Wolf's Bane

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Wolf's Bane Page 10

by Kelley Armstrong


  I lean over and lay my head on Elijah’s shoulder. Logan’s eyes narrow even more, and I have to chuckle at that.

  “Get used to it, Lo,” I say. “Elijah and I need to practice our public displays of affection. I’ve agreed to be his fake girlfriend for the remainder of the camp.”

  “What?” Logan says, and there’s genuine outrage in his voice, which is adorable.

  “So, Elijah,” I say. “You’re at this conference, posing as a half-demon because . . .”

  “Because werewolves weren’t invited.”

  My look tells him that isn’t an answer to the actual question.

  He continues, “When my dad died, he left a couple of names for me. Two werewolves who might be able to help once I grew up. One’s dead. The other blew me off but had a friend who heard about my situation and got in touch. He wasn’t looking to play werewolf Big Brother. I’ve discovered werewolves aren’t exactly the most helpful race, which is why I really do appreciate you giving me those tips, Kate.”

  “Pack werewolves can be plenty helpful,” I say. “That’s the point of being in one.”

  Elijah doesn’t get the recruitment hint, but Logan does, and his eyes darken with fresh outrage.

  Really, Lo? Aren’t you the one who always takes Mom’s side about wanting a bigger Pack . . . while I’m with Dad for keeping our borders tight?

  Maybe he thinks I’m going to extend an invitation a few hours after meeting a new werewolf. Sure, Elijah’s hot, and he’s an amazing kisser, but I don’t think Mom will accept those as recruitment qualifications.

  “Well, I do appreciate it,” Elijah says. “My dad wasn’t exactly a fan of the Pack.”

  “Let me guess,” Logan says. “He got his ass kicked for breaking the Laws, and he told you stories about how it was all a big mistake, the Pack bullies throwing their weight around.”

  “No,” Elijah says, his voice chilling. “My father never had any run-ins with the Pack. But they were responsible for the death of someone he cared about. Someone who did not deserve it. At all.”

  “Older wolves have good reasons for not trusting us,” I say quickly. “The Pack did some nasty shit back in the day. So, you had contact with another werewolf who didn’t want to mentor you . . .”

  “Yeah, but he gave me the name of this half-demon he knew. He thought she might be able to help. She offered to put me in touch with the Pack, but I said hell no. We talk sometimes. It helps having contact with another supernatural. She mentioned this conference because she thought it’d be great for me. Except when she checked, the organizers kiboshed the idea on account of my race. No vamps. No weres. No exceptions.”

  “Uh . . .” Allan says.

  “Yeah, apparently it was just me. Anyway, I have been interested in making contact with supernaturals my own age, so she agreed to vouch for me as a half-demon who hasn’t come into his powers yet.”

  “That explains why you’re here,” I say, “and why you’re playing for Team Half-Demon. It does not explain why you broke into the office and were trying to log on to the computer. And don’t tell me you were checking your YouTube stats.”

  “Nah, I just . . .” He shifts, shrugging. “It’s gonna sound weird and paranoid.”

  “I like weird. I live weird.”

  We exchange a smile, and there’s a softness in his eyes as they crinkle at the corners.

  “Get to the point,” Logan says curtly. I frown his way, but he pretends not to see it.

  Elijah turns to Holly and Allan. “You guys arrived yesterday, too. Does anything seem different today? Weirder?”

  They glance at each other.

  “It’s a camp full of teens with supernatural powers,” Holly said. “You’ll have to be more specific about the weird.”

  Elijah shrugs, looking a little abashed. “Maybe it’s me, then. When we got here, it was awkward and tense like any new situation. Today, though, you’d think it’d be better. We’d all be relaxing. Instead, I feel like someone’s sitting in a control tower, cranking up the dial. I was saying earlier that this place is a hotbed of teen hormones with everyone looking to pair up. Aggressively looking to pair up. Then there’s the actual aggression—the shouting matches and fistfights. People snapping over anything. It’s as if everyone’s looking for an excuse to fuck or fight, you know? I can feel the tension. My hackles go up and stay up for no reason I can tell.”

  Silence. Elijah looks at Allan and Holly. “I’m imagining it, aren’t I?”

  “I’ve only been here a few hours,” I say. “But we arrived to a fight between a counselor and a camper, and Tricia didn’t seem all that shocked.”

  “It’s definitely hormone central,” Allan says. “I’ve been hit on by three girls since I got here. I was hoping it was just my new shampoo. I mean, sure, we are at camp. It’s like Las Vegas for teens. What happens here stays here. But as Elijah says, it seems aggressive. As if there’s a hook-up competition with an awesome prize, and no one told me about it.”

  I glance at Holly, whose cheeks redden. “Uh, sorry. I can’t help. No one’s been hitting on me.”

  “Because no one’s seen you,” Allan says. “You spent the entire day in your bedroom. I saw you talking to Mackenzie at breakfast, and then you took off . . .” He stops and swears under his breath. “What’d she say to you?”

  Holly’s cheeks go redder, and when she says, “Nothing,” it’s an obvious lie. Holly hurries on with, “I just wanted to get in some spell practice, and I lost track of time.”

  “Well, you didn’t miss much. Mackenzie and her clique were being total bitches to everyone all day. Spoiling for a brawl, with words that cut deeper than knives.”

  I know exactly what that feels like. I’d rather be sucker-punched than sliced with the tongue of a teenage girl. I nod Allan’s way and then look at Elijah. “You believe they’re spiking the Kool-Aid with testosterone?”

  “Nah, I just think it’s weird and suspicious. I’ve been feeling edgy myself. I was at that cabin this morning running to burn it off. I’ve heard of experiments being run on teen supernaturals. This would be the perfect laboratory. I don’t know what I hoped to find in their files. I just wanted a look.”

  “There is another explanation,” I say. “This land isn’t empty for no reason. I heard that people tried to build on it and . . .” I flutter my fingers and waggle my brows. “Strange things happened. People disappearing. People turning up horribly dead.”

  “As opposed to nicely dead?” Elijah says.

  I stick out my tongue at him. Allan and Holly laugh. My brother does not.

  “Oh, man,” Elijah says, leaning back. “Please don’t tell me the conference center was built on an ancient Native American burial site.”

  “I beat you to that line about eight hours ago,” I say.

  “Then can I be the first to point out that we’re a bunch of teens at a summer camp, wandering around the forest at night?”

  “It’s not night yet. And we won’t die unless we sneak off to have sex.”

  “Huh.” He lifts one brow. “In the interest of testing that theory . . .”

  Logan levers forward so fast we all jump.

  Elijah lifts his hands. “Chill. It was a joke. How about you get to know me before you’re all up in my face?”

  “Get to know you,” Logan muses. “Let’s see. The first time I saw you, you were hiding in the forest, ogling my sister.”

  “Ogling?” Elijah sputters. “I’m not saying Kate isn’t worth an ogle, but the first time I saw her, my only thought was ‘That girl smells like a . . . Holy shit, that’s Kate Danvers.’ And then I bolted.”

  “The second time,” Logan continues. “You seemed to be stalking her through the forest.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “And now I find out you’ve talked her into some kind of fake girlfriend arrangement.”

  I chuckle. “It didn’t take much talking. A bit of kiss—” I stop fast, seeing Logan’s expression. “We decided it was a perfe
ctly logical solution to the hormone-overload situation. Which is what we’re discussing.” I look at Elijah. “What did you think of that cabin?”

  He hesitates and looks around the group. “At the risk of sounding crazy again, I had a weird experience there. I didn’t see the place at first. I was jogging past when I could have sworn someone whispered in my ear. Only no one was there. As I was shaking it off, I turned and saw the cabin.”

  “A creepy hidden cabin?” Holly says. “Am I going to sound weird if I say that’s cool?”

  “Not at all.” I push to my feet. “In fact, I’m going to use this flimsy excuse to suggest we take a field trip and check it out.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Logan

  Elijah.

  As we head to the cabin, Kate walks beside this guy, chattering like they’ve known each other for years.

  Sure, he’s good looking. I’m not the sort of guy who pretends they can’t see that for fear it means they’re gay. I might be gay. Bisexual at least. All I know is that I’m not attracted to people in the way Kate is, where you see someone and think, They’re hot, and I’d like to make out with them. There’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes I wish I did feel like that. At least it’d be normal. But I can’t imagine wanting to make out with a random girl or guy. I want to spend time with them first, decide whether I’d like more.

  I’ve reached that point twice—once with a female friend and once with a male one—but the attraction was never strong enough for me to act on it. I wasn’t ready for the emotional impact a relationship would have on my life. I need the emotional with the physical, and I haven’t met someone worth the time or effort.

  But this isn’t about me. It’s about Kate. So I can recognize that Elijah is a good-looking guy, and I know my sister has no problem checking out boys who catch her eye. That’s all she usually does, though. Checks them out, like admiring the scenery. When she dates, other qualities trump looks. But Elijah has her full attention, and I’m trying to figure out why while fearing I know the answer.

  My sister has never met another werewolf our age. Elijah seems to think there’s something hormonal going on at this camp, and I’d like to say he’s full of crap, but it might explain what’s going on between them.

  What makes me suspect his motives is that he’s a non-Pack werewolf, and Kate is the Alpha’s daughter. Also Elijah is attending this conference under false pretenses. Maybe he came here with an ulterior motive.

  Like what?

  I can’t answer that. I just know that I don’t like him and that I feel like a jerk saying that. When I first saw him, though, I’d had a flash of déjà vu. I know we’ve never met. I’d recognize his scent. But I look at him, and there’s this niggling sense that I’ve seen his face before. That bugs me.

  I also want to know what’s up with this fake-girlfriend business. He’s charmed Kate into pretending to be his girlfriend, and that feels territorial. As if he’s claimed her, and even though it’s not a real relationship, other guys will steer clear. Other guys like Allan, who I always liked.

  Now Allan’s left on the sidelines, Brandon’s blowing up my phone trying to reunite with my sister, and she’s off gallivanting with this guy.

  Gallivanting? I sound like an eighty-year-old on his porch, shaking his cane at some punk sniffing around after my great-granddaughter.

  I’m just . . . confused. My sister isn’t a heartless man-eater, laughing as she leaves a string of broken hearts in her wake. But first Brandon and now Allan, and I just feel bad for them.

  So I blame Kate for that? As if she has a responsibility to like the guys who fall for her? No, of course not.

  I don’t even know what I’m saying. I’m just cranky because I don’t like Elijah while realizing there’s no reason for it, and that might be proof I am indeed being affected by something hormonal at this camp.

  I’m also cranky because he’s up there, laughing and talking to my sister, and that used to be me, and I miss it. I miss her. Earlier today, sitting in her room with Holly, I’d felt like her brother again, as if this conference might be what we needed to get back to that. Then along comes Elijah . . .

  “Logan!” Kate calls, spinning around. “Did you ever learn the legend about this place?”

  “Was I supposed to?” I say.

  She smiles, thankfully missing the cranky snap in my words. “No, it wasn’t a research assignment. I’m just wondering if you heard anything.”

  “You mean those stories about the land and why it hasn’t been developed?” Allan says. “Sure, I know those.”

  “What?” Kate says, spinning on him. “We were just talking about that, and you didn’t share?”

  He smiles. “You never asked.”

  She hooks her arm through his, and says, “Asking now.” Allan lights up, like the sun just turned his way. I glance at Elijah, expecting to see his face harden, but he only smiles at Kate’s exuberance.

  “Don’t keep her in suspense,” Elijah says. “She might burst.”

  “Well, it’s not one story,” Allan says. “It’s a whole lotta them.”

  “Gimme,” Kate says.

  Allan takes a deep breath. “Okay, well, most of the land is owned by a mining company. It’s West Virginia. There’s coal in them there hills. Except, as it turned out, there wasn’t a lot of coal. So the mining operation was short lived, cut even shorter when the mine collapsed, trapping everyone inside.”

  “And even today,” Elijah intones. “You can hear the men tap-tapping on the shaft, telling the rescuers they’re still alive. Only there was no way to get to them, so their loved ones had to listen to those taps, until finally”—his voice drops—“they fell silent. But if you go there when the moon hangs low, you can still hear the tap-tap-tap of the miners’ ghosts.”

  “You’ve heard this story,” Allan says.

  “I’ve heard many, many variations on this story,” Elijah says.

  “It’s still a good one,” Kate says.

  “Never said it wasn’t.” Elijah looks at Allan. “You wouldn’t know where we could find this mine, would you?”

  “Field trip!” Kate says.

  “Uh, yeah,” Holly says. “Field trip for you two. I’m going to hear tap-tapping in my sleep now.”

  “I’ll keep you awake so you won’t have nightmares,” Kate says. “I’ll tell you creepy urban legends all night. I’m kind of an expert.”

  Holly flashes Kate a thumbs-up. “Awesome.” She turns to me. “Mason didn’t leave his tent out here, did he? I might be looking for new lodgings.”

  “Oh, you don’t want to stay out here,” Allan says. “Not all the ghosts are confined to the mine. There are plenty more stories. The rumor is that an ancient curse caused that mine accident. Experts at the time said the collapse was highly suspicious.”

  “Because the mine wasn’t producing, as you pointed out,” I say. “And it suffered a catastrophic disaster. I suspect these two things are not unconnected.”

  “Fie on you and your logic,” Kate says. “Tell us the real story, Allan. Or at least the more interesting version.”

  “Well, like I said, the mine owners got the land cheap.”

  “Because the coal had run out,” I say.

  Kate claps a hand over my mouth. “Continue, Allan.”

  “They got it cheap because no one else wanted it. Now, legend says that when settlers first came to West Virginia, they found this area brimming with game. The native hunters avoided it. They called it—”

  “Wait, I know this one!” Kate says. “Tricia said it was a Native American word that means ‘The Valley of the Disappeared.’”

  Allan frowns. “I heard it meant ‘Forest of the Unwelcome.’”

  “Nah,” Elijah says. “It actually translates to ‘white folks will believe any shit if we stick a fake Native American word on it.’”

  Allan snaps his fingers. “Yes, that was it. So the local tribes avoided it because it was haunted. Or, possibly, because it’s just
one patch of rich forest in a massive wilderness of rich forest, and they found better places to live. Whatever the truth, the settlers thought they hit the jackpot. They settled a tiny community where they began clear-cutting for crops. You can still see the clearing down by the river bend, but the village itself is long gone.”

  “Please tell me the entire population disappeared one night, never to be seen again,” Kate says.

  “You’ve heard this one before, too?” Allan says.

  “Roanoke,” Kate and Elijah say in unison, and then grin at each other, like five-year-olds discovering they both like the color blue.

  “Stories like Roanoke aren’t that uncommon,” I say. “People discovered problems with the location they’d settled in, often in the middle of a long winter, and they moved on.”

  “Leaving everything behind?” Kate says. “Even kettles whistling over the fire?”

  “First, I doubt early settlers had whistling kettles. Second, no one was around to confirm that kettles were whistling when they left.”

  Kate makes a face at me and turns to Allan. “Is that what happened? Everyone vanished?”

  “That’s the short version. If you rush ahead to the ending, you don’t get the full story.”

  “Sorry.” Kate motions zipping her lips and then gestures for him to go on.

  “The settlers began clearing farmland near the river bend. It was, by all accounts, a veritable Eden. Clean water, good soil, plenty of game and fish. One of the families wrote their adult daughter, telling her to come join them with her husband and new baby. They arrived in early autumn, well before the first frost. The four homesteads were empty. Deer carcasses and fish hung outside, buzzing with flies and maggots. All that remained of the village—”

  “Was a single word, carved in a tree. Ro—” Elijah claps a hand over his own mouth. “Sorry.”

  “Bloody wolf prints,” Allan says.

  That gets Kate’s attention. “What?”

  “Paw prints from a massive canine, tracked through all four homes. Prints bigger than a man’s hand.”

 

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