Evidently everyone else had ideas, because they all started talking at once. I managed to pick out that Brandon was:
Fairly new here. He used to live somewhere else near town. He only started at Gilman High late last year.
A Pisces. Why Madison felt compelled to point that out, I had no idea.
Dating some girl named Antonella, who was apparently a super-snob but the school’s best tennis player. The school won tennis championships all the time, according to Emily. Yay us.
One of the top athletes in the school himself. Football and track and field were his specialties. Lin added that he used to wrestle, too, but got booted off the team. None of the girls knew why. I had my suspicions.
The younger brother of some guy they didn’t know well. They’d only seen him around town a time or two. The best description I could get was from Lin: “He’s got Brandon’s mean streak but no sense of humor.” What a charmer.
Hanging around with a really weird crowd outside of school. None of them could explain it better than that.
Interspersed with all these tidbits were questions for me. I tried my best not to answer. I also had my eyes out for Brandon. For all I knew he could still be getting lectured in some administrator’s office, but I doubted it. Determined werewolves could be awfully…persuasive. I got myself out of trouble that way once and was so creeped out at the results that I never tried it again.
And it was surreal to be worried about things like that when everyone else was discussing the lunchroom mystery meat. Oh, priorities.
“Did we kill your appetite talking about Brandon?” Lacey asked Emily, who was picking glumly at her sandwich. “Or is the food really that bad? You should try the salad bar, at least…”
“Lindsay said she saw Jordan Obermeyer sneezing into it.”
“Ew!” everyone chorused.
Before that could divert everyone into a whole other rant, I said, “Doesn’t anyone notice something strange about him?”
They all stared, nonplussed. “Jordan?” Madison asked.
“No. Brandon.”
For a minute, no one spoke. But Lin’s eyes tracked across the room, toward a stained-glass window with the Gilman High crest in its center. A rowdy group was sitting in front of it, and I went tense the instant I saw them.
“Football team,” Lin muttered. In the middle, of course, was Brandon. His face was tinted strangely from the colored glass, and I could hear him laughing. I’m sure to everyone else, the laugh sounded normal. I could hear strange echoes underneath, though, which rumbled through the floor like an earthquake approaching. His whole pose right then said hunter, and with eerie clarity I could picture him throwing his head back in a howl.
With a sudden shove, I propelled myself away from the table, nearly tripping over the bench in my eagerness to get away. “I have to go.”
Cee watched, concerned. “Can I help?”
Oh, God, no. I shook my head and escaped in such a hurry that I accidentally left my bag behind. For lack of any better options, I ended up hiding in the library, anxiously watching for anyone who might be following me. And I stayed put for hours. I couldn’t make myself go back to class, not if he was going to show up.
All I knew was that I had to get back home and tell Grey. I just wished I knew how. I wished I understood what I was seeing.
How could Brandon Rayner be a werewolf and not be at all like me?
Chapter Three
I told Grey everything on the ride home. He stayed silent, but his hands clenched tighter and tighter around the steering wheel. He kept listening while he helped me out of the truck and up the steps to our house. Then he closed the door and said, “You’re not going back there.”
I slumped, suddenly feeling very shut in.
“I’m sorry. I thought this would be a good idea.” Grey looked both angry and afraid—and deathly curious, too. “You’re sure he’s a werewolf? Positive?”
“What do you need? A transformation in front of the entire class?” I plunked into a chair. My backbone protested at the jolt. “I just know, okay?”
He sat across from me at the kitchen table, making steeples of his fingers and tapping them against his lips. “You’re not going back there,” he repeated, but this time he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Almost as if a new idea was taking hold.
Knowing what my brother could get up to in his more inventive moods, that was worrying.
“Grey?” I said warily. Eventually I waved one hand in front of his face. “Are you still in there?”
“Just…trying to think this through,” he muttered. “Brandon’s a werewolf. Probably his brother, then, too.” He swore under his breath. “Who else is there?”
We were interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. Grey slowly went to it. I don’t know what either of us were anticipating, but what we got wasn’t it.
He listened silently, then held out the phone to me.
I’d never gotten a phone call. Not once. Grey even fielded the calls from Dr. Fitzpatrick, on the rare occasions my brother dared take me to the doctor in the first place. So when I got up, I took the thing with extreme trepidation.
“Hello?” I said, awkward as anything.
“Hi, B! Jeez, were you hard to track down. I never could get this number out of your brother to begin with…”
Lacey, I mouthed to Grey. He spread his hands in a shrug.
“Anyway. You left your books behind at lunch. I was wondering if I should bring them over.”
Oh, hell. Those. “Um. Maybe…later?”
“But you’ve got piles of homework from the classes you missed. Where were you the rest of the day?”
“My schedule’s…not quite settled yet.”
“Well, your new history teacher is still expecting you to show up, since he assigned you as my partner for our next project. I’d rather not do this alone If I don’t have to.”
I winced. I didn’t figure out what to say before she continued.
“I wanted to ask. You’re not still upset about Brandon, are you? I mean, you’re not skipping class because of him, right?”
I looked up at Grey. “Yes,” I said.
“Oh, B. I know he’s an ass, but you can’t let him push you out of where you belong.”
“Belonging is not what I’d call it,” I said wearily. “Besides, Brandon—”
At the name, Grey gestured emphatically for the phone. I lowered it. Cee was still speaking, trying to convince me of something, but Grey thrust his hand out one more time. I gave in.
I wasn’t sure if he was planning to talk or to slam the thing down, but he spoke up after all.
“Lacey,” he said. “Lacey, it’s Grey.”
There was a long silence. I could only imagine what she was saying this time. Suddenly I remembered what she said about trying to get Grey’s number, and I wanted to groan. Another girl with a crush on my brother. No wonder she’d wanted to be friends with me.
“Tell me about Brandon,” Grey said at last. He walked across the room, stretching the cord as far as it would go. Eventually he put in, “Yeah, I remember Kane.”
That must have been Brandon’s older brother. I shifted anxiously, wanting to toss one of my crutches aside so I could gnaw at my nails.
“And who did you say was hanging out with him?” Grey’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. Ayu? The one who went on that whole Goth Lolita fashion kick?”
“Grey, what’s she saying?” I asked. He waved me down, and so I considered the phone. We never used it, but there was a speaker button. I gritted my teeth and punched it.
“Really, I don’t know what’s going on with those guys, but mostly they keep to themselves. It’s just been lately that they’ve started causing trouble.” Cee, unaware I was listening, kept on talking. Grey dropped the receiver to his side and glared bloody daggers at me. “I really can’t explain Pandora. I’ve tried to figure out what she sees in that crowd, but I have no idea. I wish someone could get through to them.”
Grey’s eyebrows lifted, just enough for me to guess what he was thinking.
“After she stopped showing up to play rehearsals,” Lacey went on, “and then that whole thing with Kane, and—well, something changed. Madison thought it was drugs or something, but I doubt it. Still, I wish I knew what it was.”
I made a small, strained noise. Grey cleared his throat. “Lacey, B’s back on the line.”
“Oh! Good. Well, you still need your bag back. Just let me know where you live. I’ll drive by.”
Grey looked dodgy. “You can give it back to her in the morning.”
I gaped. “What? Grey, you just said—”
“We’re going to be busy tonight,” he said, cutting me off. “But I’ll be sure she makes it to class tomorrow. Thanks, Lacey.”
There was really nothing I could contribute. I just kept staring at him.
“All right,” Cee said. “I’ll get started on the paper myself, then, but B—you better be there tomorrow to help out with the rest!”
“Um,” I said.
“Good. I’ll see you later. Bye, Grey.”
“Goodbye, Lacey,” he said, a bit tiredly, and hung up.
For a minute, neither of us said anything.
I waited through the silence for him to explain. There were, after all, a few possibilities. He could have been lying to placate Lacey. The other possibility, though, was what I blurted out instead.
“Grey, have you lost your mind?”
His eyes went so flinty I regretted the phrasing. That wasn’t an accusation we threw around lightly. Instead of pressing the issue, though, he said, “This sounds like it’s bigger than I’d thought.”
“You thought it was small?”
“Of course not. But…Jesus, B, aren’t you curious? Brandon, his brother, a couple of Lacey’s friends from the sound of it…are they all this way? Werewolves, running around just fine?” Grey scrubbed one hand back through his hair. “How are they—”
“I have no idea. And I’m not too anxious to try making myself their new best friend.” I paused. “Tell me that’s not what you’re getting at.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Grey—”
“I don’t want you getting into something dangerous. You know I don’t. But I still don’t have any way to help you properly, either.” His voice snagged. “What if we could find out more from them?”
I flinched. It made some sense, I knew it did, but if Brandon and his friends really were like me, only stronger—
I looked at the colorless streak in Grey’s hair, and the thin scar that scraped down his left cheek. I knew what had caused that. I knew what had cracked his skull and put him in the hospital for a week. It had been me, during a bad transformation. At age twelve.
“Listen, B,” he said quietly. “I don’t like this either. But you know how far I’ve gotten with finding better medicines for you? Finding anything for you? Tell me how you’ve been feeling this week. Tell me honestly.”
I worked my jaw. “Like shit.”
“Exactly. And I feel just as bad that you do, and just as stupid that I can’t make it better.”
He turned into the kitchen, not waiting for me to follow, and started rooting blindly through the cupboards, slamming things down on the counter with more force than necessary. I felt even worse.
“Grey, it’s not your fault. I can’t expect you to know…”
“Of course. It’s not like I’ve got any training or education or anything to work with at all.”
That hurt. I didn’t know what to say. Finally Grey sighed. “I’m sorry. Just… Could you start with Lacey, and find out what you can about her friends? And keep an eye on Brandon. He might give something away.”
I managed a nod. Grey mumbled something about finishing dinner. He only stayed long enough to scarf down a few bites before going back to finish his shift. I settled for eating what little I could—usually I’d be starving, but nervousness was making me queasy—and doing a few stretching exercises to try to ease my sore muscles. It didn’t help much.
With every move I thought of Brandon. He was an athlete. A superstar. He didn’t have to fight with any of this.
Finally I gave in, and silently decided I’d do it. Maybe I could get something useful from Lacey, or even from Brandon. I had to try. And if it led to getting eaten, at least I could safely blame my brother from beyond the grave.
If there was anything I’d learned over the last few years, it was to take my consolations where I could get them.
*
Predictable werewolf factoid #46: Mornings are not my strong suit.
Grey woke me up the next day—I’d already smashed my alarm clock flat—by dropping something into my lap. More accurately, since I was buried under blankets and he couldn’t see my lap, he missed and clocked my elbow. Grumbling, I got up and accidentally dumped whatever it was onto the floor.
“Some way to thank me,” Grey said.
I glared at him. Grey picked up the mystery object to waggle it at me. It took a minute to identify it. “A cell phone?”
“I got one too. My number’s already in the address book. Call me if anything goes wrong. Rogue werewolves. Rouge werewolves. Alien invasions, vampire elephants, some dude with scary bad teeth, I don’t care.”
I kept staring. “How’d you afford a cell phone?”
He gave me exactly the same glare I’d just targeted at him, dropped the phone in my lap—properly this time—and stalked out the door.
“Downstairs in five minutes or I’m dragging you there,” he said.
Thus motivated, more or less, I grudgingly geared myself up for school.
*
I did make it to Gilman High on time that morning—perhaps not cheerfully, but at least with no dragging involved. Once there, I had to visit the office for one last round of schedule adjustments. I was braced for a battle, at least administratively speaking, so I wasn’t completely off my guard.
Unfortunately, I got confronted right away by something far more complicated than the guidance counselors.
Brandon was sprawled in the reception area’s only available chair, looking as though he was awaiting his inevitable release and just wanted to get on with it. He lifted his head the instant I stepped through the door. “Hey there, B.” His mouth lifted in a crooked smile. I’m pretty sure mine didn’t.
“What did you do this time?” I said by way of greeting. “Set someone on fire?”
“Ooh. Biting. I figured you’d be good at that.” I ignored that. “So what are you in for?”
“Nothing,” I said defensively. “I’m just changing a class. Getting out of gym.”
Right away I wished I hadn’t said it. Brandon looked at my legs, then slid his gaze all the way back up, so slowly I wanted to hit him. “Right. Shame about that.”
I grimaced. Brandon made a point of stretching, showing off long legs and the muscles in his arms, then folded his hands behind his head and braced his heels against the floor, rocking both feet back and forth.
“Careful,” I muttered. “Slide any further down and you’ll fall on your ass.”
“Only if I lose control. Which I never do.”
I bristled. Whatever he was inferring, it better not have been that I wasn’t trying. Brandon only laughed, though. He sat up and leaned over, arms braced across his knees. “Actually, B, if you really want to learn something, I could tell you way more useful stuff than anything you’re gonna get in this place.”
I didn’t want to get dragged into this conversation, not at all, but I heard myself asking questions anyway. “Like what?”
“About us,” he said. “About the whole pack.”
He said it too quietly for anyone but me to hear. I stood ramrod straight at that last word, because it had only ever been a half-formed idea in my head, but he’d just made it real. Pack…
I was grasping at shell-shocked questions—You mean there are more of us? A whole group? Who are they? And how—when he cut
me off with a laconic interruption. “If you’re going to keep putting walls up, though, I’ve got other things to do.”
“I’m not—”
He smiled sardonically, as if I’d just proven his point. I shut up.
Just then, someone called for him. The vice principal’s door opened, and Brandon gestured offhandedly. “Like I was saying. Impending detention and all.”
He pushed himself upright, so very easily, while I struggled to decide what to do. I’d either have to let him go, in which case he’d probably never give me a freebie like this again, or I’d have to ask him for help. I cringed at the thought, but I stepped—okay, lurched—after him regardless. “Can we talk later, then?”
He grinned, looking oddly pleased. “Tomorrow. Meet me at the football game. No matter what happens, they wouldn’t kick me out of that.”
He was probably right. Grey always used to complain about sports stars getting away with everything. I shook my head, but Brandon just tipped an imaginary hat to me, striding off so confidently that even the secretary watched him go.
Gross.
That left me alone again with my thoughts. I barely even heard the other secretary calling my name. All of a sudden, school seemed deathly unimportant. What did matter was that I had to figure out what to tell Grey.
Because I had no idea what I was about to walk into—and I suspected that as far as information-gathering went, this was not what he’d had in mind.
Chapter Four
Game day dawned gray and drizzly, which figured.
After a whole lot of awkwardly rehearsed speeches, I’d told Grey that Brandon wanted to meet me after the football game. I left out mentioning the pack, because I wanted proof that Brandon wasn’t just full of crap before I dumped all that on my brother’s head. Even so, Grey wanted reassurance that other people would be around—which was probable, although maybe not the sort of people he was hoping for—and he only drove me to the stadium after a long lecture on safety and common sense, not to mention the insanity of high school athletics. I assumed he was exaggerating, but when we got within range of the music, screamed-out cheers and shouted slogans, I began to suspect he had a point.
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