Bonded to the Pack (Born to be Were) (29 page)

    
“Thank you,” she mouthed silently fearing Hunter would freak out if he heard
her talking to non-existent people.

    
Annabelle bobbed her head then floated away, disappearing into the night and
leaving them alone once again.      

    
A loud creaking noise sounded, sending chills down Hunter’s spine, but he kept
his eyes firmly sealed as Hope had requested, even though he wanted nothing
more than to run back home and forget the entire evening.  When she had come to
his house, climbed the tree outside, and knocked on his window he had thought
they were going on an adventure. Now, though, he wasn’t sure what she was up to
and that worried him.

    
“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” Hope told Hunter, grabbing his hand once
more and pulling him through the gate before he could protest.

   
Hunter opened his eyes and bit his lip to keep from crying out at the ghastly
sight before him. The bright bluish glow of the moon as it moved from behind
the clouds cast eerie shadows on the headstones and monuments Hope led him
past. Each one seemed taller and more imposing to Hunter than they had been
earlier in the day when they had buried his grandmother, and there was a
stillness about the place that only added to his growing sense of unease. “I
don’t like this!” he whined as she pulled him further into the cemetery. He was
not by nature easily spooked, but being there in the middle of the night, where
hundreds of dead bodies lay buried just under his feet, he was downright
terrified. 

He
looked to Hope, expecting to see the same fear mirrored in her eyes, but was
surprised to find her oddly at ease, almost smiling as she walked confidently
amongst the rows of ancient tombstones bearing the names of those who been
buried there since the town was founded in the early 1700s. 

    
“We are almost there,” she told him, unconcerned by the many spirits that
watched their movements curiously. It was unusual for humans to roam their
territory so late at night, so she did not begrudge them their fascination.  

    
“Where are we going?” Hunter asked nervously, nearly jumping out if his skin
when a large black cat jumped from a nearby tombstone to land at his feet, its
pitiful cries for attention shrill amongst the silence of the cemetery.

    
“Samson, knock that off!” Hope scolded, trying not laugh at Hunter, whose eyes
were popping from their sockets in an almost comical fashion.

    
The cat meowed, rubbed against Hunter’s leg, and then sat on its haunches at
Hope’s feet, its yellow eyes glowing in the dark as he stared up at them
boldly.

    
“Forgive him, he is not used to seeing those of us who are alive this time of
the night, he just got a little excited.” She patted the cat’s head and smiled
warmly when he rubbed against her palm and began to purr.

    
Hunter watched the exchange with goose bumps rising on his flesh, wondering how
she knew the cat’s name, and why she had said, “those of us who are alive?” 
Before he could analyze it any further, though, she began tugging him forward
again.

    
He followed dutifully, watching her closely. She seemed happy, almost at peace
as she led him through the maze of new and old gravesites, not seeming the
least bit scared. Not that it mattered: he was plenty afraid for them both, and
his trembling hands proved it.  “What are we doing here?” he asked anxiously,
scanning the area to be sure nothing else was going to jump out at him
unexpectedly.

    
The cry of a lone owl flying overhead made his heart beat faster, and suddenly
every terrifying horror movie he had ever secretly watched on his laptop while
his parents slept came to mind. He knew it was foolish, knew the dead could not
come to life, but it didn’t stop his imagination from working over-time.  “It’s
late, we should go home,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.  “Can’t this
wait until tomorrow, when it’s light out?” 

     
“Nope, we’re already here,” she told him, coming to a stop at a freshly covered
grave.

    
“Why are we here?” he asked woodenly, staring at his grandmother’s final
resting place warily.

    
“I have a surprise, but first you have to promise not to tell anyone what you
see here tonight.” She let go of his hand and walked around the grave, lighting
a small battery-operated lantern that she had placed there earlier in the
evening to illuminate the area. 

    
“I don’t know what you are up to, but I think we should go home right now!” he
cried out angrily. The pain of his grandmother’s passing was fresh, and he did
not appreciate her dragging him to her grave in the middle of the night to play
some sort of sick game.

    
“Just promise and this can all be over,” she said, barely able to contain her
excitement despite his clearly agitated state.

    
Wanting only to leave, he gave in so they could get it over with and get out of
there. “Fine, I promise. Now what is so important you drug me out here?”

    
“Look!” she said, turning the lantern she held to light the area just off to
the side of the freshly covered grave.

    
There in the shadows of a tall evergreen stood his grandmother. Her white hair
pulled into a bun, wearing the brightly flowered dress they had buried her in,
holding out her arms to him a with an awkward, lopsided smile. Immediately he
looked to Hope for an explanation, for any idea how such a thing could happen,
but she just smiled, seemingly unconcerned that his deceased grandmother was
alive and standing before them.

    
“Well, go on, she’s been waiting for you,” Hope said giving him a little push
toward the woman.

    
Hunter’s feet were leaden as he edged towards his grandmother, unable to
believe she was standing before him after he had spent the last week mourning
her loss. He wanted to believe it was true that somehow she had come back to
them, but the closer he got to the waiting figure, the more he noted things
that were terribly wrong.

    
Her once-vibrant eyes were now hollow and lifeless. Her skin, which was always
porcelain, was sallow and sickly in appearance, and her jaw hung slack as if
she had no control over it. He paused as the moonlight illuminated her clearly
for the first time, noting the red Southern dirt that streaked her clothing,
stained her hands, and matted her once-pristine white hair. Quickly, he
realized that whatever it was that stood before him was not the fun-loving,
outgoing grandmother he had known, but a real-life zombie raised from her
grave. As if sensing his hesitation, she moaned his name, clumsily reaching for
him.

    
Immediately, he took a step back and looked at Hope with fearful eyes.  “What
have you done!” he screamed, horrified by the situation before him.

    
“I brought her back, so you don’t have to miss her anymore,” she murmured,
realizing for the first time that bringing his grandmother back might not have
been such a brilliant idea.

    
“Brought her back?” he bellowed, staring at Hope in disbelief as she wrung her
hands, noting for the first time the large bandage that covered one of her
palms. He stared at the bandage, recalling a time when had she told him that
she could raise dead animals with just a drop of her blood. He had thought she
was joking with him, but now as he looked between her and his dead grandmother,
he realized she had been telling the truth.

    
“Did you raise my grandmother from her grave?” he asked despite the evidence
before him. She nodded and he fell to his knees, his body shaking as tears
filled his eyes. “How could you do this? Why would you even try?” 

    
Hope ran to his side, placing her arms around him, pleading with him to forgive
her, but he refused to look at her. What she had done was cruel and the pain he
felt seeing his grandmother in such a sad state was agonizing. Shoving her
away, he stood on shaky legs and turned to go.

    
“Hunter, please, I just wanted to make you happy!” she cried out, tears
streaming down her cheeks as she sat on the dew-dampened grass, regretting what
she had done.

    
He stopped walking and turned to look at her, hatred taking the place of the
love he had always felt for her. Then he looked over her shoulder to his
grandmother, who shuffled toward them. Her motions were awkward and slow as she
moaned his name repeatedly in a barely audible tone that freaked him out.
Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to hurt Hope the way he was hurting, and
before he could stop himself, he let loose the rage inside of him. “You are a
freak, Hope Lancaster. I will never forgive you for this, NEVER!” he screamed,
before turning and running off through the cemetery.  His earlier fears about
being amongst the gravestones were gone now that he had seen true horror.

    
Hope watched helplessly as her best friend ran away, hating both herself and
the curse that made her different from everyone else. With a rueful look to
Hunter’s grandmother, she vowed then and there to never again use her
necromancy. 
No matter what the reason.

Chapter One

      
As Hunter’s girlfriend, Kara, pulled into his driveway, to drop him off after
school, he was quick to note Hope’s jerk boyfriend kissing her goodbye in the
adjacent drive. The football king had his hands all over her, slobbering over
like a dog over a new bone, and it was all he could do not to get out and punch
him in the face but he held himself back. He had no right, Hope was not his to
protect, not since that horrible night almost seven years ago that had ended
their friendship.

The
fact was, he had pretty much ignored her at school, always making fun of her
and her popular friends just to be mean so she wouldn’t speak to him. At home,
things were a little more difficult because their parents had been friends
since long before the two of them had been born. He knew their parents always
secretly hoped they would become more than friends, and if he was being honest
he did have feelings for her, but he couldn’t allow himself to even consider
it. Not after seeing firsthand what she could do. Not knowing she possessed
such a disturbing power. 

    
“Earth to Hunter,” Kara said, noting his hands clenched at his sides as he
stared at the couple in the connecting driveway.

    
Hunter turned to look at his girlfriend, comparing her to Hope, as he did with
every girl he had ever dated. She was pretty in a dark, gothic kind of way:
medium height, pale white skin, with short black hair dyed pink at the tips,
and a body that was curvy in the places all teenage boys could appreciate. As
pretty as she was, though, it was her dark edginess, so much the opposite of
Hope’s bubbly personality, that had drawn him to her. For a short time he had
thought maybe she could make him forget Hope, and the stupid childhood crush he
still carried for her, but that hadn’t happened and he knew it was time to
break things off with her before she got hurt. 

   
“There’s a party at the lake tonight, do you want to go?” Kara asked hopefully.
As usual, though, he ignored her and turned to stare again at the perky
princess who lived next door to him. He denied he had any feelings for Hope,
but Kara was no fool.  She saw the way he looked at her with such longing, and
it made her want to puke. She didn’t blame him though; Hope was the problem,
she was the one Kara blamed for keeping Hunter from loving her as she
deserved.  Ms. Perfect had some hold on him that she couldn’t seem to break,
but she wasn’t giving up. Hunter was hers, and she wasn’t letting him go.

   
“I don’t really feel like partying tonight,” he said absently.

   
“Come on, it will be fun.”

   
“Yeah, alright,” he said, getting out of her car. He had no intention of going
to the party and would beg off by phone later to avoid a face-to-face
confrontation, which he knew could get ugly. The last thing he needed was for
Hope to hear Kara screaming about his obsession with her, especially while her
stupid jock boyfriend was present. It would only make an already tense
situation worse.

   
“You know, other guys want to be with me, Hunter!” she yelled after him
angrily.

   
“So why do you stay with me then?” he threw over his shoulder as he walked
away.

   
“You’re such a jerk!” she screamed, backing out of the driveway and revving her
engine loudly, before taking off down the usually quiet road with her tires
squealing.

 
   Hunter watched with a frown until he could no longer see her car, and then
turned to go into his house, almost knocking Hope down in the process. He
reached out, his arms encircling her, pulling her against him to keep her from
falling. She looked up at him with her big blue eyes and his breath caught in
his throat. She was beautiful, and he had no doubt that if it had not been for
their past he would have acted on the feelings he had for her. So many times he
had dreamed of kissing her, and now that he held her in his arms, he found
himself in a quandary.  To kiss her would be foolhardy.  He could never be with
her, the things she could do terrified him but despite knowing that, a part of
him still harbored feelings for her.