by Reed, Zoe
“It’s strange,” Will whispered from his seat against the wall, and both Lacey and I looked over at him for explanation. “She’s still in wolf form. Usually when we’re really unconscious, or dead, we change back, but she hasn’t.”
Up until this point I’d been too worried to realize it, but Will was right. So what did that mean? Was Camille different, or was this some kind of special poison? She shouldn’t have even been poisoned in the first place, and that caused a sudden fit of rage to spring from the depths of me. I stood to pace, every second growing more and more furious.
“What are you doing?” Lacey had sat down next to Camille, and she glanced up at me from her spot on the floor, watching me worriedly.
“We know who did this,” I growled. “Vampires. I’m going to kill them. I’m going to find them and kill them.”
I made a move for the door, but in one swift motion Will got in front of me. “That’s not the safest decision.”
I knew he was right, but only rage fueled me now, blind, protective rage. “Move. They poisoned her and now they’re going to pay.”
Lacey scrambled up and over to Will’s side to help block the exit. “Kyla, how are you going to find them?” There was silence as I thought about it, but she answered before I could come up with any ideas. “You’re not. You need to stay here.”
“I’m going to find them,” I repeated, growing frustrated that they wouldn’t let me go. I tried to squeeze between them, but they stood tight. “Move!” I pushed harder this time, and then let out a furious snarl when they continued to hold their ground. Leading with my shoulder I tried to rush past them, but Will had had enough. He wrapped his arms around my waist and carried me like a fit-throwing child back toward the middle of the room. “Let me go! I have to find them! What if she dies?” I yelled frantically as I squirmed in his grasp, trying desperately to kick out of it, but he was too strong for me. Fury gave way to panic and I stopped struggling, and when he let me go I collapsed to the ground with tears stinging my eyes. “What if she dies?”
Lacey knelt beside me and wrapped a warm arm around my shoulders, squeezing me gently. “She’s not going to die. She’ll be okay.”
I sighed and made my way to the unconscious wolf, where I buried my face in the soft brown fur on its ribs, letting it soak up a couple of my silent tears. I felt so helpless. If Camille was being attacked by anything, I could help. I could fight. But poison, there was nothing I could do about that. So I lay there, completely oblivious to everything but her heartbeat and scent. Minutes later, after what seemed like an eternity, we could hear the distant sound of the front door opening.
It wasn’t long after that that Eli came running in, followed closely by the others. “Still no changes?” He eyed me, and then looked to Lacey, who was shaking her head. “That’s a good sign. She’s still in wolf form,” he mused, curiously studying the motionless figure on the floor before stepping forward. “Let’s carry her into the library.”
Eli and Will carefully picked Camille up and hauled her into the room next door, where they set her on the carpet in front of the fireplace. We all followed them in and stood around, watching nervously while Eli stooped beside her.
He placed his hand on the wolf’s chest, and then ran it through the fur around its neck. “She doesn’t feel too hot, and she doesn’t seem to be in any kind of pain.” He continued to study her intently for the next couples minutes until he sighed and straightened. “Will, take Wesley and David back out to the hole. See if you can find anything useful. Everyone else, give us some space. All we can do is wait.”
I watched as everyone but Eli and Lacey filed out. I knew he’d said ‘everyone,’ but there was no way I was leaving, not when Camille could be in danger. Once out of the public eye, Eli collapsed into an armchair at the center of the room, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Wondering if he knew I was still standing there, I timidly cleared my throat to let him know, but he made no startled move to regain his aura of authority.
“Do you know what it is?” Lacey asked, taking her time to light the fireplace and then sitting in a chair next to her father’s.
I remained standing at the side of the room, visible but not engaging. The ways I could act around the Alpha were still unclear to me, and with Camille not able to help, I wanted to be as unobtrusive as possible.
Eli sighed heavily, dropping his hand from his face. “No human poison would keep her in wolf form. This is supernatural, it has to be.”
Lacey pulled at her lip thoughtfully for a few moments before asking, “The vampires are messing with magic?”
“There’s no other explanation.” Eli nodded, his sad eyes falling on the wolf, and I could guess what he was thinking. That Camille shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be back in Oregon where she was in danger. “I just hope this isn’t permanent.”
Permanent? The word caught my attention, and I instinctively strode to the unconscious wolf to sit on the floor nearby, as if my presence would have some beneficial effect. “She could stay like this?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “Anything is possible at this point.”
I looked worriedly at Camille, and then lay down to face the fireplace with my head resting on the side of the wolf’s stomach. I knew Eli and Lacey were watching me, but I didn’t care. It comforted me being able to hear Camille’s heartbeat, to feel her chest rise and fall. The heat of the fire warmed my face, spreading throughout my entire body to fill me with serenity. Of course I was worried for Camille, but somehow I knew everything would be all right. I could feel it. As I lay so close to her heart, I could feel that familiar energy flowing through me. A lively, healthy energy that was bright as ever.
“Kyla.” I was being nudged, and opened my eyes to see Lacey holding a cup of coffee. “Kyla, it’s morning, wake up.”
“I fell asleep?” I groggily pushed myself off the still unmoving Camille and rubbed my eyes, the cold of the fireless morning making me shiver.
She nodded and handed me the hot mug. “Yeah, you slept there all night.”
“Thanks.” I sipped on the strong coffee and visually examined the wolf. Still no changes. Camille was knocked out in the same position, looking like she was sleeping. “Did they find anything?”
Lacey pointed to a pile of cluttered books on the table in the middle of the room. “They were up all night trying to figure it out. They’ve got a couple theories, some involve her waking up pretty soon, some not for a few days.” She squatted next to me and gently ran her fingers through Camille’s fur. “You should eat though. We have to leave for school soon.”
I inspected Camille, and knew there was nothing that could pull me away until she was awake. The thought of her regaining consciousness with nobody around to comfort or take care of her was troubling. “I’m not going, she needs me here.”
“I figured you’d say that,” she chuckled knowingly and straightened up. “I’d stay too if I didn’t have my dad giving me no other choice but to go.”
“I’ll let you know if anything happens,” I assured her, and then smiled goodbye as she turned to leave the room.
I sat there for another minute, sipping my coffee and trying to figure out something to keep me occupied while I watched over Camille. I eyed a box of matches near the side of the fireplace and moved closer to start a flame. The comfortable warmth of it immediately filled the room, making me sleepy even though I’d just awoken. I pushed myself off the floor and sat in one of the chairs around the cluttered coffee table. The house was completely silent except for the crackling of the embers, and I rested for a good fifteen minutes in the seat until I finished my drink, thinking about how time went painfully slow when I wasn’t sleeping or doing something engaging. I looked searchingly around the bright room, taking in every detail when my eyes fell on a book I hadn’t yet noticed sitting on the mantel of the fireplace. I tiptoed over to it, afraid to make any noise in the silence of the house, stepped deliberately over the wolf, and grabbed the volume, taking it back to my seat.
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br /> It was probably the oldest thing I’d ever seen. So old that it wasn’t bound with glue and a cardboard spine like all the other books in the library. Its browning, cloth-like pages were loosely set in a worn leather cover. The antiquity of it left it flimsy to hold, like it would collapse under the gentlest touch. Etched into the dark leather cover were the title ‘Leu Garoul’ and the head of a wolf. The title of the book was intriguing in itself. I’d heard of the term ‘loup garou’ to mean werewolf, and it sounded very much like Leu Garoul.
I opened the book with interest, but much to my disappointment the entirety of it was written in a foreign language. Despite not being able to read it, each severely faded word and every picture was hand-inked in the most beautiful penmanship I’d ever seen. As I slowly flipped through the pages, taking in the artistic design, it made me slightly ashamed of my own sloppier handwriting.
Delicate footsteps sounded at the door of the library, and I looked up to see Wesley taking a seat next to me. “Leu Garoul.” He titled his head toward the book in my lap.
“Werewolf?” I asked as I closed and reexamined the cover of the text. He nodded while I opened it back up and ran a hand over the elegant writing. “What language is it?”
“Old French,” he said, leaning forward to double check the writing. “Old, old French,” he clarified with a chuckle.
“Oh.” As I studied the book some more I realized the author hadn’t signed it. “Who wrote it?”
“The very first Alpha, Bastien Moreau. There are a lot more of us now than there were back then. We didn’t need American Packs, or English Packs, or Russian Packs. In the 9th century, I think around eight hundred-fifty, Bastien traveled all over seeking out mutts, gathering information on their different experiences, finding out what was normal for a werewolf.” Wesley delicately removed the book from my lap and laid it in his own, running a gentle hand over the cover of our legacy. “Bastien’s father was a werewolf, so he was taught from the start how to control his Changes and desires as best as they knew how. Most of the mutts he found were living in chaos, slaves to instinct, running from the law. Wolves need a leader to survive, so he stepped in and, with the mutts that were willing, created the first pack.”
“What’s all this writing about?” I glanced at Camille to make sure she was still doing okay before curiously turning in my chair to face Wesley.
“These are his findings, the structure of a pack, ways to turn a person, safest times and methods to hunt. Of course, a lot’s changed since then, but this was the start of everything we are.” Wesley stood from his chair, carefully replacing the book on top of the fireplace before sitting back down.
“Can you read it?” I asked as I watched him, and then when he raised an eyebrow I added, “The writing, the old, old French.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Hardly, it’s pretty different from modern French. A few of the things I can get the gist of though, and it helps that Bastien was a decent artist.” I nodded understandingly, but I could feel Wesley’s eyes on me as I returned my attention to the fire. “How are you dealing?” he asked eventually.
“Dealing?” My eyebrows furrowed at his choice of words.
“Yeah, dealing.” He nodded. “Being turned isn’t an easy thing. I mean, are you okay? You’re not troubled, or unhappy, or angry?”
“Oh, no,” I said instantly, my first defensive reaction to his question, and then took a minute to think about it. “I mean, it’s definitely not easy, but I haven’t really had time to be resentful for it. I was a pretty mad yesterday when I found out it was really Camille that bit me.”
“Camille bit you?” The sudden excitement that brightened Wes’ expression as I nodded startled me. “That’s brilliant.”
“It’s brilliant?” I asked, and the obvious confusion on my face made him smile amusedly.
“Yeah, because of the kind of relationship you and her have,” he paused and eyed me carefully for a second before correcting himself. “Or, had.”
Nobody ever really talked about it, but I should have assumed everyone knew about Camille and I. In spite of the painful reminder that Camille might never want to be with me again, he’d officially piqued my curiosity. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know it’s not entirely normal for werewolves to fall in love with humans?” he asked. I knew it wasn’t common, but he’d said ‘normal’. I squinted, cocking my head unsurely to urge him on. “It would be like a dog falling in love with a monkey. Call it a biological safety net, but usually something prevents it so neither turns into prey.” The corners of Wes’ mouth turned up in a smirk, and he glanced over at the unconscious wolf. “Camille’s a bit of a freak.”
I chuckled a little, and then chewed the inside of my cheek thoughtfully. “What about when it’s not love?” I asked, knowing werewolf and human relations weren’t strictly emotional.
“Fine, you caught a hole in my metaphor,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, my point is, usually when someone gets bitten it’s on accident. It’s rare for a bitten werewolf to even maintain a relationship with their maker, let alone have a relationship like the one you and Camille did. In theory you could make that bond so strong your souls practically become one. You could feel the other’s pain from clear across the globe, or know instinctively what the other’s thinking without saying it, feed off of each others’ energy.”
I knew what he meant immediately. The electric current whenever her and I were touching or working closely, or how I could feel deep down that she’d wake up all right. I just wished the bond was strong enough that I could tell why she was having such a hard time forgiving me. “But what about when that relationship isn’t there anymore?” I asked him, and I could tell he knew what I meant by the somewhat uncomfortable way his eyes darted from me to Camille.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged honestly. “There isn’t much data on it. Most of what I’m telling you is little more than speculation. To most of us it’s a rumor.”
I nodded understandingly. Rumor it might be, but it already felt more real to me than a simple rumor. “How do you know so much?”
Wesley chuckled like it was an inside joke, and shrugged. “I’m older than I look, and I’ve done my research.”
“Yeah, I can never tell how old you guys really are.” I studied the seemingly early-twenty year old’s features thoughtfully for a few moments. “How old are you?”
“Forty-four,” he answered with a smirk. “I was bitten when I was twenty.”
“You were bitten?” I asked, horribly masking the shock from my voice. “I assumed most Pack wolves are born.”
“Most are,” he agreed. “But Eli’s a merciful man, and luckily for me a good judge of character.”
“How’s that?”
“The reason a lot of mutts kill people is because they don’t know Changes can be controlled. They figure it’s like the legends or Hollywood – getting bit means Changing on a full moon and not being able to control it at all. That’s what I first thought when I got bit, and I hated it.” Wesley stared toward the fire as his eyes gained a reminiscent detachment. “Without guidance, everything from the pain of it straight down to the instincts feels like a curse.”
Knowing that someone I knew had to go through a Change alone caused me to frown. I’d have never gotten through the adjustment if it weren’t for Camille and Luna. “Did you kill people?”
He nodded slowly. “A couple. I was living in Chicago, Phasing in alleys and back roads. When people feel they’re being stalked by something they can’t see their first instinct is to run, which makes not chasing impossible. I was drawing a lot of unwanted attention. Eli had been watching me for some time, deciding if I should be taken out or if I was worth saving. When they brought me back here about fifteen years ago, Eli and Camille’s father taught me everything they knew.”
“Wow.” I shook my head in disbelief. “I never realized how easy I have it.”
Wesley smiled knowingly, brightening the somber mo
od with his signature grin. “It’s never easy, especially since you’re so young, but you couldn’t have picked a better family than Camille’s.”
“I can definitely agree with that,” I smiled my consent, turning a fond eye toward the wolf.
He glanced down at his wristwatch and then stood with a sigh. “I’ve got to go to school.”
“School?” I laughed. “Aren’t you a bit old for that?”
“You’re never to old to learn.” He winked playfully, and with a friendly wave left me alone in the silent library.
As I sank back into my chair and gazed at Camille, a deep sense of longing pulled at my heart. I missed her. Not just because she’d been unconscious, but I missed the way we used to be. The way she reciprocated my smile when we looked at each other, how easily she made me laugh, and above all the way she felt. It had been three months since everything had gone to hell. I knew she wanted me to leave it alone, but shouldn’t she have been able to forgive me by now? Maybe it was really all an excuse because she just didn’t love me anymore. Maybe it was time I started to come to terms with the idea that she’d never want me back. I exhaled despairingly and stood up to make my way to the large wolf. Eventually I’d be able to come to terms with seeing Camille as a friend, even if it would take a while. I lay back down next to her and rested my head on the wolf’s side. It didn’t take long for the crackling and warmth of the fire to lull me to sleep.
What seemed like minutes later the dropping of my head woke me. I groaned sleepily and folded my arms to support my cheek, which was now between Camille’s naked, curled-up human body. That jolted me awake, and I awkwardly scurried away so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea. When I regained enough composure to look back at her I realized I didn’t need to worry, because while the girl was no longer in wolf form, she was still unconscious. Taking a calming breath, I pushed myself off the floor and stretched. Hopefully Camille Phasing back to normal meant the poison was wearing off, and soon she’d wake up. Deciding she needed to be covered with a blanket, I strode down the hall and to the living room to grab the one I remembered was draped over the couch. On the way back I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall of the library, and almost on command my stomach growled. It was already three in the afternoon. I’d slept a lot longer than I’d meant to, so long that Lacey would probably be back from school soon.