A Pack of Blood and Lies

by Olivia Wildenstein

  I stopped rubbing my arm and fished my phone out of my bag.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Calling a cab.”

  He gestured to his mammoth-wheeled car. “I got a car.”

  “I make it a point not to get into cars with strangers.”

  “And yet you got in that limo earlier.”

  “That was different.”

  “Get in, Ness.”

  I started scrolling through my cell for the number, but Liam plucked the phone out of my hands. “Hey!”

  “Just get in already.”

  “No.”

  “Look, if you don’t get in, I’ll toss you in.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  A bold smile appeared on Liam’s dusky face. “Do you want to test that theory?”

  I huffed a breath, trod to his car, and climbed in. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”

  He pitched the phone on my lap before I shut the door. As I strapped myself in, he climbed into the driver’s side.

  “Where did the others go?”

  “I don’t keep tabs on my buddies.”

  “Just on me, then?”

  He didn’t answer, but his eyes flashed to mine before settling back on the road.

  “Lucky me,” I grumbled.

  Music drifted from his stereo, punctuating the silence with a heady beat.

  In the darkness, my phone flashed with the agency’s number. I sighed, anticipating the reason for the call. I turned toward the window and answered in a low voice, “Hello.”

  “Candy, is everything all right? I just got a text from Aidan to complain that you’d rushed out on him.”

  “Family emergency,” I grumbled.

  “Oh. Okay. Anyway, hun, he asked for a discount, and since he’s a real good customer, I had to grant it. I hope you understand.”

  “How much less?”

  “Half.”

  I squeezed my fingers around the phone.

  “He was happy with you otherwise. Asked if you’d be interested—”

  “No.”

  “If you change your mind—”

  “I won’t.”

  “Okay then. I’ll wire your wage to your account. Bye, Candy.”

  A deep sigh rattled out of me. I’d sat through an entire dinner, all the way through dessert, but the dude had the gall to haggle. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to pay me. I was incredibly tempted to tell Liam to turn around so I could give Aidan a piece of my mind.

  “How long have you been doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  Liam’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. “Dating for money.”

  “Just this once,” I lied.

  “Do you have debts?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “How much do you owe?”

  I plopped my elbow down on the armrest and cradled my head. “A lot.”

  “A lot is not a number. Fifty grand? A hundred?”

  I blinked at him in horror. “No!” If I owed a hundred grand, I would…I would… God, I didn’t even know what I would do. “Six grand.”

  “For college?”

  “No.”

  “Credit card bills?”

  I huffed. “Past rents. Mom’s funeral. Not everyone has an unlimited supply of money like you.”

  He braked so suddenly my seatbelt dug into my chest. “Ness, can you give me a break? I just lost my father too, all right? I’ve got my own shit to deal with. But I don’t go around being nasty to everyone and debasing myself for a couple of bucks.”

  Shame surged through me.

  He put his hazard lights on and heaved a ragged breath. He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. That came out harsher than intended.”

  He touched my leather sleeve, and I shifted my arm away.

  “Don’t touch me.” I stared at the crimson flashes punctuating the darkness. “Can you please drive me home?”

  “Do you want me to loan you the money?”

  I whipped my head around. “And be in your debt? No thank you.”

  “You’d rather keep doing…?” He gestured to the back of his car, but I knew he meant being an escort.

  “No. I’m going to look for a real job.”

  “Don’t you already have one?”

  I frowned.

  “You’re working at the inn, aren’t you?”

  “They’re not paying me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because. I’m not doing it for me.”

  “Who are you doing it for?”

  “For someone else.”

  He wet his bottom lip that was thinner than his upper one, and it glinted in the darkness. “Do your aunt and uncle know about your debts?”

  “They’re aware of some of them.”

  “And they won’t help?”

  “I would never accept their help.” Jeb offered to loan me the money for the rental payments, but I’d refused. I’d let him foot the bill for the window he’d broken, though. “By the way, they don’t know about what I did tonight, so don’t you dare tell them.”

  “I won’t say anything about your date.” He spoke the word as though it tasted bad. After a long moment, he asked, “Would you have slept with him if he’d paid you extra?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I would never sleep with someone for money.”

  Even though I could barely make out his face in the dim light of his dashboard, I could tell he was weighing my words.

  “Why?” I asked. “Would you?”

  “Sleep with someone for their money?” He let out a soft snort. “Thankfully, I don’t need to resort to that.”

  “I meant, have you ever paid for sex?”

  “No.”

  “Your dad—”

  “I know what my dad did. But just because he did it doesn’t mean I do it.” He made a sound halfway between a growl and a sigh. “I’m nothing like him.”

  “That’s what everyone says. That you’re not like him.”

  “But you don’t believe it?”

  “I like to make up my own mind.”

  He finally angled the car back on the road. “Seems like you already did.”

  My pulse sprang like a livewire inside my veins and knocked against the side of my neck. I almost apologized, but he was a Kolane. He might not be all bad, but he was still the flesh and blood of the man who’d laughed at an eleven-year-old girl in need of guidance and who’d raped a bereft widow after she’d begged him for help.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After an uncomfortably quiet ride home, I left Liam without saying goodbye, my throat and chest too congested with anger and grief.

  I headed straight to my bedroom, to the small terrace with the single Adirondack. I dropped into it and watched the heavy starlight bathing the serrated crowns of the pines.

  Maybe I wasn’t being fair to Liam. After all, his father had been murdered. Not that Heath’s death was my fault. I’d simply gone to his place posing as an escort so that he’d let me in. If I’d gone as Ness Clark, he would’ve turned me away at the door. After playing nice for an agonizing stretch of time, Candy told him she knew what he’d done to Ness Clark’s mother, to Becca Howard, and to a handful of other women, and warned him she was going to press charges. Heath laughed at her.

  At me.

  And so I’d slapped him. Hard. Which turned his dark eyes frosty. But at least he hadn’t shifted, thanks to the crushed pills I’d slipped into his Manhattan. I drugged him, afraid he’d kill me once I revealed my true identity.

  In skin, he was frightening, but in fur, he was a monster.

  When I told him who I was, he growled, “Get…out,” and I got out.

  And someone must’ve gotten in right after me.

  Murdered.

  The eight-letter word iced me. I wrapped my arms tighter around myself and stood to go inside when a howl echoed deep in the night.

  A shadowy shape moved at the edge of the forest—a large black wolf
with glowing eyes. The wolf looked at me across the grassy expanse and howled again, and his howl scattered goose bumps over my forearms, over my entire body. Another deep keening made my muscles spasm and my nails turn into claws.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit,” I whispered, backing into my room.

  I yanked off my jacket, threw off my dress as my torso twitched, and tore my necklace off. Heat engulfed my skin, and then fur—white, silky fur blanketed my burning arms and sprouted over my legs. My thighs hardened and shortened. My teeth sharpened. I felt them with the tip of my tongue that had grown thicker, longer.

  I tried to pull off my underwear, but my hands were paws.

  Paws with sharp claws.

  A bolt of pain hit my spine. I arched and threw my head back as my lips stretched and stretched, like my nose, like my ears. I growled, and it vibrated against my narrow, rubbery muzzle. My bones shifted underneath my skin, my shoulder blades turning in.

  I dropped to my knees hard. The black pads that had replaced my palms absorbed the brunt of my weight. A tail surged from my backbone, shredding my underwear, whipping against my desk and bed. My knee joints cracked, snapping inward, until they became lupine hocks.

  Adrenaline shot down my spine and into my limbs, electrifying every inch of skin, sharpening each one of my senses. I heard conversations from all the way inside the living room. I caught the hoot of an owl, the caw of a raven, the rustle of pine needles. I smelled Lysol and detergent and the green scent of the swaying forest beyond my first-floor balcony. I felt the heartbeat of tiny things—bugs and rabbits and owls.

  I ran toward my open balcony doors, crouched low, and then sprang over the balustrade. I soared through the frizzling night air, body thrumming from the release of the wolf that had lain dormant beneath my human skin.

  I hit the soft grass on all fours, and then I was galloping through the clearing that led to the forest, kicking up clumps of earth and grass. Behind me, on the large terrace, loud gasps and small cries rang out, followed by captivated chatter. I swiveled my head, and sure enough, a handful of bodies were pressed tight against the wooden railing, pointer fingers raised toward my receding form.

  Wolf-watching was an attraction mentioned in the inn’s brochure. Visitors were rarely disappointed.

  I lifted my nose to the wind and sniffed to pick up on the other wolf’s trail, but became distracted by the chitter of a squirrel spiraling up the trunk of a tall cedar. The furball stopped to watch me, its lithe flesh pulsing deliciously beneath the dusting of tawny fur. I’d hunted a squirrel once, had torn through its warm body and crushed its bones in my jaw. I was a sentient beast, but a beast nonetheless.

  I observed the squirrel a while longer, until a new fragrance tickled my senses—sultry and spicy and fresh, like hot musk and crushed mint. I ran toward the scent, my paws kicking up pinecones, my claws digging into moss and clattering against downed logs, splashing into engorged, moon-lacquered streams. I dove into one, rolled on the bank, and then wrung myself out.

  Free.

  That’s what I was…wild and untethered.

  I sprinted. Away from the inn. Away from the girl I’d left behind. The girl weighed down by guilt and debt. I ran until my heart threatened to derail, and still I ran. Only when I passed under a rocky ridge did I slow. The seductive fragrance of mint and musk churned in the air above me. I craned my neck and met the gaze of an impressive black wolf pawing the stone ledge dozens of feet up from where I stood.

  Beneath a cover of matted leaves, a mouse shuffled. I didn’t chase it—mice were more cartilage than meat. The wolf made a soft keening noise that traveled toward me slowly. There were no words in that sound…or perhaps my lupine brain hadn’t yet reawakened to our tongue.

  Was it Liam?

  If it was, had he tracked me, or was it a coincidence that he was there?

  I thought of Heath again before remembering that wolves could read minds, so I sprinted away, the forest smudging into one long strip of wild darkness. Only hours later did the inaccuracy of my memory hit me—wolves weren’t mind readers. They could, however, speak into minds, but only the Alpha possessed that ability, and I had no Alpha.

  My secrets were safe.

  Chapter Fourteen

  On Friday night, my stomach swarmed with butterflies. In less than a day, the first trial would begin…and end. Even though I’d managed to transform, did I stand a chance against wolves that hadn’t been on a shifting sabbatical? I stared around my bedroom, wondering if I should pull the blue Ikea bags back out of my closet. My mother would be ashamed of my defeatist attitude. She was a staunch believer in mind over matter.

  For all the good that did her.

  I crushed her wedding band in my fist as I left my bedroom. On my way to meet Everest, I stopped by the kitchen. Ever since the night Evelyn had curled into bed next to me, and I’d confessed everything to her, we hadn’t spoken about the pack. We’d discussed safe subjects like food and college—she wanted me to apply, but I hadn’t done my SATs. Tonight again, she was on my case about colleges.

  “I have some savings—” she began.

  “No.” I shook my head, and my hair brushed my bare shoulders. “I’m not taking your money anymore. Not unless you let me reimburse you.”

  “Ness…”

  “Have you been to see the doctor?” I gestured to her knees. Lucy had given me the name of her physician, which I’d passed along to Evelyn.

  “My arthritis is better.” She ladled gazpacho into wooden bowls, then topped them with golden croutons, tiny squares of raw vegetables, and a drizzle of olive oil.

  “Really?”

  “Really.” After finishing off the soups and ringing the buzzer to get one of the servers’ attention, she busied herself with making my favorite dish: chicken quesadillas. “You’re getting too skinny.”

  I had lost weight, but I’d gained back some of the muscle I’d lost working two, sometimes three, jobs back in LA. I gobbled up every last golden triangle filled with melted cheese set before me.

  Evelyn checked the order sheet the server had dropped off, opened the fridge, and removed thick slices of creamy salmon which she laid on the already smoking griddle.

  “Who is singing again tonight?” she asked.

  “The Lemons.”

  “Are they good?”

  “They—” The door swung open, cutting off my answer.

  Everest had arrived, but not alone.

  “Frank wanted to meet our new cook,” Everest said.

  Evelyn dropped the metal spatula she’d been using to flip the salmon. The utensil clattered loudly against the tiled floor, festooning her white apron with oil. Ever since we’d arrived, Evelyn had barely strayed out of the kitchen, let alone the inn. She’d never been a particularly outgoing person, but moving to this unfamiliar town had made her downright skittish. And here was my insensitive cousin bringing someone—not just someone, Frank McNamara—into her safe haven.

  Frank bent over to pick up the fallen spatula. “Evelyn, right?”

  She gaped at him as he tendered it to her, but her fingers had balled into fists. He placed it on the island.

  “I forced Everest to introduce me to the new cook. The Clarks are lucky to have found you.”

  Since Evelyn’s feet had become part of the floor, I grabbed a handful of paper towels and wiped the tiles.

  She finally moved, touching my shoulder. “It is okay, Ness.”

  As I straightened up, I raised my eyes to hers. Two pink spots had appeared on her high cheekbones, dimmed by her foundation, but still bright.

  “We better get going,” Everest said, “or we’ll miss the opening act.”

  I waited for Frank to leave.

  Frank’s light-eyed gaze darted my way, then back to Evelyn. Finally, he moved toward the swinging door. “I hope you’ll be staying, Evelyn.”

  Evelyn still hadn’t said a word, but she nodded.

  Frank offered her a demure smile, then left, the door flapping behind him.
<
br />   “Are you okay?” I murmured.

  Evelyn’s lips were slow to unbuckle, but when they did, they arched upward. “I am fine.” She slid a knuckle across my cheek.

  “Ness?” Everest said.

  His voice made the smile wilt off her lips. Where disgust no longer stained the way she looked at me, there was something guarded in the way she observed my cousin. It was as though she couldn’t see him without seeing the beast inside. Would she look at me the same way if she bore witness to my other shape?

  Note to self: never shift in front of Evelyn.

  “Is all of Boulder going to this thing?” I asked Everest as we walked out of the inn and hopped into his convertible Jeep.

  He’d taken off the black fabric roof, and the breeze twisted my hair. I wound it up and clutched the ends so that I didn’t arrive at the music festival looking like I belonged in the band. Mullets and pompadours had been untrendy for years, but it didn’t deter The Lemons from sporting them.

  “You sure you want to go to this thing?”

  “Yeah. I like The Lemons.”

  He side-eyed me, one lid a little lower than the other. “You really know who they are?”

  “I wasn’t living in a cave back in LA.”

  “Not a cave but—”

  I hummed one of their songs as proof that I knew the band and to stop him from making an upsetting comment. Mom had worked hard for everything we had. At some point, I asked, “How’s Becca?”

  “The same.”

  A long line of vehicles had formed up ahead. Blinkers striated the dark woods. The drive to the field converted into a parking lot was a crawl, but we finally made it. Like ants, the cars trolled over the grass and dirt.

  I climbed out of the Jeep and tugged at the hem of my short, white eyelet dress. A glance around reassured me that most girls were showing way more skin than I was.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t contestant number four.” Lucas’s oily voice had my spine straightening. “I bet Liam that you’d be catching up on your beauty sleep before the trial.”

  Giggling ensued. The girlfriends had come.

  My pupils felt like they were warping. I snapped my eyes shut a millisecond, then opened them. “Did you think I was planning on distracting the three of you with my looks to win?”