The Xoe Meyers Trilogy (Xoe Meyers Young Adult Fantasy/Horror Series)

by Sara C. Roethle

  After examining the rustic room, complete with Terracotta pots and paintings of desert scenes with horses, I sprawled across the Southwestern themed comforter of Jason’s and my rather small bed. Chase sat down on the cot with a sour expression on his face. He had lost to Max at rock, paper, scissors. The two of them didn't want to sleep in the same bed. Yet another example of boys being silly.

  Chase bounced back and forth a bit on his cot, distaste showing plainly in his dark gray eyes. His near-black hair was starting to look a little shaggy, as opposed to that elegantly tousled look that some boys manage. He didn’t really seem to care either way.

  I twined my fingers through the ends of my own shaggy hair in thought. I still hadn’t managed to find the time to get it cut. My demon lessons with my dad took up way more of my time than I liked. I was actually looking forward to a little vacation from him.

  Going from not knowing my dad, to seeing him multiple times a week was overwhelming to say the least. I'd blamed him at first for not being in my life, but then I'd been enlightened of the fact that my mom had done her best to keep me away from him. I'd gotten over the hurt . . . mostly. He was definitely trying to make up for it now, in a really annoying way.

  It wasn’t all bad though. The lessons had definitely paid off. I was now able to manifest a small flame in my palm and could burn things on command, rather than on accident. It was peanuts compared to what my dad could do, but I’m just happy to finally have a measure of control. I don’t randomly explode appliances anymore, but I for some reason can’t do it voluntarily now either.

  I looked down at the ring my dad had given me for Christmas, a family heirloom apparently. We didn’t know what it did, if anything, but I’ve caught occasional flashes of light from the deep red stone. Sometimes even the silver vines that make up the band seemed to move, but whenever I tried to show anyone they stopped. The ring gave me the serious heebie-jeebies to tell the truth, but my dad insisted that I wear it. I'd given up on asking why.

  Whenever my sense of teenage rebellion would flare up I'd take it off, but I always put it back on after a few hours. It would be seriously stupid if something bad happened, just because I didn't want to wear a ring. Of course, wouldn't it be even more stupid if something bad happened because I wore a ring out of fear of something bad happening? Don't answer that. For now, I'd wear the ring.

  A quick knock on the adjoining door preceded Allison’s entrance. I was still cranky with her for weaseling her way along on our trip. I was responsible for enough people already. I didn't need to be watching out for her too.

  Allison's long, honey blonde hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, leaving her face completely unframed. It was a new look for her, and made her pale brown eyes look big and innocent. The smile she gave me was definitely not innocent. She was enjoying the fact that she had pulled one over on us. Bitter much?

  She sat beside me in her designer jeans and charcoal v-neck sweater, snapping the strap of my black spaghetti strap shirt on her way down.

  “Aren’t you freezing?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

  “I’m always hot these days,” I groaned in reply. “I feel like a human space heater.”

  Allison placed a hand against the side of my neck. Her palm felt cold and dry.

  “You don't feel that warm. I mean yeah, you kind of feel like a human heating pad, but not uncomfortably so,” she stated in a skeptical manner.

  I glared at her. “Yes, I'm pleasantly warm to someone who's cold, but try feeling like you're standing in the sun twenty-four seven.”

  “Hey I've been wondering,” Max piped in loudly from his perch on his bed, “we already know that you can't get burned by fires or hot surfaces, but can you get sunburned?”

  The fact that I couldn't get burned by hot surfaces was a fairly recent discovery. The novelty had somewhat worn off. At first I'd amused myself by taking hot pans out of the oven without gloves and putting my hand in the fireplace, but it seemed to upset my mom, so I stopped. Well I stopped doing it while she was looking.

  I hadn't yet considered the idea of the sun not being able to burn me. “I haven’t managed it yet,” I replied sullenly. “Considering the fact that before my powers came into action I would burn in about ten minutes, I'd say I probably don't need sunblock anymore.”

  I was feeling less and less human every day. Maybe I'd still wear the sunblock just to make myself feel better.

  Max opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could, Allison stood abruptly and marched back into her room. She shut the door firmly behind her, as if she couldn't stomach another word from him.

  I turned to give Max a suspicious look. “What did you do to make her mad?”

  Max shrugged in reply. “I turned her down.”

  “Like for a date?” Chase interjected skeptically.

  Max is 5’4” with sandy blond hair, pale green eyes, and freckles. I will forever think of him as a little elf. Allison on the other hand is 5’9”, blonde, and curvy.

  “Not for a date,” Max said with more than a hint of venom, “though we have been on a few of those. She asked me to make her a wolf. I told her she was being an idiot and she got offended.”

  “What!” I exclaimed, jumping up from the bed. Oh, this was so not happening. I'd worked very hard to keep my last human friend out of the freak-show.

  Max shrugged, as if it weren’t a big deal. “She’s tired of being the only human, but she doesn't understand what she's asking. I tried to explain it to her, but she wouldn't listen.”

  Oh, she was tired of being the only human, so why not just become a werewolf? I'd tell her why not. Maybe she wouldn't listen to Max, but I'd make her listen to me.

  I turned from Max and marched straight into the girls’ room without a knock. Allison was lucky to be the only human. I found her standing by the window talking to Jason. I brushed past him and shoved Allison down onto the nearest bed.

  I jumped on top of her and pinned her down, my demon-fueled strength quickly putting an end to her struggles. I'm as strong as a werewolf when I'm angry, unfortunately I only have human strength when I'm not.

  Werewolves have their strength all of the time. Being a werewolf changes the entire composition of someone's body. It's a magic of a sort, but more chemical. My strength was fueled by pure magic alone, and since I don't have much control of my magic, I don't have much control of my strength.

  “Why are you here?” I demanded.

  She looked to Jason for help, but he just raised his hands in surrender and backed away. I’ve always said he is a very smart man.

  Allison turned her attention back to me with a defiant look in her eyes. I vaguely noticed that our entire party had filtered into the room, and everyone was huddled as far back from us as possible. Everyone, except for Chase that was. He’s the only one I can’t burn, something about a demon aura. Not that I hadn't tried a time or two. He can be rather infuriating when he wants to be. I could still set the room around Chase on fire, but I’d try to restrain myself.

  I should have been exercising more caution around Allison. As the only human, if I burned her, she'd heal human slow. Everyone else in the room could take a beating . . . erm, burning. Allison couldn't. That thought alone helped me calm my anger a bit.

  I focused all of my attention back on the human in question. “Why?” I demanded again.

  “I don’t want to be human anymore,” she mumbled quickly. “Max and Jason both refused to help me.”

  I whipped my gaze up to regard Jason. “You knew?” I asked, shocked.

  “I’ve been trying to talk her out of it,” he replied, voice steady.

  His aura of calm was given away by the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop running his hands through his dark brown hair. It was his most obvious nervous tell. You'd think after all of the years he'd been alive he would have grown out of it, but old habits die hard.

  I regarded the rest of the room, Allison nearly forgotten underneath me. “Who else knew?”


  After a moment of silence, Lela raised her hand, but refused to lift her gaze from the floor. So she had asked everyone in our group except Chase, Lucy, and me . . . the only ones she knew couldn’t, or wouldn’t help her.

  Being a demon is hereditary. It can't be passed on like lycanthropy. It's more difficult to make someone a vampire, they often die in the process, but it can be done. The fact that she'd asked Jason to turn her meant that she was desperate. Desperate and stupid.

  I slowly crawled off of the bed and marched out into the hallway, instead of back into the other room. I shut the door behind me to signify that no one should follow me, then made my way downstairs and back outside. I'd been losing my temper like this a lot lately. Everyone knew to let me cool off. People ended up with blisters otherwise.

  The lawn was still crowded with werewolves. I so did not want to see werewolves. I might set one of them on fire. Instead of walking through them, I made a quick left and headed straight out into the woods, not really knowing where I was going. I needed time to think.

  After a good ten minutes of walking mindlessly, I finally began to take in my surroundings. The trees in this area were completely alien compared to those in Shelby. Everything in Moab was drier, and . . . spikier.

  I had noticed that the river near the hotel supported towering cottonwood trees, but once you ventured away from the moisture it all became short, spine-covered mesquites and other unforgiving plant life.

  The mountains in the near distance were populated with the same oaks I had noticed on our drive. Maybe I’d still see pines later tonight at the werewolf “meet and greet,” which would take place in said mountains. Why on earth would Allison want to be part of this?

  I mean, I know on the outside having powers and extra strength and speed seems cool . . . okay it’s definitely kind of cool, but the drawbacks aren’t worth it. Since I'd found out I was a demon, I had been kidnapped and beaten. I’d been lied to and used. I’d hurt people. I'd killed people. My life was in constant disarray. My mom is afraid to even ask about my life anymore.

  There will always be people wanting to use me, or hurt me. Whoever first said that power corrupts was right, though they probably didn’t mean it in the sense that I’m using it. Power corrupts your life when you have it and other people want it.

  Allison knew everything that Lucy and I had gone through since our lives were changed by paranormal means. She'd been there to see it all. Heck, she'd even gotten beaten and kidnapped herself, just for being near us. Voluntarily becoming a part of that world was just plain stupid. I couldn’t let her do it. If she was too stupid to protect herself from our fate, then I'd do it for her. She wasn't becoming a werewolf. I’d have to see to that tonight.

  Chapter Three

  Payback is a bitch. I was beginning to realize that werewolves don’t like it when non-werewolves kill them. No matter that the werewolf I'd killed was psychotic and trying to kill me. I was even getting blamed for Nick’s death, which was actually my dad’s doing. Nick had also been trying to kill me.

  As soon as I reached the Inn’s lawn after my little reflective walk, an older woman, presumably a werewolf walked up and tried to spit on me. She missed, but I didn’t. She hadn't taken into account that my powers were fueled by anger. I managed to knock her out with a single punch. Respect for my elders be damned. I stepped right over her prostrate form without another glance and kept walking.

  Everyone else on the lawn stared at me as I made my way towards the front door of the Inn. Some faces held looks of fear or respect, but most only held hatred. Screw it. I wasn't here to win any popularity contests.

  I met Lela in the hall as I was walking back to our room. “What's with all of the hostility around here?” I asked bluntly.

  She just stood there uncomfortably, obviously not wanting to answer my question. Instead she focused on tugging her black sweater down over her jeans, as if it didn't already fit her perfectly.

  I raised my eyebrow at her and she stopped fidgeting.

  “Basically,” she began, “No one likes you, because you're involved in werewolf affairs, but you aren't a werewolf yourself. No one likes the rest of us, because we'd rather be led by a demon than one of our own.”

  “So why am I even here?” I asked. “I was under the impression that this was for the good of all of us.”

  Lela had stopped fidgeting. She was all business now. One of the reasons I liked her was that when she had a purpose, she got things done. One of the reasons I didn't like her was that when she didn't have a purpose, she was a crying mess looking for someone to take care of her.

  Luckily, right now she had it together. “It is good for all of us. If it works it will offer us all a great deal of protection, but the fact still stands that the only reason we were even allowed to be a pack is that Abel for some reason pushed our paperwork through.” She explained. “When you have the leader of an entire sector pushing for you . . . well you get pushed.”

  I was well aware that Abel had been pushing for us, it was the why that I was fuzzy on. As far as I could tell, Abel liked us . . . and I didn’t trust that one little bit. I just wasn't that likeable.

  “Why do you think he did it?” I asked, suspicion clear in my voice.

  She shrugged. “I'm guessing something to do with your dad. It seems like they have a lot of history.” She smiled a half-smile. “Maybe he's just bored.”

  I was a seventeen year old, out of state and completely out of my league, all because of a werewolf's boredom . . . how comforting.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Almost 6:00. High time to get ready and get the evening over with.

  I took a deep breath and turned back to Lela. “Ok, tell me about this evening. What do we have to wear and what do we have to do?”

  Lela's eyes flicked around the room nervously. “We don't have to do much . . . but, we kind of have to dress up. Evening meetings for the whole group are formal. Morning meetings for the Alphas are mostly informal.”

  I shook my head and smiled. If wearing formal wear was the worst thing I had to do, I could deal. Why did I have the sneaking suspicion that dressing up was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg?

  Chapter Four

  Within an hour we had all marched back downstairs in our evening finery, which was seeming increasingly impractical as we tromped towards the meeting place in the middle of the woods.

  I had been harangued into purchasing a crimson strapless dress that ended just below my knees in preparation for the occasion. It was nice and simple except for the fact that it was made of silk. The bodice was fitted, kind of corset style, but had no other embellishments to speak of.

  The dress had cost a sizable chunk of the money I was awarded after the Dan incident. If anyone spit on it I would set their hair on fire, even though I'd probably never wear it again anyhow.

  Lela was in black again, chic and simple with her hair twisted back in a simple bun. Lucy's deep purple dress had sheer cap sleeves with lots of sparkles that continued down onto the dress. It was way more flashy than Lucy's normal attire. Her heels were a shiny silver with more little sparkles set in the straps. Her black hair hung long and sleek, perfectly straight and shiny without any styling whatsoever.

  I was the only girl without a coat. I was also the only girl not in heels. I could only be talked into so much. I didn’t give a damn that my sneakers looked horribly out of place. I had four other dresses in garment bags in my closet. The sneakers would be worn with all of them. My hair was a scruffy looking mess like usual. I'd had a brief stint of actually styling it, but that had gotten old fast.

  Jason looked rather snazzy beside me in charcoal dress pants and a shirt that was as dark as purple manages to get before it turns black. Someone had gotten Chase into a similar outfit but with black pants and a deep green shirt. They looked like they had been dressed to match.

  As my two bodyguards I supposed it was appropriate. Lela had probably coordinated it. Heck, maybe she'd
even bought the clothes for them. Jason could be pushed into shopping on occasion, but Chase would rather have his toenails pulled out then spend a day trying on clothes. I had expected Chase to look uncomfortable like me, but he actually wore his fancy attire quite well.

  Why did Jason and Chase need to fit in, and why were they even allowed to come to the meeting? My dad had arranged it. My dad wanted me to have bodyguards, and Abel wanted me to have a werewolf pack. Thus, strings were pulled, and we were all on our way to our first werewolf meeting. Allison, despite her protests, was staying in the room.

  We had exited the inn to a very surreal scene. Werewolves of all ages were dressed to the nines and making their way towards the woods. No one looked awkward in their heels. They all walked with an eerie, boneless grace. I would have looked awkward.

  The only thing to mar their perfect appearance were the lanyards with each individual's information dangling around their necks. I had my lanyard in my hand, rather than around my neck. I wasn't really sure if I wanted everyone to know who I was on sight, plus I hate lanyards.

  I noticed a few side-long glances as we converged with the crowd. I did my best to ignore them. Wouldn’t do to get in another fistfight on our very first day amongst the werewolves. Noticing a few of the wolves nearing our group, Jason and Chase took their posts on either side of me. A young couple hesitated, then walked away, but a single man in an all-black suit continued towards us.

  We had to walk directly at him to stay in the flow of wolves entering the woods, and I wasn’t about to swerve aside for him, so within a minute we were face to face.

  He was tall, but fell a few inches short of Jason and Chase. I placed him around 5’10”. A polite smile flooded his clean-shaven face. He had a strong jaw and full lips, very GQ . . . or at least what I imagine GQ to be. Slicked back blond hair completed his overly manicured appearance. He looked young to be so well put together. I placed him at around twenty. He held out a hand to me.