Chapter Twelve
Sonya
Three solid days of nothing but running and meditation and I’d had enough of taking things slow with my training. As Ty had stated days ago, I was beyond ready to “get down to the real thing.” The full moon was getting closer. Each day that passed I could feel it tugging at me more and more. Nature, as well, pulled at me like never before, making me want something I didn’t understand. This new desire frightened me almost as much as the idea of shifting into something I wasn’t sure I could control and possibly going mad in the process.
Not to mention my attraction to Ty pulling at me more each day. I was actually handling the moon better than the man. Flaws weren’t exactly something he had in spades, or at all, that I could tell. Everything about him made me want to drop my defenses—and my undies. But dropping my defenses is what had landed me in this mess and ruined my plans for a future as a doctor. Still, if I was going to die… No, I couldn’t think that way. I had to make it.
Standing on the back deck looking out over the lake not far from the back of the house, a restlessness came over me that had me literally jumping in my skin like an espresso junkie. Now that I thought about it, espresso sounded really good. Maybe that’s what I needed, to be around people for a bit. Having gone through over a week of the verða now, I wanted to see if being around people felt different. I needed to know that I wouldn’t hunger for their flesh. True, I hadn’t so far, but what if it was something that developed further into the transformation? I wanted to trust that Ty wouldn’t lie to me about something like that, but I hadn’t known him long enough.
So soft they barely made a sound, Ty’s footsteps brushed against the deck in a pattern that was becoming quite familiar. It was like my thoughts had conjured him out of thin air.
“This is the view I long for when I’m in Hemlock Hollow.”
For a split second I almost thought he was talking about me. But of course he couldn’t be. I turned to see him looking out over the lake with a wistful expression softening his freshly shaven face.
“You don’t live here all the time?”
Sighing heavily, he shook his head. “I wish I could, but duty calls me back there often during the summer, and sometimes on the weekends.”
“Duty?”
He rested his elbows on the steel deck rail, gaze never leaving the still blue water. “Varúlfur politics that require my input.”
I touched his arm and gave him a hard look through narrowed eyes. The almost magnetic feel of his skin beneath my palm stirred things in me I didn’t want stirred. His long lashes fluttered and he leaned into me, telling me he felt it too. “I need to hear more about the packs, but can we please go into town? I’m dying for a good espresso, and I’m restless,” I forced myself to say.
He gave a slight shrug that failed to look as casual as he tried to make it, then moved away from the railing, but not so far that it would take my hand from his arm. Until then I hadn’t realized I’d left it there. I pulled it back a little too quickly. Thankfully, he pretended not to notice. The disappointment and shame in his eyes ruined the attempt.
“Yes, I need to pick up some things from the store. That is a good idea.”
Was that a touch of humor in his voice? I tried not to grind my teeth as I walked alongside him back to the house. The aggravation stirring within didn’t cause my fangs to extend, or even make my jaws ache with the need. Much as I hated to admit it, the meditation was helping. While in the bathroom putting my hair up, I heard an engine start. After grabbing my wallet, keys, and tucking my mace into my pocket, I made my way to the front deck. At the bottom of the stairs, Ty waited next to a forest green Chevy Colorado. The vehicle shone in the sun as if recently washed and waxed, yet the scars of a few scratches and small dents proved it was also well used. For a man of his stature I had expected a Hummer, or at least a full-size truck.
“What, no big rig?” I asked as I descended the stairs.
Blue eyes sparkling, he grinned. “I have no need to compensate.”
Damn if those words didn’t burn a trail straight to my core and make me wonder exactly what lay behind the fly of those nicely fitted jeans of his. Feigning exasperation, I rolled my eyes and climbed in when he opened the passenger door for me. I became so caught up in ogling the pristine interior with its spaceship-looking console jammed full of electronics that I jumped when he opened his door. This truck was pretty much the polar opposite of my classic Jeep, so much so that it might as well be a Maserati. I couldn’t have felt more out of place as it was. Fumbling with the threadbare hem of my shorts, I stared at my filthy hiking shoes and realized I was going to have to rely on him a bit more than I wanted to.
“When we get back, do you mind if I use your washer and dryer? I’d be happy to do the cooking in exchange.”
The truck purred to life and eased out onto the gravel drive so smoothly it had me aching with envy. It wasn’t that I wanted a new vehicle. I didn’t. I liked my old classic. But I’d never had anything new. The dash felt like real leather. The smell wasn’t quite right, but it was close enough.
“Of course, but you do not have to work for it. You are my guest. Offering basic amenities is the very least I can do.”
My hand jerked back at the sound of his voice. “Is that what I am, a guest?”
“Of course.”
“So I can leave at any time?”
For a moment, his hand froze over the gear shifter, moving only when the engine revved so high it sounded like a growl. “You can, but I would not advise it. The verða is something you need to be guided through. And I hope you would not want to.” The last part was low and gentle, as if he knew he shouldn’t say it, but couldn’t help himself.
I chose to ignore the last part, because if I didn’t, I’d swoon. “But it’s more than that, isn’t it? It’s Raul’s pack, and that other one.”
One long moment stretched into another until I feared he wouldn’t answer. The truck glided down the road so quietly it was hard to tell we were on gravel. Trees zipped by, giving the occasional view of a cloudy sky.
“Yes,” he finally said.
The next question had to be forced past my constricting throat. “Am I part of his pack now?”
Ty’s eyes never left the road, but by the way he tensed, I could tell the question bothered him. “Not unless you want to be.”
Somehow I knew that if I said I didn’t, he’d relax, but something in me wanted to keep that information close to my chest for now. If he relaxed too much around me, then I’d relax around him and then things would progress to a place I couldn’t afford for them to go, and didn’t want them to. Or so I told myself. Lying to oneself is no easy thing. When I didn’t respond after a moment, he went on. “I did a bit of online research, cross referenced it with varúlfur records, and found that your dad descends from a Swedish pack.”
“That can’t mean my dad was a werewolf. We were close. I would have known.” It wasn’t just denial. He would have told me something like that.
“No, but I think he knew about the Swedish pack.”
He handed me his phone. On it was a picture of a man with a roaring wolf formed of knotwork covering his back. Above the wolf was a phrase in Norse runes: Seeker Wolves. I knew it from memory. At first I thought it was a picture of my dad’s back, but the man’s build was wrong. The tattoo, though, was dead on.
“That’s my dad’s tattoo,” I whispered.
“I know. I also found his admission photos. Sonya”—he looked at me from across the truck—“that is the crest of the Swedish pack from which your father’s family descended. That is where you get your varúlfur blood.”
The world swam. My stomach heaved. “I thought all the stories of werewolves and Vikings were only that, stories. But he knew. He loved those stories. He would have wanted to be a werewolf. Why wouldn’t he have gone to the pack and asked to be bitten in? It makes no sense,” I protested, unable to wrap my mind around it.
Ty gave me a long, meaningful look. “Because he loved you. The odds of surviving to become varúlfur are not good, remember? I do not think he wanted to leave you alone, or take the chance of you wanting to follow in his steps and try to become one too.”
Like I could forget. “He would have asked before I was born,” I argued, unable to accept it.
“I do not think he knew until after you were born. I spoke with the Alpha of the Seeker Wolves pack. He said a seer of theirs predicated your birth, and that they reached out to your father when you were born, offering your family the chance to join the pack if they would go to Sweden. When he declined, they offered him their mark—their tattoo—so all would know his family was protected by them.”
I dropped my head into my hands. “My mother wouldn’t have let us go so far from her family.”
That would have meant my dad denied himself the one thing in life he would have wanted more than anything. Well, almost anything it turns out. Tears stung my eyes and I couldn’t blink the damn things away.
“There is more,” Ty warned.
“I want to know. Tell me everything,” I demanded without hesitation.
“He went to prison for murder, right?”
I nodded.
“The man he killed was not a drug dealer like they said. He was a member of a Cherokee pack who tried to kidnap you. The Swedish pack found out and threatened the other pack.”
The world swayed. Gripping the dash in front of me didn’t help. Things were starting to click into place that I didn’t want to believe. I grasped onto the one thing I did want to believe. “My dad wasn’t a murderer.”
Ty’s hand came to rest on my leg. “No he was not. A no-touch creed was issued on your family after that. It is all in the varúlfur records.”
Half the reason I had wanted to become a doctor was to balance the scales—in my mind at least—for what my dad had done. “This is insane.” I might have yelled, I couldn’t tell.
All this time I had thought my dad had been involved in drugs. Now…
But Ty wasn’t done blowing my mind. “Your mother descended from the Cherokee pack, that might be why they targeted you.”
My mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that my mom had varúlfur blood in her too. The guilt of knowing it had been her own people that had tried to kidnap me, resulting in her husband going to prison, might have explained my mother’s descent into a haze of drugs after my dad’s death in prison. I’d never blamed her for her fall. She lost the love of her life. But I’d also lost my dad, and she always seemed to overlook that part. If this was true, it meant she had reason to blame me for everything. And I hadn’t spoken to her in years because I blamed her. What kind of person did that make me?
“Why would they want me?”
“That I do not know. The Alpha would not tell me, but he wants you to get in contact with him. His wolves lost track of you when you moved to Idaho and they have been worried about you,” Ty said.
Taking slow, measured breaths, I lay my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. I took a while to process it and fought back tears. Once I got the lump in my throat down, I told him, “Not until after the verða. I want to be at full strength before I have to deal with anyone else who expects something of me. You didn’t tell him where I was, did you?” I wanted to know, I needed to know, everything that Alpha had to say, but right now I needed to focus on getting myself through this.
He squeezed my leg. “Of course not.”
“Good. When I left Washington, I made sure I’d be hard to track so my mom couldn’t find me. I had just put her into a rehab facility, again. I was hoping that my leaving might actually be enough to make her think she’d really hit rock bottom this time. In psychology, I learned they have to believe that or else they’ll just keep falling off the wagon. At the time it had seemed like the only option,” I said, the last bit dropping to a whisper.
Without a word, Ty grabbed my hand and held it. His power flowed over me, cradling me. I relaxed into it for a mile or so before pulling my hand away. I owed my mom. Making it through this wasn’t just about me or the people I could help as a doctor anymore. It was about family.
“You still haven’t told me about the Hemlock Hollow packs.” They were an immediate threat that knew right where I was. Forewarned was forearmed.
His jaw tensed, making me wonder if he was struggling to keep his fangs retracted. An interesting reaction to a simple statement.
“Don’t keep me in the dark, Ty. I don’t like it,” I warned.
A long breath blew from him, and he sagged a bit. “That is not my intention.” He drew in an equally long breath before going on. “There are three packs in Hemlock Hollow: Reinhard, Draupnir, and Arnoddr. While they live in a relative sort of peace for the most part, they each have their own…politics, and there are politics between the three of them.”
The tension tightening his features told me varúlfur politics weren’t the same as normal world politics.
“Is that why you spend so much time in Missoula?”
“Partly.”
His following silence told me the conversation would end there if I didn’t push. So I pushed. “Did you ever belong to one of the packs?”
“Once, yes,” he practically growled in a low voice.
Tension filled the cab of the truck like fog, so thick I could taste its acidity on the back of my tongue. His hand withdrew from my leg. The absence of his heat made my heart sink. No, not my heart, exactly, more like the rush that waited in my chest. It wasn’t just attraction. This rush had hovered within ever since I woke up on the bathroom floor. I think it was my power. What did it mean that he made not only my body thrill, but my varúlfur power as well?
The pain that pinched his brows together made me want to stop there. But I couldn’t. If I made it through the verða, I would need to know things. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a touchy subject. Which one is Raul’s pack? What are they like?” I asked.
I knew throwing too many questions together tended to make him clam up, but we were starting to come across more houses than trees, which meant we were nearly to town. Time was running short, and once he stopped talking about this subject, it would be hard to get him going again.
“His is the Reinhard pack, and they are…driven.”
“Do they all belong to the AVW organization or whatever you call them? And is that just a huge group of speed-loving werewolves?”
He chuckled. “Someone watches too much TV. We do not use the term organization, just pack. The AVW is considered an umbrella type of pack, one that encompasses many with the cooperation of their Alphas. And no, not all of the Reinhard belong to the AVW, mostly those of Raul’s generation and newer. And yes, I guess you could say they are all speed demons.” He shrugged. “Most of our kind are. We love to run, and driving something fast is the next best thing.”
“Is the AVW the only umbrella pack?” I asked.
The look of approval he gave me made me feel like teacher’s pet. That thought took me to all kinds of dirty places.
“No. There is also the AVV, the American Viking Varúlfur, though they tend to be the older generations. I used to be one of them,” he said, voice growing quiet with the last sentence.
I wanted to know more, but I could tell by the distant look in his eyes that was all I would get on that subject. “The other pack that came after me, on the road. Which one are they?”
“Arnoddr.”
His short answers suggested a new direction was called for. “How do the packs work? Is there, like, an Alpha that everyone follows?”
To my surprise, he answered quickly. “Two, a male and a female, lead the pack together. Their family is considered konunglegur—royalty. The sons or daughters, whichever proves the best leader, usually rise to the position after their parents reach a venerable age and become elders.”
“Usually?”
Again his jaw clenched so hard that if he weren’t a varúlfur (I was finding that term was more comfortable than werewolf to me, maybe because it made it less fantastical), his teeth may have cracked. Through his parted lips I could see that both his top and bottom fangs had extended a bit.
“Sorry, you don’t have to—”
“No, you need to know what you are getting into. Struggles for dominance between the three packs are always ongoing, though it is usually kept to a minimum. Struggles for dominance within the packs are another matter. The elders consider that pack business and they do not get involved in it.” Voice drifting off, he swallowed hard and looked out the driver’s side window for a moment.
After almost a minute, I didn’t think he was going to go on, and at this point, I wasn’t going to push him. Finally, he did. “Raul is the Alpha’s son. His pack arranged a marriage for him to solidify an alliance with the Arnoddr pack, and if they are forced to recognize and accept you, then that alliance crumbles.”
The breath knocked right out of me as if I had been struck. It took a minute to recover. I shifted sideways, needing to see Ty better.
“Why would Raul want to ruin that alliance?” And arranged marriages? Seriously?
When he answered, I definitely saw the flash of extended fangs. “I honestly do not think the whelp cares. Ever since we were children he has only ever been concerned with what affects him directly.”
That led down an avenue of self-loathing I really didn’t want to travel right now. How could I have been attracted to a man like that, again?
“So, if you aren’t working for one of the packs, who sent you after me?” I asked.
His blank expression revealed nothing, but tension filled up the cab of the truck as if it were thicker than air. I hated that I was bringing up so many sore subjects for him, but these were things I had to know. His reactions had me worried about the packs for more than one reason.
“The elder Council. They are comprised of elders from all three packs and they sent me because they know I am neutral.”
The courage to ask more had almost built up when he pulled into the parking lot of a coffee shop. Damn. Before I could get my seatbelt unbuckled, he shut the truck off, got out, and was halfway around to my side. Like a gentleman of old, he opened the door for me and offered me his hand. My body screamed at me to take that hand, revel in the feel of his skin, his warmth. This damn attraction had to be a werewolf thing, part of the verða maybe.
Yes, a heightened sexual instinct. That made sense. Raising an eyebrow at the offering, I ducked under his hand and stepped from the truck in one easy leap. He shrugged and closed the door. Swallowing the desire to apologize, for what I had no idea, I strode around to the sidewalk at the front of the truck. The heat of his body tried to wrap around me as I passed by him. Resisting its pull almost took more resolve than I had. The devil was in the distraction. But hell, at this rate, resisting my attraction to him alone was threatening to drive me mad.
“If you would like to go ahead and order, grab a table, I have to run to the store across the way.” With a thrust of his head, he indicated a grocery store down a few buildings from the coffee shop. “I will meet you back here in a few minutes.”
“Sounds good.”
Nose in the air, drawing in a deep breath, he started to back away, eyes scanning the parking lot as he went. Was he worried about Raul showing up here? Seeing as he was being detained, I didn’t think that was possible. I was about to ask when he turned and started to stride away at a swift pace. Shrugging his weirdness off, I started for the coffee shop. My eyes only betrayed me once or twice, sneaking a peek at his fine backside as he walked away. Fine, maybe three times.
The bell hanging on the glass door jingled as I entered, a clear tone that rang above the swishing and banging of coffee drinks being made. Ten or so tables filled with college-age students chatting or typing took up the floor space, leaving a small aisle clear that led to the counter in the back. Three baristas worked with what was no doubt a caffeine-induced speed, hands a blur as they mixed up drinks for the four people standing at various points along the counter. The rich, wonderful aroma of fine coffee, flavored syrups, and milk made my mouth water in anticipation.
One step inside the door and the euphoria that began to settle over me tore away like duct tape being ripped from dry skin. Something—no someone—in this room set my nerves to screaming. Bumps rose all over my skin and chills spread out from my center. Every smell and sound amplified until I was drowning in a sea of sensations. Then one suddenly banished the others. The beating of a heart that I knew with a terrible certainty was a varúlfur, terrible because something about them wasn’t right. Drawn by both a need to help and a force I couldn’t fight, I walked toward their table.
Or, her table, rather. A young brunette with a bright stripe of purple in her hair who had to be under eighteen sat alone at a table, wide eyes staring out the window. The paper coffee cup in her hand shook so badly it was a wonder there wasn’t coffee all over the table. Next to her chair sat a beat-up backpack, one of its straps hooked through her right leg. Her clothes were rumpled and slightly dirty and she smelled as though she hadn’t bathed in at least a week. Compelled by a force I didn’t understand, I sat in a chair across the table from her.
“Mind if I sit here?” I asked. A bit late, yeah, but my mind was still trying to catch up with where my body was leading me.
One twitch and her gaze shot to me, her body going tense.
When she didn’t respond I leaned my elbows on the table and whispered, “Are you all right?”
She made a strangled sound and shook her head.
“Are you from Hemlock Hollow?”
Confusion clouded her eyes and again she shook her head. “Never heard of it,” she said so quietly it was scarcely more than a broken whisper.
Prickles of alarm began to work their way up my arms. Ty hadn’t mentioned any other varúlfur being in Missoula, or anywhere for that matter. It seemed he and I had a lot more to talk about. But right now I had more pressing matters to worry over, like why something about this young woman felt wrong.
“I know what you’re going through. I think my friend and I can help,” I said.
She made a sound between a snort and a laugh and fixed half-crazed eyes on me. “I seriously doubt that.”
“Trust me, I do and I can.”
“Really?” she growled, baring fangs at me.
Now her whole body shook, as if she were struggling to control something and was quickly losing.
For the first time, I willed my fangs to grow, and they did. Hiding my surprise, I smiled, exposing them to her. “Really.”
The girl pulled back so fast that her chair rocked back onto two legs. She teetered, arms flailing. Faster than I ever imagined I could move, one of my hands shot out and grabbed her right wrist. I steadied her, holding tight to that wrist and rising with her as she stood, making it look as though I supported her. A few eyes turned our way.
“Enough caffeine for you, time for some air,” I said aloud for the benefit of the onlookers.
Thankfully, she resisted only long enough to grab her backpack and toss it over her shoulder, before walking to the door with me. A breeze carrying the scents of blacktop and fast food hit me like a slap as we walked outside. How something I had once loved could now smell so foul, I had no idea.
“You’re one of them,” the girl whispered in a harsh tone.
Her darting wide eyes told me she would attempt to run the first chance she got.
“Them?” I asked.
She tried to pull her arm from my grasp but I held tight easily. “Like the son of a bitch that bit me, that turned me into…this.”
I walked her over to stand beside the bed of the truck, putting it between us and the windows of the coffee shop. “I’m nothing like that one, trust me. I was bitten and turned against my will too.”
Some of the fear leaked from her eyes, but the tightness around them betrayed her wariness. “You were?” Hope tinged her quiet voice.
I nodded. “They aren’t all like him. We aren’t all like him.”
The hope I had heard in her voice blossomed in her eyes, brightening them from brown to an almost golden hue. I let go of her arm. She immediately crossed her arms over her chest, but it did little to hide how much she shook.
Her eyes darted about, not as if she were looking for an escape route this time, but more like she was looking for witnesses. “We’re werewolves, aren’t we?”
“We are. You haven’t been through the—well, your first shift yet?” Though I was growing comfortable with the Icelandic terms, I figured she wouldn’t have a clue what they meant.
She shook her head. A breath eased from me. For some reason that felt important, as if part of me knew that would change matters considerably.
“My name is Sonya.”
Her shaking slowed and her shoulders relaxed a bit. “I’m Candice.”
“I’m glad we met, Candice. There are people that can help you through this. You aren’t alone.” Saying the words aloud made me face the fact that I wasn’t alone, either.
The idea both thrilled and terrified me. My entire life I’d been alone. It was easier that way, less people to worry about, to disappoint.
She snorted. “Hmm, well that would be new.”
Soft though they were, I heard the distinct rhythm of Ty’s footsteps coming across the parking lot. To keep her from growing alarmed, I turned and motioned in Ty’s direction with a thrust of my head. “Here comes my friend now.”
Looking at his tall, broad frame striding with a confidence few possessed, I realized it would be difficult to look at him and not become alarmed. The man had a presence about him, one that brought Norse gods to mind. Why the sight of him thrilled me instead of alarmed me, I wasn’t sure. Maybe I was well on my way to madness after all. Though he stopped at the tailgate and leaned against it with a casual air, the lines between his brows and around his eyes revealed his tension to me almost as much as the tang in his scent.
“Who do we have here?” he asked through a forced smile.
“This is Candice, and she needs our help. She’s like me,” I said, though from his demeanor I could tell he already knew she was a newly bitten. But the words were for her sake, not his.
Running a hand through his blond locks, Ty blew out a breath. “I am sorry this happened to you, Candice. Our kind are forbidden to do this to anyone who is not willing.”
The girl tightened her arms around herself and thrust her chin higher. “Yeah, that’s what she said, yet here we are.”
“Are you hungry? Shall we go grab something to eat and talk?” he suggested.
The casual shrug she gave couldn’t hide the way her eyes lit up.
Eager as she was, she refused to get into the cab of the truck with us. Despite only being about sixty-five degrees outside, she insisted on riding in the bed. Still on the edge of wanting to trust Ty myself, I couldn’t blame her. She didn’t know us, and from the looks of her she was a runaway who had been on her own for a while. Those types didn’t tend to trust anyone, something I knew all too much about. After going through a fast food drive thru, Ty took us to one of the half dozen or so parks that made Missoula feel more rural than city. It was easy to see why he chose this city to live near.
In somewhat of a state of awe, I listened as he told Candice most of what he had already told me, using a tone and manner that put the girl at ease. Once in a while she would lower her burger to ask a question, but for the most part she simply devoured the food he put before her and listened. Her ability to take it all in stride impressed me, and the fact that she ate two mega-size meals—double cheeseburgers and fries—made me feel a little less guilty about eating an entire one myself. After a bit of careful prodding, Ty and I determined the person who bit her wasn’t Raul, which only made me feel slightly less murderous toward the bastard. From the pinched look of confusion on Ty’s face when she gave her vague description of her attacker, he couldn’t place who it was. She had been attacked at night while walking back to her “pad” as she put it, which sadly turned out to be a place beneath a bridge. When she finished her second meal and began eyeing the fries I had left, I pushed them her way. The hesitant, almost ashamed smile she gave me brought up memories I quickly stifled.
For the first time since I had been bitten, I felt normal. No, better than normal. Helping her felt natural and right on a level that went deeper than even my desire to be a doctor. I couldn’t explain it. With a certainty that was a touch disturbing, I knew that I had been drawn to that coffee shop, to her. Could it be madness creeping in? Worry over it ate at me, but I didn’t let her or Ty see it.
An hour or so after we’d started chatting, a blue Xterra pulled into the parking space behind Ty’s truck. Set back some way from the road as our table was, I couldn’t see who got out. Leaning back to look around a tree, I saw that it was a woman. Before her first foot stepped on the grass I knew she would come our way. Everything about her from her energy to her stride revealed her to be a varúlfur. Ty fell silent and sat up straight and stiff. The tightening around his eyes made it obvious he was fighting for control of his temper. Was that veiled anger in his eyes? I couldn’t quite tell, but I didn’t like what it meant about the woman walking across the grass.
An athletic body was clothed in gray slacks and a darker gray top that revealed quite a bit of cleavage. A plait of long brown hair swung as she walked. Severe brown eyes glared at me from a face that might have been pretty if it didn’t look so hostile. The glare only deepened when her gaze shifted to Ty, turning into something almost feral. That look told me all I needed to know about her animosity toward me. And damn if it didn’t make me hate her.
“Hello, Tyler,” she said coldly.
“Morene.” Ty’s tone was neutral, careful.
In a flash too quick to be real, her energy changed and she smiled as she looked to Candice. “On behalf of the Council of Elders, I apologize for what has happened to you. I will take you to people who will help you through this, you have my word.” She had that same quality to her voice that told me her first language wasn’t English.
She sounded sincere enough, but part of me still didn’t like her. Before she had arrived Ty had explained to Candice that she needed a teacher of her own to get through this. To my surprise, she had asked for me to do it. When he had explained that I was still going through the verða myself, she had asked for him to do it. Though it seemed like the best option to me, he had insisted that she needed a kennari of her own, one who could focus solely on her. I don’t know what I had expected, but this woman was not it.
I couldn’t help but notice her nails were short and stubby, some clearly having been chewed, as she stuck her hand out to Candice. Like everything else about her, that rubbed me the wrong way.
“I’m Morene,” she said.
Candice only stared at her hand as she finished chewing a mouthful of fries. Her hard eyes scanned the woman from top to bottom. Swallowing, she cocked her head. “Yeah, I got that. I’m Candice.”
Pulling the open wrapper that held the fries closer, she stuffed another handful in her mouth and leaned back to cross her arms over her chest. “And what happens after you get me to people who will ‘help me through this’?”
Morene sat down on the edge of the bench as far from Ty as she could get. “Then you get to decide whether you want to stay with us, or leave.” The words were tight and the tone controlled, leading me to believe they weren’t entirely truthful.
Candice turned to look at me. “Will I be safe with her?”
The question struck a protectiveness deep inside me, making me turn a questioning gaze to Ty. By his pinched look, he clearly wasn’t happy about it, but he nodded. Determined not to scare her, but to get the whole story later, I met Candice’s eyes again. “Yes. I trust Ty’s judgment.” I looked to Ty again. “Got a pen and paper?”
Like any good teacher, he produced both from a pocket of his jacket. I wrote my cell number down and handed it to Candice. “You can call me if you need anything, or if you just want to talk.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
Elbows resting on the edge of the table, Morene leaned forward. “We’ll stop on the way out of town and get you one.”
Gaze never leaving mine, Candice took the piece of paper and shoved it in the pocket of her worn-out jeans. “All right,” she said to me.
Promises of also stopping for more food finally got Candice moving toward the Xterra. Barely concealing a look of begrudging tolerance that bordered on hostility, Morene stared Ty down for a tense moment. I walked them to the vehicle, Ty shadowing me much farther behind. There were no tear-filled good-byes, hugging, or even much more than a nod, but Candice’s eyes told me all I needed to know. She was grateful but was trusting this woman only because I did. The moment the engine revved to life and Morene began to back the SUV out of the parking spot, I turned to Ty.
“Want to tell me why I’m placing that girl’s life in the hands of someone you obviously can’t stand?”
“She will be safe with her, you have my word.”
Though the words were measured and controlled, his clenched fists gave away his fury. He started for the truck.
“Why don’t you like that woman?” I pushed.
“It does not matter,” he said as he got in and shut the door.
Determined, I jumped in the passenger side and turned to him. “It does if it affects that girl’s life.”
His hands clenched the wheel so tight I saw imprints. “It does not. She and I have history. It ended badly, that is all.” As he spoke I saw the gleam of fangs.
Compelled by something I couldn’t fight, I laid a hand on his arm. It was like placing my hand on a wood stove. Despite the sting, I refused to pull away. Breathing heavy, fangs bared, he turned to me, but it wasn’t hostility that flashed in his eyes, it was pain. Damn if that didn’t make him even sexier. It shouldn’t have after what I’d been through. But where Raul’s wolfiness had felt threatening and dangerous, Ty’s made my blood heat up.
“I’m sorry. If you feel she’s safe, then I trust your judgment,” I said softly.
As a long breath eased from, him, his fangs retracted. I was about to pull my hand back when his came to rest on top of it, trapping it in a wonderful cocoon of heat. “Thank you. I am sorry, I did not know they would send her.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
His hand let go of mine to start the truck. “No.”
Though I knew they were long gone, I glanced in the rearview mirror. “Do you think Candice will make it through the verða?”
He nodded without hesitation. “It is easier for the young. Their minds are resilient, malleable. The concept does not seem so foreign to them, therefore the risk of madness is less.”
“How do you know that if there hasn’t been a new varúlfur in so long?” If he was just trying to make me feel better, I needed to know.
“The kennari handbook.”
“Seriously?”
Another nod.
“How did you find her?” he asked.
He shifted into reverse and I sat back in my seat, pulling my seatbelt on. “I saw her sitting in the coffee shop, coincidence I guess.”
As he turned my way to look behind us, his doubtful gaze raked across mine. “Which is weird enough in itself. But, how did you know she was a new varúlfur?”
I shrugged. “Varúlfur radar. I assumed that was a thing.”
His brows knitted together as he pulled out onto the virtually traffic-free road. “It is, sort of. But only after you have gone through the verða.”
The way he kept his tone guarded, it was hard to tell, but I think he sounded mystified. Between the dappled shadows and sunlight caused by the trees lining the road and the way he kept his eyes firmly ahead, I couldn’t tell much by trying to read his face, either.
“So I’m an early bloomer,” I suggested.
“Maybe, I do not know. According to the literature it is not supposed to happen. But like I said, you are the first new varúlfur in my lifetime. Well, you and now Candice.”
“Wait, there’s literature on this? More than just the kennari handbook?”
Tension drained from his body and he relaxed back into the seat. “Of course.” The playful tone of his voice suggested it wasn’t so simple.
“Why haven’t you let me read it?”
He shot a half grin my way. “It is in Icelandic.”
“Oh.”
A determination the likes of which I hadn’t felt since my first year of college came over me. Crazy as it was, this was my life now—or would be if I survived. I had to know as much as possible. “Will you teach it to me?”
“Icelandic?”
“No, Chinese.” I rolled my eyes upward. “Yes, Icelandic.”
“If you really want to learn it.”
Was that a challenge I heard in his voice?
“I do.”
“All right then. We will start when we get back to the cabin.”
I grinned at him, pouring all the challenge I could into it. “Excellent.”
Sitting back, I crossed my arms beneath my breasts and turned my attention to the tree-lined roadside. It wasn’t that I thought Ty was withholding information, quite the opposite. I needed answers to things I wasn’t willing to ask him yet. Like, why was I drawn to a rune that looked like the birthmark on my hip? Why had I known that girl was a new varúlfur who’d yet to go through the verða? And more importantly, how had I known she needed my help? Me of all people, who could barely help myself.