Walking Wolf Road (Wolf Road Chronicles Book 1) (19 page)

He launched into a passionate explanation, as though it was a debate and he was trying to convince me of his point of view. I’m sure, to him, it was. He didn’t know that I was just nodding along politely and feigning ignorance as he told me things I already knew. Inside, I felt a little worm of worry squirm in my gut. He actually knew a lot about us, at least our history, but that could be gathered from any number of books and websites out there, including the old paperback in his hand. What really concerned me though, wasn’t the past, but the
now
.

Worry morphed into indecision. Was it good that he knew so much, or did it make him dangerous? Was he in the ‘Ravening Satanic Beast’ camp, or the ‘Gifted/Cursed and misunderstood’? Should I correct him, or would I be empowering a threat? Tentatively, I threw out a lure, and hoped he didn’t see through it.

“So, what about now, do you think they’re still around today?”

“Well, yes and no…” he ruffled his short brown hair as he thought, “I don’t think they exist like they used to; too many were killed during the Inquisition, so the survivors had to go underground and protect themselves with secrecy.”
Interesting idea, unlikely, but interesting,
“Still, once in a while someone spots something; like the Beast of Bray road in Wisconsin, and who’s to say that the occasional Bigfoot sighting might not be something else entirely.”

“Wow, okay… But, why do they interest you so much?”

“Well…” he leaned back as he held his ankles to balance, and started off into space. “When I was a little kid, I used to dream that I was a wolf—that I could turn into one, I mean.”

“Just a normal wolf? Not a big powerful wolf-man?”

“Yeah, just a plain, ordinary wolf. When I woke up, I felt sad that I couldn’t be…
free
like that. Flying through the woods, chasing down deer and elk with a pack beside me.” He chuckled, still lost in space, “The
ultimate
team sport!”

I tried to keep the surprise off my face as I filed that away for pondering. “I guess the real question is whether they’re evil like the legends claim.”

“I don’t know… It seems hard to believe that anything that could change forms like that wouldn’t be evil.” I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

“Why is that? Wolves aren’t inherently evil or cruel; so why would anyone who could become one be any different? Just watch the news. People are perfectly capable of unspeakable evil without any outside help. At least wolves don’t commit genocide, become serial killers, or sell each other into slavery. Those evils are human-only; but if someone was loving, compassionate, cared for and provided for their family; wouldn’t you say that was a good person?”

“Sure.” He shrugged.

“Well, those are all traits that wolves share. To me, it makes more sense that if humans could become animals, that they would be no more evil in that form than as a human. No matter what your body’s like, it still your soul inside it.”

“You seem to know a lot for a casual hobbyist too…” He sat back on his hands and looked at me with narrowed eyes.
Shit, did I overplay my hand?
“Perhaps more than you’re telling me?”

I laughed right in his face. “I’m just voicing my opinion, that’s all. You said yours, and I said mine. Anyway, we’ve distracted ourselves long enough. If we really slam this thing out, I think we could totally dominate the other groups.” I appealed to his competitive instinct to help change the subject.

We laid out ideas for our presentation; and I guarded carefully against accidentally manifesting. It was more challenging than I thought it would be too; the more I tried to keep my wolf hidden, the more restless he became. I’d become complacent from being around my own Pack all the time.

While we worked, my brain ran a sideline query; what was it with those dreams…? Was I reading too much into it, or was there something significant there? And why was he so damn curious about us? Could he be trusted, or was he dangerous?

I hadn’t realized he’d said something at first. “Huh?”

“I said; I’ve got a really cool idea for the presentation.” He grinned.

Nobody knew quite what to expect when Bo walked into class in a toga, and it all went downhill from there.

Mrs. Coulter called our group up, and I walked to the front of the classroom with a cardboard box and laid out our notes, while Bo walked around the classroom handing people little pieces of chicken on toothpicks—since even people taste like chicken—then he walked up to the front and offered me a piece.

I pretended to get angry and started yelling at him, “How dare you! That’s Jerry!” I pointed at my classmates, “You’re all eating Jerry! I, the great and powerful Zeus shall punish you Lycaon!” No one had any idea what was going on as I pulled out an old latex werewolf mask and stuffed it on Bo’s head. Then I turned and wrote “The Legend of King Lycaon” on the whiteboard behind us.

It was melodramatic and campy,
but everyone loved it.

Bo wore the mask through the entire presentation. We took turns holding up visuals and explaining how the legend was believed to have been one of the first recorded werewolf myths. We returned to our seats while the class applauded and I caught a look from Loki.

I just smiled. I knew what she was thinking, but why would I risk insisting on wearing the mask when what was inside me ran
far
deeper than any costume?

Time blurred and everyone around me zoned out in anticipation of Winter Break, but I barely noticed when paper snowflakes and cardboard snowmen appeared on the walls over the lockers. I stayed late almost every day to get in that extra chunk of time in the library or the art room that might make or break graduation, and I pestered my teachers for extra credit.

On the second Friday of December, we congregated around Fen’s locker and he proposed a shopping run to Colorado Springs over the weekend. Geri heaved a sigh, as he was pretty much the default chauffer. Otherwise, everyone was excited to get out of town for a day, and I looked forward to maybe scoring a nice gift or two.

Fen arrived at my place early the next morning, and I prepped a thermos of coffee before Geri and Loki arrived to pick us up. It was still that weird pre-dawn darkness when one half of the sky was a weary shade of grey and it was cold as hell. We ran out when Geri pulled up to the curb and dove into the back seat.

“So, by some strange chance, would
any
of you like to pitch in some money for gas?” Geri asked, an edge of annoyance in his voice. “No? Yeah, I didn’t think so…”

Fen
shrank into his seat. “Sorry, you know I can’t.”  

“C’mon Geri, can’t you take another one for the team?” Loki teased in a saccharine voice.

“Sure, here, lemme just drive all y’all’s ungrateful butt-munching hides into that ditch over there…” He grumbled like a dog licking a long festering wound.

“Somebody’s feisty today!” Loki jabbed.

“Bite me…”

“Later…” she whispered with a voice that could’ve melted chocolate.

I wiggled my wallet out of my pocket and handed a twenty over Geri’s shoulder. “Will this cover?”

“Er—yeah.” I caught his surprised gaze in the rearview mirror for a moment, a strange expression on his face until he looked back down at the road, and Fen looked away from me.

The prairie just outside of town was dusted with a pale frosting of snow that slithered in tendrils and wisps at the winds’ beckoning. The horizon blushed in orange and violet until the sun broke over the teeth of the mountains and brought blinding agony to stab at the backs of my eyes. Geri turned off the main highway and the road took us between the high rock walls of a canyon. It brought relief—though sun spots continued to dance in my eyes—as we drove through its serpentine confines, and the skeletons of yucca and scraggly bushes gave way to pinions and scrub oak.

The winter sky was the clear porcelain blue of a husky’s eye as we drove into Colorado Springs. Geri negotiated the winter streets and weekend traffic, and then parked on a street that looked transplanted across time. Strings of white lights stretched between the leafless clutches of locus trees in front of renovated old-west storefronts that displayed everything from southwestern Indian art and pottery to custom t-shirts and art galleries.

I fed the meter for Geri, and then followed them as we systematically hit almost every shop along the street. Signs labeled the area ‘Old Colorado City’. Werewolf metabolism could not be denied for long though, and when we couldn’t ignore our gurgling stomachs any longer, we stopped at a cozy little restaurant called “The Mason Jar”.

They seated us near the fireplace and I stole the seat next to Loki. My arm brushed hers when I reached for my coffee, and she teased me about touching her so much, so I poked her in the side just to watch her squirm.

“Oh!” Loki shouted as she remembered something, "Have you figured out which colleges you’re going to apply to.” She leaned toward Fen, who shook his head as the waitress brought the plates out.

“Not yet, there’s a bunch of schools that offer my program, but I don’t know for sure which ones I’ll be able to afford,” he grumbled, “If any…”

“Don’t worry; financial aid will be a piece of cake with your grades.” Loki joked, and I took a bite of my chicken fried steak as the bitter twang of jealousy snapped inside me.

When at last the beasts in our guts had been appeased, we put our money together to pay the check and the waitress picked it up while we finished off the last remnants of our meals. Loki cracked a joke about Zeus descending to earth for chicken-fried steak, so I reached over and tickled her sides until she begged me to stop. I grinned and ignored the annoyed glares of our fellow patrons while I picked up my coffee to fini
sh it off, and caught Fen’s eye over the rim.

His gaze was intense and I reacted almost instantly with a deep blush as my heart pounded. I averted my eyes and my smile faltered for a moment, but when I glanced back at him; he was still staring at me with an enigmatic smile on his lips.

That smile taunted the nether-realms of my mind as we loaded back into the car and took off to our next destination. Old-west blocks melted away into houses-turned-shops. Geri parked in front of one and everyone got out. I followed them, and saw a huge black statue of a great dane that guarded an iced-over fountain by the front steps. It was intriguing and sorta creepy at the same time, and I almost tripped on the steps as I followed the Pack inside.

My nose was assaulted as soon as we walked in; oils and dust, the paper of books, and several different kinds of incense smoke. The air tinkled with chimes and fountains and a celtic version of “The Holly and the Ivy” played overhead. My eyes watered from trying not to sneeze; I wanted to whine and rub my muzzle against my paws, but settled for aggressively pinching my upper nose.

Loki flitted over to some display cases and pawed at their contents through the glass, while I stopped dead in my tracks; I was
sooo
out of my element. I’d walked into a pagan’s haven, a little corner of the world where witches didn’t have to worry so much about puritans and open flames.

I followed Fen down an almost hidden little staircase with colorful tapestries hanging from the walls. I looked at the pattern on one, and nailed my head on the low ceiling at the bottom of the stairs. I spilled out into a room where all manner of books lined the walls and rubbed the sore spot on my forehead while I ignored Fen’s chuckling.

Fen poured over the bookcases while I sifted through a clay dish filled with amethyst. I glanced back at him as he flipped through the pages of some book, excitement plain on his face. He turned it over and checked the back for a price, and I watched disappointment wash over him. Loki thundered down the stairs grinning—though I must admit I was a little disappointed she didn’t hit her head, I was apparently the only lucky winner today—and she quickly ensnared Fen with an enthusiastic “Oh my g
awd
, you have
got
to see this necklace they have!”

As she dragged him back up the steps, she winked at me like she knew what I was thinking. I quickly grabbed the book Fen had hastily shoved back into the bookcase and then startled the girl behind the checkout counter. I paid and stuffed the bag into the front of my pants and let my shirt fall over it moments before their Clydesdale feet clomped down the steps.