by Kat Zaccard
“I’m surprised Barbara voted against her daughter. She’s never done that before.”
“Yeah, I was surprised but pleased, obviously.” What did it matter now? I was stuck.
“I wonder, what are her motives?” Nadia’s political mind spun in its machinations. “Everything she’s ever done was to further her family name. Perhaps she’s given up on Christina holding the throne?”
“Perhaps she wants Jillian to have Logan all to herself?” I grumbled, but Nadia took me seriously.
“Perhaps.”
Chapter 9
Returning to Greenville was a morose affair, and Shea was tired of my pouting by the time we pulled into the bus terminal. She reminded me that while of course I had every right to be depressed, I’d better not complain to my parents or they’d have even more reason to keep me home from Mt. Henley. I wanted to argue, but I knew she was right. Plus, I was touched that she was that worried I might get stuck in Wisconsin for the school year.
My dad picked us up from the bus station and asked us about our trip on the way home. My parents thought we’d gone to Nadia’s again, so we gave vague answers that weren’t quite lies. I hated keeping my werewolf world a secret from my parents, but I knew it was for the best. Not to mention, how would I start that conversation?
I managed to fake smile my way through dinner, though I could tell my mom knew something was up. I made excuses for Shea and me, that we were jet-lagged, and we headed to bed early. Shea was right. I was going to have to work harder at keeping my feelings hidden. Alone in my room, I couldn’t help but cry. Shea let me be, then rubbed my back when my sobs started to ebb. Finally, I’d worn myself out. I sat up, wiping my cheeks.
“I’m sorry; you must be sick of this by now,” I said to Shea.
“Sick of what?”
“You know, the Alice rollercoaster reality show.” My eyes rolled so hard they hurt.
“Alice, we all got problems, but most of us aren’t betrothed to theirs. I don’t know what I’d do if I were you.” Shea’s sympathy was genuine. “I wish we could fix this. We have to believe there’s a way.”
I smiled weakly at her forced optimism. I knew she was trying to help. “I want to believe,” I began but stopped. I swallowed the lump in my throat and felt the boulder in my belly drop into infinity. I felt my face twist into some contorted gargoyle version of myself. I doubled over, clutching my stomach.
Shea was beside me on the bed before I noticed her move. She wrapped her arms tightly around me and pulled my head to her heart. “I know, I know,” Shea soothed. She held me fiercely to match my tense frame. Her chest heaved as she took a deep breath, willing me to imitate her. I joined her next deep breath and willed my body to relax. The tension eased as I melted into Shea’s embrace. We sat there a moment before I could pull myself together again. We separated as I sat up.
“I’m sorry,” I began.
“Don’t you dare apologize again! We’re friends. I’m your friend. That’s what friends do. How many times have I bored you to tears gushing over Adam?” Even as she said his name, her cheeks flushed. They were beyond cute together.
“Yeah, it is a little sickening,” I teased lightly, but my heart wasn’t in it.
Shea tossed me a bone and chuckled ruefully. “Alice!”
But really, what else could she say?
“I know,” I said, “and thanks.” She hugged me then left the room to call her boyfriend.
Her boyfriend, Adam, was most likely her soulmate. Like Jack and Kulani had been, they were the type of couple that made you start to believe in true mates. Adam was tall, dark, and handsome. He had a megawatt smile and a lean, muscular build. He kept his thick black hair cropped short. His skin was richly dark, and his wolf had beautiful copper fur. Shea had spent the first few weeks of vacation moping that he wasn’t around. Granted, we’d been bereaved by the loss of one of our mentors, but I could tell not having Adam around to comfort her had hurt Shea a lot. I loved Adam, but I worried sometimes they were becoming a little co-dependent. They called each other every night, meanwhile I usually left the room or plugged in headphones. Still, I could tell by the sappy look on Shea’s face they’d likely spend half an hour saying, “You hang up.” “No, you first.” In my current dilemma, their perfect relationship made me want to gag.
Adam’s parents were twined, which was the werewolf version of married, but werewolves never divorce. There’s an instinctual bond that forms when two werewolves mate, and according to our health professor, it’s nonnegotiable and nonrefundable. The staff at Mt. Henley kept the boys and girls separated out of fear that a casual high school dalliance would turn into an unexpected shotgun wedding, pregnancy or no. Transgender kids could choose which dorm they felt most comfortable in, but even the LGBT couples in the werewolf community tended to mate for life. Reproduction seemed to have little to do with it. Monogamy was becoming a cause for concern among the dwindling werewolf population.
Adam said that what his parents had was more than that. There was rumor that true mates had a deeper bond than anyone could imagine. To me, it sounded like a fairytale version of true love, but Adam swore there was more to it than that. He told us once that his parents were so close, it was like they could read each other’s minds. I’d started at that, thinking of my own hidden alpha talent. Shea had shaken her head, silently cautioning me not to mention to Adam my alpha telepathy. He’d also said that his parents were more focused on each other than their children.
“Don’t get me wrong, they’re great parents,” he’d qualified, “but when they’re apart and all the sudden one of them enters the room, it’s like they’re drawn to each other, no matter what’s going on around them at the time. They look into each other’s eyes the moment they’re near each other. They get really still and just zone out for a bit. We usually have to holler ‘Mom! Dad!’ a few times before they look at any of us. It’s weird,” he finished with a shrug. Adam and Shea had laughed at the time, but I’d felt a shiver run up my back as I thought about how Shea always seemed to look up just before Adam entered a room. The two were often in a world of their own together.
Suddenly, I felt jealous of Adam as I remembered that I wouldn’t have Shea’s undivided attention once school resumed. It was selfish of me, and of course I was glad Shea was happy. She was looking forward to going back to Mt. Henley, but I was worried. I didn’t worry about losing Shea, so much as Shea losing herself. Maybe that was a little unfair. I liked Adam. He cared for her and encouraged her to come home with me this summer. He wanted what was best for her. Maybe that was love? Shea came back in my room and I tried to come up with something other than boys to talk about.
“What if me going back puts everyone in danger?” I worried aloud for the hundredth time.
Shea rolled her eyes, “We’ve been over this a hundred times, Alice.”
“Yeah, but—” I interrupted.
“No yeah, but,” she admonished. “You know you have to go back. The pack needs you. You need to train, and you’re next-in-line to be queen. It’s the duty of the Great Pack to protect you.”
“It’s my duty to protect them.”
“From the upyr and the Queen Regent.” We knew our parts by heart.
“But what if—”
“No more buts, Alice.” Shea had a new weapon. “Remember what Gwendolyn said. Staying here may only put your family in more danger. The upyr could follow you here, or an assassin.”
“The Queen would be hard-pressed to find a willing assassin among the pack,” I scoffed.
“But that’s all the more reason why she’d likely use the upyr. She’s the most dangerous kind of leader there is, one that will sacrifice her own people for personal gain.”
I sighed. “You’re right. I can’t run away from this. Or Logan,” I groaned.
“One step at a time. Get the crown, then we’ll worry about ditching the dud.”
◆◆◆
The next week, I threw myself into training with Shea. We
practiced all our martial arts skills in the ravine behind my parents’ house. We also attempted to emulate some of the figure drawings in the weird old leather book Gwendolyn had given us. We took turns being the upyr and had fun attacking each other. We were looking forward to resuming more formal training at Mt. Henley. Shea had been able to shift six nights at the palace, which was a big accomplishment. I promised her I’d put in a good word with Jack about her joining the junior patrols that Diego had mentioned would be part of our fall training options.
We made one last visit to Gwendolyn’s shop before heading back to school. She regretted not having any more information for us. “I do think I’ve successfully brewed two more of the potions from the notes I copied. I still don’t know what they do.” She planned to keep them locked up and promised to send word if she learned more at her coven gathering around Halloween; Samhain, she called it.
Taking a chance, I decided to ask her to settle a debate Shea and I had been having all summer. Shea had growing concerns about Diego’s super wolf. At risk of adding fuel to her fire, I had to inquire, “Gwendolyn, is there any chance that Jack the Ripper could have been a werewolf?” I threw all the dubious tone I could muster into my voice, which earned me a jagged look from Shea.
Gwendolyn laughed. “Oh no, Alice, Jack the Ripper was an upyr.”
Shea gasped and I slapped my head. “An upyr? Of course!”
“Yes, of course, all those eviscerated bodies? He was careful not to completely exsanguinate them, to keep the authorities off his trail. Say what you will for modern technology, the Victorian age took its monsters seriously. Eventually, the local werewolves were able to hunt him down. Of course, humanity was none the wiser, but it must have taken a dozen wolves to tear him limb from limb.”
“Werewolves of London?” Shea teased. I was glad she wasn’t a sore loser, though of course it was a win-win that our friend’s super shift wasn’t related to an historical serial killer.
Gwendolyn smiled. “Funny you mention it; that’s actually the counter-argument for what happened to Jack.”
“Counter-argument?” I asked.
“Well, of course, a pack of werewolves is the most plausible explanation, but at the time, there were more sensational rumors. The Werewolf of London was said to be the monster that killed Jack the Ripper. Monsters killing monsters was a common Victorian theme. That’s where the ridiculous sketch of werewolves that Hollywood glommed onto so tightly originates, you know, an eight-foot-tall half-man, half-wolf hybrid? Forgive me if it offends you, Your Majesty, but it is a bit funny when you’ve met, or in your case, are an actual werewolf.”
Gwendolyn continued to laugh and didn’t notice that Shea and I were shocked by her story. I couldn’t ask her more without risking Diego’s secret, and it sounded like she didn’t know much more anyway. Clearly, she didn’t believe such a creature was real.
On the walk home, we guffawed at the news. “Wow, the Werewolf of London? Could it be true?” I asked.
“Gwendolyn obviously didn’t think so,” responded Shea.
“But we know different.”
“Yeah, we’ve see it.”
“Him, Shea. Diego’s my friend. And he saved your life,” I reminded her.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Gwendolyn was sure that Jack the Ripper was an upyr. If the Werewolf of London killed him, then he was a hero.” She paused then added, “And so is Diego. I got hung up on his, what do you call it? Super shift? I never really thanked him for saving me.”
“Well, you’ll get the chance soon enough.” I smiled in relief that Shea could bury the hatchet with Diego. I needed the two people I trusted to trust each other. And I did trust Diego. Maybe it was the time we spent on patrols or our shared secrets. Whatever the reason, I trusted him. And although I’d never admit it to Shea, I felt calmer knowing there was some precedent for Diego’s condition. Even if it was mostly myth and hearsay, heck, I was a werewolf talking to a witch. Stranger things have happened.
◆◆◆
The time came to return to school. I felt summer tease us not to go, tugging at my auburn locks with warm breezes inviting play. Still, we were excited to head back to Mt. Henley, where we could run free on the next full moon. Shea and I were packed and ready to go. My parents drove us all the way to the airport instead of just the bus stop in town. They seemed amiable and chatty on the way to Madison. I thought they were maybe glad to get their house back to themselves and didn’t worry about them missing me that school year. It made it easier to say goodbye than the previous year when my mom had cried and my dad had been stony silent. What a difference a year could make. It was a pleasant goodbye this time with lots of hugs all around. Shea was welcomed back for the holidays, though I had to remind my parents we had a winter ski trip planned that year. I was getting better at creative excuses for missing school breaks. I couldn’t tell them I had a council meeting and the annual Winter Ball to attend.
By the time our plane landed in Kamloops, I was genuinely excited to see Mt. Henley again. Jack was waiting to take us the rest of the way to school. When I saw him, I did a double take. I was surprised by his appearance after only a few months away from school. His sandy blond hair had more silver strands than red. He looked thinner, more haggard. His casual scruff was now a full-on beard. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, and his signature red flannel was tossed over the passenger seat of his black Jeep. He didn’t lean against the Jeep. He drooped, the vehicle holding up his frame.
The Jack I knew usually wore an easy smile and had a casual grace about him. He had a great sense of humor and a ready laugh. The imposter before us tried on a grin that slipped off his face before it could reach his eyes. Kulani’s death had changed him.
“Welcome home, Your Royal Highness. Good to see you Shea,” Jack called with another attempted smile. It withered quickly, his face returning to a grim glower. We greeted each other pleasantly as we wheeled our luggage to the curb. Jack, being a Winterstone himself, had always been extra kind to Shea. I could see the empathy etched on her face. Neither of us knew what to say.
Jack and Kulani had been so light and happy together, laughing easily and often. It was their bond that made me start to wonder if true mates could be real. They had honed my skills as a Sliver despite my age and lack of training. They helped me understand my alpha powers and kept my secret. They trained me to run patrols last year. This new Jack was weary, weathered, and worn. He was likely more cautious too. Headmaster Giovanni had curtailed my participation in patrols after the upyr attack at school last spring. Although I’d mixed feelings about using my privilege, I decided I wasn’t above using my royal rank to demand my way back on patrols. I had a duty to the pack.
Jack was grabbing my suitcase when I pounced. “Jack, you have to let me back on patrols this year. I can’t lose any more time training. And I’ve helped Shea over the summer too. She’s got six days under the moon now. She could trai, too.”
“Six days? That’s very impressive, Shea.” Jack did his best to ignore me as I jumped up and down exuberantly. Finally, Jack held up his arms in surrender, a grin quirking at the corner of his mouth. He lowered his hands to his hips and laughed good-naturedly. It was almost like his old laugh, and I was happy to elicit it. His bright gold eyes glowed with humor, though the cloud behind the orbs didn’t quite clear away. “Okay, settle down, Princess. I know you’re excited to get back to work after a summer of slacking off.”
“I did not slack off!” I replied indignantly as we climbed into the Jeep and headed down the highway.
“Yeah, she snuck out every chance she got,” tattled Shea. The smile fell off Jack’s face.
“Not true!” I protested. Not only did I not want to get in trouble, but I wanted to keep the light mood, even if only to lift Jack’s spirits for a moment.
Jack’s scowl deepened and his voice was stern. “Alice you’ll have to be more careful this year. We have a lot of guests and new patrols running with us. It will be hard to hide your scent if y
ou’re tearing all over at every phase of the moon.”
“She can turn on the dark moon too,” Shea blabbed.
“Shea!” I hissed. Jack swerved in surprise.
Regaining control of the vehicle and his composure, he said oh so casually, “Really?”
“Yeah, it happened, but don’t tell anyone.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jack could be trusted with a secret. I smiled as I realized my tally of trusted friends was larger than two. Soon I’d see Hayley and the gang; things were looking up.
“Anything else going on?” I asked. I wondered if Diego ever told Jack about his uber wolf, but I didn’t dare ask and risk blowing his cover.
“Well, no new attacks, but we’ve had a steady influx of foreign students and guest teachers. Dryden is full of tourists, which is unusual. The inn is full, and there is talk of building another. Many exchange students are already staying at the school, although some stayed in host families’ homes this summer.” Jack rattled off his mental to-do list, sounding much more focused and firm than the easy-going guide I remembered from last year. “We will be starting junior patrols to work on training werewolves, though obviously, those will only be on the three days of the full moon. There are a handful of seniors and a few exchange students who have four to seven days of the moons under their control. They’ll train a little harder. I’m expecting to have you lead one of those groups.”
“But what about running regular patrols?” I was happy to have the honor of leading a junior patrol, but junior patrol still felt like a major step down from patrols.
“Too risky, Princess, plus there are twice as many patrols this year. You need to give the rest of us something to do,” he teased.
“What about other training?” inquired Shea. We were both interested, but it was also easier to keep Jack talking about plans for the school. The new silent, brooding Jack was jarring to the senses. At least when he was talking about running drills and organizing patrols, he almost sounded like himself. My heart ached not only for the loss of Kulani, but for the loss of Jack’s former happy self as well. This new version of Jack was a shadow of himself: quiet, sullen, shrunken.