Chapter Eight

Predictably, Helena was unable to find any peace that night. Still in profound shock by the terrible sight of the Bradford’s adversaries, she teleported from her home in the forest to Roman’s sanctuary and back again, pondering how she could assist Raul’s pack. However, despite her best efforts, she was unable to do so. Her first thought was to repeat the stunt she had pulled on Dominic’s pack. She had not killed those wolves, but she had managed to frighten them enough to abandon their plan to attack. All the same, she was not dealing with Raul’s kind. They were strong, but they all had charged at the same time. They had moved in unison; unison meant predictability. On the other hand, vampires were not close to one another, and that made them all the more unpredictable. They could attack from trees, from holes in the ground, or even from sneaking up from behind. The pack’s survival depended on each shifter’s awareness. Distracted ones could suffer tremendous blows before they could fight back, whereas more alert ones would most likely smell them, seconds beforehand.

Amid her confusion and the concern that had gripped her like a vice, Helena’s heart sank, as it occurred to her that, once more, the notion of a private life would have to remain just that: a notion. A reality that could bring her happiness, or just satisfaction, would have to be put on hold yet again. Duty called, and she was not going to ignore that call in order to pursue a few hours of fun. Even with Raul’s approval, she could not have a relationship with Cliff Daniels. Of course, it wouldn’t differ much from the occasional fling. It wouldn’t last long; the odds of them falling for one another were rather slim, but Helena liked the thought of dating him very much indeed. His looks were impeccable, and, by spending time with him, she would help heal a shattered man, brooding over the loss of his brother. For her, this was a combination very hard to resist. In the early hours of the next day, she said “goodbye” to the idea of going out with him, wishing that the two of them had met under different circumstances.

In spite of her decision, however, Helena felt the urge to warn him. A war was coming. Paxton would not be a safe place to be. Still, the witch had to reject that idea as well, much to her disappointment. Why? Because Cliff would definitely ask “why” he and his colleagues would have to leave town and that would put her in an impossible position. She would have to explain and reveal to him everything, including her own identity. More than that, she would have to confess the murder of her niece. Certainly, Helena would try to justify her deeds, as well as the deeds of the pack, hoping he would understand. However, even if he did, Cliff was still a man of the law. The witch would go to prison, and the government would turn her birthplace into the ghost town that Kate had described in her rant.

Nevertheless, Helena had another desire, one that was not as dangerous as warning him. She wanted to see him again, one last time. Sooner or later, the lack of any more evidence would force him to put this case on file, and leave Shandaken, never to return. Clueless about the day of his departure – and unaware if she would be alive in the very near future – Helena decided to pay him a visit at his workplace. However, the Sheriff’s station was in the middle of town. There would be witnesses to her teleportation. So, instead of imagining the wide road outside the station, she chose to picture the sidewalk outside of Monica’s former residence. Located just after the town border, it was guaranteed to be more private.

Helena was greeted by silence and a cold morning drizzle. She didn’t mind either. On the contrary, she loved the gentle rain, and the quietness was precisely what she was seeking. A glance up at Monica’s old house brought a big smile to her face, as she strode past it. It was the place where everything had started between the doctor and the disobedient pack member, who later became Alpha. She could still recall the sparkle in Monica’s eyes, whenever she narrated the story of their first kiss. Even though they went through some tough times later on, the Bradfords all admitted that this meeting was the turning point for them. This coupling set things in motion, bringing into their lives what they all had been missing. It gave Helena a good reason to walk out of the shadows she had been lurking in for years; a great opportunity to get out in the world, like she was doing now. Much to her liking, Shandaken was a small, yet cozy town, characterized by wooden houses, cabins, and mainly, warm people. Used to the shifters’ openness in Paxton, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

A few hundred yards down the street, she came across scenes that confirmed her belief. In spite of the rain, neighbors were talking to one another on the sidewalk, laughing and clearly in high spirits. Drivers honked at one another, smiling, as they headed in and out of town.

“I’m jealous of Sheriff Colby.” She thought to herself. “He’s got the best job in the world. It’s always quiet here. People know each other on a first name basis, and they get along so well.”

Helena continued on the downhill road, noticing a line of five cars. This was as close to a traffic jam as it would ever get in Shandaken. A shot of adrenaline rushed through her veins, as she saw the two FBI SUV’s, parked in front of the sheriff’s patrol car. Apparently, Cliff’s work at the crime scene was done.

Chattering sounds filled her ears, as she strolled into the station. Sheriff Colby and his deputies were all talking on the phone. Helena swept the sizeable hall for Cliff, feeling her pulse rise. He was in the upper left corner, speaking on the phone as well, in the only area that had been separated from the rest of the room with a glass façade. A wave of anger washed over her, as she started off towards his office. His imposing, well-shaped figure sent goose bumps over her skin, instantly reminding her how fantastic he looked, but it also brought the reason she had to stay away from him back into her mind: the threat that the pack was facing.

“Wait till I get my hands on you, you cold, miserable bastards. You will know my wrath.” She thought to herself, halting outside his door. Cliff was still in the middle of a phone call, but he waved her in, and then to the seat in front of his desk. Too busy trying to calm herself down, Helena would not listen to whatever he was saying. Cliff’s business was his, not hers. But, when he referred to the person on the other end of the line as “doctor”, and commended him on his thorough work, she had no choice but to focus on him. Sadly though, the phone call ended just after that.

“Ms. Lockhart, what a nice surprise.” Cliff said, his eyes glinting with excitement, as he offered his hand for a handshake. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Helena nodded, her voice coming out stiff, as she reached to shake his hand. The softness of his palm against her skin felt indescribably good; yet, it was not enough to appease her. She couldn’t wait to get more information.

“I was just about to call you,” he continued, the corners of his eyes tightening, as he seated himself in his executive chair. “The coroner emailed me the results of your niece’s autopsy. I’m sorry, Helena. Donna was murdered. She had a stab wound to her chest.”

“What?” she exclaimed, as her brows popped up in mock surprise. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Well, the coroner is,” Cliff declared, resting his elbows on his desk, as he leaned closer to her. “He didn’t find any carbon monoxide in her lungs, and she had suffered – quote – ‘massive blood loss.’”

“Do you have any suspects?” Helena asked, assuming a businesslike tone.

“Not yet,” he replied, his face contorting into a puzzled expression, as he gazed deep into her eyes. “Excuse me, but…” He faltered, pressing his lips together. “Do you really have red eyes? I didn’t notice in broad daylight. The other night, I was so drunk I thought I was seeing things. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

“I have suffered loss, too, agent Daniels. There’s no need to apologize,” she continued, as she remembered the tragic fate of her parents. “You weren’t seeing things. My eyes are red. They used to be brown, once. They picked up this color, on the night I lost my folks.”

“Is that even possible?” He squinted at her, his voice filled with suspicion.

“The doctors couldn’t explain it any other way,” Helena sighed, slowly shrugging her shoulders. “They used to work at a munitions factory in upstate New York. I was just nine years old at the time. That summer, they both put in long hours at work. I hardly saw them. One night, my brother and I decided to surprise them. He was ten years older than me. He borrowed his friend David’s car. I was so excited…” She heaved one more sigh, dropping her gaze from him, as she bit her lower lip. “Anyway, we pulled over into the parking lot. The company was housed in a glass building. I saw them; they were on the second floor. I tried to wave at them, but, the moment I raised my hand, this…” she paused. “Very bright, red flare shot across the building. The shockwave was so powerful that my brother and I were blasted thirty feet away. The authorities said an antitank weapon was accidentally fired.”

“I’m sorry,” Cliff murmured, lowering his tone, as he leaned back. “Your story is a little wild, but it’s nothing compared to all the rumors surrounding Sutton Valley and Paxton. You see, I’ve been doing a lot of research lately. I’ve found more than twenty books about these places, all of them describing strange things, like the existence of humans changing into wolves: witches; vampires. Those books are very old, they were published in the early 1900’s, but still, they’re quite fascinating.”

“Those are myths,” Helena grumbled, struggling to keep the surprise out of her voice, as her gaze shot up to meet his. “My parents’ death was real.”

“Then how do you explain the existence of those books?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest, as he intensified his stare.

“I don’t know how people lived in the 1900’s, but I’m more than certain that they had a lot of time on their hands,” she stated in an emphatic tone, narrowing her eyes up at him. “I guess some of them chose to get creative.”

“Some of them are way too detailed. Like this one, for example.” Cliff stated, abruptly taking his left arm off his desk. Reaching down, he opened the top drawer, and then tossed a thick book across his desk, maintaining eye contact with her. It featured a white cover, with a gray wolf, howling on the top of a lush hill. The black, faded letters read:

Henry P. Masters

Majestic – The union of wolf and man

Inspired by a true story

Unwilling to dignify his allegations, Helena chose to ignore the book. She wouldn’t even glance at it, feeling her frustration grow more and more by the second.

“Humans, changing into wolves, huh?” she smirked. “And they’ve been around for more than a hundred years, keeping their nature secret, without the federal government knowing a thing about them – nothing? Not even a clue? That must be the most ridiculous conspiracy theory I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh, crap,” Cliff sighed, shaking his head sideways in regret. “I hadn’t realized how stupid it sounded, right until the moment you said it. I’m sorry, Helena. I’m just trying to make some sense out of this.”

“Call me if you have any news about my niece’s case,” she urged, rising from her seat. “Have a good day.”

The witch didn’t really want to leave. She liked being around him, even though his curiosity was annoying her. Still, there was no point in being there anymore. She had no problem lying to him, over and over again. Mocking him about his theory was easy; but, Helena knew that lingering there could eventually work against her. Sooner or later, one of Cliff’s questions would put her in a difficult position. Within seconds, she was out of his office, deep down knowing that this was probably the last time she would lay eyes on him. The last time she would be tempted by him.