"But--" Dax began.
A shut-up-or-die look from me silenced him, and I took the floor. "How'd you get out of that?"
"A witch cured me."
Totally at a loss, I suddenly wished for my mom, the clinical psychologist. If anyone could put a reasonable spin on this, she could. But it was only Friday night, and my parents wouldn't be home until Sunday morning.
"Do you believe me, Skylar?" Zeke asked. He sounded a little desperate.
Another direct question. God, I hated them, especially since I now struggled with a confession of my own--one even Dax had not heard. "For the longest time after you went missing, I dreamed about a wolf every single night." My brother's jaw dropped. I ignored him. "When I told my shrink--"
"Wait." Zeke's hand clamped down on my wrist. "You really went to one?"
"You thought I was kidding?" asked Dax.
"He wasn't." I got my hand back from Zeke. "Mom insisted. My doc tried really hard, but nothing he said could erase my mental image of you being tortured or buried alive. I finally pretended I was over it just so he'd release me."
"And you actually mentioned the wolf dream to him?" said Zeke.
"Only because I hoped it had a clinical meaning. He spouted off some stupidity about the wolf representing the evil in life. Just call me Little Red Riding Hood, right?" Zeke actually managed a half smile. Dax didn't. "But the wolf in my dream wasn't evil at all. He was caged."
"That's sounds about right. And you've stopped dreaming about him now?"
"The dreams stopped three weeks ago. So do I believe it's possible for a guy to shift into an honest to goodness wolf? Not before now. But if it's possible for me to dream about your experience as one, then I guess it's possible for you to be one. If it was even you I dreamed about. Mostly gray fur with black tips?"
"Yeah."
"And were you cured three weeks ago?"
"What's today?"
"August fifteen."
"Andee cured me July twenty-seventh. I probably should've waited for the full moon just to be sure I was myself again, but it worked for everyone else, so I'm thinking I'm good."
We stared at each other in silence, both of us digesting ramifications while Dax mentally judged us. At least, I was. Zeke could've been thinking about anything.
"Are you guys even listening to yourselves?" said Dax. "This is insane."
I glared at him before focusing on Zeke again. "You should definitely stay with us tonight. The 'rents are celebrating their twentieth anniversary at our new cave house--"
"Your what?"
"Cave house. Yeah, crazy, huh? Several months ago, Dad got this big idea about building a house around the cave on the property he inherited. He turned the three front chambers into living areas. I had my doubts at first, but now I have to admit it's pretty cool, plus it's eco-friendly. Anyway, Mom and Dad won't be back until Sunday, which is when Dax leaves for Harvard."
Zeke shifted his gaze to Dax. "So you got in." They'd planned to go together.
Dax looked a little flushed as he nodded, no doubt wishing I hadn't brought it up.
I wished that, too. "Once he's gone, you can have his room for as long as you need." My brother snorted his opinion of that, but didn't make a fuss.
"Your parents may not want me here."
I waved off Zeke's worries. "What are you talking about? They'll be thrilled to see you."
"Like this?"He indicated his current look.
"You know how liberal they are," I said. "And you're still you, just with less hair and more color. Did everyone in the gang have to get tattoos?"
Zeke sighed. "Nah. About nine or so months ago, I let one of the guys talk me into it." He shrugged. "I was feeling pretty hopeless at the time. So I shaved my head and got a couple of piercings plus these bad boys and some others." He raised his forearms so we could see better.
I took his right hand in both of mine and turned his arm from side to side, studying the colorful art in question. I saw a howling wolf, set against a yellow full moon. It was beautiful work. His left arm had a mountain on it. On the highest peak I saw a cross and tiny letters. A name: Risa.
"There's one on my neck, too. And both biceps."
Leaning forward slightly, I pushed down his T-shirt and hoodie so I could see the tattoo there. It looked like a falling star.
"Regretted everything almost immediately, of course," said Zeke, "and started plotting my escape again. But the damage was done."
Hm. "You said a couple of piercings. Both ears?"
"No. One ear and my left eyebrow. I let that one go."
"So what's the plan?" asked Dax, shoving the pizza box in Zeke's direction again.
Zeke took out another piece. "Plan?"
Dax clarified. "What are you going to do now that your Dad's moved to Cheyenne?"
"Track him down, I guess."
"Would you like to call him?" He sounded too eager. "I'm sure Dad's got his number."
"Not yet." An uncomfortable silence followed while Dax and I watched Zeke finish up his pizza. "Mind if I borrow your shower? I've been on the road for days, and I don't have any fresh clothes left."
"Yeah, sure." Dax jumped up. "You know where the downstairs bathroom is. Do you need Sky to wash your stuff for you?"
I graciously let that sexist offer slip by unaddressed since I wanted to help any way I could. "I don't mind. And Dax probably has something you can wear in the meantime."
"Jeans and underwear, anyway." My brother eyed Zeke's muscled arms, which were hidden by his sleeves but clearly had twice the girth of Dax's. "I don't have any shirts that'll go over those guns."
I thought for a sec. "One of Dad's white undershirts might. They're sort of stretchy."
"Anything," said Zeke, shrugging out of his hoodie and then peeling off his tee.
I took them, trying not to stare at his bare chest or upper arms, which did have tattoos on them.
"Sorry if they stink."
The fragrance was actually a heady scent that I secretly inhaled deeply. So Zeke. God, how I'd missed him. It was hard to believe he actually stood inches from me, alive and well. "You can hand me the other stuff out of the bathroom."
"Okay."
We left the kitchen and started up the hall.
"What's this?" Zeke asked, pausing in front of a painting hanging there.
"Something I did in art class last year."
Zeke studied the artwork for a moment, as did I, though I knew it well. Rugged mountains and a colorful sunset provided the backdrop for teepees in an old-west Native American scene. Though an amateur had obviously painted the piece, it had a distinctive look thanks to my color choices, and I was pleased with it.
"Impressive." Zeke moved to a framed photograph of just a little farther down the hall. "And what's this?"
"Our last family reunion. We go to Colorado every summer, remember?"
"I'd actually forgotten. Where's it held?"
"Great Sand Dunes National Parko. Most of our relatives live around there."
He stepped closer to examine the full-color photo of a huge group of people gathered before a backdrop of tall trees and taller mountains. Though in focus, the shot had so many relatives crammed into it that the photographer had stood pretty far away, making it hard to really see anyone's features. "You're related to all these people?"
"Yes."
"Wow. I don't know half of my kin."
I opened the door to my parents' room and went in. Zeke followed. With one hand planted on the wall to keep his balance, he immediately tugged off his boots. His socks came next, but instead of handing them over, he stuffed them into the boots and headed to the bathroom. Zeke shut the door behind him. I scooped up the socks and then waited just outside the closed door. He opened it a crack, shoved through his clothing, and shut it again. I heard the water running a second later.
With his stuff in my arms, I went back to the kitchen. There I rifled through his backpack without permission and pulled out everything I found. T
he inside of it definitely smelled like a locker room, but I could take care of that with a quick wipe down and some Febreze once I got his dirty clothes out. Since Dax wasn't anywhere around me at the moment, I checked all the zippered pockets, too. I found some phone numbers scrawled on a scrap of paper, several bottled waters, and a couple of protein bars. There was also a pack of disposable razors, a map, and some deodorant.
That was it? Zeke had lived a good life and never gone wanting his first seventeen years. Then everything changed, beginning with his mom's hiking accident, which had almost crushed him. If he sincerely believed Melita had something to do with it, then no wonder he'd rebelled. As for his life of crime in New Orleans… Incomprehensible.
"What are you doing?"
Dax's question made me jump. I glanced over to him and saw he held clean clothes for Zeke. "Snooping."
He accepted that with a nod. "Any weed in there?"
I gave him a hard look. "No, and no drugs, either."
"Hmph. Do you think he's okay?"
I glared at him. "Would you be?"
"Nope."
"Neither would I."
Dax seemed troubled. "Was that wolf story crazy or what?"
I looked my brother in the eye. "I actually believe him."
He stared back with obvious shock. "You're kidding, right?"
I asked a question instead of answering his. "Why would he make up something like that?"
"Because he's lost it?"
"Zeke Sterling is not insane or drugged, and you know it."
"Actually, I don't know it. The guy just told us he shapeshifts into a werewolf."
"Shapeshifted. Past tense. He's cured now."
"That's convenient." Dax sighed. "Look, Sky. If even half of what he told us is true, he's been to hell and back, and I've got to respect him for having enough brains left to find his way home. But I just can't buy into the Were angle, and I don't see how you can, either. Sure you love him, but come on…a werewolf? Really, Sky? Really? This whole thing gives me the creeps, and I'm not so sure inviting him to stay here was a good idea."
I couldn't believe my ears. "Some friend you are."
"And that's just it. I'm not his friend. When he went crazy last year, I cut all ties. Wasn't about to go down with him."
"Well maybe if you hadn't been such a butt, he'd never have crashed and burned."
"You're not laying this on me."
Pivoting, I bit back a snarky rejoinder and stepped into the laundry room, where I deposited Zeke's clothing into the washer. In seconds, the springtime scent of detergent filled the air. When I got back to the kitchen, my traitor of a brother was gone. I wiped down the backpack and sprayed it with freshener that killed the sweaty odor. Then I carefully repacked his personal belongings, such as they were. Seeing that Dax had left his loaner clothes on the table, I gathered them up and went back to my parents' room.
I peeked through the open doorway and, hearing the water still running, laid out the jeans and briefs. I also searched Dad's dresser and found a T-shirt and some socks. I snagged Zeke's boots as I left the room, determined to wipe them down, too. When I began doing that in the kitchen, I found a knife, tucked into a sheath on the inside of one. On examination, it proved to be razor sharp. I carefully put it back where I'd found it and cleaned up the boots as best I could only to discover that the sole of the left one had a hole all the way through it. A quick check revealed that he and Dax wore the same size shoe. I decided to ask Zeke if he wanted to borrow some Nikes or something.
Just as I walked into my parents' room to ask, the bathroom door opened. With a sharp gasp, I turned my back on it. "I brought the clothes," I said to the wall. "Your boots are in the kitchen."
"Er, thanks."
"They're worn through."
"Yeah."
"A pair of Dax's might--"
"No."
O-kay.
"Sorry if I snapped at you." He sounded closer. I risked a quick glance over my shoulder and realized he had a towel wrapped around his middle. I noticed a worn leather wallet and pocketknife now lay on the bed.
Letting out my held breath, I turned. My gaze swept him. Though buff, he didn't have the pumped-up weightlifter look that could result from steroids. Hard work had honed his muscles. "I don't mean to meddle."
"You're not. I just…I don't know. Hate to borrow stuff, I guess." He picked up the loaner boxer briefs, which were black, and looked at them. "Tell Dax thanks."
"Sure." I turned to leave.
"Skylar?"
I stopped.
"You've really…grown up."
"It happens." I left him, this time shutting the door behind me. For several seconds, I stood in the hall trying to sort through my emotions. Could Dax be right about Zeke's mental state? The wolf thing sounded nuts, and if I hadn't been haunted by one in my sleep, I'd probably have doubted it. But I had been, which made the thought of his shapeshifting an easier pill to swallow. Besides…I truly loved the idea that Zeke and I might've maintained some sort of psychic connection while he was in such distress.
But was it really a connection? Hardly. What I'd experienced were recurring nightmares that might not have had anything to do with him beyond their timing. As for the wolf coincidence, well, that confused me more than ever. Though we were miles apart, had my subconscious tuned into his dual nature because I loved him? Or had Zeke somehow made himself known because he loved me?
I blurted a laugh that I quickly stifled by slapping my hand over my mouth. If there was anything at all I was sure about it was the fact that Zeke Sterling did not and never would love me the way I wanted him to.
Chapter Three
Zeke looked better when he joined Dax and me in the living room again. The tattoos still shocked me every time I laid eyes on them, but they gave him a roguish air that I found appealing. I was that far gone.
While the guys silently watched whatever football game aired on our flat screen, I tried to remember the moment I'd fallen in love. I'm pretty sure it was the first time Zeke stood up for me. Dax, who hated his sis tagging along, had tried to keep me out of our tree house. For some reason, Zeke had argued my case and won it. As the years passed, they'd included me less and less.
"Are you going to finish school?" I asked, a question that probably came out of the blue as far as they were concerned, but made perfect sense on my fast-rolling train of thought.
Zeke dragged his gaze from the TV. "Thought I'd get my GED."
"You're only eighteen. You can go to public school."
"You're forgetting I'll be nineteen in December, but I guess I could, at that, assuming they'll take a guy who's laid out a year."
"Dad would probably let you reenroll in Walker." Now I was thinking out loud. Walker Academy, a school begun by my great-grandfather, was now run by my dad, Thorn Walker. It was well respected, thanks to a lot of hard work and careful hiring, and it offered a modern curriculum, which meant classes filled quickly.
"Too pricey."
Had he been on his own so long that he'd forgotten parents usually paid for their children's education? Especially parents as wealthy as Sam Sterling. "Surely your dad--"
"I don't want to be a burden to him."
"But Zeke--"
Dax cut me off, something he did a lot. "Speaking of your dad, sure you don't want to call him tonight?"
"I think a face-to-face might be better."
"I could drive you tomorrow." I knew Dax already had plans. He was about to leave all his Ridge Rock friends behind, after all.
"Okay. Thanks."
Ignoring Dax's obvious disapproval of my offer, I immediately got up and went to my parents' office to find the address, which I figured was on the Christmas card list, so I could program the GPS. I had time, yeah, but I was already obsessing over the reunion. Would Zeke tell Sam Sterling the same story he'd told us? And if he did, would his dad ever believe him?
Since I was so close to the bed where Zeke would sleep, I went ahead and changed the she
ets for him. Around nine, I popped some corn, which I shared in hopes it would lighten the mood. Dax, who still looked pissed about the situation, had said next to nothing all night, and Zeke was no more talkative. We watched a so-called horror movie while we ate it, but I honestly couldn't imagine how a few special effects could scare Zeke anymore. After folding his laundry, I went to bed at eleven, leaving the boys still sitting in silence in front of the television. After a quick shower, I put on my sleep shirt and crawled into bed.
Would I dream about my wolf tonight? The past weeks of dreamless sleep had been a relief, but now I wanted to know for sure if there was really a connection between the gray wolf in my dreams and the ex-gray werewolf downstairs. I figured that my now knowing his story might trigger one. Eager to find out, I tossed and turned for at least an hour before I finally dropped off. It was kind of like a little kid desperate to sleep so Santa would show up.
When I opened my eyes again, sunlight streamed through my window. I felt an instant pang of regret that I hadn't dreamed. Apparently that phenomenon was going to be one of those that never got explained. Unsure of when Zeke would want to leave--Cheyenne was a couple of hours away--I went ahead and dressed for the day by straightening my long hair, applying light foundation and subtle eye shadow and liner, and stepping into my best-fitting jeans. I wore layered tanks that showed off a natural tan I'd enhanced lifeguarding at the neighborhood pool that summer. I even put in some loop earrings, something I rarely bothered to do these days.
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