“I honestly thought it was just someone jealous of your grandfather’s business success, Evie. Logging, sawmill, milk cow espionage. He is a very successful man. Do you think I had a clue about wolves or cats or their feud? I was trying to pay off my student loans, not get myself killed. Now look.” He waved his arms. “I’m a prisoner in a basement for my own safety, locked in the holding cell for naughty wolves. It smells like hell in here.”
Evie had watched his eyes and face as he’d spoken. She was sure no spy interrogator, but she could tell a liar when she saw one. This guy, Dale, didn’t seem to be lying. He was scared for his life.
“You don’t believe me, do you?” he said.
“I didn’t say a word.”
Dale moved across the dark room and sat back in a folding chair. “If you’d still like to kill me,’ he said, “Here, I’ll make it easy. I won’t even fight back.”
“I’m not gonna hurt you, you moron,” Evie said. She stepped into the room and sat on the other folding chair. “So, my Papa put you down here to hide you?”
“Yeah, he did. For a wolf, he’s quite a gentleman.”
“Ha-ha.”
“Seriously, after your … uncles, or whatever, roughed me up, your grandfather sat me down for a talk. He said if I went home again—which I can’t because my car’s in Cold Springs—someone would surely be waiting for me.”
“Wait,” Evie said. “Who roughed you up?”
“Two big Ludlow guys. Lester and Paul. They grabbed me right from my Mom’s driveway, tossed me in a truck, and brought me here. They said Joe requested my company for the evening.”
“That sucks,” Evie said, picturing her two burly uncles against this guy. “Sorry you’ve had such a bad night.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said. “But thanks.”
“So … how much are your student loans?”
Dale laughed lightly. “Really?”
“Hey I’m tryin’ here.”
“Almost eighty grand if you count the credit cards.”
“Dang, boy,” Evie breathed. “Maybe you should just let them all kill you.”
“Yeah, maybe I should.” He stood and paced the small room for a moment. He seemed more energetic again after his death wish while sitting in the chair. “But Joe said he’d help me make a new start somewhere, if I wanted. Me and my mom. Supposedly your uncles have taken her somewhere safe, too.”
“That sounds like my grandfather,” Evie said.
“I don’t know where he has in mind, but anywhere has to be better than the basement, right?”
“Sure. And it beats getting used for fertilizer.”
Dale laughed ironically. “Thanks for that image. Very nice.”
“You got it, snitch.”
“If only I hadn’t seen you, Evie. You don’t know how much I wish I missed that meeting. How could I not notice a teenaged girl with white hair?”
“What about it?” she asked defensively.
“That was the big thing the cats—the older one that pays me, Mr. Lyle—was obsessed with. After I’d been watching for a while, he said if any young Ludlow showed signs of white hair, there’d be a bonus for my prompt report. I’ve seen most of the Ludlows here and there and I’ve paid close attention. Nothing for a long time. But then I saw you this morning … a pretty young girl with white streaks in her hair. I couldn’t help but notice. So I made the call as soon as I left.”
“Did you at least get your bonus?” Evie asked.
Dale shook his head, laughing. “No, not yet. After speaking with Joe, I assume their idea of a bonus would’ve been to dump me in the river.”
“Well,” Evie said as she stood from the chair, “I hope you learned your lesson. My Papa is a kind man, but look what happens to people that try going against him and his family.”
“Yeah,” Dale said. “Next time someone offers me a job, I’ll remember to check if they’re in the Wild Kingdom mafia.”
Evie did not smile. She was getting quite warm again. “You know, you’re pretty snide for a guy hiding in a basement.”
“Sorry. I’m just mad at myself, okay?”
“Well, Dale, I don’t completely wanna kill you anymore,” Evie said. “I actually feel sorry for you.”
Dale sat down again, running his hands over his head nervously. Apparently his mood took him from high to low every few minutes.
“Of course,” Evie went on, “that would change if you ever tried to tell our secret. I’ve had a lot of mood swings lately, and trust me, they’re not pretty.”
“Believe me,” he said, looking up fast. “I’d rather go on The View and say I was abducted by UFO’s than have Joe Ludlow after me. Your uncles gave me a little preview of the wolves. Said your grandfather was even worse. Yeah, well, they were enough to convince me. Even before Joe had his talk with me tonight, I was ready to cooperate.”
“When did this all happen?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know … a few hours ago. I don’t have my phone so I’ve lost track of time.”
“Listen,” Evie said. “I know it wasn’t fun, but I’d say my uncles saved your life tonight. I saw what the other Ludlows did to the cats that came here to kill me after your little report. I’ll bet they headed straight for you after they left here. And let me tell you, they were not happy.”
Dale stared at Evie. “They wanted to kill you? Seriously?”
“Papa implied it, yes.”
“Why? Why you? Isn’t this all … a little hard to believe?”
“Don’t you worry about it. You know too much about us as it is.”
“Haven’t you asked your grandfather?”
“I said, don’t you worry about my business!”
Dale stood up again. “I’m sorry, Evie. I swear I had no idea they wanted to kill you. That’s the truth.”
“I’d say you have an idea now, don’t you?” she said and turned away. “I’m gonna go get a little sleep before the sun comes up. Enjoy your stay in our smelly room. It suits you just fine.”
“I’m sorry,” Dale said again, quite pathetically.
Evie closed the door and bolted it without another word. He sounded sincere, and in a way she did feel bad for him. But more so she felt the urge to bite his head off for the trouble he’d caused; the ratio was about 60/40 in favor of decapitation. Leaving him before the odds worsened was the greatest kindness she felt capable of.
-13-
Evie woke at first light. She was sprawled on the couch, still wearing her robe. From upstairs she could hear the quiet sound of the shower running, and for a while she lay still, watching through the glass doors as the sky slowly lightened. The early sun touched the tops of the distant trees, showing their color sharply clear over the pastures below still in shadows. Considering she’d slept only a few hours, she felt remarkably fresh and clearheaded.
When her grandparents came down the stairs she sat up.
“Have a good run?” Papa Joe asked her from beside the coffee pot.
“I did,” Evie answered lazily. “Thank you, Papa. And I’m sor—”
“Leave it,” he said. “Where’d you run to?”
“All over. Out to that oasis with the spring water. Up and down the trails. And by the way, I really liked that girl, Emmy. We had so much fun.”
“That’s Doctor Wilson’s daughter,” he said. “Their family has been with the pack since the beginning. David and Emmy are both good kids.”
Evie leaned against the back of the couch, smiling as she recalled the night.
“Eli didn’t bring you by the big hotel, did he?” her grandfather asked after some time.
“Should he … not have?”
“Now and then is all right. But don’t push it.”
“Okay.” Evie smirked. “So like … once a week is fine?”
“If you really must,” he said with thin a grin. “But as I said, don’t push it. What starts as fun can easily turn into fear for the paying guests.”
“Before you get
preoccupied with fun,” her grandmother put in then, “don’t forget that you’ve got a landscaping project to tackle today.” She said this referring to the destroyed burning bush from the prior evening.
Evie tensed, thinking fast. “What’s with the basement boy?” she asked to dodge the topic.
Joseph Snow eyed his granddaughter, and after a moment let the other topic go. “Did you smell him or hear him?”
“I smelled him. He never made a peep.”
“I underestimated your nose,” he said. “Your senses are developing marvelously. I smell him too. I trust that means you left him with a pulse.”
“Barely, Papa.”
“Oh he’s not such a bad kid,” her grandfather told her when he’d settled on the opposite couch with his coffee.
“He’s not too swift.”
“On the contrary, he’s actually quite bright in many ways. What he lacks is practical sense, and, of course, the knowledge of shape-shifters.”
“Must we start the day with this topic?” Evelyn said, sitting with her own coffee. “I believe I’ve been more than tolerant.”
“He’ll be gone soon, my love,” Joe said to her, and then turned back to Evie. “Today will be a busy one for me. Hopefully tomorrow I can begin focusing solely on you and your training. It’s been a rocky start.”
“What will you do with him?”
“Move him away. Give him a fresh start far from the cats who know him. I owe him that much at least, using him as I have.”
Evie furrowed her brow. “You knew he was spying?”
“Of course.”
“And you kept him around anyway?”
“Absolutely.”
“Shouldn’t he have gotten at least fired for spying?”
“Your grandfather sometimes enjoys his position too greatly,” Evelyn said. “He’s long outlived most of the cats of his generation. These younger ones are fools, believing my husband is vulnerable to their silly tactics. He makes sport of them whenever he can.”
“Not sport,” Joe defended. “I merely keep my senses as sharp as possible; the gullible are easy practice. And I prefer to keep my eye on those keeping an eye on me.”
“You mean you played him,” Evie said.
“I suppose I did.”
She gave him a mock glare. “Not nice, Papa.”
“I never intended harm. The entire deal turned out much differently than I expected. I was torn about letting him see you yesterday; I should have gone with my gut and cancelled the meeting. But then, I had hoped after working for me for so long, he might keep his mouth shut.”
“They would have found out about me anyway, right?”
“Eventually.”
“He told me they paid him,” she said. “Is it really all about money?”
“Yes,” her grandfather answered sullenly, “it is about money, but it goes well beyond it. More so the cats that paid him envy the land, the control, the security I have here. Keep in mind, as you saw, these are not African cats that live gladly in large prides. Instinct drives these differently. Most often they function as loners, mating pairs or small family groups, as with the two brothers from last night. The original rivalry between us is no different than that of typical wolf packs versus typical cougars. Both are predators requiring much space and much prey, and safe grounds on which to raise their young. Add to that the competitive striving of human nature, and you end up with a very bitter rivalry. The North Pack controls the safest lands in the northeast. So, most of them hate us with a passion, chiefly me.”
“To kill me is about the rivalry, not a personal attack?”
“It’s both,” Joe said, his face hardening with a hint of anger. “Most predators will kill the young of their rivals, if the opportunity arises; an ugly result of the difficulties of survival.”
“Lovely,” Evie murmured.
“In fairness it’s not just cats that kill in that manner. And there have been some cats over the years that have chosen simply to avoid the wolves and live in peace; some have abandoned the cat altogether. Since both our kinds require secrecy from the humans, even the worst of the cats would not risk exposure just to hurt us; not for a million square miles. There is no love lost between us, but there is the common goal of secrecy, especially in the last century, with the population explosion and the availability of such powerful rifles. I expected their curiosity and their move later in the night. What surprised me was the sudden brashness of a daylight breach.”
“It almost seems silly that it’s all for land,” Evie remarked. “If they’re half human, they must have some human brains.”
“Nothing about this is silly,” her grandfather said quietly. “Land is life.”
“Can’t they find other land?”
“It’s not that simple. And even if it was, would you simply walk away from this land?”
“No,” Evie said after a moment’s thought. “Not willingly.”
Her grandfather nodded solemnly. “Some cats do give themselves up for wanderers and nomads. Others refuse to leave the familiar lands of their ancestors; it’s too bitter a pill. Snows have controlled The North Woods unchecked for generations. To the south, in the mountains and southern foothills, the cats have had good lands as well, but every year the population grows, pushing north with houses, tourists, and hunters. As their lands have decreased, their tempers have understandably flared. My guess is that when they caught wind of a young Snow of the old family coloring—” He stopped short. “Do you know about the old family name?” he asked in a more cheerful tone.
“Erica told me.”
“I figured she might. Did she tell you the old spelling?”
Evie shook her head.
“When the English language was quite new, our Norse relatives were called Snowe with an ‘E’. The Snowe men.”
“Joe …” urged his wife.
“Yes, that’s beside the point. As I was saying … The situation is thus: in a young Snow our rivals see a hopeless continuation of the trend. To the south the humans increase, and to the north the Snows endure. The vice squeezes them tighter by the year. More than rivalry, the base instinct of survival drives them to fight, though it is a fight they cannot win.”
Evie said nothing for a long time. A part of her felt pity for the cats. As with the wolves, or any wild thing, they too must have a love for wild places and the freedom of open spaces—such as the trails she’d run carelessly on just hours before. In her grandfather’s human tone she detected the same pity that she was feeling.
“Now you know why we live so far away,” Evie’s mother said, entering the room and the conversation from the foot of the stairway.
“Morning, Mom,” Evie said, then turned back to her grandfather. “Does that mean there aren’t wolves or cats anywhere else?”
“There are plenty,” he said. “In some cases more. But where you’ve been they are very rare. The human population is too great, the hunting too poor. Your mother picked a good spot.”
Evie nodded, seeing the puzzle pieces of her life falling into place.
“Out west is another story,” her grandfather went on. “There, shifters far outnumber us in the east. Some are natives and some are from the old world, like us. And as far as your Bigfoot joke, in the American west there are such men who take the shape of enormous bears. Though rare, they are very much real, and quite intimidating to humans.”
For the first time since the serious conversation had begun Evie smiled. “You’ve seen them?”
“I have.”
“Are they scary?”
“Well, I won’t say I was completely comfortable around them. They are very, very big, and tremendously strong.”
“That’s so funny. Bigfoot is actually a bear-shifter …”
“I didn’t say that.” Joseph Snow smiled mostly with his eyes. “I said such shifters exist. They may account for some Bigfoot sightings. Then again, there may very well be something more. The American west is no small place, my dear. Ludlow has th
e warm feel of home to us, do doubt. But to visit the west is truly magical for any wolf; it must be seen in person to be appreciated. The cats are spread much thinner, and a wolf can trot all day and night without once scenting a human. And the scenery—”
“I wanna go there,” Evie said, as for a second she could picture herself running full speed across a plane with no visible end.
“Soon enough you’ll get your chance,” he smiled.
Before Evie could ask when, her grandmother was speaking.
“Your grandfather is highly esteemed with the pack leaders of the west,” Evelyn said. “It’s from them that he hopes for help in relocating the boy in the basement.”
“Speak of the devil,” Joe said, his face turning serious again. “He must be more than miserable by now. He hasn’t had food or water since his arrival.”
“Don’t look at me,” Evelyn said with a quick shaking of her head. “He’s your pet project.”
“I’ll bring him something,” Evie volunteered as she stood from the couch. “I was just about to get something for myself anyway.”
“Just let him out and bring him upstairs,” her grandfather told her. “We’re not running a five-star hotel here.”
“And have him here with us?” Evie joked on her way to the fridge. “I don’t feel that bad for him.”
From the fridge she took out a bag of roast beef, rolled several slices on a plate—eating one herself for each one rolled for him—and walked to the basement doorway. “Papa,” she said hovering in the doorway, “why do y’all even have that room in the basement?”
Joseph Snow laughed softly. “A few of your uncles, especially Lester, were quite the wild ones as young men. The naughty room spared the rest of the house and farm.”
“Not to mention our sanity,” Evelyn added.
“Oh,” Evie breathed as she started down the stairs; a wide smirk stretched her mouth. She was imagining how greatly Uncle Lester must have enjoyed tossing the snitch into his old holding pen.
“You up in there?” Evie called through the naughty room door.
Silver-White (The Great North Woods Pack #1) Page 13
