Phantoms of the Otherworld (In Spiritu Et Veritate)

by Reed, Zoe

  I could have eaten more, but as I went back for another round there was no food left, so I settled for more conversation. “Where’s Julian?” I asked as I noticed the absence of the one other werewolf I’d met in California.

  “On a much deserved vacation,” Eli answered after taking a sip of his coffee. “He’s visiting family in Arizona for a few months.”

  I nodded in understanding and agreement. If anybody deserved a vacation, it was Julian – nothing like a few days of torture to get you some sympathy and a Pack-paid trip. It made me wonder how Eli managed to house multiple werewolves and pay for Camille’s, Lacey’s, and my tuition at the same time, and decided I’d ask Camille about it later on. Now that the food was gone and everyone had scraped their plates clean, there was no reason for anyone to hang around. I sat patiently with Camille while everyone dumped their dishes in the sink and dispersed to do their own thing.

  “Ready to start training?” Wesley asked from the gap between the bar and kitchen, and then motioned for us to go with him.

  I got up and followed him to the rear of the house, closely trailed by a tired and still grumbling Camille. Shortly after we started I grew surprised at how long we’d been walking. While the house did look big, from the front it didn’t look this big. We walked down a long, rounded hall until we reached the back of the house, and Wesley led us onto a patio. The patio, much to my pleasure, was indoors, with walls made completely of glass so as to give the feel of being outside without letting in the cold. The floors were a shiny white marble that reflected the sun at us, both warming and lighting the bright room at the same time.

  “Are we going to Phase in here?” I asked, warily looking at the glass walls, which would be a hazard to a bunch of large, rambunctious wolves.

  Wes simply shook his head, a mischievous smirk turning up the corner of his mouth. “This is where we’ll be doing yoga.”

  My jaw dropped, and Camille shared an equal reaction as she scoffed, “Yoga?”

  “Yes, Camille, yoga,” Wes replied sarcastically, but still he received skeptical glances from both of us. “Okay, stand on one foot,” he instructed, and I watched curiously as Camille did what she was told. “Now fold your arms across your chest.”

  Once Camille did so he gave her a second to steady her balance, and then lightly tapped her on the shoulder. I held back a laugh as Camille stumbled, having to stand normally so she wouldn’t fall over. However, Wes had made his point. He’d barely touched her, and if she’d had better balance she wouldn’t have been affected by it.

  “Controlling your Phases isn’t just about emotional control. You need to know, intimately, your body’s limits. You need to be able to control things like your breathing.” When he saw both our eyes glaze in disinterest, he added, “You’ll find exercises like this help your fighting, too.” We still just stared at him blankly, so he stopped trying to convince us. “Okay, well, you’re doing this regardless, so sit.”

  “Yes, Master Wesley,” Camille said tauntingly, and put her palms together and bowed, causing me to burst into laughter.

  Wesley glowered at both of us, but lowered himself to the floor and waited patiently for us to follow his lead. Once we’d sat across from him he crossed his legs pretzel-style, and motioned for us to do the same. “Put your hands on your knees, and make sure your back is straight. That means no slouching, Kyla.” I sighed and twisted my tired body until I relaxed enough to maintain good posture. “When you take in a breath through your nose, you don’t want to use your nostrils. You use the back of your mouth, like this.” The light hissing sound of air going through Wesley’s throat sounded uncomfortable, and I couldn’t figure out what he meant. It took a few tries, but after finally replicating the sound, I understood. “Good,” he praised happily. “Now close your eyes and breathe just like that, but don’t let your shoulders or chest move. You want your ribs to expand out, not up.”

  Wesley closed his eyes and started breathing. Curious as to whether Camille was doing it or not I glanced over, only to find her looking at me with the same puzzled expression that I had. I held back a giggle and shrugged, closing my eyes to do what I was supposed to. After about three minutes of sitting there and just breathing, I began to grow restless. My mind wandered, and I put off the urge to shake my leg or tap my fingers. Eventually I opened one eye to see what the other two were doing, and, finding that they were still focused, I sighed silently and continued the exercise.

  Forcing myself to relax, I was finally able to keep my mind at ease. I concentrated on the smells that whipped through my nose with every breath. The subtle sounds of chirping birds from outside the thin glass walls. Camille’s slow, steady breathing next to me. Now that I thought about it, we were sitting rather close. Even though our folded knees weren’t touching, I was close enough to feel the heat that emanated from her warm body. It made the restlessness return. I desperately wanted to be closer. The only sign she’d given to let me know she even still cared about me was coming to Oregon, and even though that was a big statement, it wasn’t affectionate. Or intimate.

  “Kyla, focus on your breathing,” Wes warned without opening his eyes.

  I hadn’t realized I’d started breathing faster, but I instantly tried to regain my inward balance. Only, I couldn’t. Not with that tiny inch of space between Camille and I. It embodied the terrifying distance I felt her forcing between us, mocking the fact that she could live without me, and it was driving me crazy. So I twisted my body, pretending to stretch as I discreetly scooted that inch closer so our knees would touch. I rapidly closed my eyes to act like I hadn’t noticed, but I knew the action had caused her to look over. I could feel her watching me. Studying. And I prayed she wouldn’t pull away.

  Much to my content, she didn’t move, and moments later I felt that heavy gaze removed from me. I let the corner of my mouth turn up in relief as the heat from Camille’s body flowed freely to mine, filling my very core with the calming, satiating energy I needed to achieve perfect composure. For the next five minutes that’s how we sat, breathing deeply, in and out, at such a similar and steady pace I felt we could be one person. It was comfortable, as though now that I was touching her, I was where I belonged. Camille was home.

  After a while Wes stirred and stood, motioning us to our feet so he could show us the next exercise. The following few hours consisted of us doing various poses and exercises meant to increase our connection with our own bodies, and I was feeling the connection all right. Even if we were only doing yoga for hours, I never would have thought it could make me sore.

  “Just thirty more seconds,” Wes announced as we stood in a one legged pose. I sighed with relief, my leg was shaking and I couldn’t hold myself up for much longer. A few moments later he set his other foot on the ground and gave a content grin. “Nicely done. You girls hungry?”

  Both of us nodded vigorously, and he chuckled as he led us out the glass door in the side of the room to the limitless backyard. We walked around the side of the house until we were hidden from everything but the forest. There were no windows on the exterior of this side, and no sign of the driveway. No sign of anyone but us. There was, however, a two foot, camouflaged, watertight box against the wall. Wesley lifted open the lid and swiftly removed his jacket and shirt, casually throwing them into it.

  “We’re Changing? I thought we were going to eat?” I asked in shock, averting my eyes as Wes continued to strip.

  “We’re doing both,” he answered, a smug smile parting his lips when my confusion deepened. “You’re going to catch your meal. I need to see how you’re doing in wolf form, and this gives me a good opportunity.” He finished piling his clothes into the box, and took a few steps away from Camille and I. “Woo, it’s nippy isn’t it? Make sure you close the lid before you Phase.”

  Without giving us a chance to ask questions or protest, Wes Phased, and an enormous multicolored wolf took his place. His tongue lolled out happily, and I could see the grin flash in his gray eyes before he boun
ded off into the forest, leaving us on our own as his color-specked fur disappeared in the woods.

  “But I’ve never hunted before!” I called after the retreating wolf, which undoubtedly heard me but paid no mind.

  I looked worriedly to Camille, who just chuckled and shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’ve been dying to run since we got here.” I watched nervously as she shrugged off her jacket. “You’re going to do fine. Luna always bragged about how good you were getting. Hunting is just like sneaking up on her.”

  I sighed in defeat, and copied Camille in taking off my jacket and throwing it into the box. She was the first to finish undressing, and Changed as I threw my last article of clothing away with the rest of them. I closed the lid quickly while jumping from foot to bare foot, trying to keep the snow from making them too cold. I pushed away the shivers growing in my spine and focused on the start of the itching in my limbs.

  The itching rapidly grew to tingling, and I embraced the last moment of cold against my skin before I felt the pain like my body was being ripped to shreds. After the short flash was gone, I stretched my giant wolf paws in front of me and shook out my golden fur. Camille was right about the pain of Phasing getting easier. I’d almost passed out from it the first time. I wasn’t sure whether it was hurting less or I was just getting used to it, but either way, it came and went more fleetingly every time.

  I looked up to see my dark brown companion rolling playfully in the snow, kicking it in all directions with her paws and scooping it with her mouth to throw it into the air. I crouched and dug my toes into the snow, watching closely for the perfect time to pounce. It was easy enough since she wasn’t paying any attention to me. I scooted forward a couple inches, and once she was rolling on her back I bolted toward the wolf, eventually plowing into the side of her. The dark wolf let out a growl of surprise, but swiftly rolled onto its feet and lowered its front paws playfully. She sprang, and thinking that she intended to land right on top of me, I ducked. Camille landed behind me, but instead of turning to pounce again she took off into the forest. I followed, and soon realized we were tracking Wesley’s trail.

  It led us about a mile deep into the forest, where we spotted him hunched low to the ground. Thinking he hadn’t noticed us I crouched, about to show him just how good at sneaking I was, but I’d gotten too far ahead of myself. He glanced back at us, ears low to his head, and lifted his nose to the air, signaling us to sniff. I immediately recognized the scent as prey, though I was uncertain of what kind. It was something big judging by the strength of the smell. Deer, bison, hell, I wouldn’t put it past a werewolf Wes’s size to see a bear as a suitable meal.

  With my belly to the ground, I crawled alongside Camille to where Wes was crouched behind a small bush. I lifted myself up just enough to see what he was watching – a deer, and a big one at that. My eyes met Wesley’s, and he nodded his head in the direction of the animal, telling me to go for it. I almost whined with fear as I shook my own head, refusing to go, but when he nudged me with his snout it was clear he’d made up his mind.

  I sighed and peeked around the bush for the best way to sneak up on the animal. It was standing behind a tall collection of shrubs, only the top of its head bobbing up as it took breaks from feeding on something under the snow. Fortunately the forest was thick, leaving plenty of places for me to hide. Even more fortunately, the deer didn’t have antlers. Otherwise I would have flat out refused. I didn’t know the first thing about hunting. Yeah, I’d snuck up on Luna plenty of times, but I didn’t know how well deer could see or smell. Or even where I was supposed to jump, or push, or bite. As I crept my way closer and closer while hiding behind trees and bushes, I knew I didn’t have the slightest clue.

  Eventually I was hunched behind a large tree about thirty feet from my target, and ironically, I was terrified. I’d gotten as far as I could without it becoming aware of me, and from here on out I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I carefully studied the deer, and while it was tall, it looked thin and feeble. I decided I’d run for it and then pounce on its back, hopefully buckling it to the ground. It worked every time I did it to Luna. Without another thought, I sprinted straight for it.

  It immediately took off in the opposite direction, but I already had my momentum built and easily caught up. Finally, with a last push off the ground and jaws wide open, I sprang to land a bite wherever I could, managing to get a hold of the deer’s flank. Instantly after, I felt a sharp pain shoot through me as one of its hooves caught me in the shoulder, causing me to yelp loudly and release my grip. I tried to maintain my balance and continue chasing the freed animal, but the injury in my limb caused me to stumble, and I rolled across the snow before coming to a halt on my side.

  Camille was the first to reach me, and she nudged me worriedly as I lie there, willing the stabbing away. I growled in aggravation, in too much pain to be touched, but she nudged me again. When I still refused to get up, she took the scruff of my neck in her teeth, and pulled me off the ground so I would stand. As she studied the hurt front limb I realized she was checking to make sure it wasn’t broken. To appease her I stood on all fours, and even though the shooting pain wasn’t subsiding, I was able to put weight on it, thankfully signaling my shoulder was only bruised.

  I took a few difficult strides to play off the pain I really felt, trying to tell myself that my ego was hurt more than my shoulder. Did a deer seriously just kick me? Wesley watched the spectacle silently with a mixture of concern and amusement in his eyes, and I could tell he was deciding what to do. I lowered my head at him and let out a whimper, letting him know I was done for the day. Thankfully he seemed okay with that, and we made our way slowly but surely back to the house.

  “Kyla, you took that hit like a pro!” Wes praised happily as he pulled his clothes back on.

  “Gee, thanks,” I mumbled unenthusiastically. I was struggling to pull my clothes on since the jabbing pain returned every time I moved my arm.

  Camille must have noticed each time I winced, because she grabbed my coat out of the box and held it up behind me. I let her help as I pushed each of my arms through, and she delicately slid it over my shoulders. Then I felt a gentle tug on my uninjured arm to turn me around, and even though it wasn’t necessary, she began to zip my jacket for me.

  “Thanks,” I murmured, with difficulty since my breath hitched at how close she was. My grateful eyes met hers as she finished sliding the zipper up, and, as if suddenly growing shy, she gave a timid smile and backed away. “So, lunch?” I asked Wes, trying to get my mind off the wanton longing Camille had put in my chest.

  Wes started to lead the way back into the house, glancing behind at us as he walked. “I guess I’ll make something. I owe you that much,” he winked apologetically at me. “Why don’t you guys hang out in the living room? I’ll call you when it’s done.”

  Both of us nodded, and once we made our way into the house we parted with Wes and walked to the living room. I was expecting it to be a large, dark, old-fashioned room lined with bookshelves and globes. Instead, it was rather light and modern. A large television was mounted on the farthest of the white walls in front of a long, black leather couch, and in one corner sat a beautiful, antique-looking grand piano. Aside from those it was a rather empty room. A few decorative paintings hung on the walls, and a black shag rug took up the large space from the door to the back of the couch. It made me wonder what other rooms were in the house and how they were decorated.

  “Do you want to watch TV?” Camille asked as she pointed to the large couch.

  I shook my head and continued glancing around the room. “The house is a lot bigger than it looks, huh?” I looked to Camille, who nodded. “Want to give me a tour?”

  She gave a consenting shrug. “A lot’s changed since the last time I was here, but we can explore together.”

  I nodded my approval, following her out of the living room and farther down the hall away from the kitchen. I soon discovered that the house was built in a sort of circle, each
of the rooms arranged around the grand entranceway.

  “Bathroom.” Camille flicked on the light of a small bathroom, and then turned it back off before I got a chance to go in because there was nothing out of the ordinary.

  The next room we ended up in was a small library. Each of the four walls was lined from floor to ceiling with books. There was a single break in the bookshelves on one side of the room to make a spot for a large brick fireplace, above which there was an old painting of someone I assumed was an important family member. The dark, oriental carpet matched perfectly with the large chandelier that hung high on the ceiling, illuminating the room in a bright glow. Five leather armchairs were arranged in a circle at the center of the small library, set around a low, dark wood coffee table. I took a deep, satisfying breath. The whole room smelled like that one book I’d discovered at Camille’s house – old, textured, and rich.

  Suddenly the light dimmed and then brightened back to normal, and I passed a startled look to Camille, who laughed as she pushed down on the light switch once more. “Mood lighting.”

  I beamed as the chandelier dimmed, and a small amount of light was cast around the room, playing off the dark wood and textured ceiling like sparkles. It was magical, and I wouldn’t have minded lying comfortably in front of the fireplace to relax in here for hours.

  “Ready?” Camille interrupted, and motioned for me to follow her to the next room. As we continued through the house, she pointed to an open door without stopping, “We already saw the glass room.”

  Eventually we reached a closed door farther down the hall, and Camille stopped before turning the handle. I watched silently as for the next few seconds she stood paralyzed, staring at the door like she was afraid of what was behind it. Then she sighed, pushed it open, and stepped into the room. I was surprised at where we were. The entire back wall of the room was a window, letting in a flow of natural light. Aside from the glass room, this had to be the brightest in the house. The walls were a luminous white, and, just like the glass room, the floors were a pure, brilliant marble. Near the sidewall was a simple wooden chair sitting in front of a painting easel. Next to those was a white metal cabinet, which had been painted and covered with beautiful vine like designs of all different colors. I assumed inside the cabinet were various painting supplies like brushes, oils and canvases. Marvelous paintings of different people, objects and animals hung on and leaned against every inch of wall. Now that I looked more closely at the white floor, it was spotted all over with accidental drips of color. As I did with the library, I inhaled, and the wonderful smell of oil paint and fabric flooded my nostrils.