he just leave after what happened? What a jerk, I thought. The back door shut. A minute later, they drove away.

  I could finally open my eyes. What was I supposed to think? What should I say to Zander tomorrow? Or should I call him tonight? I had no idea what to do. Dad could be coming home soon, but I definitely didn’t want to discuss this with him.

  Ruthie. She always knew what to do. Cradling my head, I got up to rummage through my backpack for my phone.

  “Ruthie. I really need to talk to you.”

  “Yeah, I’m listening, girl,” she responded. Suddenly she screamed, “Get out of here, you little freaks!” I held the phone away from my ear, wincing. “Oh, crap, girl, I didn’t mean you. The raptors were circling again.”

  Her little brothers were constantly terrorizing her. There was nothing more tempting to two curious little boys as a closed door. Personally, I thought they tried to wind her up just to hear her scream. I swear she could almost shatter glass.

  “Ruthie, I need to talk to you face-to-face,” I insisted. “Can you come over now?”

  “What time is it? Umm… It’s almost dinnertime. Mom won’t go for it.”

  “Tell her my dad isn’t home and I need a friend. Tell her I need help with homework. Tell her I tried to dye my hair and messed up royally. Whatever it takes!”

  “Geez, Tru!” Her voice was gentle. “Okay, she’ll never believe the homework one. The hair dye one would work too well—she’d want to come over and help. No, let’s go with option number one. I’m one hell of a good friend, right?”

  I almost sobbed with relief. “Yes, Ruthie. You are the best!”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Crazy

  “So,” mused my best friend, “to sum it all up, you saw two wolves in your backyard that didn’t attack you. You stabbed yourself with a knife, and Zander’s brother did some hocus pocus on your brain to wipe your memory, but somehow it didn’t work.”

  The way she said it, I didn’t believe it either. But I knew it happened. I was tempted to call Zander to confirm, but he didn’t want me to remember, so what was the point? He’d play stupid even if it was the truth.

  “Yeah…” my friend drawled. “Zander would be the hot guy you are not going to Homecoming with because another hot guy already asked you.” She sighed dramatically. “You are so awesome!”

  Ruthie and I were sitting on my bed. I had every window and door locked up tight. And Dad was still not home. I had explained most of it to her—I may have left out the magic healing of my hands at school and the fact that I had felt “connected” to the wolf, but I’d given her more than the overall picture.

  “You don’t believe me,” I stated.

  “Tru,” she started.

  “No, look at my arm!” I held it out. There was still dried blood on it, and a faint red line remained where the knife had stuck me.

  She puzzled over it for a second. “Tru, wounds don’t instantly heal.” She sighed. “I have to say, girl, you’re my best friend, but this is just too crazy.”

  Crazy. With my history, no wonder she doubted me. I probably would, too. Then I remembered the knife. It must still be outside. I grabbed her arm, pulling her off the bed and down the hall to the back door.

  “I think I have proof!”

  “Okay, okay! You don’t have to drag me!”

  “Oh, sorry.” I stopped at the door and ran my hand through my hair. “It’s just that I know you think I’m nuts, and I’m beginning to feel like I really am losing it. But I think the knife is still out in the backyard.”

  Ruthie heaved another long sigh. “All right, at least you aren’t comatose. And honestly, this is pretty imaginative, I must say!”

  I cringed. Yes, last year did seem like I’d been in a coma. I opened the door and led her outside. Just as I had hoped, there was the kitchen knife lying in the grass. It was covered in dried blood.

  “No way!” Ruthie looked horrified as I picked it up and showed her. Real horror, not the supportive pretend stuff I’d been getting up until now.

  “What’s happening, Ruthie?” I asked, desperately.
I looked across the grass at the garden area. “Come here,” I said. “Maybe the footprints are still there.”

  We hustled over and sure enough there were lots of paw prints, too large for an average dog, and they overlapped each other like they had crossed this area multiple times. It made sense because this was near the area of fence they had crossed over.

  “So,” said Ruthie, her eyes wide with fear now, “you said they went over the fence. Did you see what’s on the other side?”

  “No, not yet. But I’m going to.” I handed her the knife and walked determinedly to the ladder Zander’s brother had left near the fence line.

  “What do you see?” asked Ruthie when I had climbed to the top of the fence.

  What I saw was a mess. Our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, were workaholics. They were gone from sunup to late every night. They had never bothered to landscape the backyard, and the already sad-looking grass had been overcome with weeds ages ago. Dirt patches appeared in various places. It looked like they might have used the covered patio in the past because a table sat unused in the center with a covered barbeque tucked under the kitchen window. A section of the back fence bordered the woods where a small creek ran. That must be where the wolves had entered. Our yard backed up against another neighbor’s yard—we were entirely surrounded by neighbors. I looked more closely at the dirt patches. And even though the light was getting dim, I could see the evidence of the wolves—the same tracks were here, and they ran up to the back fence by the woods.

  “It doesn’t look like the Jenkins ever go in their backyard. But I can see some of the same-looking footprints. I think they came in through the woods at the back of their yard.”

  “Holy cow, girl!” she exclaimed. “Wait one fried fish minute! Was it that dog we saw the first day of school?” She was finally putting the pieces together and taking this seriously. I climbed down the ladder and began putting it away. She followed close behind me, looking warily back at the fence.