Back on the road twenty minutes later, the trail turned left just before Watertown. As they drove, they realized they were headed to Cape Vincent. Once they entered the small city, they followed the scent to Joseph Street and then turned right to St. James. Nate could smell the hint of a lake ahead of them and remembered that there was a ferry that led to Canada. Sure enough they came to a dead end, where a lineup of cars awaited a boat called Horne's Ferry. The sign on the side of the road read Wolfe Island, Canada. Apparently, they were going for a boat ride.
"Do you have your passport on you?" Nate asked Joe, taking his own wallet out to look for his.
"Actually, I do," he replied. "I used to travel to Ireland quite often, so I'm used to keeping it handy."
"It makes sense that she'd take them to an island. Their scent would be washed away by water. I doubt we'd even find it on the boat." Nate shook his head, aggravation filling every cell in his body. "Your sister is really ticking me off." She definitely was making it hard for them. "We should get out and sniff around to make sure the trail leads to the boat. And when the boat arrives, one of us should sneak on to see if there's any scent on it."
Nate followed a narrow pebbled beach that led down as far as he could see, while Joe went the opposite direction. But there was no need to go any further, the trail ended at the line of cars. Charlotte had obviously stayed in her vehicle, and whether she boarded the boat was yet to be determined.
Back at the car, Joe reported the same results.
As they waited for the boat to arrive, voices and squawks of birds carried in through the open windows. Nate could also hear the motor in the distance, and he estimated it would arrive within fifteen minutes, but couldn't see the ferry because of the six or so cars ahead of them. The temperature was dropping, which didn't affect him. Werewolves could take all kinds of weather, but he was worried about Megan. Was she outside in the frigid cold, freezing to death? Was she wondering where he was, afraid he wouldn't find her? Panic began to fill him, and he tried to shake it off. These thoughts were not helping. He had to keep it together.
In the silence of the car, Nate could smell perfume and cologne from people waiting in their vehicles along with lake water, garbage and pizza from the restaurant down the street. But the familiar scent of raspberries was not among them. He missed her bright green eyes and the feel of her strawberry blond hair between his fingers. His heart ached as the image of her beautiful face appeared in his mind. Forgetting his vow to calm down, he worked himself into a wolfish rage. The feel of his teeth lengthening came on so fast that he was shocked. He couldn't turn inside the car with innocent people all around them. He closed his mind and concentrated on his human teeth, taking deep calming breaths. He clenched his hand into fists and fought for control.
"You okay?" Joe asked as Nate shook, resisting the urge to turn. "Full moon's tomorrow night. Is it affecting you?"
"No, I was thinking of Megan, and my wolf got impatient with our search." Nate's voice was gravelly, but at least it wasn't a growl.
Joe was silent with a thoughtful look on his face. "We'll find them,” he said. “We knew it wouldn't be easy. Charlotte wants us to suffer."
"I know that!” Nate snapped. “Just tell that to the wolf who marked his mate. He wants to kill her."
Joe tensed. His hand gripped the steering wheel. "Nate," he began, his tone a warning.
"Here comes the ferry," Nate announced, interrupting his friend before they could resume the argument on how to handle Joe’s sister. He saw the bow of the boat move toward them. The Canadian flag rippled in the wind and left a muddle of shiny colors in the water.
"I'll slip out and sneak on. I won't be long." Without another word, Nate glided out the door.
Nate hid in the shadows as the boat docked and slipped onto the metal landing, inching unnoticed along the sides of the boat. A stab of disappointment flowed through him when the only scents he could smell were from the men working, garbage, and lake water. It was too strong—it washed away any traces of the girls.
Back in the car, he shut his door and explained his news to Joe.
"Should we go over to scout for their scent?" Joe asked, disappointment shining in his eyes.
Nate was torn. "Yes, we should check, just in case. I hate wasting time, but if they're there..." He trailed off, knowing that Joe would understand.
His friend nodded his head. "I agree; we can't risk missing them."
When all the cars were loaded, a man in a big blue coat and navy blue hat leaned in the driver’s side window. His bushy eyebrows were the prominent feature on his otherwise plain face.
"Passports?" he said, shivering from the cold air. Both men handed him what he requested, and with a small smile that moved his eyebrows up and down, reminding Nate of caterpillars creeping over a branch, he moved to the vehicle behind them.
The motor chugged for about twenty minutes. By the time they docked at their destination, it was close to ten. Once they were finally on solid ground, the men pulled over to the side of the road about a hundred feet from the dock.
"Should we change? We could cover the whole island faster in wolf form." Joe suggested, glancing around the deserted area. The roads were paved roughly, and no houses were visible. Woodland was all they could see, but they could smell humans a few miles away.
"Good idea. You take the east, I’ll take west?" Nate asked, glancing from side to side, making sure the coast was clear before he began stripping.
Once Joe nodded, they parted ways to prepare for their change. As soon as they had stashed their clothes by a nearby tree, they both leaned down on all fours, concentrating on their wolf form. Normally, without the full moon, they had to call to their wild side, but ever since they found their mates missing, they had been holding the animal at bay.
The wolf burst out of Nate, the image of green eyes and strawberry-blond hair in his mind. He didn't wait for the wolf next to him; instead, he took off through the unknown terrain searching for his mate. He flew through the trees and bushes, jumped over overturned logs and brush effortlessly. Branches and thorns bit into his fur, but he didn't notice. His mind was filled with white noise; he registered nothing, only concentrating on one scent—that wasn't there.
His paws pounded the uneven ground as he raced through the woods; he inhaled all the smells around him deeply. About a half mile into the trek, he turned as civilization appeared in the distance. A house stood at the end of a driveway, but he paid no attention. The only smells emanating from the house were fried chicken, vegetables, and a combination of human sweat and soap—nothing that interested him.
After a few more miles, he encountered more houses, more smells, but no Charlotte, no Megan, and no Lauren. Frustration filled the wolf’s mind as he forced himself to move faster and cover more ground. His paws pounded the earth like thunder. It didn't take long before he came to a road that was lined with businesses—a general store, a hotel with a bar, and a few restaurants. There was a long line of cars that must be waiting for another ferry to take them to the neighboring city, but he didn’t care, since none of the girl’s scents were around.
He followed the road, slipping through backyards, hoping to avoid being seen. It was late, after midnight, but this part of the island was alive with activity. Crowds of people gathered around a hotel, and loud music pumped out of the building.
Leaving them behind, Nate followed the road back to the rear of the island, this time from a different path, knowing that Joe would take an alternate route so they could cover more ground. They didn't need words—they had been running together off and on for fifty odd years.
About ten minutes away from the village, he caught a whiff of werewolf. Out of curiosity, he followed the scent to a house, and he crawled over to peek through the window. A man he knew was not entirely human sat on a leather sofa watching TV by himself. Nate didn’t detect any of the scents he was looking for, so he moved on.
Time was passing by, and he was no further ahead in his s
earch. The wolf was getting agitated the longer he was away from her. The scent of dirt, pine, grass, and animals was all he could smell. He could sense his pack member a few miles away searching with the same results—there was no sign of them.
As he came up to the spot where he had begun his hunt, he skidded to a stop. He felt defeated, lost, and incredibly angry. He leaned back on his hind legs, lifted his head to the night sky, and howled.
Chapter Seven
A Fright
I sat up quickly at the sound of an agonizing howl. My head felt dizzy by the sudden move. I glanced around my surroundings, feeling confused and lightheaded. My limbs were achy, and drained of all energy. I was lying in a bed in a small room that smelled of mothballs. The walls were lined with faded wood paneling, and besides the creaky bed underneath me, all that occupied the room was a white dresser.
Through the window, I could see that darkness had fallen. A lamp on the dresser gave off the only light, creating creepy shadows along the walls. The howl I heard had been a lone one, and there was only silence now. Not even the sound of a clock ticking broke through the quiet. The lack of noise was like an overwhelming pulse of energy that threatened to suffocate me. I suddenly had a powerful need to hear a voice, a ring, even a scream. Any sound of life would help the fear that sat on my chest like a weight.
The last thing I remembered was being at the cottage with Lauren and then Charlotte. A flash of déjà-vu went through my mind. I had woken up the same way earlier in the trunk of a car with Lauren. Being knocked out was really getting old. What I wouldn't give to slam Charlotte's head into something for a change.
Moving slowly to the edge of the bed, I felt a spring that poked through the mattress as I placed my feet on the wood floor to test my balance. I was still wearing the ballet flats I had put on this morning. I felt a little dizzy, but I was stable enough to stand. I tiptoed to the closed door and put my head against the smooth wood, listening for any signs of Charlotte. Again, there was only silence.
I tried the knob, half expecting it to be locked, but it turned smoothly. The hinges from the door creaked when it opened. The noise was extremely loud in the otherwise quiet surroundings. Beyond the room was a small kitchen and living room combo, all wood-panelled. Flowered curtains faded from the sun hung on the tiny windows. The room was filled with dusty plush furniture and rickety looking table and chairs. Deer shaped salt and pepper shakers were placed on the table and a stuffed fish decorated the fireplace mantel. The smell of mothballs permeated the room.
I flinched at the sound of a moan behind a door next to the room I emerged from. Afraid of who it could be, I headed over slowly, careful not to make too much noise.
"Megan?" Even though Lauren's voice was muffled through the door, I could still hear the panic in it.
Relief washed over me in a wave. I hated that Lauren was in this situation, but I was thankful I wasn’t alone. I turned the knob, and pushed the door open.
Lauren sat up in a bed similar to the one I woke in. Her hair was messy and falling over half of her face. Her eyes were sleepy and confused. The room was as equally small as mine but with a rocking chair in the corner. Thankfully, Charlotte was nowhere to be seen.
I rushed to her, throwing my arms around her neck. For some reason, the raspberry scent from my shampoo in her hair brought me comfort—a little piece of home.
"Where are we?" she asked into my hair.
I let her go and drew back. "I don't know, I just woke up. It's dark outside; we must have been asleep all day."
Lauren nodded, her face scrunched up in fear. "She drugged us."
"How do you know?"
"After she slammed your head against the trunk and knocked you out, she shot you with a needle, and said, ‘This will keep you out.’ Then she knocked me out and no doubt did the same."
"That's why I feel so drained."
"I guess so. Is Charlotte here?" Lauren whispered, her troubled hazel eyes shifting behind me and to the door beyond.
I shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't think so." I stood up, pulling her with me. "We should go explore. Maybe there's a phone or something."
Hand in hand, we ventured back out to the living room; the tapping of our shoes on the wood floor was the only sound. We separated with Lauren taking the small kitchen area while I looked in the living room. Neither of us could find a phone.
I sat down on the stuffed chair while Lauren checked the only door to the outdoors. When it opened, cold air rushed in. I jumped up and joined her, peeking outside. All that we could see was a small yard, with a forest beyond. Bare branches and cedar bushes danced with the breeze. At the sound of waves crashing in the strong wind, I realized there must be a lake behind us.
Lauren paused at the door. "I saw a flashlight in one of the kitchen drawers." She left me, but was back in a flash, now with a beam of light to guide us.
We ventured outside to try and find a way out of this awful mess, wandering down the yard looking for a road. There was nothing but trees. Besides the flashlight, the only illumination was the moon, which helped to light the way. I was right; the cabin was located next to a lake. Now that I lived with Nate, I was used to the sound of waves.
My eyes widened, and hope flared as I spotted a motorboat docked at the edge of the property. Our salvation—we were free. I actually knew how to drive one. Nate had taught me in the summer. All we needed was a key. I crossed my fingers as I rushed towards the midnight black vessel, the uneven ground making me wobble more than run. The only reason we saw it was because the moon shone off of the shiny paint; otherwise, it would have blended into the darkness.
As I stepped onto the deck of the boat, my heart sank, and disappointment wracked through my body. The ignition was empty.
"Damn it," I said, feeling deflated. I wanted to get mad and have a tantrum. But I needed to stay clear-headed… and be smart. I could be smart.
Lauren came up behind me and started to move the flash light around, looking for the key. She searched under the seat, the steering wheel, in both compartments and every inch of the floor, with no results. Whoever owned this boat had the key with them unless it was in the cottage. Before I could voice my thoughts, Lauren spoke.
"Do you think this is the only cabin around? Maybe we should look around to see if there are any neighbors with phones we can use."
The idea of walking around in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night with the threat of a sadistic werewolf lurking about terrified me. But what other choice was there? We were left alone in a cabin, and this was our only chance. We joined hands once again and followed the water’s edge, which was pebbled and at times rocky. The wind whipped our hair and cut at our skin. We were wearing short-sleeves, but we hardly noticed the cold. If we could get free, then it would be worth it.
As we walked, the tiny pebbles turned into stones and eventually boulders that were almost impossible to walk over without tripping. My choice of footwear this morning was not exactly suitable for hiking on rocks and boulders. The rocks dug into my soles. And since there was absolutely no tread on the bottom of my ballet flats, I slipped over the boulders and stubbed my toes against the hard edges. I gazed towards the edge of the trees, constantly hoping for flat ground to make our trek easier, but there was none. The brush grew right to the edge of the water.
We had travelled for about ten minutes, hugging our arms to our bodies against the brisk wind, following the faint light without luck. There were still no other houses or cabins around. The question that continued to pop into my brain was—where were we? We could see across the lake in the moonlight. I had a bad feeling that we were on an island, and to make matters worse, we were alone without a phone or food. Just the thought of food made my stomach rumble. We didn’t have breakfast this morning or anything to drink. The cabin had running water, but food was another story. How long could we survive without it?
"Look," Lauren said, pointing the flashlight to the edge of the trees just as a gust of wind whipped around us.
It blew my hair into my face, blocking my view. When I tucked the offending locks behind my ears, I saw what she was referring to. It was flat ground. Out of breath and tired, I pulled her hand and half dragged her towards the trees. When we were almost there, my treadless left shoe slipped and caught between two large rocks, twisting my ankle. A burning pain shot through it.
"Damn it," I yelped, hobbling the rest of the way. We tumbled onto the ground, and I held my sore ankle in my hands.
"Does it hurt?" Lauren asked.
Instead of sobbing like I wanted, I pulled all the strength I could muster and stood up. I cringed as I leaned on the sore foot.
"It's fine, let’s go. If we don't find anything, we should head back to the cabin before we freeze to death." Another shot of brittle cold air blew at me. We had to get warm soon.
"We're on an island; look." She had pointed the flashlight ahead of us where we could see only water. "And not a very big one. I think we're alone here." Lauren sobbed. "She left us here to die."
"If it wasn't so cold, maybe we could swim across. We're not far from the mainland." I pointed behind us because we had rounded the bend and now could only see water, no land.
She breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself. "I'm not a good swimmer, even if it was warm. How's the ankle?" she asked.
I tried to ignore the constant throbbing, and if I limped, it was bearable. "It's fine," was all I said. I was about to add that I'd live when the sound of a howl erupted in the night sky.
Lauren tensed next to me, squeezing my hand so hard that she cracked a few knuckles. I winced, but didn’t protest. She was scared, and frankly, so was I.
"Do you think that's Charlotte, noticing that we're gone?"
Riley's Torment, A Moon's Glow Novel #2 Page 6