Bonded to the Pack (Born to be Were)

by Flynn, Donna

“It doesn’t matter what Jake thinks, I can do what I want.” In actuality, Jake had totally ignored her when she told him that she was not going to the bonfire after the game. He assumed, as he always did, that he could convince her to forget her own plans and go along with his, but she was not going to tell Hunter that. It would only give him more fuel to pick on her.

  “Really? I thought you followed all of the other sheep who worship the football god, but I guess I might have been wrong.” With that final insult he walked away, leaving her sputtering for an answer, satisfied he had gotten the upper hand. Once he reached his porch, though, he turned and watched her storm across the lawn then up the steps to her house. Instead of his normal feeling of satisfaction, he felt only regret. Despite everything, he stilled cared for her, still thought of her all the time, still wondered what it would be like to kiss her and take her out on a date. Hope was special, different, and he had yet to find another girl who made his heart beat as fast it did when she was around, or make him so crazy for her attention that he purposely got into fights just so she would notice him.

  Her front door slammed, bringing him out of his musings, and he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Kara to break their date, thankful her voice-mail picked up so he would not have to argue with her. “Hey, Kara, I forgot I had something to do tonight, you go on ahead and have fun without me, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” He hung up, resigned to breaking up with her the next day, and walked into his house.

  *****

  Hope was furious as she entered her house after her encounter with Hunter. Her body shook as she stormed through the foyer, then up the stairs, her feet stomping loudly on the wood floors as she stalked toward her bedroom. How he so easily manipulated her was beyond her comprehension. He had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her, but like a stupid fool, she kept praying he would change his mind, that somehow they would return to the close friendship they had shared as children. It was entirely stupid; they were now two such very different people. Where she was light and witty, he was dark and sullen; her friends were popular, his were decidedly not; she was a cheerleader and role model for other students, and he spent so much time in detention that he had his own assigned seat. He was difficult, rude, and entirely too judgmental where she was concerned, and yet despite all of that she still cared for him. He was still the same boy who had given her a half-crushed daisy for Valentine’s Day when they were six, helped her off the pavement when she fell off her first bike, and held her hand in the hospital when she had broken her arm falling from a tree that he had challenged her to climb. They shared a history and even if he were willing to throw it all away, she was not. Her heart just wouldn’t let her.

  With a sigh, she tossed her things on the bed, and walked to the vanity table to do her hair and makeup for the game that night. A crystal necklace hanging on the side of the mirror gained her attention as the last rays of sunlight filtering through the window hit its facets, creating a rainbow of light around the room. Instantly she was reminded of the vibrant woman who had once worn it. Her grandmother had been her favorite person in the world. She had been loving, caring, and always ready to give a hug or a word of encouragement when warranted and sometimes even when it wasn’t. She had been a wonderful grandparent and her ability to communicate with the dead had made her the perfect ally for a child who didn’t understand why she could see what other people did not. From the time Hope could talk, spirits would come to her for help or just to have someone they could talk to. Her parents laughed it off as childish imagination when she had told them about their visits, but her grandmother secretly encouraged her to listen and help the spirits that came to her.

  After the incident with Hunter’s grandmother, though, everything changed. Her grandmother, although upset she had used her necromancy in such a careless manner, had hugged her close when she had arrived at the cemetery that night and told her that she would take care of everything. After settling Hunter’s grandmother back into her grave, she made her promise never to use her gifts for her own selfish reasons again, and after what had happened, she had willingly agreed.

  Shortly afterward, her grandmother had a stroke and had to be placed in a hospital. For days, she babbled on about demons and vampires incoherently, experiencing violent seizures that depleted her body of life and led to her eventual death. Her last words to Hope had been an apology for not protecting her. She counseled her to let go of the past and claim her destiny as a Necromancer when the time was right, but Hope had yet to find the courage to accept her abilities and doubted she ever would. Letting the crystal go, she turned away, wondering if her grandmother was disappointed in her. Looking toward the heavens, she mouthed, “I’m sorry” before turning away to get ready for the game.

  *****

  By the time the buzzer sounded ending the football game later that night, Hope’s throat hurt from cheering, her head ached from the loudness of the fans, and she just wanted to get home. The entire night she had felt anxious and uneasy. Her body became chilled, and her heart rate had picked up considerably the moment she had walked onto the field, signs that made her aware of a paranormal presence in the area. With so many people in attendance, though, she had a hard time trying to find the source of her unease, which to her was a good thing, since she tried to avoid spirits like the plague.

  With trembling hands she packed her gear, keeping a sharp eye for any of the deceased who might be lurking nearby. Thankfully none of her friends seemed to notice her distracted state. The fact they had won the game and everyone was loudly celebrating helped to hide her unusual quietness, for which she was extremely thankful.

  “Hey, babe, you ready to go to the lake?” Jake asked, throwing his arm around her shoulders as she turned to walk off the field. He nuzzled her neck despite the large crowd around them.

  He had become more demanding of late, wanting more from their relationship than she was willing to give, and when his hand dropped down to squeeze her butt under her skirt she knew she had to break up with him, the sooner, the better. She slapped his hand away with a dark look, but he just smiled as if he did nothing wrong and pulled her closer. “I told you this afternoon that I have a project to work on this weekend,” she said with a frustrated sigh.

  “Work on the project tomorrow, tonight we need to celebrate.” He pulled her close and she wrinkled her nose, the smell of the dirt and sweat from his uniform making her ill. “Come on, babe, what’s a party without the captain of the football team and the cheerleading squad?”

  “I think everyone would survive it if I didn’t show up. Besides, you are the hero of the moment, you don’t need me there.”

  “That is true, but I thought maybe we could go to the boat house later and spend some time alone.” He pushed her against the wall outside of the girls’ locker room, his muscular arms on either side of her blocking her in as he lowered his head to kiss her.

  “Sorry, you’ll have to go it alone,” she murmured, ducking quickly under one beefy arm, slipping into the girls’ dressing room, ignoring his pleas to come back.

  Once inside she quickly grabbed her bag from her locker, peeked out of the back entrance, found no one there, and slipped outside. She ran behind the school and across the empty soccer field to the main street through town, then allowed herself to slow down and set a slower pace.

  It was an enjoyable walk. The moon overhead was full, giving her ample light to see by and the soft fall breeze felt good on her skin after a long night of cheering. It wasn't until she got close to the local cemetery that she felt the first stirrings of misgiving about her plan. Sensing her presence, as the dead always did when she was near; the graveyard came to life beside her. Ghosts of varying sizes and ages appeared, hovering over gravesites and watching her closely, looking for any sign of recognition. Hope was used to it: she had learned long before that if she ignored them they would usually leave her alone, but one particular spirit dressed in a long wedding gown was not so easily deterred.

  The
tragic young female followed her progress steadily, pleading with Hope to find her husband, appearing in front of her, waving her misty hands in her face trying to get her attention despite Hope's continued silence. Hope forced herself to walk through the spirit’s cool ectoplasm instead of skirting it, which would assure the spirit she had seen it. The woman screamed in defeat then turned away, slipping inside of the fence, her loud sobs filling the night air.

  Guilt immediately washed over Hope as it always did when she denied her ability with the dead, but she lifted her shoulders and kept walking, assuring herself that she was doing the right thing. She had no idea how to help the spirits that haunted the world around her; it wasn't as if she had a handbook on how to ease their suffering and her old fears kept her from trying, anyway. Still the guilt ate at her as she moved swiftly past the old stone wall and wrought-iron barrier that enclosed the cemetery. She prayed silently that they would go away, that her powers would just disappear, but as always they remained, and the power she possessed drew them to her, whether she acknowledged them or not.

  A loud grating noise, out of place in the cemetery where only the dead dwelled, caught her attention. Without thinking, she looked into the cemetery, seeing clearly the withered, transparent forms that lingered amongst the tombstones and monuments that marked their burial places. “Mistake, Hope, move quicker,” she whispered. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched. She forced herself to look once again through the Gothic-style fence, praying it was only a spirit who had learned to manipulate their surroundings, but instead of an apparition, she saw a dark shadowy form creep out from behind a large crypt, moving swiftly in her direction. The shape was imposing, tall, dark, solid, and it was moving faster than any spirit she had ever seen. With a startled cry she turned and ran, her feet barely touching the ground as she sailed past the rest of the cemetery grounds, leaving its haunting reminders of the dead behind her.

  Once past the cemetery she chanced a glance behind, finding the dark form still followed. Her feet found purchase on the old, cracked cement and she ran as fast as she could go, but even with her increased speed, it grew closer. She heard a voice in her head commanding her to stop and gasped loudly, unsure exactly what she was dealing with. Ghost, demon, or human. She was determined to out-run whatever it was that chased her, so she ignored the commands and continued on her course.

  The wind picked up suddenly, rustling the massive oak trees she passed and showering the ground with their leaves, making it difficult to keep her footing. She slipped more than once, but miraculously managed to stay upright and avoid serious injury. As she turned onto the street that led to her house she felt as if she might pass out from exhaustion, but then the wind ceased as suddenly as it had started, and the presence seemed to back off, which allowed her to slow her pace. As she walked up the pathway to her house, she took another quick look behind, but to her surprise found nothing out of the ordinary. The night was calm, no unusual noises or shadows lurked anywhere near the path she had just come from, and everything seemed peaceful.

  “Weird,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her midsection, wondering if her imagination was playing tricks on her. It was, after all, dark outside, and she had passed the cemetery, which always made her nervous given the fact she could see and hear the residents there. There was also the fact she was already on edge because of the weird feelings she had earlier at the football game, so it stood to reason that she might have over-reacted to something that was not actually supernatural at all.

  She was laughing at herself for such foolishness when the familiar sound of Hunter’s porch swing creaking in the calm night air alerted her she was not alone. Quickly she changed course and began to walk in his direction, wondering if he had seen anything amiss. He watched without comment as she moved across the porch then settled next to him on the swing, his dark green eyes moving over her with seeming disinterest.

  “Did you see anything odd just now?” she asked, placing her bag on the ground before turning to face him.

  “Just you running like a mad-woman,” he replied with a shrug. “Why are you here anyway, Jake couldn’t talk you into going out tonight?”

  “He tried, but I told him that I had to work on my project. How come you’re not out with Kara?”

  “I had something else I needed to do.” He didn’t want to admit that he had been at home all night listening to his cell phone ring repeatedly, letting his voice-mail deal with Kara’s repeated rants of displeasure, so he lied.

  “Oh,” she murmured, leaning forward to adjust her legs under herself, just as he leaned closer to grab his cell phone so she would not see the number of missed calls from Kara on the screen. Heads bumped, hands reached out for support, and they found themselves in a precarious position that left their limbs intertwined, and their lips only centimeters apart.

  “Sorry,” he whispered huskily, wanting to kiss her more than anything, he had ever wanted in his life. It was foolish, stupid, and could lead to nowhere, but he was feeling reckless in light of the crappy evening he’d been having so far.

  “It's all right,” she whispered, a soft sigh escaping her as his lips brushed hers, softly at first, tentatively, until with a groan he pulled her against him to savor that which he had longed for most of his teenage life. Hope became lost in his embrace, her feelings jumbled about the kiss they were sharing. On one hand, it felt nice to have him kiss her, but on the other, there were so many complications that kiss could bring to their strained relationship! Before Hope could over analyze it a shrill scream filled the air, and she pulled back. Her eyes instantly moved to the source of the sound, finding Kara standing on the top step of the porch, her face filled with fury, her fists clenched at her sides as she stared at them with unconcealed rage.

  “Now I know why he did not want to go out with me tonight! What is it with you, Hope Lancaster, isn’t one guy enough for you?” She turned to face Hunter and began screaming louder. “And you! I thought you cared for me, how could you do this to me? You told me over and over you didn't have feelings for her, yet here you are making out with her after ditching me for the night.” Hunter did not acknowledge her; he just continued to look at Hope with puzzlement and her face darkened. “Do you really think I am going to let you ignore me?” She appeared at his side, slapping him across the face, but her hand moved through his cheek instead of stopping against the flesh there, leaving her gasping in surprise. “What the hell?” She tried again, only to meet the same end. “What is happening?” she screeched, holding up her hand to examine it.

  Hope saw the house through her palm and knew the night had taken a turn none of them would ever forget. She looked to Hunter, torn by the decision she had to make. Ignore Kara and pretend her spirit wasn’t there, or tell him and face losing him forever. It would have been so easy to take the first option, but she had to ask herself did she want him that way? Even if she decided yes, could she live with herself after such a deception? The answer was a resounding no, so she forced herself to begin the conversation she knew would end any chance of their ever being together. “We need to talk,” she said solemnly.

  “Yeah, I get it, you and me, we are not a good idea,” he said interrupting her attempts to explain why she had pulled away. “You’re probably right. I don’t know if I can ever forget or live with what you can do, so it’s a good idea to end this now, don’t you think?”

  She was hurt by his casual dismissal of their encounter, but knew dealing with Kara was far more important. “We have bigger problems than us right now.” She looked to Kara, who was still staring at her hand in disbelief and felt her heart ache at the thought of how her next words were going to affect him.

  He began to pace, walking directly through Kara’s ghostly form, which had the spirit screaming in outrage and glaring at Hope as if she were somehow responsible.

  “You should go home. I can’t deal with this, not now and maybe not ever,” he said running his hand through his hair in frustration. Kissing her had felt
so right at the time, but now that he was able to focus on all the reasons they were at odds in the first place, he knew it had been a bad idea.

  “I really can’t leave right now,” she told him, looking at Kara sympathetically. They might not have been friends or even liked one another, but she would have never wished for anything bad to happen to her.

  “Go and find your boyfriend, Hope, he’s perfect for you, good-looking, popular, and completely clueless about what you can do. I can’t be that guy.” He grabbed the door handle and began to pull it open, but Hope placed her hand on the frame and held it closed.

  “It isn’t my boyfriend who is here is with us right now.” She glanced behind him to Kara who was crying loudly, gazing at Hunter with agonized eyes. “When was the last time you talked to Kara?”

  If you enjoyed this excerpt and want to read more “Necromancy for Beginners” is available now on Kindle.