by Cheree Alsop
“Zev’s Pack,” I repeated. “I like it.”
Smiles spread across their faces.
“So what now, fearless pack leader?” Mitch asked, his tone light as if he guessed how reluctant I was to accept the title.
I glanced up at the moon. “How about a run?” I suggested. “Now that the silver’s gone, I could use a chance to stretch my muscles.” I gave a taunting grin. “If you guys think you can keep up with me.”
“Oh, you’re on,” Safira said.
“Definitely,” Frost echoed as he pulled off his shirt.
I took mine off and glanced down. The mark on my chest still caught me off guard.
Something had happened when Isley filled me with her light to make me phase. In the midst of the pain of my body battling the silver’s hold, the white handprint on my chest from the witch had changed to a black wolf pawprint with jagged edges. Virgo’s guess was that it was from my wolf blood beating the silver. I had to admit that it was far better than the handprint at least.
Mitch paused in the act of slipping off his shoes. “You alright?”
I threw my shirt to the ground and nodded. “Better than ever.”
I willed the phase to come and was grateful when it did without any pain. The other werewolves were waiting in wolf form when I trotted from the clearing. I threw them a wolfish grin and took off into the night. The sound of four other sets of paws hitting the ground followed.
We played games of tag and chase that we hadn’t been allowed to play since we were little. Mitch even climbed a low tree and taunted us to join him until his precarious footing left him in a pile of leaves at the base. Deer fled before us and we ran along their path, only to stray off at the scent of a rabbit or raccoon. We left the animals unharmed, content in our run to merely enjoy the chase as a pack the way our wolf ancestors had done for centuries.
I lost myself in the joy of having others at my back, hearing them shift course when I did, slow when I caught a scent, and speed up with the thrill of the hunt. It was as though we ran with one mind, each intent on enjoying the absolute most the forest had to offer.
The other werewolves eventually branched away on their own silent paths through the forest. I leaped over fallen logs and twisted my way through the trees to the other side of Brickwell. It wasn’t until I came up to the mansion that I realized my paws had taken me to Isley’s house.
I slowed to a stop in the shadow of the bushes that lined her walkway. The thought that I shouldn’t be there and she would be terrified if she saw me doubled when the front door opened.
James had driven her home from the Willards’ house after we returned from the battle. She had apparently missed too many phone calls from her mother, and both her mother and aunt had arrived home earlier that day worried sick about her.
Seeing her there at the top of the stairs illuminated by the light of the open doorway made my heart skip a beat. I couldn’t see her expression, but I could smell the uncertainty that came from her in waves.
She closed the door behind her and walked slowly down the steps. Moonlight brushed across her face and caught in her hair as if it missed being a part of her. I wondered if her mother had noticed a difference in the girl, but I doubted it. From what I had seen, humans were slow to suspect anything supernatural about those around them.
Isley paused a few steps from the bottom and hesitated. With her running shoes, the pink band holding back her hair, and the earbuds dangling across her shoulder, she looked ready to continue her running tradition. But I smelled fear along with the uncertainty.
“It’s stupid to be afraid of the dark,” she whispered. “I am a light elemental. I don’t need to be afraid.” She hesitated, then said, “I’m stronger than my fear.”
She took another step, then turned, ready to run back up to the front door.
I stepped from the shadows just far enough that she could see me and gave a quiet woof.
She paused with a hand on the handrail.
Slowly, with tension in every line of her body, Isley turned back around. Her green eyes found mine. A little furrow formed between her eyebrows.
“Zev?” she asked.
I nodded.
The fear in her gaze lessened slightly. “What are you doing here?”
If I had known the answer, I couldn’t have told her. As it was, I couldn’t explain why my paws had taken me to her door. She was terrified of wolves, we were from two different worlds, and I had no place in her life. Yet here I was. It didn’t make any sense.
I lowered my head and turned to pad away so she wouldn’t have to be afraid. I was nearly to the end of her driveway when she said, “Zev, wait.”
To my surprise, she jogged to catch up to me. Isley paused a few feet away, her eyes wide as if her own actions surprised her.
She crossed her arms self-consciously. “My mom was furious when I got home. They made it here right after the earthquake and were afraid I’d been hurt or something because I didn’t answer my phone. She grounded me.” She smiled as if that pleased her for some reason I didn’t understand. “I had to sneak out. But now that I’m out here, I’m not sure what to do.”
I sat and hoped I looked as unintimidating as was possible for a huge black and silver wolf to be.
Isley gestured to the darkness beyond the sidewalk. “I’ve run nearly every night of my life that I can remember,” she said. “But when the witches released my elemental side, it also gave me a fear of darkness that I never used to have.” She met my gaze. “But you weren’t afraid to face the devil and his hordes of corpses that came to kill us all.”
I wanted to point out that Clay had been a dark warlock, not the devil, but doubted there was much of a difference at that point.
Unaware of my thoughts, Isley continued with, “If you’re not afraid, maybe you can run with me and protect me from what’s out there?” She lowered her gaze. “There might not be anything, but I’d feel safer with you at my side.”
I rose to my feet and gave a little bark I hoped came across as enthusiastic instead of terrifying.
An answering smile spread across Isley’s face. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said.
She reached a hand toward the moon and gathered a little ball of light. It glowed in front of us when we started walking toward the street. When she sped up, I did the same.
Soon, the sound of her jogging footsteps was echoed by the cadence of my paws. Anyone glancing out into the night at that late hour would probably see a girl and her huge dog going for a run. In truth, it was a light elemental and the werewolf who was her protector, ready to defend her against anything we might meet in the darkness.
I wasn’t afraid. The night and the full moon soothed my dark soul. Out of everything good that came from the last few days, the one that meant the most to me was the glance of the girl at my side, reassuring herself that her guardian was still there.
The Wolfborne Saga
Book 4- Ghost Moon
By Cheree Alsop
Chapter One
The sound of claws on the bricks of the school hallway followed me around the corner. My bare feet slapped the tiles. It no longer mattered if I was quiet. She would find me no matter where I hid.
I reached the end of the hall and ducked into the open doorway of the dark classroom. The scent of formaldehyde and dry erase markers whispered past the acrid odor of the monster behind me. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I reached for the latch on the window next Professor Shipley’s desk. I pressed against the cool metal to slide it free, but froze.
A form moved outside. It was dark and the waning moon did little to light this side of the college grounds. I squinted, hoping to make out what had moved beyond the frosted glass. The shadowed forms separated. My breath caught in my throat. There were more of them, many more of them, and they were watching me.
Claws slid along the glass of the classroom door in an earsplitting shriek. I was trapped.
I turned slowly. The tile was cold beneath my
feet. The faint breath of air from the air conditioner brought with it the heavy, sour scent of my opponent. The desks of the students waited around me like silent sentries ready to bear witness to what was about to happen. I took a steeling breath and lifted my gaze.
She watched me with eyes that were black without irises. In a motion as graceful as water, she crouched and stretched out a long finger that ended in a deadly black claw. Her eyes didn’t leave my face when she dipped the claw into the dark red puddle at her feet. She brought the claw to her mouth. A smile stole across her lips, revealing her jagged teeth.
“Werewolf.”
The word rippled across the room between us with an electric charge. The triumph in her voice was unmistakable. The blood that trickled from the wound I held tightly across my stomach pattered to the floor.
Her smile widened.
“Mine.”
She took a step forward.
I willed my wolf form to take over.
“Zev.”
I glanced to my right to see someone who hadn’t been there before. The white outline gave the girl a surreal appearance. The whiteboard at the front of the classroom showed through her body as if she wasn’t quite there.
“Run,” I said. My voice came out as a growl. The wolf was close to the surface. It was my only chance.
The girl’s head tipped to one side and a smile lifted her lips as if we weren’t both about to be devoured by the creature.
“Wake up, silly,” she said in a light voice.
“Run!” I repeated.
How did she not understand what kind of danger we were in? Why didn’t she take off screaming into the night like the claws and jagged smile of the advancing woman made me want to do?
“Zev, wake up,” she said.
A hand touched my arm. I jolted upright and found myself sitting in one of the desks that had surrounded me; only this time, the lights were on and Professor Shipley stood where the ghost girl had been.
A glance revealed that the rest of the desks were empty. The clock on the wall showed that it was nearly four o’clock. Class had ended a half hour ago.
I rubbed my face. “I’m sorry, Professor,” I began.
“No need,” Professor Shipley replied. He leaned against a nearby desk and crossed his arms. The elbows of his black and blue stripped button-up shirt were nearly worn through. With his khakis, scuffed leather shoes, and the blue tie that was just off-color enough from his shirt to give me a headache, there was nothing to separate him as anything but just another of the teachers I had met in the last few days. Nothing about him mentioned a psychic wife or a recently survived battle with the undead. “Long night?”
I nodded. “The paranormal dead are proving a bit reluctant to return to their graves.”
The professor nodded. “I guessed as much. This is the second day you’ve fallen asleep in class.” A wry smile touched his lips. “Janica said you growled in your sleep.”
I opened my mouth to apologize again, but he lifted a hand.
“She said it was hot and asked me to give you her number when you woke up.”
Baffled, I asked, “How is growling hot?”
He shrugged. “Don’t ask me to interpret the mind of college girls. I only teach here.” He pointed toward the door. “I threw the number in that trash can. Feel free to dig it out if you want it.” He winked. “No pun intended.”
I sighed and sat back in my chair. “I’m not so sure I’m cut out for this college stuff.”
Professor Shipley gave me an understanding smile. “Give it some time, Zev. You’ve only been here a few days.”
“And I’m already going to give myself away if I’m not careful,” I pointed out.
He lifted a shoulder. “Hazard of being a werewolf, I suppose. That’s a hard secret to keep.”
I gave him a straight look. “I’m here because you put your neck out for me. Are you sure you want your job on the line for a werewolf?”
He chuckled and replied, “What, you think a little thing like the pretend nephew I vouched for turning out to be a form shifting paranormal creature is going to get me fired?” At my lack of an answering smile, he said, “Don’t worry about it. People see what they want to.” He gestured at the desk beside mine. “Apparently growling is hot, so you’ve got that going for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “She has a cat.”
“How do you know?”
“Hard to miss the smell,” I replied.
He rubbed his hands together as if warming to the conversation and said, “Alright, then, no cats. What else are you looking for in a date.”
I stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
He motioned vaguely to indicate the room. “There are plenty of eligible young ladies here, Zev. The population of Township Community College leans heavily on the female side. Those odds are in your favor.”
I gave a snort of disbelief. “Are you suggesting I date one of them?”
“Or a few,” he replied. “Test the waters. Enjoy yourself. You’ve been in a literal cave for most of your existence. You deserve to get out and try life as a human.” Before I could protest, he raised a hand and said, “I know you’re not human, but that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To try to fit in? Find your niche? Develop a purpose?”
I couldn’t come up with anything to say except, “Dating isn’t a purpose.”
He grinned. “That’s what people who don’t date say. Ask the younger crowd. Trust me. You’re closer to their age than mine. In fact, you are their age, you just need to act it. You should be out partying, falling in lust, making mistakes, making out.”
“Making out what?” I replied.
He laughed. “Exactly. Try it sometime.”
I shook my head and rose from my chair. “You’re not making any sense. I don’t fit in here, and what happens if I fall asleep and accidentally phase to wolf form during class?”
The professor didn’t appear nearly as concerned as I thought he should be. Instead, he said, “We’ll tell them it’s a trick.” He clapped his hands together and when he drew them apart, he held a deck of cards.
I watched him closely. “I didn’t know you knew magic.”
He slipped the cards from the box and fanned them out with one hand. “I don’t know real magic, but when I found out during our dating years that Kristen was a psychic, I started practicing in order to impress her.”
“Did it work?”
He shook his head. “No, but I can do this.”
He closed the cards into a stack again, put both hands together, and pressed. When he opened them again, the cards were gone.
“I’m impressed,” I said, crossing to him. “Where’d they go?”
He shrugged with a pleased expression.
The slight scent of the ink from the new package of cards caught my attention. Following the smell, I spotted them wedged beneath a book on the desk. I pulled them out and held them up.
Professor Shipley shook his head and took the cards from my hand. “Last time I do magic for a werewolf,” he muttered.
I fought back a smile. “So if I suddenly phase in the middle of one of your classes, you’re going to tell the class that you made a wolf appear with magic?”
“Exactly,” he replied. “And if you prance around like a tame little pet, it’ll really help.”
I bristled at the thought of being anyone’s pet.
The professor laughed. “Lighten up, Zev. It’s a joke.”
“Your tie’s a joke,” I muttered as my cheeks heated with embarrassment.
Professor Shipley stared at me for a moment, then burst out laughing again. “Kristen said it was the wrong color. I should have listened to her.” He slipped the tie over his head, then shot me a curious look. “I thought wolves were colorblind.”
I felt bad for my comment. Who was I to judge someone’s clothing choice? Everything I wore was borrowed from the Willards or a second-hand store. Even the shoes were a pair Mrs. Willard had picked up to help
me look like, ‘A hip young college student.’ James had thankfully saved her from selecting shoes made with purple velvet.
“It’s more like color-dampened,” I replied. At his interested look, I decided to humor him. “When I’m in wolf form, the colors fade and it’s the blacks, whites, and grays that stand out. It makes it easier to see in the dark that way.”
The glimpse of an overly-large human eye model on the professor’s desk reminded me that I was broaching his forte. It made me think of a question I had been pondering. “When I change to wolf form, do you think—”
He held up a hand, cutting me off. His gaze had slipped past my shoulder to something beyond.
“Zev, when you were dreaming, did you happen to be growling at a ghost?”
I shook my head. “It felt like the ghost and I were friends. We were both afraid of something else.”
A chill ran down my spine at the thought and my muscles tensed. I turned slowly.
“Is that the ghost or the something else?” Professor Shipley asked quietly.
My eyes landed on the ethereal form of the ghost from my dream. Her eyes looked puffy as though she had been crying. Her clothes, the way her hair was caught back in a wavy ponytail, and the small purse she carried looked current. She didn’t fit in with the paranormal dead we had been working so hard to return to their well-earned rest.
“C-can I help you?” Professor Shipley asked.
She didn’t appear to hear him. Instead, her gaze locked on me. “Do I know you?”
I gave a hesitant shake of my head. “I don’t think so. But you were in a dream of mine.”
Her lips lifted in a sad little half-smile and she said, “Is that a pickup line?”
I shook my head quickly. “No. I fell asleep during class and dreamed that we were here and something was chasing me. Something…terrible.”
“Is that why I’m here?” she asked.
The professor and I exchanged glances.
“You mean, you don’t know?” I replied. From my limited dealings with the paranormal dead, those I fought knew they were deceased and weren’t thrilled about it. Her question caught me off guard.
