Wolf Of The Past: Family Lost - A Werewolf Romance (Spirit Of The Wolf Book 1)

by A. D. McLain

  “Yes.” He smiled and cupped his hand against the side of her face. “You have the wolf to keep you company, after all.”

  She wondered briefly how he could know about the black wolf, before she realized he meant the stuffed wolf he’d given her earlier. She smiled. “Yeah, I do. Thank you again.”

  “No problem.” He let his hand drop and stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She walked him to the door. He gently took her hand and kissed her fingers and her heart skipped another beat when he looked up at her over her fingers. “Until tomorrow.” His breath caressed her fingers before he let go of her hand and left.

  Nicole put away her books and checked the clock. It was late, so she checked the balcony, and sure enough, the wolf was waiting there. This time, when she went to sleep, one hand was on the black wolf, and the other was holding the stuffed wolf David had given her. She didn’t have any bad dreams.

  8

  “What are you doing?”

  Artemis jumped at the abruptness of the question and the sharp tone. Taking a deep breath to calm his racing heartbeat, he turned in the direction the voice had come from. As usual, he was playing games with Artemis, blurring his form in mist and shadows. It was a successful intimidation tool. Even after all this time, it could still affect Artemis far more than he was comfortable with. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m watching the girl.”

  The shadowy form solidified, inches from Artemis’ face. “I would recommend a more civil tone in my presence. I’m in a good mood today, but you might not be so lucky next time.”

  Artemis visibly gulped and a slow smile crept over his face just before he faded back into the shadows. “Now, as I was saying, why are you just watching her? Don’t you think it’s about time you approach her? After all, she’s just a girl, a child; defenseless in her ignorance.”

  “She is rarely alone,” Artemis said defensively. “That one is always watching her.” He pointed to the shadow of a man, crouched low in the far away trees. As Nicole moved, the man moved to follow her. “David follows during the day and the wolf is with her at night.”

  “Very well. Since you feel incapable of taking on that whelp, I will see to it they are separated. But I warn you, be ready to take advantage of the situation.” With that, he was gone.

  Artemis turned his attention back to Nicole in disgust. “Watch your tone,” he muttered. “I’d like to tell him just what he can watch.”

  He watched as Nicole paused to tie her shoelace. Her foot propped up on a bench, she took a thermos from her bag and drank some of its contents.

  Artemis experienced a momentary burst of nostalgia. She looked so much like her father when she turned just the right way. She reminded him of the way Richard had looked the night he’d come back from the war.

  “Richard’s home!” Artemis had cringed when those two words were yelled throughout the house. The excitement level rising throughout the house had been tangible. The Council members he’d been speaking to only moments before, left mid-sentence to greet Richard on his triumphant return from the war and beseech him once again to join their hallowed ranks. Artemis crumpled a napkin in his hand and threw it into the fireplace. The cloth ignited with a snap and burned swiftly.

  Artemis walked through the main hall, coming to a halt at the edge of the entry hall, tucked in behind the crowd of well-wishers gathered to talk to Richard. Unnoticed, he watched Richard smile and hug everyone, even the servants. Honestly, the man had no sense of decorum.

  “Come on in,” Richard called into the darkness beyond the front door.

  A woman slowly entered. Artemis stared at her familiar face for a moment, trying to place it. Other than a small shock of white hair at one temple, she was a picture of youth and beauty. “Mara!” his mother cried, gathering the woman into a hug.

  Mara smiled weakly and gracefully removed herself from the embrace. “You didn’t tell me so many people would be here,” she whispered to Richard. He shrugged as he was pulled into another conversation by the acting head of the Council, Vardum.

  Artemis tried to listen in on Richard’s conversation, but his mother had pulled Mara to the side, closer to Artemis and started talking her ear off, questioning her on what she had been doing, where she’d met up with Richard and a million other inconsequential questions. All he could hear was their voices.

  As they spoke, he finally realized where he knew Mara from. She was the woman his father had been such good friends with, when Artemis and Richard were still children. For some reason he didn’t understand, his father and mother had always loved Mara, always tried to make her feel welcome. But for some reason, years ago, she’d stopped coming by.

  Artemis hadn’t heard anyone mention her name in a very long time.

  “That must have been horrible,” his mother announced, responding to something Mara had said regarding an explosion and some children.

  “I’m just grateful Richard and Marcus were the one who found me and tended my wounds.”

  “And the children?” his mother asked cautiously.

  “All but one of them lived. Luckily, I was able to get them out in time.” Mara took his mother’s hand in hers and looked down at her sympathetically. “I was very sad to hear about Ari’s death.”

  His mother swallowed hard and blinked away tears at the mention of his father. “Thank you. But I know he is at peace. He died helping others, fighting for a cause he believed in. And I’m sure he would be very pleased to know you found your way back to us. He always hated how things ended the way they did.”

  “As did I.”

  His mother shook their joined hands emphatically and smiled broadly. “But you’re here now. It’s fate, that’s what it is. Now, let’s go and see about getting you something to eat. You must be famished after your long journey.”

  Mara smiled at her exuberance and let herself be led toward the kitchen.

  With them gone, Artemis inched toward Richard. Many of the people gathered had congregated into groups around the room and others had stared to retire for the night, leaving more room to move around.

  “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” he heard Vardum ask Richard.

  Richard sighed and leaned against the wall. “I’m sure. Maybe someday, but right now, don’t feel ready to take a place on the Council. My father was a wise man. I can’t even begin to fill his place. You should find someone more deserving. I am honored, honestly, but I don’t feel worthy of such great responsibility. I have done nothing to warrant your trust and I don’t want to obtain this position because of who my father was. I want to join the Council when the position is offered to me based on my own merits, when I believe I deserve it.”

  Vardum laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled wistfully. “The fact that you would refuse the position based on that reasoning proves how worthy you are of it, but I will honor your wishes and back off for the time being. Remember, if you ever change your mind, there will always be a place on the Council for you.”

  Artemis clenched his fists and hurriedly left the room. This was ridiculous! He was eldest born. He should be the one asked to fill his father’s place! Not Richard! That ungrateful little brat didn’t even want the position, and here they were, all fawning over him, trying to make him take it. It was pathetic and wrong.

  He paused at the servants’ quarters when he heard his name mentioned. Listening closely, he fought the urge to rip out all their throats.

  “Would you believe, Master Artie was actually expecting the position to be offered to him!” One of the servant’s laughed, crudely using the vulgar shortening of his name which Richard was so fond of using.

  “What do you expect?” another servant responded. “He never has been the brightest of fellows.”

  Others laughed and threw in their own additions to that statement.

  “Or strongest.”

  “Or bravest.”

  “He didn’t even go off to the war to reclaim his father’s body,” the first voice
announced. “What kind of coward does something like that? He stays at home while his father and little brother are risking their lives at war, doing the honorable thing?”

  Artemis backed away before he could do something he was fairly certain he wouldn’t regret, and continued on his way to the library. Closing the door behind him, Artemis slumped down in a chair by the fire and started to read.

  “It was utterly disgraceful, the way they were talking about you back there.”

  Artemis spun about to discover a man sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, bathed in shadows created by the burning fire. He hadn’t been there before, and a glance confirmed the door was still closed, as he’d left it. So how had this man gotten into the library without Artemis’ knowledge?

  “I could help you if you want,” the man continued.

  “Help me with what?” Artemis narrowed his eyes, hoping to get a better look at the man, but all he could see was vague outlines in the shadows.

  “I could help you gain the respect you deserve, the power you seek.”

  “And how are you going to do that?” Artemis opened his book again and leaned back in the chair. He’d been trying to get respect his entire life, and for nothing. Not even the servants respected him. He might as well leap off a high bridge and be done with it.

  “But what would that accomplish?” the man asked.

  Artemis turned to stare at the man. “What?”

  “If you kill yourself, they’ll still laugh at you, only louder and without restraint. With my help, you will win their respect, at last. No more, ‘Richard the hero’. No more, ‘Artemis the coward’.” The man watched Artemis pointedly, convincing him he was referring to the comments the servants had made.

  A shiver rippled down Artemis’ spine. “Who are you, and why would you help me?”

  The man in the shadows shrugged. “Merely someone who thinks we could be mutually beneficial to one another. I have the power to grant you something you want, and you have the power to get something I want.”

  Artemis’ eyes glazed over and his head was filled with images – images of himself walking into a room where the entire household had gathered to greet him. Visions of Vardum, begging him to join the Council while Richard stood off to the side, the dutiful little brother. A slow smile curled his lips. “Where do we start?”

  Artemis shook his head to clear the memory and followed Nicole to her next class. He’d come too far to back out now. Soon, his hard work would finally pay off.

  Mara closed the balcony door and suppressed a shudder. Something was out there. She could sense it, but she couldn’t make sense of what it might be. Why couldn’t she get a clear impression of it? Nothing had ever withstood her probing before. Whatever it was, it was incredibly strong, because she could sense it without even trying. An icy chill crept over her again, even though the balcony doors were closed. She needed to get to the bottom of this. Evil seemed to permeate the air and she needed to find its source before something horrible happened.

  She sat on the carpeted floor with her legs crossed, letting the fragrance of the incense focus her senses and help clear her mind. She worked through her breathing exercises slowly, focusing on her breathing and the smell of the incense. She took herself deeper, opening to whatever she might perceive, careful to keep her thoughts to a minimum. She could pinpoint the darkness very clearly now. Carefully, she studied it, trying to learn more about it. A sensation of pressure built up around her, and she quickly backed off. She’d have to find another way. Before she’d gotten very far though, the pressure increased again, this time far stronger. Mara blinked and waited for her vision to clear, realizing that she was staring up at the ceiling, with the floor beneath her back. Slowly, she sat up and surveyed her surroundings. The incense had already burned out and she decided to fix some tea and rest some before trying again. With that plan in mind, she headed to the kitchen, pausing at a small wall mirror on the way.

  She studied herself closely. The streak of white still stood out against her otherwise black hair. It was the only sign which revealed her age. Her face was still smooth and young, but perhaps if someone looked closely enough into her eyes, they’d see some of the many demons harbored there – but no one ever looked that close. She laughed. Most people thought she purposefully added the white streak to her hair for the effect. After all, no one else of their kind had lived long enough to develop any such signs of aging. Why should they assume any different of her? She shook her head at the young reflection staring back at her. Why indeed? She took a deep breath and went to make the tea. She had a lot of work to do.

  Rodney put down the phone and leaned his elbows on the desk, resting his face in his hands. He sighed in frustration. He had to find a way to get rid of Nicole Cameron and the evidence against him, but so far, nothing was working out. The girl always had people around her! He couldn’t get anyone near her place, not since the cops had started sending patrol cars around there all the time. He either had to risk snatching her in public, or risk the cops seeing him at her place. Neither option was particularly appealing.

  “Giving up so soon?”

  Rodney jumped and hurriedly surveyed the room for the source of the voice. A figure stood in one corner, hidden by the shadows.

  “Who’s there?” How could someone get into his office without him knowing it?

  “How soon they forget.”

  Abruptly, Rodney realized this was the same voice he’d heard in the street that night, on the way back from the bar. He’d almost convinced himself he’d imagined the whole thing, but now he wasn’t so sure.

  “I am very much real,” the voice said, sending chills up Rodney’s spine. “Now, about Miss Cameron. As I said before, you need to get a little creative. Surely you remember how you dealt with her parents? Draw from that experience.”

  Rodney’s eyes widened. “How could you know about that? No one knew.” If this guy had found out what he’d done, that meant others could. If that happened, he would be completely ruined.

  The only response was a low laugh, and the figure disappeared into the shadows. Rodney gathered up his nerve and walked over to that corner where the figure had stood, but there was nothing there, leaving Rodney to wonder once again if he’d imagined it all.

  Those haunting words echoed in his head. I am very much real. Rodney shivered and retreated back to his desk to figure out some way to get rid of Nicole Cameron. Maybe then, whoever the shadowy voice was would leave him alone.

  He slipped through the shadows, unseen. Lightly touching a stop sign, he turned it to face in the opposite direction. A short time later, the sound of squealing tires and honking horns caught his ear. Unfortunately, the cars didn’t seem to have hit each other though. What a pity. Oh well – the night was still young. He chuckled.

  He heard some small animals running off, rushing to escape him, and he grinned at the terror they were experiencing. Animals were the only ones he couldn’t completely hide his presence from – except for her. Her gentle mind probed again, and he pushed her away, wondering how many times he would have to do it before she would give up. That last attempt had been significant. He was impressed she’d kept at it this long. Still, she would stop when she learned her attempts were futile. He wasn’t about to let her discover his identity, not until he was ready. By then, he would finally have what was rightfully his, and she wouldn’t have a chance against him.

  He gazed up at Nicole Cameron’s window and a smile spread on his face. These long years of waiting would finally be over.

  He took a folder from his robe and looked at the single file he’d withheld from Artemis, absentmindedly pushing away another mind probe, in the manner one would swat at an insect. He opened the file and studied the picture. Meghan Freeman didn’t look a thing like her father, which was fortunate for her. It had been quite the stroke of luck, finding that information regarding Nicole’s one good friend. It was certainly interesting how things had a way of turning out. He didn’t know exact
ly how he’d present this information, and he didn’t really think it would assist with his plans, but he could still have some fun with it. He chuckled softly. It was so much fun manipulating people, because they were so easily led. He tucked the folder back beneath his robe and walked away. He had to admit, he was really beginning to enjoy himself.

  The clock on the wall ticked loudly, echoing through the otherwise silent room. The light above Mark flickered and made a popping noise before finally giving out. “Wonderful,” he muttered. At least the sun was coming up, so he could see well enough. The sunlight made the room appear much different to how it had been under the artificial light. The blinds on the window were cast their shadows across the room. He glanced outside and saw the many colors swirling in the sky as the sun passed the horizon and began its inexorable march toward the sky. Some things never changed, no matter how long one lived. The sun always rose in the morning and it always set at night. Mark turned his attention away from the sunrise and got back to the matter at hand.

  He sorted through his papers, making sure he’d finished everything. Satisfied he was done, he put the papers aside and pulled out an unmarked file folder from his personal investigations. ‘Nicole Cameron’ was written clearly on the first page. He stared at Nicole’s picture and thought briefly about Richard. The resemblance between them was easily apparent.

  The artist in him was itching to do a sketch of Nicole’s pretty features. Maybe he’d get the chance sometime. He scanned the words below the picture. If only he could prove Steagel had something to do with her adoptive parent’s death, then he could remove that threat. Perhaps they should have told her the truth from the beginning, then she would have been able to take better care of herself.

  No, David was right. If they hadn’t hidden her away as they did, she would have been at greater risk for years. They would have needed to watch her a lot more closely, taking away most of her freedom. At least this way, she’d been allowed to have a normal childhood.