Wolf-Crazy

by Palmer, Linda

  Don't be a brat.

  I winced, remembering what Zeke had said. Was I being a brat by challenging their concerns and resisting their guidance? Maybe. But only because I'd found someone worth fighting for. Somehow I had to reconcile my pre-Zeke behavior to my post-Zeke behavior and without alienating my family. Could I do it?

  A knock on the door brought me to the surface with a gasp. "Sky? You in here?"

  "Who else?"

  "Where's Zeke?"

  "He made other sleeping arrangements."

  Silence. "Look, I'm sorry I called Mom and Dad, okay? I just thought--"

  "I forgive you."

  He snorted. "I wasn't asking for your forgiveness. I was trying to explain why I did what I did."

  "No need. I get it."

  "Oh. Then I guess I'll see you in the morning."

  I submerged again instead of answering.

  Chapter Six

  Though I tried to be friendly--it was Dax's last day at home for a while--things still felt a little strained around the house. Just after ten, Mom, Dad and I stood on the front porch and waved goodbye to my brother, who headed east in his SUV, which was packed from top to bottom.

  Mom held up better than I expected. In fact, she immediately turned to me and said, "Can we talk?"

  "Um, sure."

  The three of us went into the house and headed for the kitchen table, where remnants of a very late breakfast still cluttered the table. Dad pushed everything to one side. We all took a chair.

  "We want to apologize for yesterday," said my dad. "Not that we don't have reservations about Zeke. We do, and they're valid. But we are proud of how loyal you are towards him and sincerely hope your loyalty isn't misplaced."

  "I should tell you right now that what I feel for Zeke is more than loyalty. It's love. Unfortunately he doesn't love me back, so I'd appreciate it if this could be our little secret."

  Mom's caught Dad's eye. "Told you she wasn't going to outgrow it."

  Dad cleared his throat, clearly getting ready to say something deep that I probably wouldn't want to hear. "Skylar, when you're eighteen--"

  I refused to let him go there. "Don't blow me off, Dad." My parents had been high school sweethearts, themselves, so clearly understood how intense and lasting young love could be. But mightn't that also work to my disadvantage? They were very worried about Zeke's mental state. What if they panicked and tried to split us up just in case? I could see my dad shifting gears, trying to come up with another approach on the fly. He pinched the bridge of his hawkish nose, something he did when he needed to think.

  "What really happened when Zeke went to see Sam?" Trust Mom to guess there was more to the story.

  "Melita sent him packing."

  Dad's eyebrows shot up. "Melita McGee our ex-mayor? What'd she have to do with it?"

  I told them. "So now Zeke feels guilty about coming home, which is why I said you guys would let him stay here. I never dreamed you wouldn't."

  Mom's shoulders sagged. "Poor Zeke." She raised her gaze to Dad. "Thorn."

  That's all it took. "Go get him," said Dad. "If he's going to stay with us, I want to lay down some ground rules."

  I waited until I was out the back door before I indulged in a silent happy dance that took me all the way to my car. Wishing I had some way to call Zeke--silly me hadn't looked up the motel number before I left--I as good as flew to him. I guess I still had a secret fear that he'd escaped into the night. But he hadn't. The moment I knocked on his door, he opened it. I hugged him extra hard, which seemed to surprise him.

  "What's up?" he asked.

  "Nothing. Everything. Mom and Dad want to talk to us." I noticed that he wore his other set of clothes, which consisted of a different T-shirt, this one long sleeved, and a pair of jeans that didn't have a rip in them. I also saw that he'd taken out the earring, which made me grin. "Cleaning up your act?"

  He grinned back. "Never hurts."

  My heart swelled with hope for some reason, and I suddenly felt as if everything might work out. "You should turn in your room key. I'm thinking you'll be in Dax's bed tonight."

  "I told the front desk I'd leave it on the dresser."

  His answer surprised me. "So you're feeling good about this, too."

  Zeke didn't say anything. Instead of getting into the car, I froze in place, one hand reaching toward the door handle. His expression told me he wasn't as sure about today as I was, which meant he'd conferred with the front desk for another reason.

  "You were about to leave, weren't you?"

  "Not until I said goodbye. I did promise."

  "Where were you going?"

  "The mountains. I've missed them."

  With my heart now aching, I got into the car. Zeke did the same. I drove us home without saying another word. Mom, now cleaning up our breakfast mess, greeted him warmly. "Would you like something to eat?"

  "No thanks, though I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee." He pointed to the pot my parents refreshed all day during the weekends.

  She handed him a mug. "Help yourself."

  He did. We walked to the living room, where Dad sat reading the sports page. He, too, greeted Zeke with a smile. "Have a seat. Did you see the Cowboys' game last night?" He referred to the University of Wyoming football team. "That was a close one."

  "Yes, sir."

  Mom joined us, wiping her damp hands on her jeans. "When do today's games start?"

  "Thirty minutes," Dad told her.

  "Then we'd better get this family meeting started."

  My quick smile thanked her for including Zeke as 'family.'

  Dad set his paper aside, muted the TV and focused on Zeke. "First, Jenna and I want to apologize for yesterday. We were caught off guard, and reacted inappropriately. I hope you'll forgive us."

  Zeke nodded, but didn't say anything. I got the impression he was afraid to.

  "Second, we want you to stay with us and attend Walker. Now that Dax has gone, his room is free. When he comes home, you two can toss for the bed."

  I laughed, trying to imagine that and so not seeing it.

  "Are you sure?" Zeke looked decidedly uncomfortable. "I wouldn't want to stay here if either of you were nervous about it."

  "And that brings us to our third agenda item," said Mom. "In return for room and board, we have a condition."

  "O-kay."

  Dad took over. "You must talk to a counselor about your experiences. Though you're obviously doing well now, you just escaped from a war zone, and what happened there will stay with you forever. You need coping skills. The right professional can make all the difference."

  Zeke looked at Mom. "Can that be you?"

  "If you like."

  "Then I agree." He shifted his gaze to Dad. "Anything else?"

  "No." Dad beamed at us. "Excellent. Skylar, you'll probably want to shift Dax's stuff around a little so Zeke can have some bureau and closet space. Zeke, do you think you should call your dad and let him know where you'll be?"

  Zeke hesitated just long enough for me to say, "I told them about Melita."

  He winced. "I don't know whether to call him or not. I don't want to screw up his chance to be governor."

  Mom spoke up. "I don't understand how it could."

  "Not yet, you don't," said Zeke.

  Mom finally got it. "Ah."

  Zeke rubbed his hand over his buzzed hair, something I'd have loved to do, myself. "But you'll be needing tuition money from him pretty quick, won't you?"

  Dad nodded. "If you want to go that route. Or we do have some scholarships available."

  "No thanks. He seemed willing to pay."

  "Then that would be the perfect excuse for me to call him for you. Shall I?"

  "Yeah." Zeke seemed relieved.

  "Meeting adjourned?" I was ready to tackle Dax's room and get Zeke settled in.

  "Meeting adjourned." Mom got up and left us. Dad un-muted the TV. I grabbed Zeke's hand and pulled him off the couch. We went upstairs together.

&
nbsp; The moment we got out of sight, I gave him a quick hug that he barely acknowledged. "Still want to know why Dax calls me wolf-crazy?"

  He nodded.

  "Then follow me." I led the way to my room, motioning for Zeke to go inside when we got there. Visibly curious and maybe a little hesitant, he did.

  I heard his low whistle. "What's all this?"

  "My version of wolf-crazy, I guess." I watched as he slowly turned, taking in my décor which consisted of wolf posters and a wolf calendar, a Native American-style comforter with mountains and wolves on it, a collection of wolf figurines, and the trophy I won for my wolf paper entered in the Wyoming High Schools Writing Contest. "When the dreams started, I began researching canis lupus. I got involved in local rescue efforts, I wrote a paper, I even adopted one."

  His eyebrows shot up.

  "It was an internet thing. I donated money that went towards wolf rescue efforts and education about anti-wolf extremism and congressional efforts to weaken endangered species acts. Does this make me wolf-crazy? Maybe, but once I started reading about them, they consumed me. It was weird, but somehow felt completely natural."

  "I don't know what to say. This is so cool."

  Smiling my pleasure at his reaction, I headed to Dax's room, which was a mess, as usual. With a sigh, I began to pick up the clothes he'd considered taking and thrown on the floor once they were rejected. I put them where they belonged. I also stuck his dirty clothes in the hamper, which brimmed in seconds. One thing about Dax--he liked to look good. For that reason, most of the money he'd earned during the summers went towards that. So he had more to wear than any guy reasonably should have.

  While Zeke stood there scanning the disaster, I got busy combining dresser drawers to free up a couple. Then I shoved Dax's hanging clothes and leftover shoes to one end of the closet. That left Zeke room for his once he bought some. In the process of rearranging, I spotted a full-sized stand-up of some supermodel, given to Dax as a joke nineteenth birthday present from one of his misguided friends. I backed out of the closet and pointed to the hamper.

  "Would you mind taking that downstairs to the laundry room?"

  Zeke grabbed the handles of the mesh basket and left.

  I ducked inside the closet and got the stand-up, which I carried to my room. The guy I loved didn't need to have that thing around.

  Chapter Seven

  By late afternoon, I had everything the way I wanted it. Zeke had proved to be little use. I think he felt guilty about rearranging Dax's things. Fortunately, I didn't, so I actually moved furniture around, something I'd long wanted to do. Zeke wound up helping me with that, of course. Dax's bed weighed a ton.

  Feeling kind of nasty from the dust bunnies and food crumbs I'd discovered while vacuuming, I headed straight for the shower in the bathroom Zeke and I would be sharing. I almost forgot to take a complete new outfit in there with me, something I wasn't used to. While Dax and I were both pretty modest, he'd caught me exiting the bathroom in my undies on many an occasion, just as I'd caught him. I knew I'd have to more careful around Zeke.

  After my shower I went downstairs and found him and Dad engrossed in yet another pro game. Football seemed to be starting awfully early in the year, but when I thought about it, I couldn't remember any season when there wasn't a game on TV. Some stations actually showed match-ups from way, way back, and Dad watched them, even though he knew how they turned out. Guys. You had to love their devotion to sports. I found my mom in their home office and slipped in there to give her a hug.

  "What's that for?" she asked with a smile.

  "You know. May I cook dinner tonight?"

  "Have at it."

  Good. Determined to wow Zeke with my culinary skills, I went to the kitchen to dig through some of Mom's cookbooks. Based on the food available in the freezer, my best bet was pork chops. I found a recipe for mac and cheese that sounded good, so I added that to the menu. A salad and some garlic bread rounded out the meal. I was in the middle of stuffing the pork chops with some spicy sausage when Zeke wandered into the kitchen an hour later, sniffing the air. "You cook?"

  "Just one of my many talents." I stirred the pasta boiling in a pan on the stove.

  "Need any help?"

  "You could fire up the grill." I dug in the drawer and handed him the one-click fire starter. He went out the door. Having eaten at our house at least a zillion times, he knew exactly where the grill was. I kind of lost track of time, so several minutes passed before I realized that Zeke had never returned. I shot out the back door to look for him. Yeah. Still nervous that he was going to bolt on me, something I blamed on his words at the motel. I found him standing on the deck as still as could be, looking over our sloping back yard.

  Tall trees surrounded my house, which was located in an area with oversized lots. We had a great view of the Rockies, so I figured that Zeke the mountain lover was simply admiring the scenery. When I joined him at the rail, however, I realized that his attention seemed to be focused on a shadowy corner of our property.

  "Is something wrong?" I edged closer to him, suddenly uneasy.

  Zeke didn't answer.

  "What is it?"

  "I smell a werewolf."

  I truly didn't know how to respond to that. "In our yard?"

  "Not sure."

  "Then where?"

  He shook his head. I glanced at the grill, which hadn't been lit. Gently, I removed the lighter from his hand and did the honors, myself. That's when he came to life, turning and then grimacing. "Sorry."

  "It's okay. So you can tell the difference between a wolf and werewolf by scent?" From my reading, I knew that natural wolves weren't that good with smells. In fact, many breeds of dogs were better. But Weres could have super sharp noses for all I knew.

  "I can, and I don't smell anyone from my old pack, if that's what you're wondering."

  Pack. He'd run with a pack. "You mean some of the guys in your gang, er, pack are still Weres?"

  "I've heard that. Only know of one case for sure. A guy who wasn't in New Orleans. As for my pack, we split up pretty quick after we escaped, and I've only kept in touch with a couple."

  "Why would anyone stay a Were?"

  "They didn't have lives before they were kidnapped. The Arm, or le bras du loup, was the family they never had. Some of the guys in charge--the ones who never got caught--remained Weres, too, I think."

  This was sounding worse and worse. "Are they…dangerous?"

  "If they're Weres on a mission, they could be, especially if I'm the mission."

  Oh God. "Come inside."

  He looked at me--really looked--and sighed. "I've scared you."

  "I'm not scared. Well, not for myself. I am scared for you, though. Why would you be their mission?"

  "I've heard rumors that some of the old leaders want to reorganize. Naturally their first recruitment efforts would be geared towards guys who are already trained."

  "But you'd never…"

  "Of course not. Can we talk about something else?"

  Knowing he didn't want me to worry, I changed the subject. "I need school clothes. Want to go to the mall with me tomorrow?"

  "I thought you shopped yesterday."

  I shook my head. "Too worried about you to buy anything."

  "Then I'm good for the mall. I'll need some stuff, too, and I never know what to get." He led the way to the back door. "Are the chops ready to grill?"

  "Yes."

  "Let's get them."

  Though I faked perky at dinner, I could barely eat for worrying. I'd thought Zeke was out of harm's way. Clearly he wasn't. So when we finished up, I volunteered him to help me clear the table and sent my parents to the living room.

  The moment we were alone, I said, "Maybe we should tell someone that you're still in danger."

  "Who? My dad? He's not sheriff anymore, and his head is in the clouds."

  "Mine?"

  "Your dad's a teacher, Skylar. What's he going to do? Beat the pack to death with a chalkboar
d eraser?" My eyes suddenly brimmed with tears, surprising both of us. "Shit. Sorry, but let's be real. No one would believe my story."

  "Dad might. He's into weird."

  "Not this weird."

  "Zeke--" I was ready to talk some sense into him.

  "Skylar--" His inflection exactly mimicked mine. "Forget this, okay? 'Cause if you don't, I'm going to leave. I can't have you living in fear of something that isn't going to happen." He lifted my chin so I'd look at him. "If I really feel threatened, I'll get some supernatural help. There's this group of guys called the Corteggio that are keeping an eye on the werewolf situation. I don't want to call attention to myself since they're a little jittery where Weres are concerned, but I will if I have to."

  "Promise?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you going to tell me more about the Cor-- What was it?"