Masked SheWolf
Page 6
She has the decency to blush and look down in embarrassment, although she doesn't apologize. At least she let it go and stopped talking.
"So you're having a party, right?" Brad suddenly speaks up again.
"Yeah, but it's kind of exclusive," she tells him apologetically, not the least bit surprised that he knows that. "It's a sort of a welcome home thing we're throwing for ourselves."
"That's pretty cool," I comment. "You guys must have really missed living here, huh?"
I'm hoping she'll answer in a way that would shed some light on why they're back, or possibly why they left in the first place.
"I wouldn't know, I wasn't born when my family left here," she tells us.
Ah, of course, I should have thought of that. She's my age, after all, and my family moved here before I was born, by which time, the pack had already moved away.
Just as I'm about to ask another question, my phone beeps almost instantaneously with Danny's, and I know it's a text from our parents. We stare at each other for a brief second before pulling out our cells and discreetly reading the message.
We've all been invited to officially meet the Silver Moon pack's new alpha. Rod's Diner, after school.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My fingers light up with the sensation of bringing life to the atmosphere. My entire body is elated with so much joy and brightness that it feels like my chest is going to explode. This is usual for me, but it still takes my breath away every single time. It is my only reason for living right in this moment.
My final period of the day is my favorite, because I get to do the only thing I've ever done for myself out of selfish reasons. Playing the piano has always been my forte. My parents signed me up for home lessons when I first picked up a keyboard at three and wouldn't put it down for hours every day. I was a natural, apparently.
As I play the last note, my fingers gently smooth over the keyboards, and I stop for a moment to take it all in; the silence, the still burning euphoria in the air and the feeling of dominating the world. Then the clapping comes, as it usually does from both teacher and students, and I open my eyes again.
Miss Tanner has tears in her eyes and is using a tissue to wipe them away. Among the few students taking this class with me, five of the seven girls are staring at me like starstruck teenagers while the other two are busy admiring themselves, and the only three guys are annoyed at the attention I'm getting. They'll have to get in line.
"Oh, that was beautiful, Michael," Miss Tanner cries, figuratively and literally.
"Thanks," I mumble with indifference.
The self-consciousness and discomfort I feel are already draining away the euphoria of playing, and dropping me back to a cynical reality where I have to act like I don't care about anything so as not to bring attention to myself. This has always been a vital role for me to play, because too much attention might cause trouble. It's the reason why my parents cut me off from my piano lessons when I was thirteen, when my teacher tried to get me into performing onstage.
"But he's got so much potential!" he said to my parents after they refused, begging them to let me share my talent with the world.
But, like with the college request, the answer was no. What would they have done if they found out about the singing thing, too?
Miss Tanner calls whoever is next to perform their piece, and I mentally groan. Not to sound conceited or anything, but none of them has any shred of talent. The girl that goes next picks up the violin, and I can already tell this is going to be yet another torture session for me. Especially with the way the girl is eyeing me, like she's making sure I'm listening. We only play in front of each other once a month. I dread these days almost as much as I look forward to them. As I always do, I look out the window and drift off to dreamland, tuning everything else out.
If I wasn't a werewolf, if I was just another girl born with everything I have now, I would probably be a singer. If that didn't pan out, there's always plan B; a concert pianist. The thrill of playing the piano is amazing, but I feel the same thrill when I'm singing along, too. My singing voice is low, which means it's easier for me to reach the bass notes than the high notes. Obviously, I never sing in public, because while my voice is not high-pitched, it's still obviously female.
While I stare at the tree outside, with the screeching sound of the violin playing in the background, I picture what my day would be like in a world where I carry no dark secrets, not even the werewolf secret. A world where my family and I are human. Perhaps my daily concern would be whether or not the guy I have a crush on likes me. Nah, that's probably not true. I mean as a guy, I'm cute, but as girl, I'd be too hot to have these kinds of insecurities.
I try again. Maybe my main concern would be to make music. Maybe instead of being a confident bombshell who's more than likely shallow and slutty, I would be an introvert musician in a struggling band. That would be cool. And obviously, because I have incredible talent both in music and for picking friends, we would most likely make it big in time. Wouldn't that be something? The only downside would be that my brothers might treat me like a girl, and maybe War Day wouldn't exist. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.
I snap back to reality when the bell rings, and I'm almost grateful to be out of the torture room. But then I remember what plans I have for my afternoon, and the uneasiness returns. The only bright side is that I'm hoping Sadie might be there, too. I wonder what her reaction would be if she sees me.
When I see the other girls in this class coming towards me while giggling with each other, I grab my books in one swift movement and rush out of there as fast as I can, pretending not to hear when they call my name.
The hallways are filled with students as eager as I am to leave. I get accidentally pushed against the blue lockers a couple of times, and pieces of cracked paint fall from the wall on my red hoodie. A minute later, I meet up with Danny at the school entrance.
"Hey, bro," he greets me. "Ready to take on the Silver Moon bunch?"
I groan. "Don't remind me."
I'm nervous enough as it is. My family hasn't had contact with another pack since I was born. I personally never even came face to face with one. A part of me is scared they'll take one look at me and instantly realize I'm a girl. Years of fear ingrained within me are at fault here. But I trust my parents, and I know they would never put me in harm's way.
When Daniel and I get outside, we find Nate leaning over a girl slumped against the outer wall with her books tucked into both her arms. One of his hands is in his pockets while the other is resting on the wall beside her head. They're both grinning flirtatiously at each other.
I look at Danny, and he guesses what I'm thinking from the sardonic smirk on my face. It breaks my heart to extract Nathan from an easy win -really, it does- but I can't stop myself from grabbing him in a headlock and rubbing the hair on his head with my knuckles as fast and as hard as I can, steering him away from the girl while doing so.
"What's up loverboy?"
"Get the hell off, Michael!" he screams.
I let go just as he's about to punch me in the stomach and grin at him. "What's the matter? Didn't you just get laid this weekend? What was her name? Gina?"
"Gina?!" the girl screeches in anger before he can even react. "You're the one who screwed my best friend over, you asshole?"
Whoa, I did not see that coming. I'm so impressed that one of my eyebrows shoots up.
Nate tries to save himself. "No, Cami, I never-"
She cuts him off. "Save it! You know, I actually thought you were cute. And to think I was this close to giving you my number!"
Indignant, she walks off with her nose in the air. It takes about two seconds for my composure to break and for me and Danny to start laughing our asses off. We hold each other up while we get it out of our system. In the meantime, Nate stares after her for a couple of seconds before turning his glare on me.
"Now that, my dear brothers, is what I call payback," I announce with a bow.
"Thank you, it's a gift," I modestly reply.
"Can we just go now?" Nate grumbles.
He is just itching to get back at me; I can feel it. But, sadly for him, because of the rules of War Day, he's not allowed to.
The three of us walk to where Connor's Audi is parked and waiting. My two remaining brothers have chosen to stay in the car, because even though one of them refuses to admit it, they are too whipped to go near other girls, especially high school girls.
Mason does that by choice since he is entirely devoted to his mate -like I said, whipped. But Connor, I suspect, is afraid of... damn, I forgot her name again... his girl dumping him.
They're both sitting in the front, so there's no point arguing over shotgun. Once we hop in, Connor pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving towards Rod's Diner.
"I always enjoy watching your retaliations on War Day, Mickey," Mason comments with amusement.
I give him my best innocent smile. "Thank you brother."
"You know you're the only one left on his agenda, right?" Nate reminds him.
Mason apparently forgot about that, since he grimaces and slaps a hand over his face.
I laugh at his discomfort. "Oh, don't worry, I'll go easy on you."
"Hey!" Con protests. "Why does he get the easy treatment?"
"Because he's the only one of you idiots who's got a mate," is my reply.
I don't need to elaborate; they know what I'm talking about. It means Mase is the one who sympathizes with my fellow females -and subsequently with me- the most. Also, there's the fact that Marianna becomes concerned for him very often, which means I can't ever do anything drastic to him. But that doesn't mean I can't yank his chains every once in a while. Marianna even joins in on the laughter sometimes, which makes her so much cooler in my eyes.
"Connor might have himself a mate, soon," Daniel hints teasingly.
"Shut up," Con replies with forced indifference.
Oh yeah, he is so whipped.
"Nah, he's too much of a coward to take that leap," I continue the joke.
"I'm not a coward!" he protests.
"Then why haven't you asked her?" Nate mocks.
What's the girl's name? There's a joke I need to tell...
"Because, we're not serious," Con insists. "I just like having her around sometimes."
"Yeah, and you just adore her borderline obsessive need to immortalize everything you do together in pictures," Danny says sarcastically.
"Hey, it's not her fault we're both photogenic," he replies defensively.
"Oh man, you're as obsessed with her as you are with yourself," Mason remarks, "if that habit of hers doesn't even get on your nerves."
I wish one of them would say her name already so I can tell my joke!
"We all have habits that get on people's nerves," Connor points out evasively.
"Yeah, but we only put up with them if we care about the other person," Mason goes on. "Like Nate's thing for stuffing his feet into dirty shoes all day and only airing them when I decide to go to bed, for example." We all roar in laughter at that, even Nathan.
"That's a whole lot harder to put up with than Andrea's picture fetish," Danny laughs.
Andrea! Finally, I can tell my joke.
Just as I open my mouth to start saying it, I see the diner's sign, and the joke dies in my throat. The others fall quiet along with me, and a tense silence builds up as Connor parks.
Finally, Danny sighs and says, "Let's go dance with the wolves."
Chapter 6
Logan
Rod's Diner has been used as neutral territory for pack business since my family first lived here. The current owner is Rod’s son Malcolm, a werewolf in his forties who stayed behind with his family when our pack first moved, because his father was too attached to the diner and refused to leave, even though he was terminally ill. Malcolm stayed with him to take care of him in his last few years of life, and then took over the business. He's got a wife of his own and two boys who are fourteen and fifteen years old, all of whom work with him.
This is where I’ve chosen to meet with the Connollies, on the off chance that a conflict will ensue, to give everybody a way out. The "closed" sign greets us at the front door, but Malcolm lets us in immediately.
The diner looks the same as it did in my parents’ photo albums, only a bit worn out; the colors red and white dominate the doors, counters, tables, sofas and chairs, and the floor tile is checkered black and white. The few tables which were taken before we came are messy with food remains, but the others are shining and reflecting the light from the lamps. We sit at the table at the far end corner. Cade and his brothers are the ones I asked to come with me, along with Sadie and Reena.
"This place is... interesting," my mate mutters when we enter. She’s not one to love places that sell junk food. She’s very health conscious.
For some illogical reason, Reena chose to wear something extremely revealing. We’re in the middle of Spring, yet she’s wearing jean shorts and a tight white blouse which makes her blue eyes even more piercing than usual and visibly brings out her womanly curves. Combining that with her natural olive skin tone, long and straight black hair, sharp features and striking good lucks, and she looks as though she has just come back from a day of tanning at the beach.
On the one hand, I’m uneasy at the thought of other guys ogling her. It’s bad enough that Jared and Sam eyed her up and down before we left the compound. But on the other hand, she is undeniably sexy, and my satisfaction over the fact that she is mine makes me want to show her off.
"Think Mom and Dad would remember this place if they came here?" Cade asks his brothers.
"Definitely," Sam and Jared answers back simultaneously.
"It must be as old as they are," Jared jokes.
"If not older," Sam plays along.
Their usual banter always starts this way, but they are interrupted by Sadie this time.
"Can you imagine how much history the pack has here?" she comments with a fascination that negates Reena’s disgust and the Nashes’ mockery. "What if some of our parents met in this very diner? It’s so cool to think we’re literally standing in their place right now."
She took the words right out of my mouth. I think she may have even said it for my benefit. Every new place I visit in this town is yet another link I have to my parents. Yesterday, after Cade and I had come back, I spent a considerable amount of time just walking around the pack house, visualizing what my parents might have done at one point in their lives in each room. I could imagine them having breakfast together in the kitchen, or lounging around in the playing room, or just relaxing in their bedroom, which I am now occupying.
"Maybe for you guys," Reena murmurs so low that only I hear, since my ear is right by her mouth, my arm around her waist guiding her towards the farthest table in the corner.
"Don’t think like that," I try to reassure her.
Thing is, try is the keyword. She’s been getting very pessimistic about her family for the last couple of days. At first, I thought of it as a chance for me to act as her protector, but she’s doing it so frequently now that I’m only half-heartedly trying.
Once we all sit down, one of Malcolm’s sons comes over to take our orders. He’s not surprised when each one of the guys orders three full meals for himself. He knows who we are; Malcolm was expecting us, and the Connollies too, who should be here soon.
"When they get here, you guys have to behave," I warn the twins. "You’re only here for backup."
The Connollies have five boys, which means we’re outnumbered by two of them. However, we’re not outmatched; no matter what kind of training this family has had, I am certain that they can never match ours. We’re not one of the most powerful packs in the region by chance. Plus, we have our numbers back at home, and our influence within other neighboring packs.
"Hey, we always behave," Jared obj
ects.
"We’re the poster children for politeness and propriety, pardon," Sam goes on in a mock-British accent, emphasizing the ‘p’ too much.
A round of snickers and laughter follows. Even I can’t contain my amusement. The twins usually have a knack for getting on people’s nerves, especially mine, but their humor is always a breath of fresh air when I’m tensed.
"Maybe you shouldn’t talk at all," Cade suggests, only half joking.
"We could pretend to be serious so they’ll think we’re intimidating," Sam decides.
"If you manage that, you can have the game room for a whole week," Sadie teases.
I smile fully this time. This is just the motivation they need. They’ve been arguing with her over that since we moved, because she’s spent more time than they did yesterday.
Minutes later, the food is brought to us. Halfway through, a middle aged couple, who I’m guessing are the head of the Connolly family, enters the diner. The man is tall and burly, his werewolf scent immediately tipping off who he is. His blonde wife beside him also has some traces of it on her.
When they spot us, I immediately stand up to greet them, the way an alpha should. I’m still not used to everything about the position, but being formal is one of the things I’ve mastered since my youth, having been trained by my uncle.
"You must be Mr. Connolly," I say.
"Please, call me Steven," he replies. "This is my wife, Brooke."
She smiles and shakes my hand first before moving on to the rest of my company. I take it as a good sign that they're both friendly to all of us.
"I'm the alpha of the Silver Moon pack," I announced myself. "My name is Logan Underwood."
Steven cuts me off before I could introduce everyone else. "I don't mean to interrupt you, Alpha, but I think you might want to save time and leave the introductions for when my children get here, because they're only moments away."
That's not the worst idea. "Of course," I agree. "Have a seat then."
They comply. For a couple of seconds, we just sit there in awkward silence. Everybody is so uncharacteristically quiet, I almost miss the twins' jokes to diffuse the tension. But I actually prefer this awkwardness over risking a conflict because of their childishness. Besides, I can handle formalities much better than I could contain two teenagers.