“You went to college with Nat, didn’t you?”
Aggie shook her head.
I leaned forward to save her. “She went to NYU. I was at the University of Pittsburgh at the time.”
Clad in pearls and a black dress that fit a bit too tightly, Aunt Vera swarmed her prey like a hungry barracuda. “How many siblings do you have? Any other brothers or sisters in the area?”
Good God, I guess if Aggie didn’t work out, why not hit up one of her single, affluent sisters? Thank goodness she didn’t have any.
Aggie choked a bit on her food. “I’m an only child.”
“How nice. Your parents must’ve spoiled you rotten.”
Aggie took a generous gulp of her wine. “Yes, they did.”
Then she turned to me. “Nat, did you know the praying mantis female eats the male after they mate?” She picked up her knife and cut into her meat with enough force to bend the fork. “She starts by biting off his head.”
Way to go deep with that football pass, Aggie.
My aunt took the hint and shifted away to butter her bread. From past experiences, I suspected Aggie had won a reprieve from her questioning—for the next twenty minutes anyway.
I tried to pay attention to Aggie’s small talk, but I
couldn’t help overhear two cousins around my age. They sat across the table from me, their voices chirping with gossip. “Did you hear that Thorn is back in town?”
The other sighed. “I didn’t expect him to come back. I’d drop my boyfriend in Boston for a few hours in a barn with him.”
My cousin Sofia laughed. “With Erica around, I wouldn’t try that.” She played with her fingernails. “I heard she put another woman in her place for gawking at Thorn not too long ago.”
The food in my mouth turned to wood. Even with my mother’s succulent turkey and gravy, I couldn’t stop the despair from hitting me. I glanced briefly at Aggie and saw her staring at me with concern. I didn’t want her pity.
I couldn’t escape Thorn’s presence. No matter where I went. During high school we hadn’t crossed paths that much, but we’d attended the same college and through a serendipitous set of events our relationship had blossomed.
Dwelling on the past only made me feel bitter. Spiteful to the point of hoping one of my little jerk cousins, who was stuck at the kiddie table, would spill milk or something on his handheld game console. That would serve the little twerp right!
My empty wine glass urged me to take another drink to dull the pain. After an evening like this one, I deserved another helping. With resolve, I filled the glass to the brim with merlot and toasted everyone who’d pissed me off today.
There were plenty who’d happily do it again tomorrow. So I silently thanked my parents, who bought the stuff in large quantities.
A
s
I sat cataloguing another set of flea market items on Monday, I realized I had survived having Aggie stay over at the house so far. At first, the woman had made things quite stressful, but I found that if I concentrated and told myself that
everything
could be cleaned, I didn’t need to have my fists clenched, ready to knock her into next week with my hairy paws.
The customers today went in and out, but I was distracted by the merchandise more than usual. I tried to remind myself that I didn’t need more holiday decorations. I was perfectly fine with what I had. I didn’t need the beautiful St. Nicholas ornament with Santa skating on shiny plastic ice with a mistletoe and—oh, look at his nose, it glowed like Rudolph’s!
I mentally slapped my hand and focused on the screen. These types of distractions had increased ever since Aggie had showed up. Usually, I worked in my own little world without the distractions of family, marauding werewolves on a takeover spree, or hot ex-boyfriends who came back out of the blue looking hotter than ever.
A ring from the customer-service desk outside the office drew my attention. Bill didn’t answer it—most of the time, he chose to ignore the damn thing. I had once thought he just couldn’t hear things sometimes—but
then I learned that goblin hearing was just as good as werewolves’.
But when I was in the middle of a task I hated to stop before completing it. The ringing continued as I finished printing the tag for a carnival-glass candy dish.
The incessant noise increased to the point of unnerving aggravation. I glanced through the office window to see Bill standing not more than ten feet away.
I bit my lower lip and tried to think of how many ways I could torment that goblin.
Maybe by hitting him where he’d feel it the most. His pocketbook.
I stormed out of the office and greeted the customer. It was one whom I didn’t expect to encounter: Rex’s youngest brother.
“What are you doing here, Melvin?” My voice lowered of its own accord. Even though Melvin was part of the pack and three years younger than me, he still outranked me.
His gaze darted to the door. A few strands of his ill-kept black hair fell into his face. His dark hair was his only point of resemblance with his brooding brother. “Rex would kill me if he knew I did this … but Thorn asked me to talk to you.”
After hearing Thorn’s name, I leaned on the counter and nodded.
“You need to be careful. You know that rogue wolf who made it into the pack last year?”
I nodded again. “Wendell?”
“Yeah, he’s in charge of watching the perimeter of our territory off Highway 3. He’s gone missing. Nothing but an empty house with busted-in windows.”
I didn’t understand why they let Wendell watch the northern boundary. He had a keen eye and all, but every once in a while he walked around town having a chit-chat
with himself. A chit-chat that at times bordered on a raging debate.
“Any traces of a struggle? Blood or a scent?”
He shrugged. “He didn’t give me a lot of details. He only said that we should be on the lookout for danger since our territory has been breached.” He kept his gaze attached to mine as if he wanted to convince me that he’d given me all the information. When his nostrils flared twice, I dug deeper.
“Anything else?”
He paused before he whispered, “His girlfriend’s missing too. Thorn and Rex found her blood in the forest. There’d been signs of a struggle.”
My stomach churned uncomfortably. He had a girlfriend? Maybe she was the one who’d driven him to talk to himself. Either way, our territory had been breached and now I lay exposed. I had no pack.
The door to the store opened and the breeze that flowed through the room chilled my arms.
“Thanks for telling me this, Melvin.”
Melvin stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt before he walked out of the store.
Customers continued to mill about around me, but I couldn’t move. Other than Aggie in my home, I didn’t have anyone else. What if the Long Island werewolves turned up, searching for others to kidnap? Would they do to me what they’d done to Wendell’s girlfriend? My heart raced and all I could do was clench the glass counter. I worried about things far too much, and today was only making things worse.
Finally, I willed my legs to move so I could help a customer. I had a decision to make. And if I didn’t make a move soon, I might be the next casualty.
As I drove toward the Grantham cabin that evening after work, hundreds of reasons popped into my head to
turn around. What if Aggie was trashing my house? Perhaps I had an important call on my answering machine. And those flowers she stomped on when she tried to break in—didn’t they need my care?
I resisted change with all my being. Hell, Aggie’s visit was painful enough, but to drive up to the Grantham home and approach the pack leader—this was too much. But I had to do it if I wanted to be safe.
Nestled within the forest and surrounded by tall pine trees, the Grantham cabin had an imposing presence. The setting sun cast a haunting glow on the windows and the dark wooden columns in the front. With the two second-floor windows as eyes, the two-story structure almost looked like a fire-breathing monster that waited for me to approach. No wonder it had been years since I’d visited this place. I pulled up to see Thorn’s younger brother, Will, mowing the lawn. The second-in-command in the pack, Will was a younger version of Thorn with buzz-cut hair. He’d recently graduated from high school and now attended the local community college.
Will addressed me as I left the car. “Hey, Nat. This is unexpected.”
I glanced once at his face before looking at the ground. “I came here to see your father on pack business.”
“Is everything okay? You seen any strangers roaming around?” He took a step forward and brought the scent of fresh grass to my nose. He didn’t smell like Thorn, but my nose knew they were related.
“Nothing suspicious. Thorn’s kept Bill updated so far.”
“My dad’s in the house. You’ll find him in the living room watching TV.”
I turned to leave, but then remembered Aggie. “So that I don’t cause any trouble, I need to tell you that Agatha McClure is staying at my house.”
Most werewolf packs tracked strangers in their territory. As the daughter of a high-ranking outsider, Aggie ruffled the feathers of the other females in the area.
“I already knew. Your father called the cabin yesterday and told us she’s at your place. Someone from the pack already stopped by to check on her at your cottage.”
As I walked to the house, I wondered why Aggie had never told me that someone had stopped by. Not that it was important. Folks avoided my place as if an obsessive-compulsive disorder was a cold you could catch.
I’d never seen the inside of the cabin before. As a child, I’d visited this courtyard with my parents on important occasions, but the invitations had ended when my illness had overwhelmed me.
I knocked and waited for permission to enter. My stomach soured, and I hoped Thorn was out patrolling the territory. This move was hard enough. I’d already wiped my wet palms on my skirt a few times in anticipation of what was to come. The rapid beat of my heart thundered in my chest. I could always save face and turn around.
With a reluctant heart, I prepared to head back to the car, but Will came up behind me and opened the door. “No need to knock. Dad never answers while his favorite show is on.”
I’d learned long ago that Farley Grantham didn’t act like other pack leaders. What made him different from others was that he was an asshole. A miserable old asshole.
I entered the foyer and peered into the great room. At the far end, Farley sat in a La-Z-Boy chair with his feet propped up. Two other men sat in corners guarding him. They were as still as stone until I approached. Their piercing yellow eyes followed me as the rifle shots and hoofbeats of a Western played on a big-screen television.
John Wayne droned on about justice as I stepped forward. Will shut the door behind me and I jumped.
Farley’s blue eyes went to slits while he examined me from the other side of the room. How had a man who had once stood tall over many turned into such a gaunt, bitter person? His blond hair darkened over his ears, where gray hairs grew. I could see faint traces of Thorn in him—the strong chin and broad shoulders—but I knew Thorn more closely resembled his mother, who had passed away when we were kids.
“What do you want, girl? Hurry up. My show is on.” He clicked a button on his remote. Silence suddenly permeated the space, which didn’t help my anxiety. Hearing John Wayne in the background would’ve been better.
The open window behind him offered a beautiful view of twilight in the woods. I tried to find strength in the forest.
I hurried to his side, trying to ignore the stacks of weathered newspapers and empty potato chip bags. The venerable patriarch lounged in the chair and continued to rest his knee injury. Two years ago, a rival pack leader had challenged the miserable coot to become alpha over the pack and nearly won. Farley’s knee injury hadn’t healed well, and after that old age and a vicious chest cold had caught up with him.
His eyes went from my face down to my toes. Fear crept up my spine. He glared at me like an adult chastising a child.
A cough shook his body before he sputtered, “I know your mouth works, so use it, girl.”
Even though I sensed a presence moving upstairs, I didn’t falter. My back stiffened and words flooded out. “I’ve come today to petition you for reentry into the pack.”
He huffed. “You picked the worst time. With the Long
Island werewolves breathing down my back, you think I’d allow a weak link on the front lines?”
“I could help. If you give me a chance.”
His dark blue eyes flashed yellow. “I’ve seen your place. And I’ve seen you around town. You would be a liability.”
His words bit into me and I cowered self-consciously. I had to make a choice. I could nod and move on, or I could make a final stand. “If you’ll have me, I want to reenter the pack, sir.”
“Didn’t you hear me the first time? The Long Island werewolves are a real threat. And the weak will fall first. Don’t you value your life?” He leaned forward in his chair and shook his fist in my direction. “I need the strong to stand by my side. They’ll aim for the weakest link first, and you’d be it.”
I tried to find the words. I’d already begged. “So the answer is no?”
“You’re lucky I tolerate your presence in the area. Your grandmother was a close friend of my father, and I honor their bond by allowing you to stay.” He resumed the film and dismissed me with a wave of his hand. “Be sure to close the door as you go. It jams once the weather gets a bit cold.”
For a second, in my fog of disappointment, I didn’t move. But then one of the werewolves in the corners shifted, so I scrambled back.
With a heavy heart, I left the house. I staggered into the car and sat. The sounds of a flock of blackbirds filtered inside and mimicked the pounding of an impending headache. My mind tried to wrap around starting the car, but I couldn’t move.
Why the hell did I do this to myself? Since the pack was under attack, I honestly thought I had a chance to help out. A new beginning. But after speaking with Farley Grantham, I felt two feet tall. Unworthy. Defective.
A bunch of self-defacing words that echoed through my skull.