,’ I thought, working my hardest to relay
the message over to his mind. ‘ Why can’t
the werewolf sense us? ’ I asked.
He looked at me for a second. ‘ I don’t know. Maybe he or she can but is just letting us eaves-drop .’
The thought sent chills through my spine. Then someone spoke
again. It was the same voice from before—and it struck me with
familiarity.
“So, you’re sure you want to complete this? We need to bound
you to her tonight. I’m tired of all this indecision,” she said. Her voice
sounded snappy, as if impatient. I searched my mind desperately to figure out
where I had heard that voice before. Was it a collective thing? Was I drawing
on the pack’s experience so that I could recognize a potential threat?
“Yes,” the wolf-voice, also distinctly feminine, said. I
suddenly had a flash in my mind, coming over from Trent. It was an image of
Lola. I shook my head, completely unconvinced.
‘ We should be able to
sense her, right? ’
‘ We should…but it
sounds just like her. ’
The steps above us moved towards the shack and further away
from us. I heard someone mumble something, someone new and, it seemed, male,
and a loud noise, like that of an old, creaky door swinging open.
The door slammed shut and the voices quieted. I could feel
that the werewolf presence had moved into the shack, so I naturally assumed all
the others had moved in with her.
‘ Let’s get out of here ,’
Trent looked at me and I nodded. ‘ I want
to talk to Mac and Nick about this .’
I would have normally expected Trent, who can be impetuous
and impulsive, to want to check things out, but for some reason his instinct to
inform the pack didn’t struck me as odd. It was like I could feel it too, this drive
to inform, to protect. I could feel the bond tightening inside of me, and if I
listened, if I became attuned to it, it was telling me what to do—to tell
the pack.
Trent took my hand and started walking up towards the parking
lot, but I pulled him back down for a second.
‘ Let’s pick up the
stuff. I don’t want there to be evidence we were here .’
He nodded, and we scurried down the small sand dune to pick
up the blanket and pizza box before sneaking out from under the dock and up
towards the old wooden staircase in the tall palmetto grass that led up to the
parking lot.
The moment we got back to the pick-up truck, the rain began
to pour down, and I could do little but sit and stare out the front of the
windshield, the streetlights blending into a wash of green, yellows, and reds
before me as the questions reeled through my mind. I looked over to Trent and
could see that for him, it was the same.
Chapter Five
The next few days was like a wash of emotion and anxiety. We
had only spent thirty minutes or so with Nick explaining what had happened. He
listened, but I couldn’t help but feel like it was little more than a bunch of
hemming and hawing. He had no more of an idea of what was going on than we did.
He did say, though, that I was under house arrest. I mean, those weren’t his
words exactly. He said something more to the effect of, “it would be best if
you left the house as little as possible. For your own safety.”
So even though Dan had called me and offered me the job, I
had to ask that we postpone my first shift for another week, having no idea if
I could actually work then or not by Nick’s vague standards. I was really lucky
that my barista skills were on point, or else I’d be shit out of luck.
Or rather, Trent would be shit out of luck. Because I was
doing all of this crap for him. And he wasn’t even around. In those three days I
hadn’t seen him for more than a collective twenty minutes. He wouldn’t tell me
exactly what they were up to, but I gathered that finding Lola was one of their
top priorities, because they feared we were under attack as a pack.
We . Crap. I couldn’t even think about them now
without acknowledging that I was a part of the pack.
I
the message over to his mind. ‘ Why can’t
the werewolf sense us? ’ I asked.
He looked at me for a second. ‘ I don’t know. Maybe he or she can but is just letting us eaves-drop .’
The thought sent chills through my spine. Then someone spoke
again. It was the same voice from before—and it struck me with
familiarity.
“So, you’re sure you want to complete this? We need to bound
you to her tonight. I’m tired of all this indecision,” she said. Her voice
sounded snappy, as if impatient. I searched my mind desperately to figure out
where I had heard that voice before. Was it a collective thing? Was I drawing
on the pack’s experience so that I could recognize a potential threat?
“Yes,” the wolf-voice, also distinctly feminine, said. I
suddenly had a flash in my mind, coming over from Trent. It was an image of
Lola. I shook my head, completely unconvinced.
‘ We should be able to
sense her, right? ’
‘ We should…but it
sounds just like her. ’
The steps above us moved towards the shack and further away
from us. I heard someone mumble something, someone new and, it seemed, male,
and a loud noise, like that of an old, creaky door swinging open.
The door slammed shut and the voices quieted. I could feel
that the werewolf presence had moved into the shack, so I naturally assumed all
the others had moved in with her.
‘ Let’s get out of here ,’
Trent looked at me and I nodded. ‘ I want
to talk to Mac and Nick about this .’
I would have normally expected Trent, who can be impetuous
and impulsive, to want to check things out, but for some reason his instinct to
inform the pack didn’t struck me as odd. It was like I could feel it too, this drive
to inform, to protect. I could feel the bond tightening inside of me, and if I
listened, if I became attuned to it, it was telling me what to do—to tell
the pack.
Trent took my hand and started walking up towards the parking
lot, but I pulled him back down for a second.
‘ Let’s pick up the
stuff. I don’t want there to be evidence we were here .’
He nodded, and we scurried down the small sand dune to pick
up the blanket and pizza box before sneaking out from under the dock and up
towards the old wooden staircase in the tall palmetto grass that led up to the
parking lot.
The moment we got back to the pick-up truck, the rain began
to pour down, and I could do little but sit and stare out the front of the
windshield, the streetlights blending into a wash of green, yellows, and reds
before me as the questions reeled through my mind. I looked over to Trent and
could see that for him, it was the same.
Chapter Five
The next few days was like a wash of emotion and anxiety. We
had only spent thirty minutes or so with Nick explaining what had happened. He
listened, but I couldn’t help but feel like it was little more than a bunch of
hemming and hawing. He had no more of an idea of what was going on than we did.
He did say, though, that I was under house arrest. I mean, those weren’t his
words exactly. He said something more to the effect of, “it would be best if
you left the house as little as possible. For your own safety.”
So even though Dan had called me and offered me the job, I
had to ask that we postpone my first shift for another week, having no idea if
I could actually work then or not by Nick’s vague standards. I was really lucky
that my barista skills were on point, or else I’d be shit out of luck.
Or rather, Trent would be shit out of luck. Because I was
doing all of this crap for him. And he wasn’t even around. In those three days I
hadn’t seen him for more than a collective twenty minutes. He wouldn’t tell me
exactly what they were up to, but I gathered that finding Lola was one of their
top priorities, because they feared we were under attack as a pack.
We . Crap. I couldn’t even think about them now
without acknowledging that I was a part of the pack.
I
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