by J. A. Saare
"Do you believe in fate, Emma?” he glanced over as he asked, studying me.
"How do you mean?” I didn't look away. I knew what he was sharing was important.
He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out forcefully and severing eye contact. He brought his hand up, rubbing his head as he shifted his feet from side to side. He turned in a semi circle and placed his hands on the railing, leaning forward. The muscles in his arms grew and expanded as he gripped the wooden rail.
"Caleb has a hard time with his beast. Hell, we all have at some point,” he explained, sighing into the damp darkness.
"But that's normal, right?” My heart lodged in my throat as I waited for him to answer.
"It's normal, but some of us have it worse than others."
I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. This was all new to me, and I was still flying blind. My emotions alone were difficult enough to ascertain. I couldn't even begin to decipher someone else's, not when that person was responsible for bringing the feelings to the surface.
"Listen, Caleb would never hurt you. You can't believe that shit from Brigitte,” Derek told me flatly, his amber colored irises flashing brilliantly in the dark.
"I don't."
If Caleb wanted to hurt me, he had plenty of opportunities already. When we were together, I felt safer than I ever had in my entire life. I trusted my instincts, and because of that, I trusted him.
"Can I ask you something, about them? About Caleb and Bridgette, I mean.” I glanced over at Derek and he nodded. “What's the story there?"
He laughed, sighing in empty humor, “No story. They went out a couple of times. She was into the big dog that came out on top every night."
"You mean in the Pit?” I remembered what Haven said—they missed you around here. I pushed the image of Caleb fighting from my mind.
"Yeah.” Derek rubbed his head frantically, betraying his portrayed calm. “Like I said, the beast comes out stronger in some of us, and she's the type of crazy bitch that enjoys that shit."
I heard sounds and voices coming from inside and glanced toward the door.
Derek moved, standing directly in front of me. His caramel eyes latched onto my own. “Our bodies are stronger and faster, but our hearts are just as fragile, remember that."
Derek jumped off the porch as the door swung wide. Billy stepped out first, smiling encouragingly. Caleb's familiar shape took up the door frame, the light from inside surrounding him in an orange tinted halo. He stepped onto the porch, pulling the door shut behind them. No one spoke for several agonizing seconds.
"So.” Billy ended the awkward silence. “Emma, I think you and Caleb need some quiet time to talk. I borrowed a truck from Haven so we can give you two a bit of privacy.” He waited a moment before asking, “Are you all right with that?"
I knew if I gave even the slightest pause the offer was off the table. I wanted a chance to talk to Caleb without people around, without distractions or interruptions.
I gave Billy a tentative smile. “I'd like that. Of course, you would have to ask Caleb."
"I already did, missy.” Billy smiled, walking past me to Derek. They fell in line side by side, walking away. The dark night wrapped around them, cloaking their forms until they were no longer visible.
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Chapter 7—Drive
I stepped off the porch, lifting my face to the sky. The moon was a bright crescent, stars surrounding it in a jeweled blanket on all sides, their shining lights like miniature diamonds.
I looked for and found the big dipper, rotating in a circle, seeking out other constellations. Stars were easy to see in the countryside, city and street lights didn't interfere with their brilliance. It was fascinating when I thought about it. A light burned for hundreds of years just to reach my eyes right here and now. And the light I witnessed was only a remembrance, as the actual source faded long ago.
I felt Caleb's gaze as he watched me. He had stepped off the porch as well, remaining intentionally quiet and observant.
"Are you okay?” I asked, keeping my head lifted, focusing on the North Star above.
He cleared his throat before answering quietly, “Yes."
"So what are we supposed to be driving?” I smiled over my shoulder, arching an eyebrow, attempting to take the edge off.
He relaxed and chuckled, motioning to the right. “It's over here."
I followed him to yet another Chevy truck. This one wasn't as large, just a cabin and truck bed. The dark paint glistened in the moonlight, the soft white glow flickering across the hood and illuminating the silver chrome.
"You boys sure do love your Chevy's,” I razzed playfully.
"Actually,” he clarified with a small smile of his own, “Haven loves his Chevy's. He just restored this one a few years ago."
He walked to the passenger side, unlocking the door and holding it open for me. I crawled inside, slipping along the slippery leather surface, settling in. Caleb closed the door and glided around the front of the truck. The seat belt was a vintage kind, without a shoulder strap. I placed it around my hips and clicked the latch together, pulling it snug.
Caleb climbed into the driver's side, his weight shifting the truck and rocking it. He placed the key in the ignition and a green glow filled the cabin. He flipped his wrist and the motor roared to life. The truck was much louder than the suburban; the sounds audible and surprisingly physical.
He pulled the gear shift next to the steering wheel down, popping the motor in gear. Then he drove around the building where Derek and Billy waited in the SUV. Red break lights disappeared as we approached from behind and drove from the bar.
"This is probably a silly question, but what about the headlights?” Derek didn't use them earlier and Caleb wasn't using them now.
He smiled and tapped a finger near his eye. “We have pretty good night vision. I can see as well without the lights as I did with them before."
I gazed out the window. The moon moved along with us, bright against the tips of the trees. A few mountains were visible in the distance and I watched as the moon basked them in white radiance, giving the illusion of movement on the horizon. I was unsure of what to say now that we were alone together so I sat quietly.
"It's not like the stories, well, it is, but not entirely.” Caleb's voice was hushed in the quiet hum of the truck. His eyes shifted over to me. “Werewolves are not just the result of a scratch or bite, although that is one way."
"Which are you?” I asked hesitantly, nervous but excited to learn more about him.
"My Dad passed it down to me, but if my Mom had the trait, she could have just as easily."
I watched as red break lights flickered in front of the windshield. The terrain was bumpy and I had to latch onto the dash. The road eventually evened out and I heard the steady crunch of gravel. Caleb turned the truck sharply as we passed through several low hanging trees, the branches striking the roof.
"So you.” I searched for the right words when my body was motionless. “Are a werewolf as soon as you're born?"
"Not exactly.” He glanced over at me and then back to the road. “The trait is there at birth or it isn't, unless both parents carry it, then it definitely passes down. But the change itself doesn't come on until you're older."
"How old were you?” I inquired softly.
"Nineteen, pretty late by normal standards."
"What's it like?” I traced the band on my finger with my thumb, twisting my hand so the moonlight flashed off the white gold. The reflection bounced off the window, bright against the glass.
"Confusing,” he sighed in response. “My Dad didn't tell me what was coming. He let me have a normal life until he sensed the wolf was close to breaking the surface."
"So you didn't know?” I murmured, momentarily stunned.
I tried to imagine how it would feel to wake up one day, discovering something lay dormant all those years inside you. Never knowing something so strong and powerful was there, hid
den beneath the surface all that time.
He shook his head. “I developed a really short temper, becoming angry and easily agitated. Then my Dad told me he wanted to take me to Haven's to talk about it. I couldn't wait for that, a night out with the old man, having our first beer together at the bar."
I watched his face as he relived the memory. His eyes glazed over as he traveled back in time. He spoke as if he was talking to himself, reaching back, delving into the past.
"Just as he'd known, the connection from the others brought it on. As soon as I walked in—and it hit me—I can't remember everything, but I remember enough."
"It must have been terrifying,” I said sympathetically. I shivered at the memory of two men beating a helpless third on the blood stained sand.
"That's the thing.” His voice thickened. “There was no fear, just an intense rage so powerful I couldn't resist. I was the first newly changed werewolf that ever stepped into that pit and won."
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly chilly despite the heavy bulk of Caleb's jacket. He was my age when he found out, surrounded by those people yelling and screaming, encouraging him to tear someone else apart.
"The next few years, I practically lived there, working for Haven in the Pit at night, learning to control it. Then one night, I met Sam. He'd seen me in action and asked if I was looking for a change, offering me a job on his crew. I took him up on the offer and haven't been back since."
"And did you?” I asked nervously, licking my bottom lip, “Learn to control it?"
"Yes, but when I'm back there.” He hesitated, “It's not so easy."
"What about your family?” I asked and when he didn't answer immediately, I wondered if he would.
"Mom came over shortly after I did, when Dad had to tell her the truth. It was rocky at first. She resented him keeping something so significant from her all those years."
I knew he wasn't telling me everything but I wasn't asking. It was obviously a sensitive subject and I knew all about intruding on personal family history.
"They live nearby actually.” His voice lightened and he smiled. “Maybe I can take you sometime."
The thought made me happier than I knew it should but I responded with equal enthusiasm, “I'd like that."
The discussion about family made me curious about my own. I still didn't know anything about my Father, except his name and his state of un-living. Caleb had deftly dodged each of my questions. But perhaps now he would relent and tell me something.
"How well do you know my Father?"
Caleb paused, giving me a wary look. “I know of him through Sam."
"What is he like?” I stared at my fingers, picking at non-existent nothings on the surface.
Caleb answered in one word, “Powerful."
"Can't you tell me anything?” I pleaded, resorting to petty begging for information—proving I wasn't above it.
He shook his head and chuckled at my dejected expression. “It was the one condition he was clear on."
"What about vampires, then. Can you tell me about them?"
"Well.” He contemplated the question for a moment. “Most of the myths are true—the liquid diet, aversion to the sun, one hell of a long life."
"Immortality, right,” I asked, smiling.
"For the most part.” He nodded, chuckling.
"And why haven't I seen them?” I'd seen werewolves, the first of two things I was told actually existed. So where was the second piece of the puzzle?
"Werewolves and vampires don't usually mingle in the same circles, although it does happen, especially if you drive further south. Why do you ask?” he inquired casually but kept a close watch, waiting for an explanation.
I shrugged. “Because it's who I'm related to and I don't know what to expect."
It was the truth. I wanted to be prepared. No more walking into situations blind as a bat and likely to end up lunch meat—or worse.
"I've only met a few of them,” he admitted sheepishly. “They don't affect us like they do humans. But I've seen how it can be. They are mesmerizing to them. I wish I could tell you more. When we meet Sam, he can tell you everything. He's been dealing with them much longer."
Timid, but determined to find out, I asked, “How old are you Caleb?"
His jaw set, eyes on me shifting away. “Too old for you."
"I'm serious,” I prodded, smiling questioningly. He didn't look much older than me, maybe a few years at most.
He kept his eyes on the road, answering gruffly, “I'll be thirty in January."
"What a cradle robber!” I proclaimed dramatically, unable to contain my laughter.
"See, too old for you.” I saw him fighting back a grin.
I shook my head. “My Grandma always said I was an old soul."
"Indeed,” he agreed, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth.
I studied Caleb as he drove. His eyes focused ahead, seeing clearly what I could not. He was so strong, so proud, and yet somehow so sad. Even if it meant I couldn't go back, I didn't regret what happened today—if only because it allowed our paths to intersect. Maybe it was fate, just as Derek said.
"A part of me can't believe this is happening.” I exhaled with a shallow laugh. “I keep thinking any moment I'll wake up."
I leaned over and glanced out the glass. The moon was overhead now, shining above us. So much had changed in the course of one day, it was difficult to grasp.
"Hopefully this will do. I don't want to pinch you."
He reached across the seat, gently squeezing my leg.
I lifted his hand off my lap and into the air, pressing our palms together. The outline of my hand was completely eclipsed by his. I lifted my fingers, accidentally tickling his skin. He alternated between watching me and the road.
His face softened as I met his eyes, and he smiled.
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Chapter 8—Bonding
When I woke my head was nestled in between the unforgiving leather seat and the chilled window. The moon continued to shine overhead, illuminating the sky in white. I wasn't sure how much time passed or when I'd drifted off.
I moved my head gingerly, leaning to the left and right to work out the kinks. My neck protested the movement and I winced at the agonizingly tight muscles.
I glanced at the driver's seat—Caleb was gone.
"Did you tell her?"
Derek's voice was so soft I barely made it out. I strained to listen. The speaking was coming from the back of the truck, along with the sounds of scuffling feet.
"No,” Caleb's voice grumbled back.
"Shit man, why not?"
I heard more shuffling and then Caleb, angry this time. “It's too much too fast."
"But she feels it too, man. It's obvious—"
"Boys,” Billy interrupted them. “Talk about this later. There ain't no reason to keep her sleeping like that in the truck when there's a perfectly good bed inside."
Derek mumbled something and I heard footsteps approaching. Caleb appeared at the door, peering through the window.
His eyes grew wide when he saw me fully awake and smiling.
"How long have you been awake?"
I feigned a yawn and stretched my arms, achy muscles jarring to life. “I just woke up."
He frowned and extended his hand to help me out of the truck. I thanked him and stepped down, looking behind us at the cabin.
It was exactly like a framed picture you can buy during our local flea markets. The dark sky provided the perfect opulent backdrop behind the tall cabin. A sturdy porch wrapped all the way around the lower level, intricately carved spindles below matching the ones along the steps. The moon was resplendent, touching the wood and giving it a gray hue, highlighting the ground. A large pond shimmered in back, sparkling in the moonlight, the breeze creating small ripples along the surface.
"It's lovely.” I marveled at the sight.
Billy murmured an agreement. He walked up the stairs and pushed
open the door. Light flooded over the porch and down the stairs.
"I'll show you around,” Caleb said, taking my arm to guide me onto the porch.
A stairway was the first thing that greeted us. It was directly across from the door, rails curved outward at the sides and along the bottom. The brown banisters were held aloft by dark twisting pieces of black metal.
"This way.” Caleb stepped away, walking to the left.
In the center of the room was a massive pool table, covered in bright red felt. A zebra pattern rug was directly beneath the elaborately clawed legs, the black and white stripes meshing amazingly well with the wooden walls and flooring. A couple of tables with tall stools sat in the corners, and a rack stocked with cues was attached to the wall. There was a jukebox in the front of the room, exactly like the one I'd seen at the Pit.
"Now, for the kitchen.” Caleb walked past the table, toward the back, pulling aside a sliding door.
I followed him through and he flipped a switch, flooding the space in light. The ceramic tile was an intricate splash of black and white intermingled. Black cabinets and a white marble counter ran the length of the wall, stopping above a sink and dishwasher.
I noticed something strange about the wall and stepped forward. Caleb looked in the direction of my stare.
"Ah.” He smiled, stepping over and unhinging the wood to reveal a large window. He motioned to the shutters and said, “They're all over the house."
He walked across the kitchen, past the door we'd entered from and two large silver refrigerators. He slid open another door that led into a different room.
Situated onto the left wall was a large plasma screen television. A rounded tan couch facing the screen took up the rest of the space, complete with a large glass table covered with various remote controls arranged in order from large to small.
"Bathroom is there.” Caleb pointed to a door along the back wall. “Now for upstairs."
The rooms formed a perfect circle and we stood again at the foot of the staircase. He motioned for me to go first and I trudged up, counting twenty stairs total. When we reached the top he pointed out Billy's room, then Derek's, and the other bathroom.
