by Holly Hook
The dark brown wolf leaps on Tan while he's in his distracted state.
And rips right into the back of his neck.
A horrible taste rises in my mouth but with a sense of satisfaction. Blood flows, staining the back of Tan's neck, and the other wolf grinds his teeth in harder and harder. I grit my own teeth together and back into a tree, going still, trying to make myself unseen.
I should run.
But I can't.
The smaller wolf tugs Tan down onto his side and releases the back of his neck.
I gag.
It's raw hamburger meat. Blood runs down the sides of the wolf's neck as it turns its angry gaze at the brown wolf.
Tan's eyes shimmer with rage...and hurt.
I hold my breath.
The dark wolf growls at Tan, who hesitates, then backs off. Then Tan lowers its head, pressing his chin to the ground.
Submission.
But as Tan lies there, he turns one dark brown eye to me. And I gulp. There's something intelligent and crafy there.
This is your fault.
And sooner or later you're going to pay.
The dark wolf growls again, inclining his head to the side as if telling Tan to go away. The motion is unmistakable, almost human. No, it is human. Tan remains there for a moment, then slowly rises, turns, and despite bleeding from the scruff, he bolts into the trees.
The other wolf watches for a long time.
Meanwhile, I stand there.
"Are you okay?" I blurt.
Yes. I'm asking a wolf it he's okay.
Slowly, as if he can't believe it, the dark wolf turns. He licks the last of the blood off his muzzle, almost as if ashamed to be seen this way.
We lock gazes. This wolf has hazel eyes, eyes like no wolf should have, and just then, the rain slows enough for me to make out the faint rusty highlights of his fur. Then the creature turns its gaze to the can of bear spray still in my hand. A strange look comes over his eyes and I lower the can.
He lets out a breath.
Is that a sigh of relief?
Beckah, you're going crazy.
"I've got to go now," I say, finally coming to my senses. Then slowly, to not provoke the creature, I turn away.
As if I trust this animal.
A low growl meets my ears and as I start to walk, the wolf appears in front of me, blocking the way forward on the road. I stop, but not out of fear, and we stare at each other again. I should be scared, but I'm not.The look in his eyes is desperate. Maybe even frightened.
I let out a breath. And somehow, I also know that this wolf doesn't want to hurt me. Yeah. Logical conclusion, Beckah. Maybe he just wants to kill me himself and chased Tan off—but my explantion feels right. I'm tempted to reach out and pet him, but I hold back. "Okay. You saved my butt twice."
He grunts a bit. And with his head, he motions to the wooded trail I took yesterday. Then as I watch, he takes a step, looks at me again, and waits.
"You want me to follow you."
Then the wolf does something I've seen no animal do.
He nods.
I blink. The rain slows further, offering a break, and I flick a strand of wet hair from my head. "Unreal.”
I should get home, back to Gia's to help out with the chores, but I don't want to, well, abandon the wolf who got Tan off me, even if we're almost even in the saving-each-other department. I shake the can of bear spray, listening to the fluid inside slosh. I've still got some left and even though I don't think Tan will come back after getting bloodied and blinded, I'll keep it out. There might be more wolves out there like him and even if there aren't, he outweighs the dark brown wolf by about fifty pounds.
So I follow the brown wolf, and he leads the way down the trail, nose to the ground most of the time, but every minute or so he lifts his head and sniffs, scanning the area. Each time he does, I stop, waiting for the tan wolf to return.
"What am I doing?" I mutter to myself. I'm so freaked out and amazed by what's happening that I can't even manage my nervous singing. Of course following a wild animal into the woods and away from civilization is a bad idea. But I can't stop, and that's my fault.
If I turn away, will he let me go?
We arrive at the fork in what seems like no time. It's as if this wolf is rushing me along, looking back at me, trying to urge me to hurry. And after we both almost died, I can't blame it.
And then he takes the leftmost trail.
We're going to the little castle house.
I take a sharp breath, hoping he doesn't notice.
I laugh. Really? I'm in a fantasy story. Maybe even a strange fairy tale. Then again, they're all strange, aren't they? “Beckah, what are you doing?”
And at last, the small castle house appears as the world opens up into the grassy clearing. Today, I spot no one else here, and the house's peaked roof and small towers shine with wetness as the sun struggles to come out. And then it does, turning the area bright and shiny. The vibrant rose bush remains, bathing in the sun, and the wolf eyes it briefly before turning to me.
Is that hesitation in his eyes? Maybe even a warning? Hey, please don't freak out?
"Okay," I blurt. "I've followed you this far. I know something weird is going on." And as I speak those words, I feel that already cracked wall coming down in my mind. Yes. There is something strange in Tower and I'm about to get a front row seat. "Thanks for not killing me, you know. And thanks for getting that other wolf to leave me alone. I was happy to hit him in the face."
The dark wolf's rusted highlights shine in the sun as he faces me. And slowly, as if making sure I won't run away, he backs behind a thick shrub that might have once been part of a fancy landscaping project. But now it's misshapen, revealing no hints as to its former shape.
And I hold my breath, knowing what's about to happen as the wolf vanishes from view.
I can't move away as the painful stretching sounds and the popping follows. The wolf yelps at first, but that's the only animal sound, and soon human grunts and groans emerge from behind the shrub.
I bite my lip so hard that it bleeds, and the taste of iron mixes with the crackling sensation coming from the rose bush. I back towards it, stepping into the former garden, as the awful sounds hit a firework peak and finally stop.
My mind makes one last grasp at boring reality and gives up as Tyler Rose leans around the shrub, shirtless, muscular, and completely hot.
"Hey," he says, sheepish. "Can you walk into the house and grab me a bag of clothes? Oh, and it looks like I owe you an explanation."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"You need me. To go into the house. And grab a bag of clothes," I mutter, unable to get my thoughts straight. It's true. The suspicion growing in my head since yesterday breaks out, beating down every skeptical explanation ever. Coincidence? Not at all. Hallucination? Well, Tyler's in on it too. "Um, isn't it locked? And where is the key?"
"You see that huge vase near the door? There's a secret compartment under that. I hope you can lift it okay. It's fifty pounds. I'm sorry if it gives you trouble, but I didn't expect to be bringing you out here today. Or to have to banish Alan from the pack for good."
The pack. Shit, I've wandered into a whole other reality. But I flex my arms and focus on the pot, which only has weeds growing out of it now. "Don't worry. I'm fairly athletic. My mother and I worked out at the gym a lot back in New York." Yes. I'll talk about normal things. Or I'll scream.
"You seem like the type who's no stranger to physical work," Tyler says, maintaining his place behind the shrub. He keeps his bottom half firmly behind it, and balances like a ballet dancer as he leans so far to one side I think he's going to fall over. But he keeps his balance.
He's butt naked.
And his top half is perfect, muscular, and well-proportioned. I can only imagine the bottom half, and a blush rushes into my cheeks as I turn away, focusing on the ornate clay pot. Tyler's right. It's heavy. The packed dirt in it doesn't help, but with a grunt, I turn it onto its sid
e and find the sliding door of the secret compartment. "You could have found an easier place to store a key. With everyone freaking out about you, I doubt anyone will wander over here, period." As I speak, my cheeks cool, but I fear Tyler's seen my blush already.
"So you've seen that aspect of the curse," Tyler says.
I stop before I open the little compartment. "Curse?"
"Well, what else would it be?"
"I...don't watch a lot of horror movies," I say. "Mom and I do romantic comedies."
Tyler sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I guess I belong in one. Well, Alan does now, that's for sure. I only bite and turn people who need it."
Bite people. Tyler's a...Tyler is a...and so is the whole Rose Gang...
"I don't need it, right?" I ask, tensing.
"No. You don't," Tyler says, eyes suddenly wide with horror. "I wouldn't do that to you. And I don't think the other pack members will, either."
Phew. I whirl in a circle. The key. Yes. I open the compartment and find a silver key that looks recently cut at a hardware store. Then I do the lock on the front double doors. It clicks.
This isn't a trap, is it?
If it was, Tyler wouldn't have alerted me to his true nature, right?
"There's no electricity in there. Sorry. My father cut it off years ago," Tyler says. "But there's a fireplace if you need the light. Or you can just press the easy button and open the blinds."
"I've used plenty of those," I say. Breathe, Beckah. Tyler just wants his shirt and pants.
"And my clothes should be close to there. We usually keep extra sets in the living room. Mine are in a black bag with a zipper. The clothes I was wearing are out in the woods somewhere."
I hold back a laugh, imagining Tyler's jeans lying somewhere. But I get a hold of myself. Tyler must have transformed when he realized Alan was after me.
The least I can do is grab him some clothes.
I open the door to a dark, but well-ventilated living room with stone walls, a grand fireplace, and a hanging antique chandelier that's surprisingly free of cobwebs. Old, framed photographs of Tyler, maybe around nine or ten, decorate the mantelpiece. He's in hockey gear. Smiling. So normal.
"This place is clean." I eye the attached dining room next and the patterned rug that leads there. The Rose Gang keeps up with this place. Even the piles of homework on the attached dining room table are organized. Boxes of snacks and bags of chips sit on the counters in neat rows. As my eyes adjust to the gloom, I spot drawn shades everywhere, keeping out the light, and I lift one up to let some sunlight bathe the place. Better.
The little vacation house is a dream. The wooden spiral stairs leading to the next level have polished tree branches for handles. The windows are all nice and big. Then I see the row of five bags on the fireplace. A hunter green one, a dark blue one, a pink one, a purple one, and finally, the black one in the middle.
"So we have organized werewolves," I say, finally pushing out the word. And to my shock, it's a relief to say it.
Outside, Tyler laughs.
"Did you actually hear me?" I ask.
"Of course I did," he shouts. "At least this curse has a few perks."
"Hey. At least you made this whole process easy," I say.
"We try," he yells. "This is our place, after all."
Our place. "You guys live out here?" I shout, despite the fact that Tyler can hear me fine.
"Where else would we live? People don't appreciate the wild animal smell."
"You don't smell bad," I say, though I know what he means.
I open the black bag and fish through T-shirts, folded jeans, and yes, boxers. Tyler wears boxers with a checkerboard pattern. I grab them, blushing again, and head back outside.
"Here." I toss them to him.
He catches them all in a flash of motion and vanishes completely behind the shrub. "You have good aim. Play any sports?"
"No. But I've done a lot of hiking and puffing away at the gym. Now I help my cousin garden." That's nice, sane conversation. And I'm guessing Tyler's trying to keep our exchange as normal as possible for my sake. "So you like hockey?"
"I used to. Haven't done hockey in six years." His tone darkens.
I swallow. "Oh." Was he born a werewolf or did he get bitten and become one? He changed around the fifth grade. People started staying away from him.
"Well, I bet your cousin appreciates your help," Tyler says. The sounds of unfurling clothes follows and he goes silent as he dresses. "Thanks. And I'd also like to thank you for not running away. Even people not affected by the curse would normally do that."
I force a nervous laugh. "Well?"
"Yeah. I know. Been cursed since I was eleven. Not only did it make me into this, but it made everyone in town fear me."
So the rumors are true. "Eleven?" Now we're getting into the meat of the conversation. My ears ring as the shock and panic sweep over me again. "Tyler? What did this to you?"
"I'm not sure who did it."
"Were you bitten?" Did Alan sink his teeth into Tyler and turn him?
"No. I wasn't even though that's the way is usually happens. I was cursed."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"Well, yeah. But I was cursed. Magically." At last, Tyler steps out from behind the shrub, fully dressed but looking no less hot than ever. He flicks a strand of hair out of his face. His hair is a shade that matches the wolf's, minus the faint rusty highlights. My unconscious mind must have put it together before my conscious mind did.
I should run. But I can't, not least of all because Alan is still out there.
"Don't you have any idea who cursed you, then?" I ask.
He stares at the ground and then lifts an eyebrow at me as if I should have put the pieces together by now. But a grin plays at his lips.
Oh.
The Roses are not liked in this town so there are a lot of suspects.
Tyler marches towards the front door, still keeping some distance between me and him. "I have roughly a few dozen women narrowed down."
So he knows the sex of his curser, at least. "Okay. I get it," I say, daring to walk towards him. If he wanted to hurt me or bite me, he would have done so already. "I'm, um, sorry this happened to you?"
He stops at the door. "I'd introduce myself but everyone's already told you how terrifying I am." He eyes the rose bush which still gives off that tingling sensation.
"I don't think you're terrifying," I blurt. Tyler heard what Marion and Gavin were saying about him when they showed me the Rose Gang. Unknown to the school, these people—these werewolves—can hear everything people are making up about them. "Or stuck up."
Tyler sighs in relief. "I try not to be. But that reputation comes with the territory. People mostly stay away from me because of the curse. I've heard it all. I give off a sense of dread. I just might be a cult leader. Maybe we sacrifice animals. To be fair, we've killed plenty of them, but for food, not demonic rituals. And we've harmed no people. I'm not that far gone."
"Killing animals. Isn't that what wolves do?" I'd been around plenty of wildlife before, and the few wolves I saw in national parks were pretty chill. Alan was the only exception.
Tyler rocks on his bare feet. "Yes. You're not freaked out?" His eyes widen as he leans forward, craving my answer.
I gulp, knowing that I'm going against logic. "Except for the whole Alan trying to kill me thing, no. If you wanted to rip out my throat or infect me I'd already be screwed. Right?" Then I laugh.
He crosses his arms. "I'm sorry. This has to be hard. I'm glad you're not affected by that part of the curse." And he smiles at me before eyeing the woods again. "And no, I don't smell Alan. He's probably still bleeding and I should know when he's coming even from a mile away."
Alan. Yes. For a few stupid minutes I forgot about him. "Okay. Tyler, I am going to process this one thing at a time. First, this feeling of dread everyone has around you and your friends. I don't get it."
"That's because you're not from Tower. Outs
iders aren't affected."
I think of Mom finding the rose blossom. She came out here so she must not have been affected, either. "So, all outsiders aren't scared of you?"
"So far as I know, they aren't." Tyler paces nervously around the rose bush as I stand by the door, ready to dive into the house should Alan come back. "But I can't leave Tower. I've tried. We've all tried. If we try to leave, the curse...it acts on us more harshly. We're bound here."
"You've tried to leave?" That was my next question. If everyone in town hates you, why not go somewhere else?
Tyler swallows. "It's not good if I do." And he leaves it there.
I sense I'm not supposed to ask him to elaborate.
I want to know more, but I hold back. After Tyler risked his life, I at least owe him time to take a breath. Holding back my urge to find out everything that's going on in Tower and with Tyler, I force myself to open up instead. "I suppose I should be fair. I come from rich parents too, only my dad runs an insurance company and he's very demanding. And that's something I don't want to tell people here. I've seen their attitudes."
Tyler eyes the ground. "They might not be unjustified."
I swallow. Something dark passes between us. Did your parents kick you out? But the words don't form on my lips. Instead, I say, "What your parents are doing isn't your fault. I hear my dad talking about coming up with new ways not to pay insurance claims all the time, and when he does, I feel like, well—" Oh, god. I'm telling Tyler things I've never uttered out loud to anyone before.
He looks up. "I get it. I don't speak to my parents much anymore. They got hit by the curse, too." Back then, they were still building Rose Ranch. We were staying here in our vacation home. And then she showed up."
"She?"
Tyler gulps and eyes the woods before pushing open the door. "Maybe we should go inside. The rest of the pack is probably out hunting so they won't be back for a while to do their homework. I would have been with them, too, but I followed Alan when I noticed he was missing."
"He came after me," I state.
