Revelations (Brighton Wolves #1)

by Samantha Hoffman

  Chapter Nineteen

  When the three of them walked into the diner they’d been at before, the older waitress looked startled to see them. Her penciled eyebrows disappeared under her bangs, and Gwen couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the woman chuckle a bit. When they took their seats at a booth in the far back corner of the diner, the waitress waved away one of the younger girls who had started to come over. They exchanged a few brief words, and the younger girl took off, looking oddly relieved.

  Just how crazy is this guy?

  The waitress set three menus down on their table and took a pad of paper out of her apron. She clicked her pen, and when Gwen looked up at her, she finally noticed the name on her tag:  Trish. “Is this gonna be together or separate?” she asked, eyeing Brent.

  “Together,” Gabe said, surprising her again.

  “Okay. What can I get you guys to drink?”

  “Iced tea with lemon,” Brent said, not taking his eyes off the menu in his hands.

  “Lemonade,” Gwen said quietly, looking away from Trish’s prying eyes. She didn’t like making eye contact with strangers and usually stared down at her feet or hands unless she was angry.

  “Classic or pink?” she asked.

  “Pink,” Gwen mumbled, feeling herself sink a little into the booth beside Gabe.

  “I’ll take a coke,” he said, giving her an I-told-you-so smile.

  Trish smiled and shook her head, tucking her pad back into her apron. “I’ll be right back with those.”

  Gwen looked at the menu, thankful that it was easy to read compared to some places they’d eaten. The three of them were silent as they studied the menus, but Gwen was fidgeting anxiously in the seat next to Gabe. She wanted to dive right in and start interrogating him, but her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t had much to eat so far today. The scent of food in the diner was enough to make her mouth water, and she inhaled deeply, enjoying all of the different smells.

  She had her choices narrowed down to three when Trish came back with their drinks. After setting them down on the table and tossing a handful of straws down, she took out her pad again, clicked her pen, and said, “Are you guys ready or do you need a few minutes still?”

  Gwen panicked, frantically trying to decide what she wanted while the others began to order. When Trish got around to her, she picked the first one that came to mind. As Trish took back their menus and went to put in their order, Gwen began to regret her choice and wished she had picked something else instead. She tried not to let it bother her, but her indecisiveness had gotten the best of her once again. It always seemed to rear its ugly head during outings with her family and friends and ruin her meals.

  “Alright, lets get down to business,” Gabe said, his voice low as he checked to make sure nobody was close enough to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  Brent took out a notepad and a pen, ready to take notes of his own. “Start from the beginning,” he said. “Tell me what brought you to my doorstep, and spare no details.”

  Gabe looked to Gwen, who frowned. “What? You want me to tell it?”

  He nodded. “You’ve experienced things I haven’t, so only you can tell him how you felt and what you thought. You’ll do fine.”

  She sighed. “Fine.” She looked at Brent and found him staring at her like he was a ravenous dog and she were a nice juicy ham bone.

  “Wait!” Brent said, silencing her before she had even started. “I need to make sure my notes are accurate. What’s the date and time?”

  She glanced around for a clock and found an analog one hanging above the counter near the kitchen. She drew a complete blank. She studied the hands on the clock’s face, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what time it said. She knew how clocks worked and she would have no trouble explaining the concept to someone else, but when she looked at them herself, she always found her ability to correctly read the time hampered by her dyslexia. When she was younger, it had surprised her all the different ways it would affect her life apart from reading and writing.

  With an annoyed huff, she dug her cell phone out of her pocket and hit the button on the top, lighting up the screen and flashing the date and time. She showed it to him, and he copied it down on his notepad, down to the second. “Okay, now you can begin.”

  Brent’s attention was focused solely on her, and Gwen hesitated, unsure of how to start her miserable story. She was about to share something tragic and heartbreaking with a complete stranger—one that would be taking notes so he could most likely write another book. How would she feel about others reading about her life and thinking it was nothing more than the feverish delusions of a nut job? The thought of people laughing at Ginny’s fate had her stomach twisting painfully.

  She took a deep breath and jumped headfirst into their story, hoping that she wouldn’t falter. As she spoke, Brent kept his eyes trained on her while his pen moved rapidly across the page, making a scribbled mess that made Gwen’s eyes hurt just glancing at it. She couldn’t believe he would be able to read that later, but that wasn’t her concern. Right now, she had to focus on talking so they could finally get their long awaited answers.

  As the story unfolded, Gabe interjected a couple of times to add some minor detail or reaction that she forgot. As she neared the end, she noticed that Brent’s feverish writing had slowed to a crawl, and with a shock she realized that he was completely immersed in their story. He was soaking up every word, and seeing him react like that lifted a massive weight off her shoulders. Somebody believed they weren’t crazy, and even though there was a good chance he was as crazy as them, it made her feel better knowing they weren’t alone in their hellish nightmare.

  When she was finally done, she and Gabe sat back in the booth and waited while Brent began to digest all that he had just learned. While they all sat in pondering silence, Trish came back with their food. If she noticed the awkward and thoughtful silence at the table, she didn’t mention it. She just set their food down, asked them if they needed anything else, and left with only a single backwards glance. Gabe wasted no time digging into his food, and for once, Gwen was pleasantly surprised with what she’d ordered.

  Once Trish was out of earshot, Brent sighed, “Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. I never dreamed I would get an opportunity like this again.”

  “Again?” Gabe asked around a mouthful of his hot roast beef sandwich smothered in juice.

  Brent frowned. “You two really didn’t read my book. That’s very disappointing.” When they went to apologize, he waved his hand, dismissing them. “Don’t worry about it. Not many people did. I only sold eighty-nine copies.”

  “That’s…” Gabe frowned, trying to think of a way to finish that thought.

  “Soul-crushing,” Brent offered. “Yes, it is. Anyhow, in my book, I included information I gathered from an interview I conducted. A man approached me anonymously and told me he had information for me. To this day, I don’t know how he found out about my research, but I’m glad he did. He told me he’d been living as a werewolf for many years and wanted to tell someone what it was like. I thought I was the luckiest writer in the world, but here I am now with a second chance to experience one of the greatest happenings of my life.”

  Gwen and Gabe exchanged quick glances.

  “So, who all have you spoken to about this?”

  “Just you,” Gabe said, taking a sip of his coke. “We don’t know who we can trust right now, even in our own family. We’re not sure but we think our dad and uncle might be involved somehow.”

  “In your cousin’s death?”

  “No!” Gwen said hurriedly. “Just in this secret world. We think they might be werewolves and haven’t told us. We know they’ve been keeping secrets from us, and we think that might be one of them, but we’re not sure.”

  “What leads you to believe they could be werewolves? Anything in particular tip you off?”

  Gwen thought back, thinking of anything that was out of the ordinary. He
r eyes widened as she remembered. “When our cousin was still missing, I found a sweater in the woods that I thought belonged to her. I brought it home and our uncle sniffed it and broke down, saying that it was hers. I thought it was weird, but at the time we were too focused on finding Ginny to think about any odd behavior. And our dad and uncle both ran off into the woods after she disappeared again. They didn’t even seem fazed when we told them she had taken off on a naked midnight run.”

  Brent nodded. “Yes, it seems likely they’re both werewolves. They probably knew what was going on with your cousin and tried the best they could to help her. Since they failed, they probably see no reason why they should include their clueless children in their nightmare, never knowing you’re trapped in your own right now.”

  “What can you tell us about werewolves? We wanna know everything you’ve ever found out, even if you think it isn’t real or important.”

  He jotted something down on the paper in front of him, took a sip of his soup, and set his pen down. “Alright. To start, I must say I’m surprised your cousin survived the transformation. Most people bitten by werewolves die not long after. They’re unable to handle the physical strain of transforming. However, I theorized that someone with the curse running in their bloodline would stand a much better chance of surviving. If she survived the transformation, she was probably the offspring of one. That should convince you of your uncle’s curse.”

  “If it runs in the bloodline, does that mean Gwen and I are doomed to become werewolves?”

  “It’s likely,” Brent said. “If you’re bitten, you’d no doubt survive the transformation as your cousin did before you. Mind you, I’ve never been able to personally confirm any of this information. I just know what I’ve found out through years of strenuous research and my interview. To be honest, I’ve been written off as crazy for so long I started to wonder if people were right. But now, sitting here with the two of you, it makes me feel like a new man, like my life has meaning again. Thank you.”

  Gwen felt her cheeks begin to burn at his thanks. It wasn’t every day someone told her she had given their life meaning again.

  “So what should we do about this mysterious Roman guy? All we know about him right now is his name, that he murdered Ginny, and that according to her anonymous contact, he’s after us as well. We don’t even know what he looks like or where he is now.”

  “If I were you…I’d flee. Do as your cousin told you to. She knew best what he was capable of, and if she wanted you guys gone, it was for a good reason I’m sure. If he was after her, he’ll most likely be after you as well,” he said, giving Gwen a very pointed look.

  Gabe’s hands clenched and his nostrils flared. “What would he want with Ginny or Gwen?”

  “Well, I assume there aren’t very many female werewolves. I’ve only ever heard tales of male ones. If that’s the case, well…every pack needs mates for breeding. Or else the pack dies out.”

  “Breeding?!” Gwen gasped, her eyes going wide. Immediately her mind flashed to an image of Ginny being wrestled to the ground, naked and afraid, shivering while she waited for something she couldn’t stop. She wondered if her cousin had endured something so awful during her time missing, and she choked back a sob. She hadn’t said anything, but if it had happened, Ginny probably wouldn’t have for fear of sounding crazy.

  Wouldn’t the doctors have checked for something like that at the hospital?

  “So, what are the signs that someone is turning into a werewolf?” Gabe asked, steering the conversation in a completely different direction.

  Brent grabbed a second notebook and began flipping through it, his eyes rapidly scanning the pages. He stopped and trailed his finger down the page, tapping and nodding towards the bottom. “According to my anonymous source, increased aggression is the first and most notable sign. He said that as you get closer to your first change, you become incredibly hostile and aggressive; you become someone you wouldn’t even recognize.

  “Another sign he said was bulking up. You won’t end up like Arnold Schwarzenegger, but you definitely won’t see any scrawny werewolves. Your muscles will get more toned and noticeable, on account of your body becoming stronger and able to do things it couldn’t before. Also, you’ll slowly begin to develop an aversion to silver objects. I’m sure there are other things, but those are ones that you can easily look for in a person. Next time you see your dad or uncle, toss them something silver and see if they drop it like a hot potato or if they hang on to it and look at you like you’re crazy,” Brent said.

  Gabe looked at Gwen, his eyebrows raised. “Huh. I hadn’t even thought of doing something like that. It’s not a bad idea. We could definitely try something like that. Actions speak louder than words and all that. Do you have anything silver?” he asked. “I don’t think I do.”

  “I don’t think so,” Gwen said. “But I know Ginny has a bracelet from her grandma that was silver. We might be able to find it when we go home. She kept a jewelry box on her bookshelf. That might work.” She looked from Gabe to Brent, surprised to find him intently focused on them and their interaction. “Is there anything else about werewolves you think we should know?”

  “Just the obvious,” he said, his lips twisting down into a frown. “They’re dangerous. Ruthless. The man that I interviewed years ago told me that he’d been attacked by a wolf while out on a hike. He’d been savaged, left with many serious injuries, ones that never truly healed. And not to mention the psychological ones. He was turned into a monster against his will.” He sighed, flipping through the rest of his notes. “I think that’s about all I can tell you. Why don’t you kids give me a number where I can reach you and I’ll call you if I find anything else.”

  Gabe wrote out their numbers on a napkin along with their names, and he handed it over, tucking Brent’s number in his pocket in exchange.

  Brent wiped his face on a clean napkin and got to his feet. “Thanks for lunch, and for talking to me. The two of you have given me hope that I’m not crazy. It’s a refreshing feeling after being seen as a joke for so long. I hope things end well for you two, but I doubt it.”

  He left Gwen and Gabe sitting at the table, staring at his backside. She almost called out to him, begging him not to leave, but she couldn’t think of anything else to ask him. She was sure she’d come up with a million more questions the second he was out of sight, but try as hard as she might, she couldn’t think of any when it was most important.

  “Well, we can always call him if we have anymore questions,” Gabe said, sounding a little disappointed. “I’m glad we sat down with him; I just wish he had sounded a little more hopeful about our futures. It’s not like we’re dead.”

  “Yet,” Gwen said.

  He frowned. “Try not to be so pessimistic,” he said. “For right now, we’re alive, and we’re gonna fight back.” He finished the rest of his food and chugged his coke, fishing his wallet out of his jeans. “We’ve got some experimenting to do when we get home, remember? We’ll find out if Ginny was right or if she was insane.” He slapped a handful of bills on the table and got to his feet.

  Gwen followed him to the door, her legs working overtime to keep up with him. Now that they’d gotten a chance to ask their questions, he was on a mission. “You and I both know she wasn’t crazy,” Gwen said, jogging over to the car. “Werewolves are real, Ginny was attacked by one, and now they’re out to get us, too. Clinging to the way things used to be isn’t gonna help us any.”

  Gwen went around to the other side of the car and stopped with her hand on the handle. Out of the corner of her eyes, she’d picked up slight movement that drew her attention. Hidden in the darkness of a shady corner of the parking lot, a man was lounging at a picnic table. He was staring intently at the two of them, not even bothering to try and hide his attention. When she met his eyes, she was startled to see his lips pull back in a smile that reminded her of a wild animal about to go in for the kill.

  Deep down in her gut, she knew that h
e was the mystery man they were looking for—Roman. She knew it as surely as if he’d just walked over and introduce himself as the man that had killed Ginny. She could see it in the way that he stared at her with obvious interest, the way he carried himself, and the way he refused to look away as she challenged him. She felt her hand leave the door handle, her feet carrying her across the parking lot towards the picnic table.

  Gabe’s hand was on her shoulder in an instant, his fingertips digging into her collarbone hard enough to leave bruises. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes narrowed in anger. “Are you out of your damned mind? What would possess you to go over there?”

  She didn’t look back at him; she couldn’t take her eyes off of Roman. “That’s him, Gabe! You know it is. He’s right there, right in front of us. We can’t just do nothing.”

  His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and Gwen was worried he might snap. “He’s a dangerous man that murdered Ginny—that’s exactly what we’re going to do!” He dug his fingers in, firmly rooting her to the spot. “We’re going to get back in the car and go home and think about everything we learned today, not go looking for trouble. I’m sure it’ll find us before too long.” When she refused to move, he forced her to turn and look at him. “Gwen, please.”

  Her blood was boiling and her heart was pounding in her ears like the beat of a drum. She wanted to confront him, wanted to hear him admit to taking Ginny from them, but the pleading tone of Gabe’s voice broke through her anger. She took her eyes off of Roman and focused on Gabe. When she finally relaxed, Gabe let go of her, leading her back over to the car.

  He opened the door for her, shielding her from Roman’s view. She took a deep breath, putting him behind her as she slid into the car. Unwillingly, her eyes flitted up to the rear view mirror, where she could just barely make out Roman’s form. He was no longer at the picnic table, and he was slinking away from the parking lot, managing to avoid being seen by anyone else in the area. She watched his retreating form, digging her hands into the seat to keep from throwing the door open and running after him.

  She knew it wasn’t smart and that it could get her killed, but she wanted her answers. The only thing that stopped her wasn’t Gabe’s pleas, but instead the thought of how disappointed Ginny would be in her if Gwen threw her life away. Especially after how much Ginny had sacrificed to ensure their safety. She took several deep breaths while Gabe started the car and raced out of the parking lot, trying to get her away from Roman and her rash decisions. She glanced at the mirror one more time and was unsurprised to find that Roman had faded away from sight.

  Roman was right there, Gwen thought. She stared out the window as the trees raced by, biting her lip to keep from screaming in frustration. He was within my grasp. I had him right where I wanted him—a public place where he couldn’t have tried anything. I should have confronted him about Ginny!

  She glanced over at Gabe out of the corner of her eyes to find he was as tense as she was. His hands clenched the steering wheel and his gaze was fixed on the road, and she was tempted to ask him his thoughts. He was probably thinking the same things as her, wondering if he had made a mistake in leaving the diner in such a hurry. Gabe wasn’t normally the indecisive one, but it looked like he was just as capable of it as she was.

  She glanced out the window again, her mind drifting off into a haze of self-loathing. Before she was completely gone, a shape caught her eye, and she sat up straighter, her heart pounding in her chest. “Gabe—!”

  Gabe slammed on the brakes and the car jerked to a stop, causing Gwen to fly forward. Gabe’s arm automatically came out to stop her, but the seat belt did the trick. It brought her to a violent stop that left her wheezing, with her neck and shoulders aching already. She could only imagine how sore she would be in the morning…if she lived that long.