“I’m so sorry, Jean,” Raff said. “Drake was a great man. He’ll be missed.”
Jean nodded, struggling to fight back tears. I figured she was Drake’s wife. “Hell of a thing,” she finally said.
“This is Charlie. She was here for the meeting.”
Jean nodded again but without enthusiasm, and let us inside. The foyer’s coat rack was overflowing with jackets and dozens of pairs of shoes were piled near the shoe bench. Somewhere deeper into the house, the owners of all these coats and shoes could be heard talking and making noise. I stooped to untie my Doc Marten’s, while Raff slid off his orange chucks.
Jean went down the hall without waiting, but we quickly followed. The kitchen was massive, with an island big enough that it was nearly the size of my whole kitchen. People were gathered around it chatting and drinking beers and sodas, or sitting at the table or in the living area that was adjacent. The island and table were both covered in casserole dishes and plates of baked goods and veggie trays from the grocery store. “Help yourself to anything,” Jean said, before taking a seat on the sofa next to a woman who put an arm around her shoulder.
Holly stood by the island and stopped mid-sentence to throw her good arm around me. Her other arm was in a homemade cloth sling. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, finally pulling back and letting go.
“Me? You’re the one who’s hurt. What happened?” I asked.
Holly glanced toward Jean, across the room but still within earshot, especially because werewolves tended to have better than average hearing. Not satisfied with the lack of privacy, Holly ushered us through another hall that wound around to the foyer and up the staircase to the second floor.
She closed us into a guest room—or I assumed it was a guest room, as it had a neatly made bed covered in a blue quilt complete with decorative pillows and two empty end tables, with no signs of any personal belongings.
Holly sat on the edge of the bed.
“What happened?” Raff asked, repeating my question.
Holly let out a breath. “Drake and I went to get bagels and coffee for everyone. We were hanging out trying to formulate a plan for how to handle this hunter situation and Drake and I figured we could use a break. There’s a great bagel place not too far from here. On the way back, I noticed we were keeping pace with a blue van, but I figured it was just one of those things, you know?”
My heart hammered in my chest as I remembered the blue van that had nearly run me down Friday night.
“Until we turned off at the farm road and they followed,” Holly continued. “That’s when we knew something was wrong. I told Drake to pull over. He kept a shotgun in his car but they…” She shook her head. “They were faster. There were three of them and they pounced. They shot into the car and I got out and ran. One of the hunters, not the guy in your sketch, saw me bolt and tried to tackle me. He hit me in the face with his gun and then slammed me against the ground. I landed on my arm.” She lifted her injured arm slightly. “And then Sasha and Ernie came racing down the road in Sasha’s truck, firing shots of their own. Scared the guys off. They sped off before we could catch any of them. I was lucky, but it was too late for Drake.” Her voice hitched on his name and she sniffled, a few tears sliding down her cheeks. “I don’t know why the guy didn’t shoot me, but it’s lucky he didn’t. They were using silver bullets.”
Raff bristled. Silver was deadly to werewolves. Even being shot in the arm with silver could give our kind silver poisoning and that would slowly kill us.
“It’s a miracle you’re okay,” Raff finally said, moving toward her and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
I was frozen. “It’s my fault.”
Both of them looked at me. A small crinkle appeared between Raff’s eyes.
“The blue van almost hit me on Friday night, when you dropped me off at home,” I said. “I didn’t think much of it, but after the shooting, I thought it might have been the hunters, following us from here. I should have said something. If I’d warned everyone to be wary of a blue van…”
“Charlie, it’s not your fault,” Holly said. “Even if you had warned us, we would have had to stop and confront them. There was nothing any of us could do.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, too.
“If you’d been ready for an attack, you could have done something different. Drake might still be alive,” I said.
Holly looked like I’d slapped her, but the stricken expression didn’t last long. “Maybe. Or if I’d grabbed his gun sooner or if we’d just made drip coffee instead of driving ten miles out. But if I go down that path of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘might-have-beens’, I’m liable to lose my mind. And so are you.”
My mouth went dry. I remembered all of the times I’d aggressively blamed Holly for biting me in her wolf form, even though I knew it hadn’t really been her fault. I’d also lain awake at night wondering what might have happened if I’d waited to visit Damien in public or on a different night, or not at all…
“What we can do,” Raff said, “is learn from this. Now we know there’s at least three of them armed with silver bullets and they drive a blue van. That’s something.”
“I don’t suppose you got a license plate number,” I said, mostly because I was thinking out loud and trying to recall all of the details I could about the van I’d seen. Raff glared at me.
“No,” Holly said. “I was too busy trying to escape.”
I winced, realizing the sheer callousness of my question. I was impatient and a little rude, but not a heartless jerk. “Sorry. I didn’t mean… I just meant… if there’s anything else you remember…”
“There is one thing,” Holly said, so softly that she was hard to hear. “I thought one of them called the guy who jumped me ‘Dave’ or maybe ‘Davis.’ But between the shouting and gunshots, I’m not sure.”
“Dave,” I repeated. I felt like I should know that name, which was absurd, because I don’t think I’d known a Dave since Davie Winters in third grade.
“It’s helpful,” Raff said, smiling encouragingly at Holly. “Every little bit of the puzzle will help us put it together.”
I did my best not to gag on his optimism as we headed back downstairs to rejoin the group.
* * *
I grabbed a wedge of croissant sandwich from a platter. It was filled with ham and cheese, and absolutely delectable, so I quickly grabbed three more. The crowd in the house had grown slightly since we’d gone upstairs and the house felt near capacity, like a fire marshal was going to show up and stop letting people in. I didn’t mind crowds but there was a strange musk in the air, along with thick clouds of grief, and it was starting to get unbearable.
Before I could slip outside for air, Sasha moved to the front of the room and a hush went over the crowd. Raff tapped me on the shoulder from behind. “I’m here,” he whispered.
Like I cared. He could go walk off the face of the earth for all it mattered to me.
Sasha spoke of Drake, telling stories of how they’d first connected in a coffee shop the day before a full moon, when both of them could sense something wolfish in the other. They’d become friends immediately. Jean got up and tried to say something about their wedding but ended up sobbing so hard that a man I didn’t know had to help her sit back down. A few others spoke kind words about Drake and I realized this wasn’t a meeting at all. It was a memorial service.
Suddenly, I felt twice as awkward being there. I hadn’t known Drake. I’d seen the man once and never exchanged so much as a word with him. And yet here I was, eating their croissant sandwiches—even the turkey and Swiss were pretty good and I was not a turkey fan—and taking up space in the midst of their grief.
But after a few more anecdotes and tears, Sasha returned to the front said, “This has been a hard month for all of us. We are being targeted and some of us have been killed. There’s still no sign of Warren or Tyler, who both vanished during the full moon, and now Drake is dead. Holly was injured. And both Dra
ke and Holly were attacked in human form. That means none of us are safe, even now that the moon wanes and we look as human as anyone. So I want to beg you all to please stay in groups, be vigilant, and if you use weapons, carry them with you. Be on high alert. We only have a few warriors amongst our ranks and they’re spread thin.”
There were some murmurs and angry faces at that. I frowned.
“It’s true that in these past decades, the need for such warriors has seemed…unnecessary. But our kind are now under attack and we will do what we can to build our defenses as a pack.”
Applause erupted. Raff, I noted, did not clap or whoop. He merely stood next to me, watchful and wary, like hunters might burst through the sliding glass doors at any moment.
“In the meantime,” Sasha said, raising her voice above the din, “please use caution and care when you’re out in public, make sure you’re not followed home, and lock your doors. These people are dangerous.”
Understatement of the year, I thought. They’d already killed three of us, shot at me, shot Holly… Dangerous wasn’t the word. Deadly was more accurate.
After Sasha finished, a few people stood up and asked everyone to raise a glass. I didn’t have one and neither did Raff, so we got to stand there awkwardly doing nothing. Luckily, we weren’t the only ones.
And then, instead of giving a toast to a fallen comrade, the man at the front of the room howled. And then the room picked up the howl and it became a chorus. The howl was haunting and sad, a song of loss for a man who would not hear it. I thought of Drake’s kind smile, of Jean’s sobs, and felt tears prick at my eyes. I quickly wiped them away and caught Raff watching me with an inscrutable expression on his face.
“What?” I whispered.
He shook his head, saying nothing.
The howling stopped and the party, such as it was, broke into groups. I grabbed another sandwich and a few mini-quiches. Raff ate a few bites, too, which made me feel slightly less weird about it.
“We can’t stay here,” I said.
Holly had come over to join us, and said, “You guys can stay at my place. There’s room on the couch.”
I thought Raff was going to pass out. “I’m not sleeping in close proximity to a leech,” he hissed.
I gaped at him, sure I’d misheard. “Did you say ‘leech’?”
“The vampire is my friend,” Holly said, but far more patiently than I would have.
“Yeah, and he’s dating my friend,” I said, less patiently, “so watch it.”
Raff folded his arms over his muscular chest. He was wearing a new ridiculous shirt, a bright blue one with the black silhouette of a wolf in the center, a black full moon behind it. “Why don’t you ladies crash with me? My house should be easy enough to defend.”
“Yeah, sure, I’d definitely prefer the nerd cave to bunking with a vampire who has preternatural strength,” I said. “That seems like the best decision.”
“She’s right, you know,” Holly said. “Damien is a damned good protector. He’s fast and strong. He scared off the hunters when they shot at Charlie.”
“He’s no good in the sunlight,” Raff said. “And these guys have proven they’re willing to gun us down during the day.”
“Well, you do have a point there,” Holly conceded. “But I’ll take my chances at home. I would, however, love a ride if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course,” Raff said.
“Great, I’ll get my stuff.” Holly trudged back up the stairs. My stuff was still in the trunk of Raff’s car.
“I vote we stay at Holly’s,” I said, just in case he’d missed my preference.
“We’re staying at my place,” he said firmly.
“You aren’t the boss of me.”
“No, but I have a spare room. Better than a le—vampire’s couch. Besides, I know the layout of my place and the creaks and sounds the house makes. I can protect it better than a strange location.”
“So you go home, and I’ll go to Holly’s. Problem solved,” I said.
Raff smiled. “I bet you’d love it if were that easy to be rid of me.”
“I would.”
“Too bad.”
Holly returned with a backpack that Raff immediately took for her, and we all headed to his car for the long drive back to Seattle.
Chapter 11
I spent most of the drive looking for blue vans, but while I spotted a lot of vans and blue SUVs, no blue vans appeared on the road around us. Raff dropped Holly off in front of her building and then idled the car until she made it into the lobby and the security door closed behind her.
Raff drove to his house, which turned out to be in Ballard. It was kind of cute, with a narrow front porch framed with thick square columns. He parked on a strip of driveway next to the house and said, “Stay here. I’m going to make sure it’s clear.”
I waited, scanning the dark streets through the windows and mirrors, while Raff walked the perimeter of his own house like some kind of soldier on a reconnaissance mission. The sidewalks were empty. Lights and televisions illuminated his neighbors’ window coverings, but otherwise, all was quiet. Still, I waited until Raff came back out to get out of the car.
I don’t know what I expected from Raff’s living situation: a messy bachelor pad full of empty pizza boxes and beer cans with video game posters covering the walls, probably. Instead, the living room was immaculate, with a matching sofa and love seat that looked a little old but well-cared for, and a slightly-scratched up wood coffee table in front of the big screen television. He had a few of the same video game consoles as Damien, a vampire who really loved his Playstation. The games were neatly stacked on shelves in the television stand. Behind the living room was a dining table with four wooden chairs, and then the room curved around in a “U” to the kitchen which was at the back of the house. The staircase to the second floor was near the front door. A small bathroom and another room were down a short hall.
“This is nice,” I said, and actually meant it.
“It was my mom’s house,” Raff said. “She moved to Hawaii with her new husband, and I got the house. Pretty sweet deal.”
“For sure.”
“The guest room is upstairs. Come on.” He grabbed my suitcase and carried it up the narrow wooden stairs. I followed and found a guest room with light blue walls. The bed’s duvet was light blue with dots of yellow. The room smelled faintly floral though there were no flowers in sight. “My mom likes spring colors,” Raff said, setting the suitcase near the closet. “I didn’t bother to change it.”
“It’s great,” I said. “Cozy. Reminds of me a bed and breakfast.” Raff titled his head. “Not that I stay at bed and breakfasts or anything, but I’ve seen them on television.”
“Right,” Raff said.
The room was a little smaller than my own bedroom, but as a temporary place to crash, it was awesome. It was on the second floor, which felt safer. The hunters would have a hell of time shooting me through this window. Raff showed me the bathroom down the hall, and pulled out some clean towels for me to use in the morning.
By now, he was a little wobbly on his feet and the bags under his eyes could carry anvils. I yawned just thinking about how tired he must be, because I was exhausted.
“My bedroom is that one,” he said, pointing to a door at the end of the hall. “If you need anything, don’t be shy. There’s not much in the kitchen but Dr. Pepper and condiments, but make yourself at home.”
“Thanks,” I said. It didn’t feel like enough so I added, “Good night,” but that felt insufficient, too.
I brushed my teeth and then pulled on pajamas and climbed into the bed. I was asleep before I had time to think about anything else.
* * *
I awoke to my phone trying to buzz itself off the nightstand. I’d meant to put it on silent, but I guess in my exhausted state, I’d only managed to put it on vibrate. I hit answer because the area code was local and groggily said, “Hello?”
The man’s voice was
one I vaguely recognized which made sense, because he identified himself as my landlord, James Chang. What he said next made no sense so I asked him to repeat it three times. The fourth time, he got fed up and told me I needed to get to the house, that the police had questions for me and Michael.
I hung up, still dazed. It was barely after dawn, the first light of day trying to peek through the blinds. I forced myself out of bed and put on clothes. I grabbed my phone, my whole body tingling, and headed downstairs, where I called Michael.
Michael didn’t answer. I called again. He finally picked up, sounding barely awake. Dawn was bedtime for his boyfriend so he’d probably just gone to sleep. “We need to get home,” I said. “Our house burned down.”
“What?” He was more awake now.
I was trying to wrap my head around the fact myself. It didn’t make any sense. “Mr. Chang called. The police want to speak to us and… I don’t know, I guess we should see what survived.”
“Did you say ‘burned down’?” Michael asked. I heard Damien mumble something in the background.
“That’s what Mr. Chang said. I don’t know what it means. Did we leave the coffee pot on or something?”
“It has an auto shut off,” Michael said. There was a pause in which he had a muffled conversation with Damien. “I’ll meet you there.”
He hung up. I tried to picture our house burned down to the foundation, nothing left but ash and…oh God, and chains. Chains with shackles that would look mighty suspicious without an explanation. My heart pounded like a jackhammer as I tried to figure out how to explain a torn up room with shackles bolted to the wall to cops who would never in a million years believe that I was a werewolf or that werewolves existed.
Raff came downstairs. He wore flannel pajama pants with cartoon bats on them and another tight t-shirt, like he was trying to show off his muscles. “You’re up early. Everything okay?”
Moon Cursed: The Reluctant Werewolf Chronicles, Book 1 Page 7