by Harris, Noah
The Wizard Wolf
WindWard Book One
Noah Harris
Contents
1. Keller
2. Johnny
3. Keller
4. Johnny
5. Keller
6. Johnny
7. Keller
8. Johnny
9. Keller
10. Johnny
11. Keller
12. Johnny
Epilogue
About the Author
Published by Books Unite People LLC, 2019.
Copyright © 2019 by Noah Harris
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. All resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Editing by: Eliza Hunter & Jo Bird.
Proofreading by: Sandra Stires.
Beta Reading by: Stefanie Molina.
Chapter 1
Keller
Kell clutched the steaming cup of coffee closer to him. Other than a light jacket and a hat on his head, the drink was his only source of warmth on the cool day. Winter was fading into spring but it wasn’t disappearing fast enough for him. The gray clouds overhead were a remnant of the long weeks of winter, and it seemed that snow was just as likely to fall from them as rain.
The coffee was black and bitter, and a shudder ran through him as he drank, relishing its warmth. It would still be a few more weeks before the overcast sky gave way to blue and warmer weather arrived. Despite the chilly air, the sidewalks were a little more packed than usual. Late March had warmed enough to draw people out into the open, rather than huddling in their homes to avoid the worst of the weather.
Summer would soon draw closer and people from the city would flood the streets, on vacation or simply visiting. Boston wasn’t a beach resort haven, but plenty of people wanted to see the ocean and walk the streets of one of the oldest cities in America all the same. Keller looked forward to the warmer season, not just because it meant no longer having to bundle up to go outside, but so he could take in the sight of the crowds of people once again.
The chilled air and sharp wind made it impossible for him to sit down and watch the crowds pass him by. Kell liked to choose a place, somewhere just off the path of the people but close enough for him to see them, and watch them for hours. As a boy, he found he liked to listen in on snippets of conversations, catch the expressions on people’s faces, and even look over their clothing, trying to guess the story behind their day or even their entire lives.
Living on an army base as a boy had given him plenty of practice at looking beyond the masks people wore in public. He learned to catch the barest flicker of emotion, the downward twitch of a lip, the subtle crease in someone’s brow, or the way someone’s eyes might linger just a moment too long on something. When his days of being contained on a base had been exchanged for living in the foster care system, he discovered his insights helped him survive.
Some homes he’d been placed in had been quiet and easy to live in, if only temporarily. Others, however, had required him to be quick to notice a storm coming and to get out of its path. While he learned that getting too attached to any one family or the other kids was an invitation for disappointment and loss, he excelled in learning other people’s stories, habits, and personalities.
At the age of twenty-two, Kell considered himself a master people watcher, instinctively knowing things about others at a glance. He’d learned some of the best places in the city, near his apartment, to sit down and watch the crowds go by. Sometimes he sat near cafés or restaurants, and as summer came, he would place himself near bars at night. People never knew how much of themselves they gave away to an outside observer as they carried on with their lives. Keller prided himself on being able to see those moments and paint a mental picture of the person’s life.
A couple, holding hands and pressed close to one another, brushed by Keller, jarring him from his thoughts. Instinctively, he tucked the cup of coffee closer to him to keep it steady. A muffled apology came from the pair as they tried to make their way through the crowd, but Keller said nothing. It was rare for him to allow himself to actually speak to the people on the street, feeling it broke the protective bubble that simply observing gave him.
The woman from the couple turned as she walked, her eyes lingering on Kell for a moment. Kell’s heart gave a heavy thump in his chest as she watched him. It wasn’t the first time someone noticed him in the crowd and paid close attention to him, even briefly. At those times, Kell couldn’t help but wonder if the person was seeing something about him, perceiving a piece of him, as he could with others.
The people who noticed him before he noticed them were the ones he always avoided talking to. The occasional moment he broke from his bubble to speak to someone in a crowd was only ever with unsuspecting strangers. While part of him always craved knowing what those perceptive and curious strangers saw in him, he’d never been able to bring himself to speak to them. The idea that they saw something was intriguing but the reality of someone truly seeing him was unnerving.
His heartbeat slowed as the woman turned her attention away, distracted by something the man said. Keller could see the wisps of condensation drifting from the scarf around his face as the couple walked and wondered what he’d said to pull her attention away so quickly. It could have been a warning of where they were going, but Kell watched as she smiled and dismissed the thought. Whatever it was, it caused the woman to lean closer toward the man, and Keller felt a lingering stab of loneliness mingling with his happiness at her contentment.
“She could just think you’re a creep,” he muttered to himself with a smile.
It was an old, private joke. There’d been plenty of times since he’d begun the ‘game’ that he’d had to face down someone who was insulted by his attention. As a child, people simply took his attention as something endearing or amusing. As an adult, however, there were those who noticed his attention and were unnerved by it. While some simply found his attention ‘creepy,’ Keller suspected others were self-conscious. It was as if they sensed he was seeing something about them they didn’t want others to see, and they either confronted him or got out of his sight as quickly as possible.
With the oddly-weighted sensation of loneliness still in his chest, he turned back the way he’d been heading. He hesitated before continuing to walk, having caught the flash of a familiar face. Kell had first spotted the man when he’d stepped out of his apartment building that afternoon, and he’d seen him a few more times on his walk. There was nothing about the man’s face or clothes that made him stand out, but there was an odd look in his eyes. Kell had yet to be close enough to the stranger to make out what the odd look could be but it caused a knot in his stomach when he saw it.
“You’re being paranoid, just walk,” Kell muttered to himself as he forced himself to keep moving.
Despite his assurances to himself, Keller began to walk with a hurried pace. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt like he was being watched or followed, and having been stalked by someone in the past, he didn’t want to relive the experience. His stalker had turned out to be a furious ex-boyfriend, though Kell was sure that wasn’t the case this time. Edward had gone from following Keller everywhere to breaking into his home. It was the escalation which had seen Edward locked up for breaking and entering, and the possession of a knife had guaranteed he’d be locked away for some time. No, Keller was quite sure he wasn’t being followed by hi
s ex again, but the thought wasn’t comforting, as he would at least know how to handle that.
He wanted to tell himself he was being paranoid but part of his mind swore he could feel the stranger somewhere behind him, those strange eyes locked on Keller’s back.
Keller was thankful he’d caught sight of the man again in a neighborhood he knew so well. His time wandering around the area near his apartment, people watching, gave him a reliable mental map of the streets and alleys. Thinking ahead, he plotted out the path he’d take, hoping it would give him an escape route.
Kell made his way through the thickest part of the crowd near a group of popular restaurants and outlet stores. As the crowd swallowed him up in the press of other bodies, Keller swerved to the nearby alley between a pizzeria and a shoe store. There were enough people milling about for him to squeeze through, hopefully unnoticed, into the shadowy recess between buildings.
The noise of the crowd echoed down the alley, growing weaker as he hurried to turn a corner and take the next path. The sound of the streets and people dulled behind the buildings, and Keller let out a sigh of relief when he glanced behind to see no one there.
Before he could finish telling himself he’d been silly, a scuffing sound drew his attention. A man was walking toward him from his right, his gaze locked on Keller. A shiver ran down Kell’s spine and he turned down another alley, his step hesitating as he spotted another man walking down his intended path. Kell heard another sound from behind him and instinct told him it was his original tail.
A glance over his shoulder confirmed it as his new stalker rounded the corner, eyes fixed on Keller. For one brief moment, Kell thought he was seeing a trio of brothers bear down on him. Looking at them, however, he realized they didn’t look alike at all. One was blond and fair-skinned, another was dark-haired with light eyes, and the third reminded Kell of Edward, whose mother was Puerto Rican. It was the look in their eyes which made them seem so similar, the same strange look that had unnerved Kell.
Kell let out a puff of air, mind racing as he tried to decide what to do. “Can I help you boys?”
The original stalker stepped forward. “Keller Thorne.”
“Right, so you know my name, good on you. That doesn’t tell me what you want,” Kell replied, sensing the other two drawing close.
The man tilted his head, a lock of his dark hair falling across his forehead. It seemed to emphasize the odd light in his eyes and, up close, Kell realized what had so unnerved him about the man. It was the same look he’d seen in some of the other foster kids’ faces while hopping between homes. The expression of someone who’d been bent, battered, and beaten by the world, and decided enough was enough. If the world was going to be hard and bitter, then they would be even worse. The odd glint of the man’s gaze was one of bitter anger.
Keller glanced between the three men as they closed in, cutting off his exits completely. They knew him, had been following him, and Keller realized they’d probably known as much about the area as he did. The three had been waiting for the perfect moment to get him alone where there were no witnesses. He suspected they’d intentionally forced him into the alley where he’d be isolated and they could hem him in. They were intelligent, clever, and they had outsmarted him easily.
“We’re here for you,” the blond to his right said evenly.
Kell snorted, unnerved by their stoic faces and overly bright eyes. “Look, the three of you are cute enough, but I’ve got to tell you, this is the worst way to try to pick me up. How about you guys give me your numbers and we talk about a dinner date or something.”
He sensed the attack before the dark-skinned man leapt forward. Instinct took over and Kell dropped to the alley floor with a startled yelp. Something bright and silvery flashed in the air overhead, and Keller felt something cleave through his jacket and shirt. Telling himself to keep moving, Keller dug into the ground with his feet, barreling forward in the space between two of the men’s legs. A bright flash of light lit the alley and pain flared around his calf as he dove free from the circle they’d trapped him in.
Kell hit the ground chest first, scrambling to shove his arms under him and get to his feet. As he stood, his right leg buckled slightly beneath him in a new wash of pain. Looking down, he realized the right cuff of his jeans was smoldering, the seam gone completely and the skin beneath raw and bright red.
Keller looked up at the three in disbelief. “You tried to set me on fire?”
It had been the blond man from the looks of it and all three were advancing on him. The man held what looked like the sort of thing Keller would expect a suburban dad to attach to the end of his hose to fertilize and de-weed the grass. The difference being, the handled tub wasn’t made of plastic, but metal. It glinted from the overhead light, and Keller could see a fluid, gas from the smell of the alley, drip in a single drop onto the alley floor.
Keller took a step back, hissing when his arm bumped into the corner of one of the buildings. Instinct brought his hand up to touch the spot, which stung. His fingers came away red and sticky with his own blood, and he realized he’d been cut. Kell could see a knife, a silvery glint reflecting off its deadly blade, in the hand of the dark-skinned man who’d started the attack.
“I guess I should be a little quicker on my feet,” Kell muttered.
His mouth was working of its own accord as he frantically tried to figure out a way to escape. The hard look in their eyes had grown worse and they didn’t seem to be in any hurry to finish him off. Kell didn’t blame them—he didn’t exactly make a formidable opponent, relying more on wits and agility to get out of dangerous situations than combat skills or strength.
When one of them moved, Kell threw himself to the side, aiming for the mouth of the nearby alley. His shoulder hit the ground and the ripe smell of trash and stale beer filled his nostrils as he slammed down. Gritting his teeth, he shoved his feet against the ground, backpedaling away from them as they turned to pursue him.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he demanded.
Their silence wasn’t unexpected and Kell could feel the acidic fear bubbling up in his throat even as he spat angry words. His eyes fell on the dismal sight of the dropped coffee cup he’d lost in his previous attempt to get away from their attack. The anger he’d spat at them burst with new life in his chest, making him forget all about his fear for a moment. He’d been minding his own business, hurting no one as he tried to squeeze out whatever pleasure he could get from the day. That the day had culminated with him in a dirty alley, bleeding from his arm, and one of his few pairs of pants singed beyond usefulness, made him utterly furious.
His foot lashed out, driving toward the knee of the dark-haired man who’d been his original stalker. Kell hadn’t aimed quite high enough, hitting the man’s shin instead but earning a snarl of pain from the man all the same. Kell didn’t care. His life in the foster system had been marked by his passive quietness, broken only by furious moments of undiluted emotion. It was normally anger, unbroken and pure as it took hold of him, bringing him to lash out in ways no one could predict.
The dark-haired man certainly hadn’t predicted the blow and Kell was happy to have the momentary upper hand. The fits of anger and lashing out might have plagued his younger years, but he held tight to them as he fought for his life.
A sharp crack from above broke the unnerving silence of the alley. Kell looked up in time to see something huge and heavy plummeting toward them. His fearful mind reacted and he darted out of the way. The three men weren’t as lucky, having reacted too late as the large air conditioning unit crashed onto the alley floor, exploding into shrapnel on impact. A shard cut his arm, but the worst of it caught the three men as Kell scrambled to safety.
Kell knew an opportunity when he saw one, and he kept his feet moving toward the mouth of the alley. He left the sounds of an outraged cry and a moan of pain behind him as he ran full speed into the relative safety of the street. Ignoring the odd looks from people who’d heard the co
mmotion, Kell continued running away from the alley.
Kell could only think of one safe place, and he ran toward it as fast as his legs could carry him.
* * *
Pounding on the door, Kell muttered under his breath as he waited for his friend to answer. His own apartment was next door, only a few feet from where he stood. But Kell didn’t think it was safe there anymore. If the men who’d attacked him knew him well enough to be able to trick him, they definitely had to know which apartment was his.
Kell let out a sigh of relief when the door swung open, revealing a faintly annoyed looking Carson. His friend was half-dressed, and his gray eyes took in the sight of the wounded and frenzied Keller with surprise. Kell didn’t wait for Carson to speak, pushing past his friend into the apartment and closing the door before Carson could protest.
“Kell, what the hell?” Carson began, looking Keller up and down.
Kell shook his head, trying to catch his breath as he walked out of the entryway of Carson’s apartment. He was always amazed, and a little jealous, whenever he stopped by Carson’s apartment. Though they lived in the same rundown apartment building, Carson was good at concealing the dilapidated condition. His apartment was always neat and tidy, and it was tastefully decorated. It was a far cry from the mess Kell’s apartment usually was, furnished only with what he could scrounge together.
“Looks like you got that raise,” Kell noted, poking a small Grecian statue on a nearby table.
“Business is booming,” Carson said, following close.
“Must be nice,” Kell replied.
