Feral

Home > Other > Feral > Page 20
Feral Page 20

by Nicole Luiken


  “There is no video!” Chloe shouted. “No one who isn’t a werewolf saw Marcus Change—and he wouldn’t have Changed if he hadn’t been poisoned. There is no blackmailer! The witch just wants the money she’ll get from the logging deal.”

  Her Packmates’ faces showed anger and shame, but little surprise. Her aunt and Dean’s dad touched their throats, no doubt warned to silence by their constricting collars. Her heart quailed; Aunt Laurie had been her last hope.

  Olivia’s face held no regret, only impatience.

  That seemed wrong somehow, but Chloe didn’t have time to pursue it. She had to stop this right here, right now.

  “I Challenge you!” Her voice rang out, high and frantic. “I Challenge you for Alpha!” Even as the words came out, she knew it was madness. I’m not Alpha material.

  Anger pushed back her doubt. No matter how unfit Chloe was, she was still a better choice than anyone wearing a collar. Only Chloe was still free to do this.

  Olivia laughed—and that struck another chord of wrongness. Shouldn’t she be angry?

  “Oh, little puppy,” Olivia said. “Challenge not accepted. You are too young. You had your first Change only days ago and likely cannot even Change under your own control.”

  “Oh, yes, I can! And it doesn’t matter if I’m too young, because someone has to stop you!” Olivia had to know the video was a setup, but she was still going along with both banishing Marcus and the logging deal.

  “Then prove it.” Olivia raised her brows. “Change into a wolf. I will wait.”

  “Chloe, be careful,” Marcus whispered in her ear. “She smells smug and wrong. This is a trap.”

  Her scalp prickled, but she couldn’t back down now. “Fine,” she told Olivia. “I’ll Change and then we’ll fight for Alpha position.”

  Olivia crossed her arms. “Proof first, little puppy.”

  Angrily, Chloe stripped off her clothes, then closed her eyes and summoned the Change.

  Except it didn’t come.

  The wind picked up, raising gooseflesh, making her very aware that she stood there before the Pack half-naked. It brought back painful memories of her humiliation during the obstacle course.

  No, curse it. She’d broken through the barrier. She’d Changed just this afternoon for heaven’s sake!

  Was that it? Was she too tired? Chloe gritted her teeth and strained harder, gathering all her rage and determination and throwing them at the barrier. She tried to ignore the sick fear bubbling underneath.

  Nothing happened.

  Judy huffed in disgust. The small sound brought back all her other failures and made this one real.

  Devastation crashed over Chloe with the force of a tidal wave. How could this be happening to her again? What had she done wrong to deserve being punished like this? Her throat swelled, and tears burned in her eyes.

  Olivia sniffed. “It is as I said. Go home, little puppy.” She turned her back and walked into the house, leaving her foe vanquished behind her.

  The Pack all dispersed in silence. Kyle shot her a sympathetic look, but Dean and Brian avoided her gaze.

  Chloe’s mother handed Chloe her shirt. “Get dressed, darling. It was very brave of you to Challenge her.”

  The words were supportive, but her mother couldn’t meet her eyes, and her father’s expression almost drove her to her knees: it was one of shame.

  She’d shamed her family.

  Sobbing, Chloe broke and ran blindly into the woods.

  Marcus followed her, but he must have sensed she couldn’t bear words of commiseration right now because he ran at her side as wolf. He kept her company in silence and protected her.

  She ran and ran until her muscles burned and her lungs couldn’t draw in enough air, until she collapsed to the ground in sheer misery, first crying, then beating her fists against the hard-packed ground in rage.

  The wolf licked tears from her cheek. She threw an arm around his neck and bawled out all her anger and frustration and heartbreak into his soft fur.

  She might have stayed there all night, but the cold needled her bare skin—she’d run off in only her underwear. As she climbed to her feet, she suddenly remembered the one-hour deadline Olivia had given Marcus. “Crap. I forgot. You’re banished.”

  Marcus didn’t react, indifferent, but Chloe pushed herself to jog faster. “We have to go back to my house. We need clothes, food … money.” The challenge threatened to overwhelm her again.

  Marcus nudged her thigh with his nose.

  She rubbed his head affectionately, despite her sorrow. “Yes, I said we. If you’re banished, I’m coming with you.” She couldn’t stay here anymore. It was impossible.

  The SUV was parked in the driveway. Their clothes were folded on the porch. Chloe dressed quickly and hurried inside while Marcus was still Changing.

  She’d expected her parents to be waiting for her in the kitchen, but instead the house was eerily silent as if they’d gone to bed. At 8 p.m.?

  She grabbed her backpack, set it on the table and emptied it of schoolwork. Marcus joined her in the kitchen, still bare-chested. “Can you get out the granola bars?” she asked him. “And any unopened boxes of crackers?” Sealed food, that didn’t smell too enticing or need to be refrigerated, would be best.

  They worked together in silence for a few moments. Chloe rummaged in the junk drawer and found the barbecue lighter. What else? Tissues for kindling—

  Marcus interrupted her chain of thought. “Chloe, look.” He pointed to the hand-bound leather book sitting on the table instead of on its usual shelf. The Pack Lore. A number of pages were bookmarked. With $100 bills. They stuck halfway out, practically waving for her attention.

  Heart beating faster, she opened the handwritten journal to the bookmark closest to the end. On it were inked the phone numbers and addresses of the nearest other Packs and their Alphas. La Ronge, Quesnel, and even Churchill.

  Chloe huffed out a bitter laugh. “As if any of the other Packs will want a former feral and a Dud.”

  “You’re not a Dud!” Marcus said angrily. “Don’t call yourself that!”

  “I can’t Change. What else would you call it?” Maybe she was exaggerating—she had Changed successfully a few times—but there was clearly something defective about her if the ability could just vanish for no reason.

  Marcus growled, the sound shockingly hostile. He grabbed her shoulders. “You are not a Dud. You’re my Alpha. Is this why you’ve been crying?”

  She blinked. “Yes, of course.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He gave her a shake. “You can’t Change for the same reason I got sick. Poisoned food.”

  Chloe stopped crying, her mouth opening in shock. “What? That’s impossible.”

  “He’s right,” her mother said behind her. Her parents entered the kitchen. They both looked a decade older than usual, hunched and grey. Her mother’s eyelids were puffy from crying. “It was a small quantity of silver nitrate.”

  What was she saying? A gulf yawned between Chloe and her parents. Bile rose in her throat. “The only thing I had to eat was the supper you cooked … ”

  Her mother covered her face, obviously guilty.

  And still Chloe couldn’t believe it. “Mom?” she pleaded. “You—you didn’t, did you?” Her mom knew how hard she’d worked to Change. How much it had hurt her to be called a Dud. Betrayal stabbed Chloe, brutal as a knife to the chest. She stumbled back a step. “No.”

  Her mom wept helplessly.

  Her dad put his arm around his wife. “Your mother didn’t do it,” he said. “She refused after what happened to Marcus.”

  Which was an admission that her mother had poisoned Marcus.

  “Her collar choked her into unconsciousness four times.” Her dad’s voice broke. “I was worried about brain damage, and about what would happen to you if we disobeyed. I did it.”

  His shame hadn’t been for Chloe, but for himself.

  “You should have warned
me,” Chloe said harshly.

  “She ordered us not to speak of it. We planned to discourage you from attending the meeting, but then you said you were going to stay home.” Her dad sighed and rubbed a hand over his head. “We should have found some way to tell you. I’m so very sorry, Chloe.”

  Heartsore, Chloe backed away. Marcus stepped between her and her parents, lips drawn back, feral.

  “Are you going to go with Marcus?” her dad asked.

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “I think that’s best,” he said softly. “Safest. Pine Hollow Pack isn’t a good place to be right now.”

  “No,” Chloe agreed, her voice brittle. “Not as long as it’s under the witch’s control.”

  “Come on,” her dad said. “I’ll drive you to the bus depot. A bus leaves at 2 a.m. for parts south.”

  Chloe wasn’t certain where she wanted to go, if she was ready to leave, but she didn’t say so. Anything she told her parents could be tortured out of them.

  Her mother tucked the Pack Lore volume into her backpack and handed it to her. Somehow that solidified the coming break even more. It felt as if her mother was entrusting her with the Lore because the Pine Hollow Pack was doomed.

  Just then a vehicle crunched down the gravelled driveway.

  Her mother paled. “The deadline! It’s five minutes past.” She went to the window. “It’s Conrad’s truck. He’s alone, but he has a rifle.”

  Her dad swore. “That petty bastard. You kids hide. I can’t stand against the witch, but I can hold off a bully.”

  Hiding under a bed or in a closet would put them at a disadvantage. Chloe grabbed a kitchen chair and placed it in the hallway under the attic access.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Who’s there?” her dad called, stalling.

  Marcus stood on the chair and moved the hatch aside, then jumped up, caught the edge and pulled himself up into the air.

  “Let me in! I know you’re there!” Coach called.

  Chloe stood on the chair and passed the backpack to Marcus, then raised her hands. While Marcus hauled her up, her mother whisked the chair back to the kitchen.

  The unfinished attic was little more than a crawlspace. Chloe crouched on a rafter, careful not to trust her weight to the ceiling panels, while Marcus silently replaced the hatch. She picked out voices from down the hall.

  “Move aside, Curtis.” Coach sounded impatient.

  “What’s this about—oof!” Her father grunted.

  Chloe tensed, outrage flaring inside her. Had Coach punched her dad?

  “Where’s the feral?” Coach sounded closer now, in the kitchen. “You were instructed not to help him.”

  “As you can see, he’s not here,” her mother said.

  “No?” Coach sniffed. “Let’s make certain, shall we?” A number of noises followed. Footsteps in the hall. Doors being thrown open. The creak of heavy furniture being shoved across the hardwood floor.

  Chloe readied herself to jump down on Coach if he looked in the crawlspace.

  “Where’s your daughter?” Coach demanded.

  “I’m her father. I have a right to send her off to visit my relatives in Churchill,” her dad said carefully. “For her own safety.”

  “And the feral? Did you drive Marcus Jennings to the bus depot, too?”

  A pause then, “I didn’t notice any stowaways, but it was dark.”

  Coach swore. “You mean you didn’t notice on purpose.” The sound of flesh hitting flesh made Chloe flinch. “I won’t forget this, Curtis.” Coach stomped off.

  “Neither will I,” her father said softly.

  The door slammed, and a pickup roared off.

  “I’m fine, Rachel,” her dad said. “It’s just a bruised rib. I won’t even feel it by morning. Let’s go to bed, shall we?” He was speaking as much for her benefit as for her mother’s.

  Chloe stayed where she was. Best if her parents could deny seeing her after Coach left, if asked.

  Only after her parents’ bedroom door shut did she and Marcus creep out of their hiding spot.

  Wordlessly, Chloe and Marcus slipped out the door. She feared Coach might lie in wait on the route to town so they headed deeper into the Preserve.

  She didn’t look back.

  Worry gnawed at Marcus. As a wolf he couldn’t be sure, but it felt like it was taking too long for the drug to wear off. It had been full dark for hours, and Chloe kept shivering in her inadequate denim jacket. She needed fur, either her own or cuddled up to his. He nosed her thigh, trying to steer her toward a suitable den.

  “Not yet.” She patted the top of his head, her fingers lingering for a moment before she jammed them back in her pocket. In an effort to keep warm, she broke into a jog again, the beam of her flashlight bobbing with each stride.

  A scent reached his nose that lifted his hackles. It wasn’t the foul scent of the witch’s hut, but the earthy one of a predator. A big one. Marcus whined. When Chloe didn’t take the hint, he blocked the way, growling a warning.

  To his surprise she smiled. “You smell something, huh? I guess that means we’re close enough. It would be rude to arrive this late anyhow. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

  Marcus cocked an ear. She’d entered the predator’s territory deliberately? His Alpha wasn’t usually so foolish. They would need to be careful tomorrow, but now it was time to den.

  He scraped out a hollow under a willow tree and crawled inside.

  “One more try … ” Chloe put down her backpack, stripped off her clothes and stood shuddering in the cold for a moment before the Change suddenly gripped her in its painful vise.

  Afterward, he greeted the she-wolf with a nose touch. The two of them curled up under the tree, fur to fur, and slept away the first night of their exile.

  chapter

  22

  Chloe woke to the smell of woodsmoke. Good, they were close to the log cabin.

  She Changed, the cold air nipping at her bare skin, and all but dived into her clothes. She threw some sweats at Marcus. “You, too.”

  He chuffed, but obeyed, crawling out of their hollow a moment later to put on the jacket she’d packed for him.

  He tilted his head. “I thought we were going to another Pack.”

  “We are.” She’d come up with a plan the night before. While the Quesnel Pack was the nearest in terms of distance, its recent resettlement had already strained it to its limits. La Ronge, Saskatchewan where Scout was from or Churchill, Manitoba where she had some cousins were the better options.

  However, before she left Pine Hollow, maybe forever, she was determined to do what she could to thwart the witch.

  “We won’t stay here long. This is a … courtesy call.”

  “It’s a predator,” Marcus said flatly. “It already knows we’re here.”

  “Nonetheless, we need to be polite.” She tipped back her head and howled as best she could with a human throat. Marcus joined in. Together they walked up to the snug log cabin in the woods.

  The witch might think she had the logging deal sewn up, but the Preserve had another trustee, one Coach might not know about: Lady Sasquatch.

  Chloe knocked, and the door opened at her push. Inside, Lady Sasquatch bustled about the stove. Three plates were already set at the table.

  “Good morning,” Chloe said. Always be courteous to a creature that can break your spine with one blow.

  Lady Sasquatch grunted without looking up from the stove. “Werewolf children. Sit.”

  Lady Sasquatch stood over seven feet tall, and her chairs and table were commensurately higher, giving Chloe the weird sensation of having shrunken back to a child’s size overnight.

  Brown fur covered Lady Sasquatch from head to foot, and she didn’t bother with clothes, except for a belt to carry tools. From the back she resembled Chewbacca, but Chewie had more of a dog’s face. Sasquatches were more ape-like.

  Chloe and Marcus sat quietly while Lady Sasquatch finished making breakfast. Sasquatches
weren’t shy, exactly, but they hated chitchat and considered it rude to talk while food was on the table.

  Lady Sasquatch served them each two bannocks and sat down with a stack of four in front of herself. Chloe followed her host’s example, spreading jam on the flatbread before rolling it up and eating it with her fingers. Marcus sniffed each jar then spooned up a big glob of raspberry jam. To drink, they had tea with green herbs and dried flower petals floating in it. Chloe didn’t like the flavour, but bravely drank hers down. Lady Sasquatch didn’t have running water on tap, so it was important to boil water before drinking.

  By the time breakfast finally ended, Chloe was wild with impatience.

  Lady Sasquatch signalled her willingness to talk business by asking bluntly, “Why are you here?”

  Taking a deep breath, Chloe laid it all on the line. “The Pack is in trouble. A witch has put silver collars around all the adults’ necks and taken over.” As succinctly as possible, she told the tale of Olivia’s cancer and sudden cure, the crystal necklaces, Marcus’s memory of the crash and Coach’s ascendance to Alpha. She finished with Olivia’s announcement that the logging deal would be put through.

  Lady Sasquatch finally showed a reaction, baring two-inch long fangs in her mouth. Holy crap.

  “You’re a trustee,” Chloe said. “Can you block the vote?”

  But Lady Sasquatch shook her head. “On paper, I have the power. The vote must be unanimous. But in practice, they will call a public vote and record me as absent.”

  “What about a proxy vote?”

  “That can buy us some time. But their lawyer will find a way around it eventually. I will start proceedings, but unless the true problem is dealt with, I will ultimately fail.”

  Chloe’s hands clenched. She hadn’t realized just how much hope she’d placed in Lady Sasquatch until it crumbled. “So the Pack is doomed.”

  “Probably. I will nonetheless try.”

  The bannocks turned to lead in Chloe’s stomach.

  Lady Sasquatch stood.

  Chloe took that as a signal to leave and stood as well. “Thank you, Lady Sasquatch,” she said formally. “You are a true friend to the Pack.”

 

‹ Prev