Season of the Wolf Pt. 02

I've dismissed Christine and Rod as possibilities. Christine doesn't know shit about the supernatural. She can't keep a secret to save her soul. If she had any inkling there were paranormals out there I'd know.

I've already searched through anything having to do with my parents. That was the first thing I looked for. My parent's identities are solid. They were who they said they were. I don't really have anyone to ask to confirm that assumption though. I've never met any of my relatives. Perhaps, it's just coincidental that there's nothing linking my parents, their births, or the people they were before I came along, to anything but a mound of paperwork.

I know my parents are dead. That's a fact. I saw them, cold and lifeless, broken and bloodied. I was there at the crematorium to say my final goodbye before their bodies were burned to ash. I scattered their ashes. I've never doubted it was the ashes of my parents that I surrendered to the wind. That my parents aren't really dead is nothing more than wishful thinking and I can't risk that kind of hope.

I feel so alone, avoiding Christine and Han, missing my parents, and turning away from the family I'd just met.

Calling Christine is a waste of my time unless I just want an ass chewing for being the worst BFF ever. Though a good scolding would take my mind off Han and it isn't like I don't deserve it. Christine and Rod are the only tie I have left to L.A. and while they can't help me accomplish my goal. I won't say a little diversion and some company wouldn't be helpful.

I've been spotting werewolves lurking inside of every stranger I come across. But, I know it's just my imagination. If I do actually find one, I'll know it and it won't be my mind playing tricks on me.

Chapter 5

I found Grace's old apartment building easily enough. The place is little more than a crumbling tenement and way too small to house the number of people living inside. But, it's near the beach and there's nowhere else I'd expect Grace to live. Her apartment is on the third floor and down a long meandering hallway reeking of the mingled smells of humanity. To me, the apartment complex is stifling, but I imagine Grace was able to overlook everything I find so unappealing just to have her view of the ocean.

I feel it before I lift my fist to knock on the door. The prickle of preternatural energy has the hairs on my arm standing on end. I don't recognize the brand of this particular energy and at first dismiss it. But, there's no denying the musky aroma of wolf scent coming from Grace's old apartment. The scent isn't hers. In fact, the traces of her scent are so weak. I can barely smell them at all.

My wolf bristles at the threat and I dig my nails deep into my palm to keep myself planted firmly in my human skin. I feel twinges of pity for Grace. Everything and everyone she thought she knew. It's all been a lie. Right now, my only thoughts are of her and I don't hazard to think beyond to all the things it means to smell a wolf, someone like me, behind that closed door.

I lift my fist to knock and find I didn't need to expend the energy. The door opens and a blonde stands in the entryway staring me down and leaking preternatural energy all over the place. The woman is dazzling, tall and statuesque, long legged and scantily dressed in a pair of short shorts and a tank top. Her blue eyes flare in recognition of what her sense of smell tells her about me. Her full pink lips curl over white teeth as she takes in my scent and embeds it into her memory. She knows the truth about me just as I know the truth about her.

She moves to slam the door in my face, but I'm faster and block it with my body. The two of us are beyond the rules of moral man and the law doesn't exactly apply. I force my way into the living room and she bristles at the invasion of another wolf into her territory. I'm light on the balls of my feet and spin to face the male moving between she and I to guard her. "I don't want any trouble. I just want to find Grace." I say before this situation can get any worse.

I keep the door behind me and resist the instinctive urge to posture and flaunt the innate aggression of my alpha male. The female huffs and tugs tightly on the metaphysical leash restraining her wolf and brings her to heel. The male doesn't back down quite so easily and has difficulty getting his wolf under control. With light strokes of her fingertips and soft words whispered into his ear, the female soothes him and he manages to maintain his human form.

My wolf doesn't want to let this go and I'm gritting my molars and biting the inside of my cheek to keep him contained. The three of us stand there awkwardly in the tiny living room and exchange stares. It's obvious they're just as shocked as I am to see me and none of us really know what to say.

I see it. The moment the female pulls her humanity together and shakes off her wolf. "I'm Christine and this is Rod and you are?" She's good, really good. I can almost believe I didn't see and smell what I saw a few minutes ago. If not for the prickle of preternatural energy tainting the atmosphere I'd almost believe Christine is completely and unquestioningly human.

"Hanson Galloway," I answer. "Han." I thrust out my hand and am not surprised when she refuses it. Christine doesn't bat an eye or miss a beat. She offers me a seat on her battered couch and moves to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. I sit and Rod does likewise, never taking his eyes off of me.

I'm trying to process the situation. I've never seen another wolf not of my pack before and don't quite know how to handle it. Of course, I expected the aggression and the posturing since I basically invaded their den. To them, I'm a threat and they likewise, are to me and quite possibly to Grace. I wonder if they knew about her or if wolves regardless of their origin instinctively seek one another out.

Christine notices Rod glaring at me from her view through the pass through between the kitchen and the living room. "Rod, be nice to our guest," Christine chastises. She smiles shyly and shrugs as she doles out chipped and mismatched coffee mugs. Daintily, as if she's the queen of England, she takes a seat and crosses her long legs at the ankles. "You'll have to forgive him. He's still new at this."

I nod as if her explanation makes perfect sense and sip my coffee. The stuff is bitter and strong, absolutely awful, but it's hot and the act of drinking out of a mug helps to center me in my human skin. Questions buzz in my brain, but I sit back and let Christine play hostess. I don't want to give too much away in the questions I ask. I want to know what she knows without divulging secrets of my own.

I need Christine and Rod on my side, not fighting against me. It's obvious Grace hasn't been here recently. What isn't so clear to me is if these two know where she is. I need intel and the best way to get it to play nice. Most women love to talk about their mates and I decide this might be a good way to start a conversation and get my questions answered. "How did you two meet?"

Christine smiles and bats her lashes at me. She knows the game I'm trying to play, but takes a breath to answer my question. "I'd rather talk about Grace, if it's all the same to you." My hopes fall as she fails to rise to take the bait. Grace described her best friend as dramatic and possibly a little ditzy. Christine is neither of these things. She's been around, perhaps longer than I have and she's nobody's fool.

Rod keeps quiet and lets her do the talking. He sips his coffee and scrabbles to hang onto his human form. I know how difficult of a task it can sometimes be and keep my moves as non-threatening as possible. If these two have the support of a larger pack behind them, the last thing I want to do is pose a problem. I nod and mull over Christine's request. "Sure. Grace left Indiana a few days ago and nobody has seen or heard from her since. I have reason to believe she has returned to L.A., but I'm not certain. Have you had any contact with her?"

"Not a word. Sorry to say. But, trust me, if she's here, I'll find her." Christine sounds so certain. Perhaps, her friendship is enough to lure Grace out of hiding. I have no such misgivings about my relationship with Grace. I was the one who drove her away with my selfishness. I doubt my love would be an incentive for her to come out of hiding.

I want to be there for Grace, when she learns the truth about her best friend. As I've already learned and I sure as hell hope Christine knows. Grace doesn't tolerate lairs and she doesn't forgive a lie easily. My coffee has grown cold, but I force down a swallow to moisten the dryness in my mouth. I've decided to follow Christine's example and cut straight to the chase. "You understand...about Grace?"

Christine flashes me a million dollar smile. "Of course. I've always known, but much like you, I was saving the truth for a more convenient time. I'd hoped she'd shift and I'd be the one there for her. It seems that you've beaten me to the punch and now, you've made my job even harder."

I'm bristling with fury over the level of Christine's deception. Her nostrils flare as they detect the acrid burnt gunpowder smell of my rage. I'm returning her smile and keep cool on the exterior, but she isn't fooled and neither is Rod. The boy can barely keep himself together. Somehow though, Christine manages to contain him with a hard glare and a purse of her lips. The magic that makes us what we are spikes and floods the room. She's better than I anticipated. Christine is a master of disguise and she's hidden her alpha power well behind an unassuming mask of blonde curls and wide blue eyes.

I wonder exactly how much of Grace's life has been a lie. That I'm outraged over Christine's deception makes me a self-righteous hypocrite. I lied to Grace in the beginning about many things and have no right to judge. But, I didn't know Grace then like I do now and the lies I told were to protect her.

I guess, much to my shame, I'm more like Coyote than I thought. The ends do justify the means. I had her in my arms. I got her to love me and that's the only end I ever wanted. But, I lied to Grace and in part, that's the reason I'm sitting here in a shabby living room facing off against the only wolves not of my pack that I've ever seen. I'm curious about them, but I'm more desperate to find Grace than I am to continue this little meet and greet.

Christine waves off my anger with a flick of her manicured nails. "Oh, don't look so stunned," she huffs impatiently. "We're family after all. Do you really think your particular branch of the family tree is the only one with a secret? The Goddess wasn't so discerning when it came to doling out curses and gifts. The Prophet received his equal measure, Cousin. You'd know that if your founding fathers hadn't driven him out over two hundred years ago."

"Grace's father...Josiah...he knew?" Christine arches her blonde brows in acknowledgment. Josiah knew and he didn't say anything. He was sending Grace and her mother here to live with them. My whole world and everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down. I know my family's version of history. I know our Great Father, the founder of our pack, had a brother. I know his brother was driven away and fled in shame after the Battle of Tippecanoe was lost. I know what history tells me became of the brother and his children. But, like so many times, history only tells one side of the story.

"All these secrets. Shameful isn't it? Tell me, Cousin. How does it feel to finally know for certain you're not alone in the world? That your whole life has been a lie and all the people in it, liars? Josiah wasn't the only one who knew about us."

"Why?" I can't think of any better question to ask than why. Nathaniel knew. He'd always known and he never breathed a word. Nathaniel was there. He knew what really happened during the battle and the outcome afterwards. I'm failing to understand how he could have kept a secret so big from the pack. We're floundering, barely maintaining a foothold in the world and this whole time he could have saved us from ourselves.

"Funny thing about wolves. They're so territorial, aren't they? Father and son didn't agree on how to handle the truth. Nathaniel saw nothing but bloodshed and bitter wars over the rights to our ancestral lands. Josiah saw nothing but hope in the mutual goal of our continued survival. Nathaniel believed the pack had no place in the outside world. Josiah believed there was no better place to hide than in plain sight. The both of them were right and wrong.

"Grace's mother got scared. She was in on the plan, at first. But, she never showed Josiah's level of commitment. We got her away from the pack, but she was going to go running back and she was going to take Grace with her. We couldn't allow that."

"You took care of the problem."

" Regretfully, yes. We couldn't allow her to return and ruin everything we'd worked for. My pack is weak. Too many have turned away from the old ways. Your pack is in danger of extension because you cling to the old ways. We need each other to survive. Josiah saw that. My pack master saw that. Now, you must see it too.

"Josiah died for what he believed in. He was willing to kill his own father to take control of the pack and lead them into a new era. You killed to protect your old way of life. You killed him and what a senseless waste that was. Don't be surprised. We've been watching your pack since the very beginning. We know everything about you.

"Sacrifices have been made in this battle against our true natures. You want your old ways and we want our more modern lives. But, there's only one way we're both going to get what we want and that's to work together to ensure our mutual survival. You need us and we need you.

"Both sets of Grace's parents died to protect her. Grace's adoptive parents were not chosen by chance. We hid her from Nathaniel. Nathaniel found Grace and kept her hidden in the human world to protect her from her father. Josiah stayed out of Grace's life. We needed her human until the time was right. Josiah was waiting to reveal himself to her. Only, thanks to you, that never happened. You owe us, Han. Grace is more important to us both than you realize. I truly am her friend and I can be yours as well. I can flush her out, but only you can convince her to believe. Grace is the only wolf ever raised as a human since this whole blessed curse began. She is the key, but only you can unlock the door."

I drain whatever is left at the bottom of my coffee mug and let the bitterness distract me from my thoughts. This whole elaborate scheme reeks of Coyote's trickery. So much plotting, so much planning, and I, a pack master by default, have been completely kept in the dark. I want to hate Nathaniel for not telling me. I want to hate Josiah for what he's done to his only daughter. But, despising the dead is a waste of energy and of my time. But, I can take my frustrations out on Coyote, if he's had any part in this.

My need to find Grace overrides my own feelings about what Christine has revealed to me. Grace was born to bridge the gap between the two packs. She is the phoenix rising out of the ashes of our shared pasts. I agree with Christine's theories. We do need to play nice to ensure our mutual survival. But, I can't rationalize her motives. The ends do not justify the means when someone, someone like Grace, has to pay the price.

Chapter 6

I ate lunch at some kitschy restaurant near the beach. I paid way too much for a simple and tasteless sandwich. But, the food serves its purpose. It keeps me from dying and prevents my wolf from taking it upon herself to feed the both of us. I hate to think about what sort of meal she'd scrabble up out of the trash bins.

The rain shows no sign of stopping anytime soon and I sit in the booth staring out at the stormy sea. I've mulled various scenarios over and over in my mind. I thought I was a loner and could handle things just fine on my own. I'm not as much as a lone wolf as I once believed. Just a few short weeks surrounded by pack, by my family, changed all that. I feel as vacant and empty as the rain soaked beach visible through the restaurant's plate glass windows.

I need some companionship, a diversion from my task. The waiter, a cute guy with reddish wavy hair and a tight butt, gives me the hint that he's interested in far more than a tip. I don't want that kind of company and give him the brush off by whipping a twenty out of my purse and dropping it on the table. Completely put off by the vibe he's sending, I gather up my things and retreat to a dry spot outside under an awning.

I don't want to call anybody from Indiana. Spanning the distance between us through the magic of modern technology will only serve to drive the point home of how truly alone I am out here. I have a few acquaintances in L.A. that I've managed to collect over the years. But, I need someone I've got a real connection with. It's time to finally give in and call Christine.

She picks up on the first ring. I truly expected no less. After a screech of ear bursting enthusiasm, Christine gets down to the business of chewing me out for not calling. I haven't even gotten the chance to get a word in edgewise. Christine's tearful snuffles are dramatic and over the top, even for her. Then after the tears, the game of twenty questions begins. She batters me with questions not bothering to give me time to answer one before she hits me with another. "Christine, I'm in L.A.!" I blurt out when she finally paused between questions long enough to take a breath.

"L.A.! WHAT the HELL, Grace!" I jerk the phone away from my ear as she shouts. My heightened senses have played hell with my hearing and I wonder if the string of curse words she shouted has damaged my eardrums. "OMG! You better get your ass over here right now! I mean it, Gracie Mae. NOW! I haven't seen you or heard from you in FOREVER and now you're calling to tell me you're in L.A. and you've been here for days!"

I try to sputter an explanation, but Christine will have none of it. In a way, I suppose her tirade makes me feel better. She missed me. She is way over the top, bawling and accusing me of being the worst friend in the history of friends because I didn't call her the minute I hit town. She's hurt and she's right. I should have called. I overhear her shouting orders at Rod like a drill sergeant. Ordering him to find the blow up mattress and to make room for me in the spare bedroom. I try to interrupt her, but she won't shut up. No matter what she says I won't spend a night in my old bedroom. She thinks I can pick up where I left off. I can't. And it's going to take everything I've got to convince Christine of that.

I end the call feeling guiltier than ever, promising that I'm on my way over and that when I get there I'll explain everything. I won't explain everything, of course. How could I possibly explain the truth of what I am and why I'm in L.A.?

I decide against going back to the hotel to pick up the car and drive to Christine's place. Even in the pouring rain it'll be simpler to walk than to risk the traffic. Han was right about exercise. It does help to burn off my excess energy and keep my wolf calm. I'm only a few miles from the apartment and it's an easy walk.

I'll use the time to compose myself and think up a good, believable story. Christine may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she's got a nose for bullshit. I have to tell her just enough without giving away too much. I just need to decide what to hold back and what to say.

My socks are soaked by the time I get there. I'm standing underneath an overhang contemplating my words. Boundaries are something Christine and I have never had. That ends today. I love her as my BFF, but I can't and won't let her stomp all over me. The things that have happened while I was in Indiana made me stronger and braver than I used to be. I'm not the same person I was. I have to concede to the fact that Christine and I, BFF's or not, we might not even like each other anymore. Sometimes, people change too much and there is no going back.