The Violet Hour (The Violet Hour Series) (17 page)

“Why do you have to hunt if you can eat regular food?” I asked cautiously.

“We can survive off regular food, but it doesn’t give us the right nutrition and it is unsatisfying.  I guess it would be no different than a wild animal.  They can dig through the garbage, but that’s just junk.  A part of you doesn’t just need to hunt, you want to hunt.  When I don’t, I feel like I’m starving and it’s all I can think about.  So, we try to hunt at least once a week.  I used to hunt every other day before you arrived,” he said with a smile.  “Something about you makes it easier to abstain.”

“Makes sense,” I said, though I couldn’t believe I was admitting to that.  “So, what do you hunt?”

“Deer, elk, turkey… really whatever we can find.  When I’m alone, I hunt smaller animals like rabbits.  When there are a couple of us, we try to make one larger kill to share,” he said, reminiscing.  “Contrary to folklore, we don’t steal people’s babies or kill their chickens.”

“What did my mom eat?” I asked, surprised by my own words.  I looked at Luke, who seemed alarmed I could so casually mentioned my mother. 

“She ate normal, I mean, normal food all the time from what I understand.  You eat like a wolf only when you’re a wolf and your mom hadn’t shifted in years.  Your mother was unique, I’ve never heard of anyone else being able to do that.”

I pondered his words while I shoved away memories of my mother.  I still didn’t want to picture her as a werewolf, so I closed that door in my mind.

“Do other packs live like you guys do?” I asked. 

Luke gave another strange, guarded look.

“Not all packs live by the same set of standards.  We choose to live in public with other humans and lead normal lives.  There are loners, however, that hardly ever show their face to a human being.  Werewolves can go months, even years without ever shifting into human form.  Rachel was like that.  Then, there are packs like us, who just live like a family.”

“So, you’re going to hunt then…?” I trailed off not knowing how to finish my question.

“Yes, and I’ll be back as soon as we finish tomorrow.  Hopefully, I’ll be back before you get home from school.”

I smiled and he leaned over to kiss me.  A noise from outside stopped our kiss.  I grew uneasy when Luke opened the window hastily and stepped onto the porch in one quick motion.  Cold air rushed into the room and I quickly followed him. 

Just as I stepped onto the porch, my eyes immediately caught black movement in the trees just before it disappeared.  I instantly turned to Luke for reassurance.  His eyes were dark and desolate as he watched the wolf retreat deeper into the forest. 

“Who was that?” I asked.

Luke said nothing.  I nudged at his shoulder and he snapped his head to look at me.

“Who was that?  That wolf?” I asked more forcefully.

“Oh, I think it was just Rachel,” he said as he refocused his stare.

“You
think
?”

“She took off quickly, but I’m sure it was probably her.  She was heading in the direction of her house.”

Cold air nibbled at my skin and a shiver danced across my entire body.  I wasn’t positive it was due to the cold.  Either way, I turned to dart back to the comfort of my room.   Luke followed from the balcony.

“Where are you going to dinner?” he asked as soon as he closed the window. 

“I have no idea.  He just said somewhere private so the two of us could talk.  Are you gonna tell me why you jumped outside when Rachel ran by?” I pressed.

“It’s nothing, Logan.  I promise you, if it’s something you need to know, you’ll know.”

The look on Luke’s face almost seemed worried, but I couldn’t be sure.  I’d begun to learn his expressions ranged from leaving me breathless and my heart aflutter to confused and empty.  This expression didn’t disappoint on the latter.  I didn’t want to have this fight again, but he was leaving me no choice.

I opened my mouth to demand clarification but was interrupted by my dad calling my name from the bottom of the stairs.

“Yeah?” I yelled back, annoyed.  Luke stood up and retreated toward the door.

“Meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes so we can leave?” my dad yelled.

“Okay,” I said, frustrated.  I could continue this with Luke later.

As I listened to my dad shuffle toward the kitchen, I realized this was the last time I’d see Luke for a full twenty-four hours.  I felt terrible I had nearly snapped and leapt toward him.

“I forgot to thank you for the snow gear and the roses,” I said, stalling for time.  “They’re gorgeous!”

“You’re welcome; I wanted you to have something to keep you warm while I was away.”

“Why do you have to go for so long?”

“Because, we’re very careful when we hunt to ensure we’re not the ones being hunted.”  Another chill skipped across my skin.

“Be careful,” I insisted.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be safe.”

“I already am worried,” I admitted, as he stepped toward me and took both my hands into his.

“I promise I’ll be here when you get home from school.  How’s that?”

“Better,” I grinned.  “We have a conversation to finish,” I pressed with a smile.

“I love you,” he whispered as he pulled me to him.  The way his voice slightly broke between his words warned me that maybe, deep down, he was worried there was a small chance he couldn’t keep that promise.  I immediately threw away the thought and convinced myself
he’d
be fine.

Andrea Wells – The Violet Hour

Chapter 18

“What is this?” I asked as I climbed inside my father’s car after he’d waited patiently for me to say goodbye to Luke in the driveway.  My father was usually simple and down-to-earth, but the car was stunning.

“It’s a 1999 Shelby Series 1,” my dad smiled.

“I’ve never seen one before,” I said, running my fingers down the leather.

“There were less than 250 of them made,” he, replied, wasting no time getting on the interstate.  “Did Luke show you the car collection?”

“No, you have a collection?”  Thankfully, the sun had finally broken through, quickly melting all the snow off the road.

“I guess I should have guessed, Luke is the humble one.  Jesse’s the show-off.  We each have a collection stored in the other barn.  Kate gave me this Shelby as a gift – a wedding gift I guess you could say.”

I was intrigued with the cars but I was more intrigued with the thought of my dad getting a
wedding
gift, particularly such a classic car from Kate who seemed content cooking and knitting.  I hadn’t known my father was remarried until well after the fact due to my mother’s biggest and probably only downfall: never talking about my father.

“Tell me about you getting married, Dad,” I said, faking a sweet tone to cover my mixed feelings.

“Well, I met Kate about a year after your mom left.  We spent a little time in London and then moved in with the Callahan’s at their Montana home.  A couple years later, Kate and I moved down here to build the ranch.  The wedding was more or less for show, I suppose.  We were settling and wanted to make sure it appeared that way to the people around us, but neither of us felt it was necessary.  We’d be together today even if we hadn’t wed.

“I asked Kate to marry me in the fall and we held a small ceremony outside, right on the property.  Jack, Luke, Jesse and their parents were down here helping us build the house and barns at the time.  People from Montana and Canada and half of Sheridan came.

“Werewolves too?” I interrupted.

“Yes, there were werewolves there.”

“Was Kate a werewolf then?” I asked.

“She was.  Kate’s been a werewolf for about three-hundred years.  She was cursed in England, though she doesn’t remember much about it.  Your memory can grow weak over hundreds of years.” 

I cringed slightly at the thought.

“Anyway, neither of us talked about giving each other gifts for our wedding, but we both bought each other a car.  You’ll have to ask Katherine to take you for a ride in hers sometime,” he finished.  I already knew what I was going to ask next.

“Mom never told me you got remarried.  You didn’t even invite me to the wedding.”

“Well…” he said, pausing the conversation long enough to put the car in park and escort me inside the quaint restaurant.  I had no idea where we were, but the world seemed to slip away when we stepped inside.  There were only a handful of people dining and each table was almost in its own separate room.  The hostess led us to the very back of the restaurant barely saying anything, as if she knew my father well. 

I felt a wave of emotions wash over me.  I had no idea what I was afraid of but, it was becoming instinctive to feel cautious and that scared me even more.

“When you came to visit years ago, Kate and I were in the process of purchasing the ranch.  I didn’t want to complicate things between you and I, so I asked Kate to stay with the Callahan’s while you were visiting and asked your mother to let me be the one to tell you.  When you decided you wanted to leave, I called your mother and she said to send you back.  I never got the chance to tell you and she kept her word to never bring it up.  I was waiting for the right moment, but it never came.”

I sighed at the memory of telling my father California was my home and I never wanted to come back to Wyoming again.

“Your mother and I spoke every day until the day she passed.  We had grown apart, but there were never hard feelings.  I loved her just the same as I did the moment I met her.” 

“How could you and mom talk every day if she never talked about you?” I pressed.

My dad looked at me blankly and just then the waitress opened the curtain, as if she were listening… waiting to enter.  He offered to order my meal, assuring me I’d love his choice.  As soon as the girl scurried out, I refocused on my father.  There was a roughness in his eyes that was both familiar and terrifying.  I apparently blew the secret that my mother never talked to me about my father.

“Thank you,” I said instead.  “It means a lot to know she still meant so much to you.”

Only minutes into our time together, he’d already revealed there was much about my parents I didn’t know.  My mood had lifted, but only slightly because I knew this wasn’t the only reason for our dinner. 

“So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked.

“Well, a few different things.  I wanted to spend time catching up, see if you had anything you wanted to ask me about,” he replied.

I thought for a moment.  There were so many things I could say. I had questions, but they’d slipped from my mind. 

“Well, I know the story and how it all happened, but I think I’m still trying to absorb it.  I still find it hard to believe, I guess.”

“I can certainly understand that.  I still find it hard to believe myself, sometimes.  To really think about the fact that I’ve been here – on earth – for over one-hundred years is bittersweet.  It’s something I’d like to share with the world, yet I can’t breathe a word of truth to a single soul.  Sometimes I feel like a fool for even bothering to live another day in this lie, but I’ve never questioned the reason why I continue to move on,” he confessed.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“It’s you, Logan.  Kate’s been there for me as I’ve been there for her, and I’ve always had the Callahan family to lean on.  However, at the end of the day – it’s always been because of you,” he said, taking a deep breath before continuing.  “You’re the only thing that’s really kept me alive since your mother left.  It was tough for years and the days seemed to never end, but I knew this time would come – when I’d get to sit here, and reconnect with my daughter.  To tell you the truth about me.  Knowing this day would come made it easier to survive.”

His words put the struggle into perspective for me.  The curse seemed to be just that – a curse, as well as a blessing for them all.  I thought of Luke, and felt fortunate to even know him.  The waitress returned with a bottle of red wine and water. 

“I may not have been in your life for the past decade, but you’ve been in mine,” he offered.

“Thank you.”

The waitress immediately returned with small salads.  I felt like I was home.  Home in California.

He carried the rest of our conversation.  When I did say something, I kept it simple, unemotional, trying to cope.  He mostly talked about life since we’d left, but didn’t speak of it from a werewolf point of view, neither of us mentioning my mother, keeping the conversation easy, manageable.

The waitress retrieved our empty dinner plates and when she walked out, a different waitress entered with a small decorated cake and plates.  I beamed at my dad.

“I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone,” he joked.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Happy
early
Birthday, Logan.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I smiled.

I blew out the single candle of the petite cake and he cut us both a piece. 

“You don’t have to eat the cake if you don’t want to, Dad.  I know it’s just junk food to you.”

“Who doesn’t enjoy a little junk food now and then?  I love cake!” he kidded between bites.

The waitress returned and handed my dad the check.  I was in no hurry to leave, but he handed the check and several hundred-dollar bills back to her before she walked away.  She asked if there was anything else, and he replied in a voice we knew meant ‘don’t come back’. 

I swallowed hard and a chill ran from the top of my neck to tips of my toes.  I was certain she was freighted by his sheer tone and she glanced at me in uncertainty before pulling the curtains shut.  I looked up to meet my father’s gaze and he took a deep breath.  I hadn’t done anything wrong, but felt dread, as if I was in trouble. 

“So, the real reason I brought you here tonight was to talk to you about something you need to know.  Something I wanted to tell you face-to-face,” he hesitated.

I was reminded of Luke’s statement, ‘needing to know’ and knew this was it.  I had no idea where the conversation was about to go, but I knew – for some reason – that I’d never be the same afterwards.  Knowing that, I couldn’t look my father in the eye anymore.

“So you understand everything Luke has told you about us so far?” he asked. 

I simply nodded.

“And so, you understand your mother was a werewolf?” he continued. 

I nodded again.

“Then, I’m just going to say this even though it’s going to hurt.  A lot.  Your mother was killed by werewolves.”

My heart fell to the floor.

I finally met his stare.  His face was controlled; body rigid, but his eyes gave him away.  Tears pooled in the corners of my own eyes and I tried not to blink, knowing that would force them to spill over the edge.

“Why?” I whispered, looking down again.  Tears fell to the floor.

He paused for an immeasurable amount of time.  I choked back the cake I could feel in my throat and looked up at him, ready for him to break the silence.

“Because they thought she was you,” he said flatly.

My chest felt like it had been hit by a ton of bricks.  I bit my lip and the tears spilled from my eyes as I stared at his expressionless face.  The look in his eyes told me he had a few more bricks to throw.  I wasn’t sure if I was crying because she was gone and now I knew the real reason why, or if I was crying in fear that it was supposed to be me instead.  He took his eyes off me and put his trembling hands over his face.

His voice faded in and out.  “They knew your birthday was soon, but didn’t know exactly when… they got hasty… she was the only one home… when they entered her bedroom she probably never heard them… it’s been years since she’d been a wolf… she couldn’t have felt a thing…” he managed before trailing off into silence.  When he looked up to meet my gaze, anger flooded his uninhabited eyes and his body grew impossibly stiffer. 

    I began to sob.  To think about her last moments wrecked my soul.   I remembered getting home the next morning from Brody’s house and avoiding her room, like I often did, because I knew she’d be mad at me for coming home six hours later than my usual curfew.  Looking back now, I couldn’t help but think, ‘if I would’ve come home on time, it would’ve been me instead of her.  It should’ve been me...’  The guilt overwhelmed me and I knew I’d never be able to forgive myself.  I would have traded her places if I could. 

“But why?” I pleaded.  “I didn’t know you were a werewolf then,” I stated, confused.  “I didn’t know your secret.”

My dad hadn’t moved an inch from his position on the other side of the table.  A part of me almost felt bad for him.  The last time he’d witnessed me this upset, he put me on a plane back to my mother. 

“Logan…” he paused for another immeasurable amount of time.  I knew he was about to throw his final brick, though I had no idea what could possibly be any worse.  “Logan, I’m telling you all of this because you have to know… you have to know why those werewolves really want you dead.”

My dad stared at me from across the table and the pain in my heart was burned away by flames of fear.  He didn’t say ‘
wanted
you dead’ he said, ‘
want
you dead.’ 

“Logan,” my dad spoke in a low and calm voice.  “Have you given much thought to your mother and me since you found out we’re werewolves?” he asked. 

“Of course I have…why?” I asked, not even sure what I was talking about.

“I mean, have you really thought about your mother… and me, your father, have you thought about us
both
being werewolves?” he asked keeping his tone as light as I feared he possibly could.

My answer, of course, changed in my mind the more I thought about what he was asking.  Sure I’d thought about them.  I’d thought about them being werewolves.  I’d thought about them living for what seemed like forever.  I’d thought about it all.  However, I hadn’t thought about them both together… living as werewolves.

“No,” I finally said, not wanting to take my thoughts to any deeper conclusions.

“Logan, I don’t know how else to tell you this.” He paused.  “In three days, your body is going to begin changing, growing stronger over the next year, your senses more powerful, until you turn eighteen.  Then,” he paused again, taking a deep breath, “You’re going to become a werewolf.”

For a moment, I felt like I was on a plane taking off.  My ears plugged up, then began popping while my breaths were low and quick as if the oxygen supply was diminishing.  I felt light-headed, but not like I was going to pass out.  It was as if my senses were paralyzing me, trapping me in my own skin.  All I could do was sit there and continue to watch my father’s lips move but unable to hear his words.  My thoughts echoing the words, “…you’re going to become a werewolf.”