by Elle Lincoln
Wolves.
I’m freaking out.
I skid to a stop at the intersection to the main road. I don’t even remember hauling ass out of town, but here I am looking at Route 666, the ominous devil road.
“Ha! I bet no one knows it doesn’t lead to hell, it just leads to wolves!” I shake my fist at the road like this is all the road’s fault. “Who the hell names a Route 666? Freaking sadistic bastards.”
I slide my seat as far forward as it can go and shift to park. Nervously, I peek around, making sure there are no wolves, then I relock the doors, just in case, before finally reaching down to grab my purse. My hand shakes as I tear out the phone.
No signal. Fine. Normal, I need normal.
I turn left and head toward the post office. It’s just about nine, and I need the food anyway. As long as they are all human. A shiver skates up my spine, my eyes wide as I peer over the too high steering wheel, eyeing every car that passes.
“How many of you are human?” I tap the steering wheel with a nervous rhythm. A red car passes me, slowing down. “You must be a wolf.” I speed up as the car turns around to follow me. “Oh, no you don’t, I’m in the middle of a freaking breakdown. Go away.”
No guns. I have no freaking guns. Not that I’d even know what to do with them. Having a salt gun and a BB gun doesn’t mean I can shoot a real one. I take a deep breath, hoping that it somehow calms me. It doesn’t. My heart races faster in my chest, threatening another heart attack.
“I need to call the doctor.” Mind set, I barrel into the next town and swing into the post office. Turning the ignition, I listen to the engine as it ticks down then backfires. The squeak that comes out of my mouth sounds completely deranged and uncalled for, but shit, I’m on edge. A tap at my window pulls yet another scream from my mouth.
Black spots dance in my vision as my body threatens to drag me down into darkness. I take some deep breaths, getting my body under control because fainting in a truck on a warm day with the windows up and the door locked could kill me. I don’t want to die.
Settled, I turn to the brunette at the window. Her pretty face is full of worry lines as she stares at me. I pocket the keys and grab my purse before opening the door, which essentially pushes her out of my way. It’s unintentional, but right now, the only one I’m really thinking about is myself. I do not have time for anyone else right now.
I slide down the truck seat and slam the door, only to have it get caught in Liam’s jeans. Growling, I grab the offending cloth and toss it on the seat. I slam the door again, locking it before I gaze longingly at the post office with my food supply.
“Where’s Liam?” the brunette with the heart-shaped face and legs to nowhere asks—her eyes, however, stick to the jeans I just threw on the seat. I scrutinize her. She’s wearing skintight jeans and a fancy silk blouse. I glance down at myself, comparing my short stature, ripped jeans, and worn tank top to the woman before me. The messy bun on my own head is frayed while pieces stick out everywhere. Her overlong chestnut hair hangs in perfect, silky waves to her shoulders. She’s tall too, like a damn model.
I hate having height envy.
I shake out of it, eyeing her suspiciously. Wolf? “Do you grow fur?” I point an accusing finger at her.
“I’m sorry, what?” She takes a step back from me.
I purse my lips. So no fur? “What do you want?” I cant my head. Okay, it’s more like a mechanical jerk that does nothing to dispel my insanity.
“Where is Liam?” she repeats slowly, her eyes darting to the truck then back to me.
“Don’t know.” I tighten my lips, not at all in the mood for a she-wolf up in my business. I step around her, heading into the post office.
Her arm darts out, and she digs her red nails into my wrist. “I highly suggest you let go. I’m running on crazy fumes, and I have no time for bullshit today,” I warn her.
She must see the insanity in my eyes, because she reluctantly lets go before crossing her arms. However, it’s that slight step in front of me that has me steaming, preventing me from passing her. Really, I could just step around her. She’s holding me up, and I have running away to do.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, where is Liam and who are you? And why are you driving Liam’s truck?” Her eyes keep darting to the truck like he may somehow pop out and yell, “Surprise!” He won’t. He’s busy being a wolf. I think.
I hallucinated that, didn’t I? “Is there a clinic around here? I need a doctor.”
“What? Yeah, the local hospital is an hour away.” She leans away as though she can catch my foolishness. Contagious? I think not. It might just leak out of my aura, as Nessa would say. Who the hell knows? “Answer my question.”
“Yeah, no.” I dart away, running into the post office like I’m possessed. It’s empty, and I shout as I walk up, “Food delivery for Sabina Kowalski!”
“Ah, yeah, right here!” A lovely angel dressed up as a sane little old lady waddles out from the back, her specs perched on her pert nose. She wiggles said nose, pushing her glasses back up as she searches for my box.
Behind me, the door opens and closes, and in walks Legs. I don’t have time for that, Legs isn’t a priority right now. But I don’t even know what is, so I lean on the counter and drum my fingers.
“Ah, yes, just sign right here.”
Perfect, no need for an ID, got to love small towns. I sign and grab the oversized box that I can hardly wrap my arms around. Spinning, I run right into Legs. The box slams into her gut, and her breath whooshes out with a rancid scent. I step around her, debating on giving her the number to my dentist. Thinking better of it, I run outside as fast as my little legs can go and throw the box into the passenger seat—right on top of Liam’s jeans.
Diving in, I start the engine and peel out just as Legs comes running out of the post office. A petty part of me feels disappointment that Liam is taken, but considering he is literally a wolf, I’m not terribly heartbroken. Much. Maybe. Dammit, I wanted the guy.
Can’t think of it right now, though, as I barrel down the road, heading in the opposite direction with no destination in mind. Shit, I can’t even think straight. I chew my lip raw with indecision. My foot releases the gas, and I pull to the side of the road. I hook my phone up to the speakers and call my doctor’s office before pulling back out.
Slow and steady, don’t draw attention to yourself.
The prompt to press three for a triage nurse echoes in the cabin, and I push through to the doctor’s office to talk to a live person.
“Thank you for calling, can you hold please?”
“No, I cannot hold, I need to speak with Dr. Kemp immediately.”
“Ma’am, if you need emergency care, please hang up and call 911.”
“I just need to speak with Dr. Kemp. Can you tell me the symptoms of a heart attack? What does hallucinating feel like?” They won’t put me in a straitjacket. I went to high school with Dr. Kemp’s youngest sister. Surely she won’t think I’m too insane. Maybe. I’m completely unhinged. A little frantic laugh slips out of me and over the line.
I wonder if they have teal colored straitjackets.
“Ma’am, if you are having a heart attack, I suggest finding the nearest hospital.”
“I had the heart attack yesterday.”
Silence.
“So how about putting me through?” I drum my fingers on the steering wheel, my eyes catching movement in the forest. Adrenaline spikes through my system until a squirrel darts to the road then back into the thicket again. False alarm.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The crazy in my voice benefits me today. I wait as I travel down the road, the morning sun creeping up in the sky to filter down through the canopy of trees. I take the next right, an inkling of where I want to go pushing to the forefront of my mind.
“Sabina?” Dr. Kemp’s voice drifts through the line, and I hug it like the life raft it fucking is. Not really, though, becaus
e you can’t hug a voice.
I can’t hold back the sigh of relief, my adrenaline finally fading only to leave me wondering if calling my doctor, who is five hours away, will even begin to help me. In for a penny, in for a pound. May as well ask the questions I need to.
“Dr. Kemp, I’m sorry to trouble you.” I’m not, not really. “What is it like to hallucinate?” May as well work backwards.
“Well, it’s seeing things that no one else can see,” she intones, probably trying to debate if I need admittance into the looney bin. “Why don’t you walk me through what you saw.”
Do I? “I saw a wolf.”
“Did anyone else see this wolf?”
“Yes.” Liam saw the gray wolf first, then the second one. But then he turned into a wolf. I think. Shit, I need chocolate.
“Then it wasn’t a hallucination, sweetheart.”
“Yes, but what if the guy who was with me then turned into something else?”
Silence.
“Like what?”
I whisper conspiratorially, “What if... What if he turned into a wolf?”
Dead silence.
I twitch in my seat, feeling foolish.
“Just so we are clear here. You saw a man turn into a wolf?”
“Hallucination, right?”
“Sabina, where are you?”
I wrinkle my brow at my phone. She can’t possibly— “Allegheny National Forest.”
Her heavy sigh crackles the speakers before I hear a door shut in the background. “Sabina, what pack are you with?”
“No freaking way,” I whisper. “You are one of them?”
I hit a pothole way too hard, and the undercarriage makes a grinding scraping noise. I am not paying for that.
“Sabina, I’m not a wolf. I just want to know where you are.” She pauses as I stare at my phone as though it betrayed me. It didn’t, but my doctor on the other hand... They are all conspiring against me. “The nurse said you had a heart attack. Can you describe that to me?”
Okay, something I can concentrate on that is moderately normal. I launch into a tirade of how I felt yesterday.
“Did this happen before or after meeting the wolves?”
I pause, turning down yet another road that I know will lead to a trail at the back of Dad’s property. “I... I don’t know. Doctor, please tell me what’s happening. This is impossible. Men don’t turn into wolves. They just don’t. I’m young, I shouldn’t be having a heart attack. Do I need to go into the hospital? Do I need an ultrasound? A blood test? What do I do?”
“Breathe, Sabina. You’ve been through a lot in the last month. You need to find a quiet space so you can think, and then I suggest you speak to those you feel safe with. Please, please tell me the town you’re in?” Her voice holds a thread of worry, concern for me? For the wolves?
“Lunar Mile,” I admit.
Her sigh resounds through the cabin, and I glance at the phone again, wondering if this is a hallucination. It just might be. “Good. All right. Talk to Athos, he will explain everything.”
I scrunch up my face. I was with her up until that very moment. But I can’t take her advice, not right now. “Thanks, Dr. Kemp,” I say in a faux cheery tone, as I pull onto a deserted overgrown lane leading to a trail parking lot.
“Sabina, wait—”
I hang up and shift into park. My fingers drum on the steering wheel as my stomach grumbles. “If this is all a hallucination because of hunger, no food will ever be safe again.” I tear into the box, pulling out a tasty cake package—chocolate cupcakes. It’s time for sugar. And then more sugar. I shove the entire fake cupcake into my mouth, squinting into the forest and eyeing it suspiciously.
Any other time, I wouldn’t hesitate to hop out and hike the trail alone. I never once feared these woods, this trail. I always felt at home. But it now feels like the ocean and open water. You can jump off a boat into deep water, and far down below there may be sharks swimming. Only this is a dense forest, and here, instead of sharks, we have wolves—wolves that may or may not turn into men. That’s a lot to unpack right now.
I tear into the next cupcake with ferocity, causing crumbs to spill all over my shirt and jeans. Still, I don’t get out of the truck, in fact, I lock the doors.
A war brews inside me. Get out and search the woods for any hint of Dad’s killer, or hide in here from the man I saw turn into a wolf? I’m miles away from the house, yet I’m sure that doesn’t mean shit to a wolf. How fast can they run?
Time to ask the internet. I fire up the browser on my phone, glad for some service, and type in the question. Thirty-one to thirty-seven miles per hour. Okay. How fast can a human run? Twenty-eight miles per hour.
I scoff, calling bullshit. The internet lies. I throw the phone to the floorboard before going back to drumming my fingers.
Think, Bean. Think this shit through.
Another white wolf attacked the gray wolf. It doesn’t take a genius to deduce they probably aren’t friends. Liam turned into another wolf and attacked the other dingy colored wolf. Again, probably not friends. So what does that mean? Am I in the middle of some weird ass territory thing?
But most importantly, did Dad know? Is that what Liam alluded to when he said Dad knew? I have only questions and no answers. Answers lay back at the cabin where the man-wolves are.
I’m not ready for that yet.
But... I also don’t know if it’s safe out here. There is no way I can take on a wolf. Not at five feet, there isn’t enough of me. I make a mental note to pick up weights and start bulking up.
I flip the visor down and peek at my biceps in the mirror. I tilt my arm up, flexing the muscle and watching as it tries to contract—shit, it tries so damn hard, but I swear it’s like a cartoon where the bicep flips back around.
“I blame the cupcakes.” Weightlifting. Endurance. That can happen.
I flip the visor back up and scream. Shock freezes my body as I stare at the man in front of me. Haggard is the only word that comes to mind. His long hair hangs past his shoulders in greasy, wet waves. A long scar trails across his naked abdomen in three distinct lines. But it’s his eyes and the malice in them that has my hands hovering over the lock. My muscle ticks as I press the button over and over again, the snick reverberating through the truck.
The keys sit in my hand like deadweight, trembling as I lift them to the ignition and insert the metal pointy thing.
“Get out of the truck, Sabina.”
I shout, diving to the floorboard at the voice. My body slams into something rough and hard. The consul. Rolling, I gaze up at the owner of that voice.
Christian.
I watch him warily, and his mismatched eyes survey me carefully right back. His black hair sits in disarray on top of his head, and his sharp cheekbones suck in further as he watches me watch him. Every instinct I possess tells me this man is yet another predator, and he’s been hunting me.
“Open the door, Sabina. I need to see that you’re okay.” He taps on the window with one long finger.
He wants to see that I’m okay? “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I hiss. “You haven’t once been nice to me! How do I know you aren’t some crazy skinwalker in Christian’s meat suit trying to get me out of safety to... to… eat me?” Hysteria falls out of my mouth, and I can’t hold it in, so I don’t try to.
He looks heavenward before glancing at the man in front of the truck—unless he’s a hallucination. I scramble up to see, but instead of a man, an enormous tawny wolf sits there.
My heart skips a beat. “Holy unicorn farts.” I stare at Christian, giving him an ‘are you seeing this shit’ look?
He raps on the glass once more. “Let me in, Damsel.”
“Are you one of them?” I am not his little piggy.
He blows out a frustrated breath, steaming up the glass. How very wolf-like. “Fine.” He holds up a key chain and unlocks the door. I scramble for all I’m worth to grab the lock, but he’s too fast. He flings open the door, hi
s body poised to attack.
And naked. Oh so very, very naked. Lust slams into me, making my body clench, and a whimper escapes my lips. What is happening to me?
No! Danger. Back off, succubus!
“Relax.” His voice softens as he reaches behind the seat for something. I flinch away.
My body screams at me to hump him dry, but my head is throwing red flag after red flag.
He grabs a pair of sweats, throwing his legs into them all while staring at me. I’m not ashamed to say I keep on looking at his—
Well.
“Come on.” He grabs my hand, not giving me a choice over whether or not to take it, and pulls me to the edge of the seat. “We need to talk.”
“Are you one of them?” My body thumps with adrenaline, my heart pumping in my throat, my ears, until his answer is all I can focus on.
It means everything.
“If you mean lycan, then yes, Damsel, I am one of them.”
“Move.” I push him away, my stomach heaving from stress. Instead of listening, he grabs me and whips me out of the truck and to the tree line where I puke up my cupcake.
What a waste of a good confection.
Chapter 7
I spit on a bouquet of clovers, my throat burning with acidic bile. Feeling as though I won’t fall if I stand up, I do so slowly. I stare out over the thick forest, wondering what other lies roam through the trees. Hide in caves. Killer clowns? Why not just make this a party? Someone call the chupacabra.
“Here.” A slight clack sounds, and then a water bottle presses against my arm, cool and wet with condensation.
I snatch it up, preparing to chug it, but Christian snatches it out of my hand before I even have the chance. I growl at him, ready to wash away the sting and taste of bile. “Give it.”
“Don’t guzzle it, you’ve already puked once.” He hands it back to me, one dark brow raised in challenge, his fingers not ready to let go. “Don’t make me hold it for you.” The look he gives me says he will, and I’ll pay for it if he has to.