by E.J. Stevens
Normally, when I looked at my calendar I noticed the moon phases first and the number of days until Samhain second. I hadn’t given the future much thought beyond survival.
But that was no way to live.
Last night while fending off inevitable sleep, and the nightmares that it brings, I let my mind wander to happier thoughts. If I could do anything I wanted after high school, what would it be? That was a tough question. First, I made a mental list of my favorite things—Cal, my friends, art, anime, flea markets—then I fantasized about how these things could become my future.
Gordy was enrolled in a program for art and digital animation. He was following our love of anime and manga, and was really good at it too. But as much as I’d love to team up with Gordy on a manga project someday, I had a different focus.
Ever since my brush with death, I’d been able to see a glowing aura around ghosts. What if I used my artistic talent to paint unique pictures of something that no one else could see?
I loved the idea of painting something totally unique so much I bounced on the bed and had to cover my mouth with both hands to hold in a squee of excitement. I crept to my desk and sat up most of the night sketching out ideas.
There were a few places in Wakefield where I knew I could locate ghosts. Perhaps, I could find my muse while helping spirits of the dead find eternal peace. That idea made me ecstatically happy.
My daydreaming also involved getting a stall at my favorite flea market, for showing and selling my paintings. I could decorate the stall with black satin, no burgundy damask, no purple velvet—the possibilities seemed endless. In each scenario one thing remained constant; Cal was always by my side.
I leaned into Cal’s hand, enjoying the rough feeling of his warm palm against my cool skin. Cal always ran hot. I was pretty sure it was a werewolf thing. I’d ask Emma if Simon was the same, but, you know, ewww. I was okay with them dating, sort of, but not quite ready for the intimate details.
“I had an epiphany last night,” I said.
I turned my head to gaze into Cal’s deep ocean eyes, his hand still cupping my cheek.
“About?” he asked, a lazy grin on his full lips.
Cal’s voice had gone husky and I was having trouble concentrating, but it was important that I share my idea with him. I had been keeping too many secrets lately. It was time to start letting people back in, and I was starting with Cal.
“What do think about running an art stall in the flea market?” I asked.
“Will we be selling your art?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I can finger paint at best.”
I laughed remembering Cal’s attempt at making a valentine card for me last February. In the attempted drawing, I looked like Sasquatch, and a wolf that looked suspiciously like a poodle was holding an amorphous blob that was supposed to be his heart.
“My art, definitely,” I said. “I have an entire concept, but as for decorating the stall, I’m torn between all black fabric or…”
Cal closed the distance between us, pressing his heated lips against my own. His hand brushed along my cheek as he slid his fingers into my hair. Time stopped. We were the only two people in the universe.
I leaned into Cal, enjoying our moment of bliss. I felt energized and relaxed, all at the same time. Cal was better than hot chocolate.
When he pulled away, my lips tingled. He kissed the bridge of my nose and leaned his forehead against mine.
“I love that idea,” he said.
“So, if I create the paintings, you’ll help me with the stall?” I asked breathlessly.
“Yes, I’ll do anything you need,” he said.
“Anything?” I asked.
“Anything,” he said.
“Then kiss me,” I said.
Chapter 42
Emma
I intercepted Yuki before her torturous daily trip past the supply closet. We hadn’t had time to talk about her abduction, and the resulting panic attacks, but I wasn’t letting my friend suffer this alone. Not anymore.
“Yo, Yuki, hold up,” I shouted.
Yuki turned to face me, already appearing nervous about the prospect of running the supply closet gauntlet. Her pale face looked gray beneath a layer of rice powder, and a sheen of sweat beaded along her hairline. Her hands twisted the straps of her backpack in a vice-like grip. The black polish on her nails was scratched down to mere specks—never a good sign.
“Hey,” she said. “What are you doing up here? Don’t you have class downstairs?”
“Confession time,” I said. “I finished my assignments…and have been working from the media room this period.”
“H-how long have you been doing that?” she asked.
“Over a week,” I said. I looked pointedly at the closet door visible past Yuki’s shoulder. “I know about the panic attacks.”
“Oh,” she said.
Yuki looked away then lifted her chin to meet my gaze. There was something different about her today. She may still be anxious about walking past the door where her captors held her a few months ago, but I could see some of the old Yuki spunk in her eyes.
“Can I walk with you today?” I asked.
“I don’t have to drink any of your teas, do I?” she asked, scrunching her nose.
“No,” I said, chuckling. “No teas. Not today anyway.”
“Cool,” she said.
I stepped closer, ready to walk with her up the hall. I figured the best approach for today would be to keep Yuki distracted as we walked past the offending door.
“Are we on for library research this afternoon?” I asked.
I knew we talked about all of this last night, but I needed to get Yuki talking…and moving. Her breath came in rapid puffs, like a startled bird, but Yuki put one booted foot forward.
“Yeah,” she said. “After school.”
“Good,” I said. “We need to try to save that girl, Sarah Randall. If we can discover the Grabber’s identity, there’s a possibility the authorities can get to him before he hurts her.”
Yuki let go of the straps of her bag and clenched both hands into fists at her side. Her feet clomped against linoleum as she stomped across the floor.
“He’s not going to touch that girl,” she said. “Not if I can help it.”
Yuki reached up to press one palm against her temple. She winced, but not at the memories that hid behind the supply room door. She didn’t even look in that direction. No, I knew the signs of a headache. Yuki was suffering from another migraine, probably triggered by a powerful smell impression. Rose Hathaway must be agitated by our discussion.
If I’d been murdered and buried in the park, I’d be agitated too.
“Maybe Simon will have something for us by the time we reach the library,” I said hopefully.
Simon had connections everywhere, some from his shady past and others from his skill at flirting with the opposite sex. I may be the library research queen, but Simon ruled the art of word of mouth. He was also king of the supernatural grapevine. If a photographer in the area had a reputation for violent or depraved behavior, Simon would find out.
“Cal said they may be late to the library,” she said. “He wants to check out something my spirit guide said.”
“And that was?” I asked.
“That the answers were in the ground,” she said, shrugging. “My guide always talks in riddles, and I did find the skull in the ground, so I’m sure it’s nothing. But Cal and Simon want to check the grave site for clues.”
“They’re not...” I said. I had to swallow a lump in my throat before continuing on. “They don’t plan on digging her up, do they?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No way. I already asked and Cal said he wouldn’t disturb the slumber of the dead. But he wants to search the ground around the skull, just in case I missed something. It was dark, and I was totally freaked out, so it’s possible that there are still clues out there waiting to be found.”
I pictured Calvin and Simon scratching
at the earth around the shallow grave and shuddered.
“I’d much rather stick to library research,” I said.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” she said. “I’d rather wrestle with flying monkeys than go back there while the Grabber remains free.” She touched her head again and winced. “Not really a big fan of smell attacks either. This headache is killing me. I’ll leave sniffing around creeptastic grave sites to Cal.”
The door to Yuki’s class came into view and I smiled.
“Well, I’ll see you after school,” I said.
Yuki’s brow furrowed and her lips paled.
“Aren’t you going to walk me to class?” she asked.
“Already did,” I said. I pointed at the classroom door. “See you after final period.”
“Son of a dung beetle,” she muttered. “How did she do that?”
It was the last thing I heard Yuki say as she shuffled into her class, a dazed smile on her face.
Chapter 43
Calvin
I grinned as I reread the text from Yuki. Emma giving me ride 2 library. C U there!
I was happy that Emma and Yuki were hanging out again. It was also a relief to know that Yuki was safely away from the grave site. My pack scouts hadn’t seen anyone approach the area, but the Grabber could show up at any time.
Part of me wanted him to show up.
I let out a low growl and stalked into the clearing. My wolf pushed its way to the surface, struggling to break free. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath, letting my wolf senses heighten without fully shifting. The full moon was drawing close, weakening my control.
I was new to my werewolf abilities, a mere pup as Simon continually reminded me, but I was also pack alpha. With pack members nearby, I had to demonstrate my dominance. Involuntarily losing control of my wolf would be seen as a sign of weakness.
And if I changed fully into my wolf form this close to the full moon, I may not be able to change back. Missing finals week was unacceptable, and I didn’t think my teachers would let a wolf sit for my exams.
So I focused on the changes within my body and fought to exert my will over my wolf half. Soon, I promised. I would travel north to the hundreds of acres of Maine woods the pack owned, as soon as the Grabber was found and graduation was over. There I could run and hunt without fear of humans.
But I wasn’t on pack land. I was in a public park and would not risk the secret of my people because of a lack of control.
Eyes closed, I visualized the changes within myself. I began at my feet and worked my way up through my body, and the corresponding chakras. My body relaxed as I visualized sending all tension and negative thoughts out through the crown of my head as white light, to return to the earth mother to be cleansed. My wolf was hovering at the surface, but we were now at peace with each other.
I opened my eyes to a vivid riot of color. The clearing itself had not changed, but I had. I remained in human form, but now my senses were heightened by the close presence of my wolf spirit.
The vibrant red of the roses seemed painfully bright as they wound their way up the moss covered stone wall. It was no wonder that Yuki chose this location to paint. A breeze carried the scent of roses to my wolf-enhanced nose, and birds sang in the trees. The place would have been a tranquil place for a picnic, if not for the skull peeking out of the soil.
I scanned the ground looking for clues as Simon loped into the clearing. The snorting sounds from his direction, as he scented the air, seemed unnaturally loud to my sensitive ears. Simon was our most skilled tracker. If the killer had been here recently, he would be able to catch his scent.
“Anything?” I asked. I didn’t take my eyes from the ground, continuing to search for anything the killer may have left behind.
“Sorry, mate,” he said. “There’s nothing here. Just Yuki’s scent all over the clearing and park trail. I can smell the paints she used, some snack food she must have brought here, and the chain oil from her bicycle, but nothing helpful. The crime is too old and the Grabber hasn’t returned here recently.”
A pebble shot toward me as Simon kicked the gravel path with his expensive shoes. His frustration was beginning to show, if you knew where to look. He may try to act indifferent, but Simon had a sympathetic streak for hard cases. His time living on the streets had taught him the horrors that humans can inflict upon each other, especially on the weak. Simon wanted to rescue Sarah Randall from the Grabber, but we had to find him first.
“Don’t worry, man,” I said. “We will find the Grabber, and we’ll save that girl.”
I crouched, examining the ground at the base of the rock wall. I could see pieces of candy and trail mix scattered near the skull and imagined the hand that held the snack food flailing as Yuki realized the pale object in front of her wasn’t rock, but human bone.
In the shadow of the wall, something caught my eye. Running my hands along the mossy ground, I found a small piece of paper sticking out of the rock wall. The paper was thick, the type used for high quality business cards or party invitations. Only one corner remained. The only reason it survived the passage of time at all was its location wedged between the stones, where a rough protrusion created a natural shelf from the elements.
“Do you have a pair of tweezers with you?” I asked.
“Of course,” Simon said.
With a flourish, Simon withdrew a grooming kit from his coat pocket. He was wearing his leather jacket, even though temperatures had climbed into the eighties today. I don’t know how he can stand it. Werewolves run hot. I was suffering in a cotton t-shirt and paper thin pair of jeans.
Using tweezers, I grabbed hold of the piece of paper and slowly wiggled it from side to side. With a soft sound, like the whisper of dry leaves caught in a breeze, the paper came free. Moving out of the wall’s shadow, I held it up to the light. The only thing remaining on the card was a sunburst insignia.
“There’s no text,” I said, shaking my head. “But maybe we can trace this symbol.”
“It’s more than we had,” Simon said. He tilted his head to the sky and let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, let’s go see what the girls have found. Maybe this will make more sense once we have information on photographers who have worked in Wakefield.”
I remembered the words of Mahatma Ghandi and felt a stirring of hope. When I despair, I remember that all through history the ways of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall.
Leaving Rose Peterson in this shallow grave might have been the beginning of the Grabber’s downfall. With the smell impressions that Yuki sensed and the sunburst symbol to go on, we have a chance of catching this murderer.
I smiled at the card in my hand. In the end they always fall.
Chapter 44
Yuki
I rubbed my neck and groaned.
“I feel like my eyes are bleeding,” I said. “I so totally need a break.”
Emma and I had been scouring yearbooks, newspapers, and phone books looking for the names of photographers who had photographed Wakefield events in the past. We were focusing on school events like graduation, but the number of names increased by the minute.
The list was huge.
I wished we could call Gordy and Katie for research help, but Katie’s parents were freaking out over reports of the Graduation Grabber being back in town. When Gordy’s uncle offered for them to stay with his family for the weekend, Katie’s parents jumped at the chance. They picked up Gordy and Katie from school and drove straight to the beach house.
I thought it might be kind of awkward for Katie, hanging out with both Gordy’s family and her parents, but she sounded excited when they told us about it over lunch. Apparently, she was planning on putting both families to work, preparing for the graduation party there the following weekend.
We could have used their help with our search for the Grabber, but I guess it was for the best. It was hard
to keep the secret of my psychic gift, and the fact I’m dating a werewolf, from Gordy and Katie. But there were so many sources to check, and I felt like we were running out of time.
I groaned again.
Warm hands rested on my shoulders and began kneading away the knots of tension. Cal. He leaned in and kissed the skin behind my ear, sending a shiver up my spine.
“Miss me?” he asked.
“Always,” I said, turning to look into his smiling face. He was wearing a familiar toothy grin, but beneath the surface he looked tired. Maybe we all needed a break.
I turned to Emma to plead my case, but she was lip locked with Simon. So gross. I needed brain bleach, stat.
Focusing on Cal was so much better, and much less likely to make me vomit on the book in front of me.
“Find anything spooktacular at the park?” I asked.
I avoided saying “at Rose’s grave,” but the ghost perked up anyway, producing a burst of smell and sending a shooting pain to join its friends behind my eyes.
“Just this,” he said.
Cal set a plastic sandwich bag on the desk. Inside the clear bag was a small piece of dark paper. I reached out with shaking hands and lifted the bag to the light, turning it to look at both sides of the heavy paper. It looked like the corner of a business card.
Emma, finished with her kissing, leaned in for a closer look.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A clue, love,” Simon said, waggling his eyebrows.
Emma punched him playfully on the hip and turned to Cal. He was more likely to give us straight answers.
“It looks like some kind of symbol, maybe from a business logo or personal insignia,” he said.
Emma slid her chair closer and I licked my lips and fidgeted in my seat. If we could match up that symbol with one of the photographer’s ads, we’d know who the Grabber was.
