Perfect Dark (The Company of Wolves Book 1)

by J. A. Saare

  "You could be in serious trouble."

  "Why?" he questioned, feigning terror. "You telling on me?"

  "No." I'd never do that. Not to him. "Why didn't you talk to me?" His presence would have been more than welcome. "Why didn't you say hello?"

  "I wanted to, but I couldn't. If we'd interacted, it would have put me in direct contact with you. Meaning there would be witnesses and the like, and my validity as an alpha would be called into question. I kept my distance for a reason. It's called plausible deniability."

  Realization struck.

  "I don't have to tell you about Steven. You already know."

  "I may or may not have gone to visit a man named Steven McDaniel at a performance car shop once or twice. He seemed nice enough. He sure as hell knew his way around an engine."

  I wanted to lurch across the seat and hug him. "You haven't changed."

  "Not if I can help it."

  "You liked Steven?" I more than wanted to know, I needed to know.

  "Actually, yes. I did. He was an honest and sincere person. And he talked about you, even in passing. I wouldn't have left you anywhere near him if I thought he posed a danger to you. Even if you didn't want to come back."

  "Why are we so different from the pack, Bowen? Is it just the human in us that sets us apart?" I asked, questioning my entire existence. "Is that what makes us so different from the rest."

  Bowen sighed and considered the query. "Of course it does. In a lot of ways. Human experiences are based in choice and chance. We have absolute free will to make whatever decisions we want. Although there are repercussions for our actions, we always have a choice. Wolves are born different and have a hive mentality, as well as a stringent code. I had a hard time adjusting to it myself."

  "I feel like my entire life has been an adjustment."

  "At least you were born. Imagine being made."

  Bowen had told me about his change.

  It hadn't been easy.

  He'd been bitten before the Civil War, in a time when werewolves weren't out in the open. He'd had a hard time adapting, but since he'd retained his mind and showed immense control, he had been taken in by a pack. It didn't hurt that he was also an alpha. He couldn't change to full wolf form, but he came very close. He resembled a werewolf after a shift, but he was so large he could easily walk on his rear legs, standing upright without the assistance of a wall or object to keep his balance. Not long after he'd been brought into a pack, he'd been properly trained to lead his own. He'd been put in charge of wolves that were bitten and not born.

  "Michael said your pack is up to eight."

  "Yes, it is." Pride echoed in the words. "I want you to meet them."

  "You'd have to ask Noah." I resented the statement.

  "Ellie," he dipped his head, bringing his arms to the cushions on either side of him, "I understand why you're angry with Noah. More than anyone else would. But you need to stop viewing him with human eyes. He is a werewolf, through and through. That's why he behaves as he does. He never meant to hurt you. It's in his nature." When I started to speak he groaned and said, "Listen, I get it. I do. What he did is horrible and wrong. But he doesn't, and he will never, see it your way. He's not like us."

  "Are you taking his side?"

  "If I wanted to take his side," he reminded me, "I'd have told him where you were a long time ago."

  I wasn't sure how to respond, so I didn't.

  "I'm on your side, darlin'. I always have been. I'm just being honest."

  "If we're being honest, I need to tell you something." I didn't trust anyone but Bowen with the information. I took a deep breath and confessed, "I've kept my wolf locked away for a long time."

  "I know." He brought his arms down and rested his elbows on his knees.

  I hadn't expected the response. "How?"

  "You went to wolf form to grieve."

  Shocked by the admission, I asked, "You can tell by that?"

  He titled his head and nodded. "For those like us, it's just another thing."

  "She's not part of me." I despised saying it. "I mean, she is, but she isn't. I'm not as fast as I used to be, I'm nowhere near as strong." Recalling how my sense of smell had faltered, I told him, "My nose isn't as good."

  "The more you push her away, the worse it'll get. I know you want to be human. I understand. But you're not. You will never be. Because you're different. That's not a good or a bad thing, it simply is."

  "So what do I do?"

  He leaned over, reached across the distance, and took my hand. "You do what I do." When I frowned he finished, "You take things one day at a time."

  Chapter Eleven

  Bowen guided me into Noah's home. I felt physically and emotionally drained. I hadn't found anything at the garage, just a charred building. Even though I wanted to say goodbye, I hadn't been able to. We hadn't stayed long, going directly to the airport.

  Bowen, perceptive as always, gave me space to think and sort through my emotions. I wished I had an off switch, so I could stop the constant pressure around my heart.

  Although no one was in the living area when we arrived, I felt the presence of the pack. Unsure of how many were home, I decided it was best to go to the bedroom and sleep.

  "I'm want to a lay down."

  Bowen released my arm and took my hand. Without asking any questions, he led the way to Noah's room, opened the door, and closed it when we were inside. Then he released my hand, knelt, and helped me remove my shoes. I hadn't worn hose, thankfully.

  "Do you want to change?"

  The soft cotton dress was more than adequate to rest in. "I'm fine in this."

  He went to the bed to pull the blankets back, when I noticed the phone on the charger. I'd completely forgotten about it, functioning on auto-pilot. It was blinking, meaning Steven had left a message.

  My chest tightened and my breathing stilted.

  Bowen gazed at me. "Ellie?"

  I pointed at the phone, unable to move closer to it.

  Bowen took the cell from the charger and powered it down. "It's not going anywhere. You can check it when you're ready." He deposited it in the drawer and motioned to the bed. "Hop in."

  As soon as I laid down in the middle of the bed, he tucked me in.

  Steven had done that, too.

  I'd fallen asleep on his sofa.

  He roused me when he'd covered me with a blanket.

  The tears returned, and I tried not to make any noise. It wasn't easy. I wanted to scream, howl, lash out, and gasp for breath. But I didn't, knowing the pack would hear an outburst. They already knew how miserable I felt. Any werewolf in a nearby proximity would scent my heartache and devastation. Likely that had been the reason none of them had been in the living room. There were angry, but feeling my pain meant they'd instinctually want to ease my suffering.

  They probably didn't think I deserved that.

  Bowen didn't leave, taking the empty space on my right. He remained above the covers, placing an arm around me. I turned toward him and rested my forehead against his chest. Still, I cried, unable to stop. He didn't say anything, quietly holding me.

  I heard the door open, but didn't look up.

  I identified the visitors by scent.

  Trisha and Jonathan.

  They didn't say a word.

  I felt the bed shift behind me and felt another arm wrap around me, followed by another. Trisha had laid down directly behind me, her swollen stomach nestled carefully against my back, with Jonathan resting behind her. They let their wolves rise, searching for mine. I caved, letting my beast come to the surface. They came together, finding solace and comfort in each other.

  In a few minutes, I could breathe again.

  I still hurt. I still grieved.

  But they took a large portion of the burden.

  I sniffed, hating how weak I'd become. "I'm sorry."

  "Shh," Trisha said softly. "We've got you."

  It had been so long since I'd felt the comfort of the pack. I'd al
most forgotten how powerful my link with them could be. They didn't speak, simply surrounding and holding me. Letting me know I didn't have to face my grief and sorrow alone.

  As my eyes closed, tears came again.

  Only this time, I wasn't mourning Steven.

  I was shedding tears for those I'd hurt with my actions.

  I didn't deserve their comfort.

  They had every right to turn me away.

  I'd wounded them so deeply.

  "Rest now." Bowen's words weren't a suggestion. I felt the alpha rise, giving a direct order to my wolf. My thoughts became muddled. He inched closer, placing his chin on top of my head. "Now, Ellie. Go to sleep."

  Unable to resist, I did.

  ◆◆◆

  The smell of freshly cooked food woke me.

  I opened my eyes.

  Noah stood by the bed, holding a tray.

  My stomach growled, and I realized I hadn't eaten anything the day before. I moved to sit up and noticed Bowen, Trisha, and Jonathan had left some time before. The blankets weren't warm from their body heat. I reclined against the headboard and lowered my gaze.

  Noah placed the tray over my legs.

  I didn't know what to say to him. I no longer felt angry or resentful.

  He wasn't responsible for what happened to Steven.

  "Tom called," Noah told me and sat on the side of the bed. "The license plate was a dead-end. It was registered to a truck that had been totaled in a wreck last year. The man kept it in his backyard for parts. He hadn't even noticed the tag had been removed. The man we're looking for must have stolen it."

  This I could do. Focus on work.

  I cautiously looked at him. "Did you go to Burlesque?"

  "Not yet." He didn't meet my gaze, looking at the wall. "You know the scent we're looking for. I hoped you'd go with me." He shifted his weight and this time he was the one who lowered his head. "If you need time off, I'll make it happen. You can visit your family or do whatever you like. Jasper can accompany me."

  "No," I said it so quickly, Noah gazed at me. "I'll go."

  I tore into the food, making quick work of the pancakes and sausage.

  "Max called. Annabel's worried about you."

  I almost choked on my orange juice. "You told her what happened?"

  "Max told her a friend of yours passed away. You promised you'd come see her. When you didn't, he had to tell her something."

  Shit.

  "Can we go there today?"

  Noah's face changed, softening. "We can go anywhere you want. The next few days, you make the calls. I meant it when I said you can take a break. I can handle the case. You don't have to think or worry about it. Jasper won't mind taking your place."

  "I need the distraction." Harsh to say, as it indicated Noah was only a device to get past Steven's loss, but nonetheless true. "I need to stay busy."

  If he was insulted, I couldn't sense or scent it.

  He waited until I'd finished and took the tray.

  "We can leave as soon as you're ready."

  I felt grimy and had serious bed head. "I need a shower."

  "Take your time." He opened the door and peered over at me. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

  He closed the door with his heel and left.

  ◆◆◆

  "You're here!"

  Annabel didn't wait for me to climb the stairs, bounding down them as she barreled toward me. I'd barely braced myself when she threw her arms up and leapt into the air. I caught her, winding my arms around her waist. I hadn't understood just how fragile she was, how delicate. Although she was a pureblood werewolf, she hadn't shifted. She wouldn't until she hit puberty. She would be vulnerable. If she sustained injuries, they wouldn't heal right away. Fully recognizing the fact, I wanted to cover her in bubble wrap. I pressed my nose into the hollow of her neck, breathing her in. She smelled like wildflowers and sunshine.

  She smelled like home.

  "I'm sorry it took so long."

  "It's okay." Her arms tightened around my neck as she gave me a hug. Then she titled back to look at me, pressing her tiny hands against my chest for leverage. Her shiny green eyes were understanding. "I'm sorry about your friend."

  One part of me wanted to cry. The other wanted me to hug her again.

  "Thank you."

  "You want to see my tree house?" Already she'd moved on to something else, very much a little girl who went from one thing to another. "Daddy put up a tire swing, but it doesn't really swing. It mostly spins." Disappointment oozed from her. "The rope isn't that long."

  "Sure."

  I lowered her and glanced over my shoulder.

  Noah had stopped several feet away, watching us.

  He'd been like that all day, studying me from afar.

  I'd scented compassion coming from him, which I understood. The guilt, however, was confusing. Maybe there was something he hadn't told me. Or perhaps he thought I'd shift and take shelter in the woods again.

  Little fingers hooked around mine.

  I pivoted, looking at Annabel.

  "This way."

  She tugged me in the direction she wanted me to go.

  I dutifully followed her around the house to the backyard.

  The tree house was impressive. Max had not only crafted a miniature house around a tree, he'd made stairs and railing leading up to the structure. The base had been carefully constructed, ensuring the floor would remain level and balanced. I wanted to laugh at the swing, seeing what Annabel meant. He'd chosen a low hanging branch, using as little rope as possible. In essence, he'd made her a glorified place to sit.

  "Wow."

  "You like it?" She climbed the stairs and shot me a quick look.

  "Very impressive."

  "I want to sleep out here, but Momma says she has to stay out here with me. I don't want her out here with me. I might as well be in my room."

  "What about your friends?"

  The bitter fragrance of anxiety filled the air.

  "Nah, I don't want them to see it."

  I immediately detected the lie. "Why not?"

  "Look, I have a bed. It's not that soft, but it's comfortable."

  The structure was roomy, the ceilings tall enough that I didn't have to crouch, although Noah or Max would. The interior had been completely decorated. The walls had been painted pink and white. There were shelves with coloring books and crayons. A small table with little chairs sat in the center of the area. There was even a little sink against one wall.

  "Annabel." She looked at me, and I made sure our gazes met. "Why don't you want your friends to see your tree house? Our father worked hard. You should be proud of it."

  "I am proud of it. Daddy did everything I asked him to. Except for the swing, I want him to fix it. He said it's too dangerous, but if I ask him some more he'll change his mind. He always does." That much was true, I could see it in her eyes. But then they darkened, her irises becoming a forest green. "I don't have many friends."

  "Why?"

  "We live pretty far from everyone."

  That was true.

  Max's house was at least a twenty minute drive from anything. That hadn't bothered me when I'd come to live with him. I'd liked the space. Since Annabel had likely been born at the compound, she should have been introduced to others her age.

  "Doesn't your mother take you to the running grounds?" The place was like a playground, only bigger. There were slides, swing sets, monkey bars, and obstacle courses.

  She shrugged, and I felt angry.

  If she'd never visited the park, I planned on taking her.

  "You've never been?"

  "I have. A couple of times."

  "Didn't you like it?"

  "I like it okay, I guess. But I don't like the kids there. They're mean and rude, and they lie."

  I pulled a chair from the table and sat. "What do they lie about?"

  "Nothing."

  Something was bothering her.

  No, it was more tha
n that.

  Whatever it was upset her.

  "I'm your big sister. You can trust me." She didn't respond, and I pushed the issue. "What do they say?"

  "They're liars! Okay?" Her eyes brightened and she put her hands on her hips. As a child, it was amusing. Still, I realized when she grew up, she'd be formidable. "They said you were never coming home. But that isn't true. You're here now."

  Oh shit.

  The children were probably the progeny of the females who'd never accepted me when I'd come to the compound. They'd probably told their own children all kinds of garbage over the years. Especially since they knew I'd ditched Noah and left. They didn't fear coming face-to-face with me, if I called them out, because they'd thought it would never happen.

  "What else did they say?"

  Maybe I shouldn't have asked, but a part of me wanted to know. Once I had the names of the children, I'd find out the names of the parents. Then I'd be paying them a visit. If anyone wanted to bad mouth me, they were welcome to. But they were not going to put an innocent little girl—my baby sister—in the middle of their backstabbing gossip.

  They would not alienate her from her pack. I'd never allow it.

  "I told you," she sounded annoyed. "Lies."

  "Like?"

  She sighed and went to retrieve a coloring book and crayons. "They said you were weak and ugly and stupid. They said Noah didn't love you anymore and you don't belong here." She turned and plopped the items down on the table. "If I see them again, I'm telling them they're the ones who are weak and ugly and stupid."

  "They'd better be careful." I studied her, brimming with pride. "I bet they haven't gotten a taste of your temper yet."

  "They almost did. I was going to slap them." Her little growl revealed she wasn't happy she'd missed her chance. "Momma stopped me."

  "I'm glad you didn't." I snagged a crayon and gazed at her work. She was incredibly adapt, shading the outside of the drawings, coloring carefully within the lines. "Bullies are awful. I've met more than my fair share. When you get older, you'll realize they're usually jealous of something. That's why they say the things they do. If you hit them, you're lowering yourself to their level."