by Jayme Morse
Samara laughed. “I’m not sure that’s possible with Jason, to be honest. I don’t think you should tell him in person, though. It’s probably better to do it over the phone or through Facebook or something.”
“Really?” Emma asked. Samara could just picture her freckled nose wrinkling at the idea. “Isn’t that what they usually say what you’re not supposed to do?”
Samara paused. “Well, yeah . . . usually. But this is Jason. I’m afraid if you break up with him in person, he might snap.”
“Snap?” Emma asked. “What do you mean?”
Samara sighed, wishing that her best friend knew the truth about Jason. “I’m just saying that I think you need to be careful. I’ve heard . . . rumors,” she lied. “Jason can have a real temper. I wouldn’t want to see you piss him off and get hurt in the process.”
“Okay, I’ll send him a text message then. Do you think I should mention Troy? I mean, that way, if things don’t work out . . . maybe he’ll get jealous and want to be with me again.”
“No,” Samara replied quickly. “You don’t want him to know that you broke up because of someone else. It will just make him angrier, and I wouldn’t put it past him to come after Troy if things do work out. If he ever brings up Troy on his own, you’ll want to make it seem like you didn’t even meet Troy until after you and Jason already broke up.”
“I hate lying,” Emma said, sighing. “But I guess you’re probably right. I mean, I don’t want to make Jason feel emasculated or anything like that. I just don’t want to be with him anymore. At least not right now.” She paused. “And the good news is that you and I can double date now!”
“Yeah, we can,” Samara said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She didn’t know what Luke and Troy could possibly have in common. How did the werewolves even get along with the normal teenage boys at school? Their world was so much bigger . . . so much more complicated . . . than the stuff that typical guys were interested in, like football and video games.
“Are you guys planning to go to the Homecoming dance, too?” Emma asked hopefully.
“Umm, we haven’t talked about it,” Samara replied. “I’ll talk to him about it and let you know.”
“Oh, come on, Sam,” Emma squealed. “Don’t make it a joint decision! Put on the pants in your relationship, and tell him that you’re going to the dance whether he likes it or not. He should just suck it up and take you.”
Before Samara could answer, Luke’s voice filled her head. It would be an honor to take you to the Homecoming dance.
Really? Samara asked him, smiling. She couldn’t help but feel giddy about the idea of going to the dance with Luke. No guy had ever asked her to go to a dance before. She’d always gone solo and sat in the corner as she watched Emma and her friends dance with whatever guys they’d brought, who they’d usually ended up ditching later on. It always made Samara mad because they didn’t seem appreciative of the fact that they had dates in the first place.
It would make me so happy, Luke replied.
Samara smiled and said into the phone, “Luke and I will be there.”
“Yay!” Emma chirped excitedly. “I can’t wait!”
“Me either,” Samara replied. For once, she wasn’t lying.
*
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Luke asked that night when Samara swung the front door open. They’d agreed earlier that they would talk about Emma’s party in person instead of through mind-speak. Samara was beginning to think that communicating mentally was like talking on the phone; it was best reserved for necessary times, while important topics should be discussed in person, face-to-face.
“Let’s go outside,” Samara replied, slipping out the front door. She led Luke to the bench in the front yard and sat down. “At Emma’s party last night, do you know why I ran away?”
Luke nodded. “Yes, I do. It was because of Ashley Everest.”
Samara stared at him. “How did you know? Your back was turned.”
“I can usually sense what you’re feeling,” Luke explained. “When you’re happy . . . I just know. I could tell that you were jealous and angry and hurt over it.”
“Why didn’t you come after me then?” Samara asked. Now that she knew that Luke had known the whole time that she was mad at him for it, she felt even more annoyed. He should have done something – anything – to let her know that she shouldn’t be so pissed off. Instead, he just stayed in the same room as Ashley until Samara had called for him.
“Because I knew that you were angry. To be honest, I didn’t want to get my ass kicked.” Luke took a deep breath. “You didn’t have to get jealous, you know. I only have eyes for you.”
Samara sighed. “I know that. It’s just . . . you’re my mate. I can’t not get jealous when another girl touches you that way. And it’s not like you pulled away either,” she pointed out, remembering what had happened.
Luke reached for her hand and took it in both of his. “I’m sorry, Samara. I really am. It’s just that I don’t think it’s physically possible for me to have feelings for anyone else. So, I didn’t think it would bother you.”
“I understand,” Samara replied. “I was never mad at you either, you know. It just hurt.”
Luke brushed a lock of chocolate brown hair out of her face and stared into her eyes. “Don’t be hurt. I would never hurt you. Now, come on. We need to go.”
Samara raised an eyebrow. “Where are we going?”
“To Colby’s house,” Luke answered. “He wants you to meet his parents.”
Chapter 9
****
When they got to Colby’s house, it was all lit up with gold Christmas lights, and there was a huge wreath that was decorated with tiny Christmas ornaments and a huge red bow hanging from the door. It reminded Samara of what the White House would probably look like at Christmastime.
Samara didn’t realize that werewolves even celebrated Christmas, let alone got this into it. Most of the human families she knew didn’t even start decorating their houses for Christmas until at least after Thanksgiving. October seemed a little bit early.
The front door to the Jackson’s house swung open before Luke even had a chance to knock. “Why, hello, Lucas!”
“Hi, Mrs. Jackson,” Luke said cheerfully before stepping into the door way.
When Samara stepped inside, Mrs. Jackson, a tall woman with long, blonde curly hair, stared her down head to toe. “My, my, my . . . you’re just as pretty as Colby described. You wouldn’t believe how excited I am to meet you!”
Samara felt her cheeks reddening. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Jackson.”
“Please call me Linda!” Colby’s mom said, waving her hand in the air. She took Samara’s coat and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “After all, we’re family now, even if it’s not by blood!”
Samara smiled. Colby’s mom had the same peppermint-pineapple scent as the rest of the wolves in her pack. Even though Samara had only been acquainted with Linda Jackson for a few minutes, something about her was warm and inviting. Samara realized that it was probably just that Linda reminded her of Colby; she even had the same twinkling turquoise blue eyes.
As Samara followed Linda into the living room, where all of the guys from the pack were lounging on couches or on the floor with Philly cheesesteak sandwiches in hand, she noticed a tall guy standing in the corner. He wasn’t just tall. He was probably about six foot seven or eight – by far the tallest guy Samara had ever seen.
The man turned around and looked her in the face, his nearly-black eyes meeting hers. “You must be Samara McKinley,” he said quietly, taking a step toward her.
Samara nodded.
“I’m Colby’s father. You may call me Darren.” When he was standing closer to her, face-to-face, he stared at her body, as though he were trying to measure her up. Samara didn’t move a muscle. Something about Colby’s father really unnerved her. She also felt like she knew him from somewhere, but she couldn’t put her finger on where.
His raven-colored hair and darker skin tone were polar opposite of Colby’s own fair skin and light features.
Colby seemed to sense Samara’s unease. He came to stand in front of Samara, forming a protective wall between her and his father. “My parents were both really excited to meet you,” he explained to her. “Not only are you the great Joe McKinley’s granddaughter, but you’re also the first female Alpha in history. Both of those things are pretty exciting.”
Samara glanced at Colby’s dad and forced a smile. She had a feeling that, to him, she was nothing more than a specimen that he wanted to examine under a microscope or celebrity that he wanted to stalk. It was like someone meeting Jennifer Anniston and, though they were able to admit that she was a beautiful woman, they’d surely try their hardest to find something wrong – a strand of hair that was out of place or a piece of spinach caught between her teeth.
Samara didn’t trust Darren Jackson at all. She didn’t even want to be in the same room as him. “Well, it was nice meeting you both, but,” Samara said, turning to Steve, “we should really get going. We have a lesson to do.”
Steve nodded and, shoving the last bit of the Philly cheesesteak in his mouth, hopped up from the couch.
“Bye, Samara,” Linda said. “It was so nice to meet you.”
“You, too, Mrs. Jackson,” Samara replied before looking at Luke. I’ll see you later, she told him before leading Steve out the door.
Once they were outside, Steve walked over to his car, a black Volkswagen Jetta. He unlocked the passenger’s side door. “Get in,” he told her before going around to the other side of the car.
“Where are we going?” Samara asked him. When he didn’t answer and got into the car, Samara climbed in after him. “Well?”
Steve glanced over at her, running a hand over his dark braided hair. “We’re going to watch another pack so that I can show you how to figure out who the weakest link is.”
Samara felt a knot twist in her stomach. Something about watching another pack didn’t seem like a good idea. It almost felt like they were looking for trouble. “Is this the only way you can teach me?”
“There are probably other ways, but this will be the most effective,” Steve said, cranking up the radio. A song by Jay-Z came on, vibrating through the speakers.
Samara leaned back against the cold leathery seat and took a deep breath. She wondered what pack they were going to watch. It probably wasn’t the Vyka, but she hoped that it wasn’t the Shomecossee either, since they wanted her dead now, too.
Steve stopped the car on Old Mill Road. Samara frowned. This was the same road she had been on the night of her first date with Luke – the night Colby had bitten her, changing her destiny for good.
“What pack are we going to watch?” Samara finally asked when she was sure that Steve wasn’t planning on telling her on his own.
“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said. When Samara shot him a glare for his secretiveness, he explained, “I don’t want to tell you in case you already know any of them. If you’ve already been acquainted, you might be able to figure out who the weakest link is.”
Samara sighed. “Can you at least tell me who they are afterwards?” Samara felt like she needed to know. There could be a dozen different packs against her at that moment and she would have no idea who they are. She didn’t know very many werewolves besides Rocco and the wolves on the Vyka pack, and she didn’t even know all of them that well. Not enough to know who the weakest or the most confident was. “How do you even know they’re here right now?” Samara asked.
“I know they always hang out here. And I can smell them. Can’t you?” Steve swung his car door open and climbed out. Samara opened her own door and began following him along the gravely road.
“Will they know we’re here?” she whispered.
Steve shook his head. “Probably not. Our scent isn’t as strong because we’re in human form.”
Samara forced herself to calm down. The first thing the pack had taught her was that she needed to be a confident wolf. Well, right now, she needed to be a confident Alpha and a good student. She needed to learn, but she also needed to prove to Steve that she was worthy of him teaching her.
As they walked through the woods, Steve bent down behind a large boulder. “Come here. Come look,” he whispered, nodding his chin forward.
Samara knelt down on the ground beside him and looked in the direction that he was motioning towards. There were six werewolves sitting in a circle around a campfire. Samara didn’t recognize any of them, but she could smell their lavender-citrus scent from a good one hundred feet away. “Why do they smell so strong?” she whispered to Steve.
“Because there are so many of them,” Steve said, pressing his pointer finger to his lips to signal her to be quiet. “Study them really hard, and we’ll go over everything important when we get back to the car.”
Samara studied the wolves. One of the wolves, who appeared to be the pack leader, sat in the center of the circle. The wolf, which had a reddish tint to its fur (that Samara didn’t think was caused by a reflection from the fire), sat taller than the other wolves. He was definitely the most confident wolf.
There were two gray wolves on each side of him. Samara thought that the gray wolves looked like they were fairly confident; both of them sat tall. If she had to guess, she would assume that these two wolves were the Alpha’s cronies, and that they felt higher and mightier than the three darker gray wolves who sat across from them on the other side of the fire with slumped shoulders and heads down.
After a few minutes, Steve got up and walked back to the car. Samara followed close behind, being careful to step lightly so she wouldn’t crunch too much on the leaves that were scattered in patches over the ground.
When they were back in the car, Steve asked, “So, which wolf . . . or wolves . . . were the weakest?”
“The dark gray ones,” Samara said.
“And what makes you come to this conclusion?”
“They didn’t sit as tall . . . their shoulders were slumped, and they kept their heads down . . . almost like they were afraid of the Alpha.”
“Very good. You’re learning quickly,” Steve said as he pulled off the street and into the darkness of the night.
*
On Monday morning, Emma was waiting in front of Samara’s locker, talking on her cell phone. When Samara got closer, she heard her say low voice, “Of course my dress will be sexy. You better look sexy, too.” Emma paused before saying, “Okay, babe, get to class. I’ll see you tonight.”
Samara tried not to roll her eyes. She couldn’t name how many guys she’d heard Emma call ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ and ‘sweetie’ in the past year. There were far too many to count.
“Troy?” Samara asked, as she opened her locker.
“Yeah,” Emma replied, a smile on her face. “He’s so incredibly sweet.”
Samara forced a smile back. Every guy Emma fell for was incredibly sweet until she grew bored of him or got to know him better. From what Samara could remember, Emma’s relationship with Jason had lasted longer than anyone and that had been, what, a few weeks at the most? “So, I guess breaking up with Jason went well, then?” Samara asked.
“Shh,” Emma hissed, putting a hand over Samara’s mouth. “No one can know I broke up with him because of Troy.” Emma glanced around the hallway to make sure that no one was listening in on their conversation. “I don’t know how breaking up with him went, actually. We were texting back and forth, and I sent him the text telling him how I felt and that it was over, but he never responded to me. That’s not like him.”
“Do you think he read it?” Samara asked, hating to think about what would happen if Jason saw Emma with Troy or heard about them without even knowing that she had broken up with him. It was probably a bad idea to break up with him over a text message. It could’ve made things a lot worse, though at least he would have had enough time to cool off if it did upset him.
“I think he did. I th
ink he’s just mad at me,” Emma said, shrugging. “Oh well. It’s whatever. I mean, he never even called me when he got back from the Catskills. I don’t think he cares about me that much.” Samara opened her mouth to say something, but Emma went on. “Anyway, guess what we’re doing tonight?”
Samara rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the fact that Emma was making plans for her again. “What are we doing tonight?”
“We’re going dress shopping,” Emma replied, jumping up and down, clapping her hands like a four year-old. “The Homecoming dance is in two Saturdays from now.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Samara said, realizing how soon the dance was. She normally didn’t pay attention to Homecoming. It was usually just another excuse for the kids at school to get drunk. Samara sometimes went to Homecoming to see how cool the floats looked, but she usually went home right after, while her friends went to the dance and then to the keg parties to get wasted afterwards. “Okay, we can go dress shopping today if you want. Is four o’clock okay?”
Emma nodded. “That’s perfect because I’m going out with Troy around eight.” She linked her arm through Samara’s as they began walking to class. “I can’t wait for you to meet him. He’s so amazing.”
As they were about to turn the corner, they nearly collided with Colby, who was wearing brown corduroy pants and a green checkered shirt today. If the two clothing items had been paired in separate outfits, they might not actually be so bad for once, but together, it was just a disaster. When Colby saw them, he beamed at Samara. “Hey, Sam!”
“Hi, Colbs,” Samara replied, giving him a smile before turning into her homeroom classroom. Emma followed close behind, a confused look on her face. “Colbs? Sam? Since when are you and Colby Jack best buds?”
“Don’t call him that,” Samara snapped. “He’s really nice. And, besides, he’s Luke’s best friend. I’m not going to be a bitch to him and make things awkward.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, but I’m still going to call him Colby Jack. I can’t help it. The name just sticks.”
