by Sarah Beth
“I was a senior in high school that year, but I was taking college credits at the campus. My classmate and I had heard about it before we ever got there that morning. It had been all over social media.” She paused a moment, her eyes getting lost in the flames of the fire. “By the time we got there, there must have been a couple dozen people around the police tape. The body had already been covered in a sheet, so no one really saw anything.”
Wesley watched her take her bottom lip between her teeth and chew it. Her anxiety filling the room so abruptly that he had to hold back the growl that wanted to escape. His wolf-half wasn’t happy that she was feeling so anxious. But there wasn’t anything for them to kill here. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if it would help to cage the wolf inside.
As if sensing his inner struggle, she turned to him and looked into his eyes. After a moment she sighed, running a hand down her face, “I saw that girl’s spirit that day.” She made a frustrated sound, so close to one of his wolf’s growls. “I had no idea, I thought it was a trick of the light or something.” A short laugh, her body slumping back into the couch cushions, “Or I just kept telling myself that until I believed it.”
They were silent for a moment, until Alex’s soft voice broke it, “Did she speak to you?”
Her head shook before she looked over at Alex across from her, “No, she just stood there — or floated, I guess.” Her eyebrows came together as if she remembered something, “But her form wasn’t nearly as clear as the ones now. She just sort of looked...foggy, out of focus.”
Alex hummed, rubbing a hand under his chin, “The murder in Seattle occurred almost 6 months ago. If you saw a spirit then –.”
His voice broke off, but Wesley filled in what they must have all been thinking. “Then the binding spell was already starting to wear off.”
It was Tori who shook her head and spoke, “Is that even possible? I’ve never heard of a binding spell wearing off slowly. I thought they just stopped working.”
Alex tipped his head to the side, “True. But then even I hadn’t heard of a binding spell that was used for close to thirteen years, either.”
They were silent for quite some time after that, all lost in their own thoughts. Wesley sat and watched Abby as she picked up her tea again but didn’t drink it. Just held it between her hands.
There was no way she was cold — she sat only a few feet from the fireplace and it wasn’t a small fireplace by any means. Her shoulders were tense and Wesley was at a loss as to how to ease them. He was struck by how strange it was to feel so strongly about a stranger being anxious. Her emotions were affecting his far more than they should have been.
The girl had just found out, in the course of five hours, that she was half-Faye. Sent into hiding by someone who, it would appear, had cared for her at some point. And who could see spirits and also found out werewolves were real. Wesley figured they shouldn’t tell her about the vampires just yet.
He already had plans to head into the city tomorrow. To visit a friend of the pack’s, who may have some clues about the missing Canry girl that they were trying to help track down. Perhaps she might have answers for Abby too. “I’m going into the city tomorrow to see Claire. Maybe she’ll have some ideas why, or who, would use this kind of binding spell.” Alex and Tori looked over at him, but it was Abby’s eyes that felt like they were burning holes into him.
Alex nodded his head slowly, “It’s possible. But until we know more, I don’t want to bring anybody into this unnecessarily. I’m also not very comfortable with Abby leaving the protections placed on the house.”
Wesley understood — they had no idea what kind of Faye would want to hide their child from the supernatural world. And Alex’s house had been magically protected for years, no one who meant them any harm would be able to get in, spirit or not. He understood that caution was imperative. But they also had questions that needed answers. He gave a short nod, “But we can’t just hide her away in here forever, either. And Claire might be able to help her.”
“Uh, hello. Sitting right here.”
Wesley couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips when he looked at Abby, and saw annoyance in her eyes. Her lips were set in a determined line and she looked at him like she was daring him to talk about her like she wasn’t there.
“Who’s Claire?” She asked, turning her attention away from him and to Alex.
A small smile grew on Alex’s lips, despite the serious conversation, “Claire is a friend and a witch.”
Abby sat up straighter, clearly intrigued by the thought of meeting another witch. Quickly, before she could get any more ideas, Alex said, “She doesn’t have even a fraction of the amount of power you clearly have, Abby. Most witches these days don’t. It’s not uncommon for people to have Faye-blood in them, but it’s usually carried through from long ago relatives. Claire does the usual sort of things these days — tarot cards, fortune telling and the odd spirit talk. But I knew her mother and have known her all her life. She may be able to help answer some of our questions.”
Abby looked confused, her brows pinched tightly on her forehead. She probably had more questions now than she had five minutes ago. But she slowly nodded her head, “Alright.”
“She’s helping us to look into the murdered witch from the University, as well as another missing girl. I was going to see her tomorrow anyway, so it’s not a bother.” He could see the questions in her eyes, the irritation at still not knowing everything was clear in the pinch in her brows.
But then she simply nodded, her lips pursing together before she spoke. “When do we leave?”
Wesley nodded, glanced at Alex when he heard him sigh and run a hand down his face. “Alright, fine. You’ll both go into the city tomorrow to speak to Claire. But if you start to have spirits bother you, you need to call me. Get to Claire’s quickly or turn back around.” The stern tone of Alex’s voice was for himself, Wesley knew, but it was obvious that his father wasn’t joking around.
Alex offered a small smile to Abby, “I just don’t know how these spirits are really affecting you, and after the last incident, I’d rather not have a repeat.”
She nodded, but a look of pure determination was on her face. “Trust me, I don’t either. But we’ll be quick. And careful.”
Alex nodded and then rose from his perch on the other armchair, “Well, it’s gotten late. I think everyone needs a good night’s rest after this day we’ve had.”
That was a dismissal, if Wesley had ever heard one. And he’d heard plenty of them in his 20 years of life.
Tori walked over to Abby, and gave her a hug, “You’re welcome to stay with me in my room tonight, it’s just down the hall.” She glanced behind her at Alex, and smiled, “Though I suspect Alex has already offered you the guest room.”
Alex chuckled, “I hadn’t actually, we’ve all been a little busy. But of course, Abby, the guest room is all yours. I would much prefer you just stayed here tonight, instead of navigating down the mountain in the dark.”
Abby smiled a little, picking her mug back up from the table. “Thank you, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me today.”
Alex smiled, resting a hand on her shoulder briefly as he headed to the kitchen with his own mug. “Not at all a problem, dear girl. Sleep well.”
Tori took Abby’s hand and began to lead her towards the staircase, “Come on, I brought your other bag in from the car earlier. I stashed it in the closet for you.”
Turning slightly, while being pulled by Tori, Abby gave a soft smile. “Goodnight, Wesley.” She said it so softly, he wasn’t sure she had meant for him to hear it or not.
He had never felt so thankful for his wolf ears before.
* * *
The two wolves watched the girls disappear up the stairs, but remained silent until they heard the guest room door close and then Tori’s.
“So…”
Wesley sighed, turning his attention to his friend and adopted-father, “So, what, old
man?”
Alex chuckled, choosing to sit back down in his recliner with a cup of brandy, “Don’t get all snippy with me. I’m not the one who’s been trying to control his wolf all night.”
With a groan Wesley leaned his head on the back of the couch. A few breaths later, he finally got the words out that he had been thinking all night, “What’s wrong with me?” Another chuckle from across the room. That damn wolf was going to get punched if he kept it up.
“I think you know exactly what’s happening. You may be young, Wesley, but you’re not stupid.”
Did he? He had never felt like this before. Had never felt so completely out of control of his emotions and instincts. Never felt like there was a rope tied around his middle, and that the rope was connected to another person. He’s fairly certain he would have remembered feeling like the world had stopped turning, people had stopped speaking, and his vision had tunneled in — all at a scent.
“I’m an idiot.” Again with the chuckling. He was sure glad that Alex was having a great time with all of this.
“Wesley, my dear boy. Although you have made the usual mistakes every teenage boy makes, I’ve never thought you an idiot. You’re just as smart as your mother, and just as brave as your father.”
When Wesley lifted his head and looked across from him, Alex was looking at him over the rim of his glass, his eyes gleaming with affection. “Who would’ve thought. A wolf and a Faye. Not unheard of, of course.” He chuckled then, setting his brandy down. “Your parents would like her.”
Wesley groaned, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. He must look like a child. He sure as hell felt like one. “What do I do?”
Movement made him lift his head. Alex had stood up and was walking to the kitchen. “You go see Claire tomorrow, see what you two can learn. Talk to the girl, learn more about her. And tell her more about you and about your life.” Alex turned around and smiled, “You make her realize that she can trust you, be comfortable around you. I think she’ll realize quick enough, that the feelings she’s been having since she met you are things to be listened to.”
Wait. Had he been so focused on his own feelings, that he hadn’t noticed her scent changing? Or something that would have told him that she felt the same?
His face must have shown just how confused he was, because Alex came over to the couch and clapped his shoulder, “Wesley, the thing about a True Mate is that both parties feel it, werewolf or not. Your wolf half hasn’t chosen Abby out of a whim, and you don’t have to now work to make her like you. She’ll have been feeling the same things as you since she met you.” Wesley watched his friend head towards the stairs, clearly intent on heading to bed himself, “You’re both still young, you have years ahead of you to get to know each other. Don’t stress so much.”
As he got to the end of the stairs he paused, looking back at Wesley he said, “Now go to bed. You won’t be useful tomorrow if you’re exhausted.”
Wesley felt himself nod, although he hadn’t left his place by the fire. He heard Alex chuckle and head up to his room, the door closing a moment later. Wesley sat there, staring at the fire for longer than he probably intended to. He had been trying to ignore the feelings all night, all day really. Since that morning, when she had walked into the cafe.
He had heard stories, been told the signs. But never in his life had he thought he would actually find a Mate, someone he would want to spend years with. He sure never thought, even his wildest dreams, that he’d find his True Mate. He scrubbed a hand down his face. His life certainly just got a lot more interesting.
Chapter Eight
❖
Abby
Despite the crazy day, or maybe because of it, Abby slept better than she had in weeks.
Of course, the fact that Alex’s house had protections against spirits played a big role. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t dream of any ghosts.
The morning light shown through the huge windows in the living room, lighting up the space without the need for artificial light. Abby sat at the marble island while Alex cooked up some breakfast for the two of them. No matter how many times Abby insisted that she could just eat a banana or an apple, Alex shut her down. He then started making breakfast potatoes, eggs for himself since Abby declined, and fruit smoothies for both of them. Neither Wesley nor Tori had gotten up yet. Or perhaps they knew better than to enter the kitchen if they didn’t want to eat breakfast.
As Alex set himself in front of the stove, watching his eggs like a hawk and stirring the potatoes around so they wouldn’t burn, Abby smiled, “You like to cook, don’t you?”
He chuckled as he gave her a smirk over his shoulder, “What gave that away?”
“Oh, nothing at all.” She said with a smile on her face.
Turning the element off, Alex grabbed some blue ceramic plates down from the cupboard and then turned to face Abby at the island. “When you’re around for as long as me, you tend to find something you enjoy and hang onto it. Makes the years easier.”
Abby took the empty plate he offered her, standing to go serve herself some potatoes. “And how old are you, exactly?”
Coming to stand beside her so he could put his eggs onto his plate, he laughed, “You wound me, Abby. Asking a werewolf his age just like that.”
She looked into his eyes to figure out if he was really offended or not, but they still held laughter in them. She rolled her eyes at him and continued to get her food.
He was silent for a few moments before he said, “I was born sometime in the 1600’s, I don’t recall when exactly but it was earlier in the century.”
She was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open. That would make him around 400 years old. He was smiling at her as she stood there, dumbfounded. Trying to recover herself, she snapped her mouth closed and then said, “Well, you don’t look a day over 30.”
Alex threw his head back in laughter as Abby went back to her seat at the island. “Oh, child. I think you’re going to keep us all on our toes.”
He was still laughing as he turned to the fridge to get their smoothies chilling inside.
They ate in silence but Abby wasn’t bothered by it. Alex gave off such a calm demeanor. Even if she was certain he could snap a log in two with his bare hands. She wondered what he had been like as a human; how he had managed to stay sane when the world so vastly changed around him. Maybe she would ask him about it sometime.
She looked out the front windows, so much smaller than the huge ones behind her. The sun was making the browning grass look even more dead, but it also made the aspen trees in the front yard glimmer. The bright yellow of the leaves a stark contrast to the brown grass. Chewing her food, Abby glanced at Alex, “Why are you and the pack so interested in finding this missing girl?”
“Because I was asked by the head Alpha of the State to look into it.” He looked up from his plate, sadness evident in his eyes, “Witches being murdered isn’t something we can ignore.”
“Why?” She paused, shrugging one shoulder. “I mean people get killed more often than I’d like to admit. Why are witches any different?”
Sighing, Alex set his fork down. “You’re unfortunately right, humans do tend to kill their own. But as rare as witches are these days — and due to the black magic found around the body of Alice Hoffman — it would appear to be a planned murder.” He looked at her then with a soft smile, eyebrows pulled up slightly, “Don’t worry about that just now, I’m sure you’ll learn more about the situation from Claire.” He rose from his seat to take his empty plate to the sink, “You have enough on your plate right now, Abby. Let us worry about this.”
When Abby had finished her food, Alex washed the dishes in the sink, leaving her to sit at the island with a fresh cup of tea. Glancing at the clock, Abby realized it was quarter to eight. Wesley would probably be ready to go soon.
Before she lost her nerve, she asked the question that had been burning in her since the night before. “What’s
a mate?”
She knew he had heard her, werewolves had exceptional hearing after all. But he began washing the dishes anyway, the sound of sloshing water filling the room. Instead of asking her question again, she remained seated at the island, sipping her tea as she waiting for an answer. She could almost see it in the set of his shoulders that he was thinking hard about how to answer her question.
“Why do you ask?” He didn’t turn to look at her when he spoke.
“Because the ghost said something about mates. She’s been right so far, so I figured you might be able to shed some light on it.”
He was silent again, busy scrubbing the pan he had used for his eggs. Finally, when Abby was beginning to get fidgety with impatience, he sighed.
“There are different kinds of mates.” His back was still to her, but he glanced over his shoulder once, as if to make sure she was listening. “Werewolves can claim a mate whenever they choose. When they find someone that they want to spend significant time with. It’s like marriage in the human world, although it’s not so easily broken.” He shrugged, turned the water off and spun around to face her. Wiping his hands on a dish towel he met her gaze. “But then there are True Mates, which is a whole other thing entirely.” When he paused, Abby sat closer to the counter and leaned her elbows onto it. He had her attention, she just hoped he would continue.
With a slight shake of his head, he came to stand on the opposite side of the island to her, setting the dish towel down beside him. “A True Mate is your other half in this world, and possibly the next. Humans use that phrase “your other half” without even being able to comprehend what that means. There is only ever one True Mate for anyone, and it doesn’t follow species or gender or age. Your True Mate could have been born a hundred years ago or who has yet to be born. It is only by chance, destiny or fate if you will, that you meet your True Mate.”
