Chapter Six

Charlie

 

The morning air felt cold against my bare arms. My eyelids drooped with the lack of caffeine. It was entirely too early to be awake. It might’ve been okay if I was headed to high school as I knew it. But this wasn’t Hunters Point High School in Portland. This was Paradise. And I was headed to my first day of home-schooling in the middle of the woods with a class full of werewolves.

Branches slid across my thighs, leaving scratches as I pushed through the thicket. I ignored them, still not fully awake enough to walk and brush them aside at the same time.

“Hey, Charlie.” Carter veered over and fell into step beside me.

A few steps ahead, some of the other kids walked in twos and threes, whispering—probably about me. That was fine. But one of them talking to me—I hadn’t expected that. In the wake of my disaster shopping trip yesterday, Carter’s friendliness only put me more on edge.

“Morning,” I mumbled, darting a worried glance.

Carter had his hands in his pockets, like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

“How are … things?” he asked.

“Um.” Things? What things? And why was he talking to me? So far, he’d kept his distance, other than that first trip we’d taken into town when he’d complained right in front of me that his beta role had been stolen from him by an undeserving newbie. I was pretty sure that meant we weren’t friends. “Good, I guess.”

Was he here because Regan had finally figured out my secret? I’d been up half the night worried that she’d put two and two together. After smelling a vamp yesterday while we shopped and Bevin’s accusations about Owen and me, I was positive she’d figure it all out given enough time. Regan was a lot of things, but she wasn’t stupid.

Carter cleared his throat and my stomach tightened. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you. There’s something that—”

“What is new girl doing here?” Bevin, Carter’s sister, appeared, along with Lane, the girl with the scar on her face. Neither one looked happy to see me.

“She’s in our class now, Bev,” Carter said.

“Can’t we get her a different teacher?” Lane asked. Her eyes were bloodshot as they roamed over me. “That’s what they do for special needs kids, right? They separate them?”

“Shut up, Lane,” Carter snapped. I blinked, unsure why he’d spoken up for me. Was he taking my side?

“Whatever,” Bevin mumbled, rolling her eyes.

The trail opened up into a small clearing. Everyone else was already gathered—including Regan. I didn’t meet her eyes.

At the head of the crowd gathered, Dad stood dressed in faded Dickies and a flannel shirt. Between that and his peppery five o’clock shadow he looked every bit the stereotypical mountain man. He looked from face to face and cleared his throat.

“Now that we’re all here,” he began. “Let’s get started. For those of you that used the break as time to forget everything we’ve learned, today will be review. For others,” he paused, his eyes flickering to me, “it might be more of a challenge.”

Some mutters went up, mostly under the cover of a cough or behind a hand. Still, Dad’s sharp eyes pierced the guilty parties before continuing.

“Today we are hunting. You’ll work in pairs, but I don’t want to hear that your hunting partner hindered your catch. Bring me the biggest game you can find. The winner is excused from PT.”

A few of the guys hooted and slapped a high-five with their neighbor. The girls didn’t seem as excited but they looked determined to win. No one wanted to PT, it seemed.

“What’s PT?” I whispered to Carter.

“Physical training,” he whispered back without looking over.

He was frowning and I followed his gaze, curious what had him so distracted. He stared at Regan like he was keeping a secret—from her or for her, I didn’t know.

Across the loose circle, Regan shifted her feet, completely unaware of whatever mental energy Carter was streaming at her. She stared at our dad with a mixture of determination and concentration. Her wolf seemed to shimmer at the edges of her skin, like she was anxious to shift.

“Pair up,” Dad instructed. Carter moved away, going to stand beside another boy around his age. Ronnie, someone had called him. Bevin and Lane took a small step toward each other. One by one, everyone claimed a partner. No one moved toward me.

I gulped and lifted a shaky arm. Dad’s eyes found my hand.

“Yes, Charlie, what is it?”

Everyone turned to me. Silence fell. I swallowed against the lump in my throat. I was mortified to be calling out like this in front of everyone, but I had to know. “Um, when you say ‘game’…?”

“You will be hunting live prey. And you will kill it and bring it to me,” he said.

I nodded, my worst fears confirmed. Someone snickered. I was pretty sure it was Bevin, but I didn’t look. I knew if I did, I’d lose it. I was shaking as it was. Live game? And they wanted me to kill it? My horror must’ve shown through. Dad regarded me with a hard look and then turned to Regan.

“Go with your sister,” Dad barked.

Regan’s face registered disappointment, resignation—but not surprise. “Yes, sir.”

“Get going. Bring your catch back here. You have one hour.” Dad waved everyone away.

Regan walked up to me, her shoulders missing the determined set they’d held before. “You ready?” she asked.

I nodded, trying to appear confident, unruffled. “Yeah, sure.”

Regan led me away from the clearing, back into the sunlight that shone on the hill below our house. She cut across the grass, heading for the road.

“Um, aren’t we supposed to be hunting? I think all of the animals are probably in the woods, back there.” I hooked a thumb behind us.

“The woods on this side are better for it,” she explained without looking back. I hurried to keep up. “I’ve been sniffing out a buck and his mate for weeks on my morning run.”

“Deer?” My voice came out a squeak.

She shot me a look that was a clear challenge to man up. “Dad said to bring the biggest. I can’t let anyone else beat me, uh, us. We’re the alphas.”

“Right.” I decided not to point out that technically only one of us could be alpha. It didn’t seem like the time, especially after our fight yesterday. For the hundredth time this morning, I wished I could skip school and just train with Owen. At least I’d be with someone who didn’t dismiss the very idea of me.

“Are you coming? The deer are this way,” Regan said, yanking me out of my daydreams. I hurried to catch up, forcing myself to focus.

“Deer,” I repeated, as if just saying the word would conquer my revulsion of the idea of killing one.

Regan didn’t answer.

We crossed the road and stepped into the canopy. “We should shift now. We’re quieter as wolves.”

“All right. Um, Regan, about this hunting thing …”

She softened. “The first time’s always the hardest.”

“You had a hard time, too?” I looked at her, hopeful, glad I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Maybe if I could just explain it, and Regan could back me up, Dad would change his mind.

“I was five, so it was a little different,” she explained.

“You made your first kill when you were five?” All I could do was gape at her.

She shrugged. “It was only a squirrel. Not a big deal. Anyway, if you don’t come back with something Dad will freak. And not just on you. I’m supposed to be teaching you. If I can’t do that, I don’t deserve to be alpha regardless of the contest. Charlie?” She waited until I met her gaze. “You can do this.” I nodded an agreement that I didn’t feel. “Just do what I do,” Regan added.

“Which is?”

“We’re going to follow their scent. When we find them, we’ll lay low until we’re close enough to make a quick kill. Go for the throat. If you can’t make the angle, go for the back leg joint. It will make running harder and they won’t get far even if they do try to bolt. If you can lock your jaw, do it. Then you won’t have to chase them at all.”

“All right,” I whispered. My hands curled and uncurled, pumping against the nerves I felt. I could do this. I had no choice.

“It’s best if you give in to your werewolf side, once you taste the blood.”

I remembered how Owen had said something about giving into my animal side. He’d never explained what that meant exactly. “Why’s that?” I asked.

“It’ll make it taste … good.”

I blanched. “Animal blood?”

“Yeah, don’t tell the vamps,” she muttered. “They think it sets them apart.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but Regan didn’t seem to need an answer. She squared her shoulders. “Ready?”

I swallowed hard. “Ready.”

We shifted at the same time.

The first part of the hunt was almost fun. We ran, taking turns letting each other choose the direction, stopping every so often to sniff out a strange scent. We signaled each other with low barks and head nods. It was kind of amazing, actually, to be so in sync with another wolf. It had never been this way with my mother.

But then Regan must’ve caught the scent she was after. Her head shot up and her eyes narrowed in concentration. She turned a complete three-sixty, sniffing the air, and then her ears pricked back and forth. She gave a short bark and took off. That was the signal.

I ran after her, bounding over thick shrubs and exposed roots. I was good at this part. My paws made no sound. My breaths were shallow and quiet. A few yards in, I caught the scent she followed and felt my muscles tense in anticipation. I steeled myself against the nerves and concentrated on the chase.

When Regan halted, so did I. We crouched behind a grove of trees. My ears flicked back and forth, trying to get a sense of what had stopped her. I couldn’t hear anything. The smell hadn’t gotten stronger. At least that I could tell.

I thought of Owen and what he’d said about my extra senses. I closed my eyes. Seconds ticked by. Regan was still beside me. I knew she wasn’t looking at me but over the hedge of brush that concealed us. Watching, waiting. Gradually, a sense of something reached me. Air shifted around me. So slight it was almost imperceptible, but there it was.

I opened my eyes again. Regan’s lip curled up in a silent growl. Her eyes flickered to me and then back to our prey. I peeked through a hole in the hedge. Just ahead, a pair of deer wandered this way.

Their black, beady eyes darted here and there, in tandem with their ears. They were on edge, watching for hidden danger. The male was broad chested with a large rack of antlers. Full grown and strong. He walked a step ahead of the female, protective and alert.

The female stopped to nibble on a leafy branch that overhung their pathway. She stood slightly away from the buck, and I got a clear look at her. She was spotted white with flecks of gray in the center. She shifted again, moving on from her snack, wandering closer to where Regan and I lay in wait. Her scent intensified. My heart beat faster. I remembered what Regan had said, about giving into my animal side; that it would make this easier.

She took another two steps—a little closer.

I dug deep, not even sure what I was looking for. The deer shifted, exposing her throat. For a split second, the human in me fell away, and there was only my wolf; a wild, instinctual beast. And, in front of me, the perfect prey.

Hunger rose in the back of my throat, making a trail to my belly. Something twisted there. Desire. Anticipation. I fell into a crouch, my muscles coiling. Beside me, Regan was stiff. Any second now…

Go!

I could feel the command so deep in my bones, she might as well have yelled it. Regan sprang from our hiding place a split second before I did. She leapt at the buck, her teeth catching his lower throat. Her snarl echoed in my ears, followed by the sound of flesh ripping apart.

I faltered. The animal instinct faded, and I was myself again. Charlie, a seventeen-year-old high school senior who was sometimes a wolf. A girl who had never killed anything except house spiders.

The buck fell underneath Regan’s locked jaws, writhing and braying. The female froze.

At the last second, I altered course and lowered my head, plowing into her like a linebacker. I landed on top of her, pinning her with my paws. She writhed and stretched, frantically trying to free herself.

Beside me came the sound of gnashing teeth and bone grinding. Regan ripped and tore at the buck. He jerked twice and let out a strangled cry, and then he was still. I squeezed my eyes shut. The female twisted unexpectedly. I felt my paw give, scratching deeply into her shoulder before losing purchase and falling away. She slipped out, twisting to her feet, and bolted before I could regain my balance.

Regan growled at me with wild eyes and a red-stained jaw. I cringed away from the sight of her—and the carnage behind her. She shook her head and bolted after the female.

The leaves shook in her wake, and then everything was still.

I wanted to run away, to shift back to human and escape. But I knew if I did, the consequences—for both of us—wouldn’t be good. So I stayed downwind from the dead buck and waited for Regan to return. I whined and whimpered, with my chin on my paws and my belly in the dirt. What would Dad say when I returned empty-handed? Probably nothing; the look in his eyes would say it all.

I didn’t want to think about it. I tried thinking about anything else, to take my mind off it. I wondered what Owen was doing right now. Probably something similar, though not with animals. I shuddered. As much as I enjoyed his company—preferred it to most of the werewolves I’d met so far—seeing Regan take down this buck had been a blatant reminder of Owen’s diet.

Something white caught my eye through the trees. I sat up, instantly alert. Whatever it was disappeared from view, shifting against the leaves and branches that separated us. It couldn’t be Regan, not with that pale coloring. I rose and wandered closer to the edges of the trees. Far out in the forest, where sunlight was dim and the trees were thick, something pale moved. The smell hit me just as I caught sight of a face.

Vampire.

It stared back at me, crimson eyes easily focused despite the distance that separated us. I blinked at him, too surprised to feel any malice or danger. I didn’t recognize the man, but he was clearly a vampire. His red eyes and pale—almost ghostly—complexion were easy to make out. He had a shock of dark hair that hung over his forehead. I wondered what he was doing out here, this far outside the vampire’s boundary. Was he after me? Or Regan? Was she in danger?

I hadn’t been afraid until that thought dawned on me. I couldn’t let Regan get hurt.

What if he knew about Owen and me? What if he was here to tell her? That scared me even more. It dawned me that Regan hadn’t smelled me during our shopping trip after all—she’d smelled this guy—our stalker. The realization didn’t make me feel much better.

I took a step. And another. I had every intention of chasing him down and forcing him to tell me what the heck he was doing out here. But then he stepped back and disappeared around the thick trunk of a tree. I paced back and forth, searching for a glimpse, a movement. But there was nothing. He was gone.

Behind me, branches quivered. The sound of leaves being flattened reached my ears. I ducked behind a hedge and lowered myself, ready to pounce on the newcomer, if necessary. A moment later, Regan appeared. She dragged the female—now dead—behind her. A thick trail of blood marked their path. She stopped in front of me and let the deer fall into the dirt between us. Its eyes were open and staring.

Regan bent down, nudging the carcass with her nose, eyes fastened to mine. Then, her message delivered, she turned and went to the buck, gathering a sizable amount of its flesh into her teeth. I wasn’t sure whether to be disgusted or grateful. In the end, I was both.

Somehow, despite the nausea that rolled in my stomach, I managed to drag the female deer through the woods and back to Dad. Everyone else was already there. Bevin and a couple of others looked impatient, but they stood and stared as Regan, and then I, appeared—dragging the deer in our mouths.

Carcasses littered the clearing. I tried not to look; the smell was enough. I dragged the deer as far as I could before the sight and smell grew to be too much. I dropped it into the dirt, resisting the urge to spit against the sharp tang of blood in my mouth.

“Well done, Regan,” Dad said. “Charlie, a deer your first time out. I’m impressed.”

I bowed my head as Regan’s form rippled at the edges and her human form reappeared. I could tell he was waiting for me to shift or at least to explain how I’d done it, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t my kill.

I’d failed. It would be much easier to withstand the humiliation as a wolf.

“Regan, you must be a good teacher,” Dad said.

“Thanks,” she said. I could feel them watching me, but I didn’t meet their eyes.

“Is Charlie okay? She hasn’t shifted back,” Dad said, talking about me as if I wasn’t even there. But I didn’t care. As long as they didn’t ask me about the kill.

“She’s fine. Just a little shaken,” Regan said. “I think she feels better as a wolf right now.”

Dad nodded. “Understandable after a first kill.” He looked down at the deer and then back at Regan. “The buck yours?” She nodded, her chest puffing out in obvious pride. “Hmm. A little messy, but it’ll do.”

He didn’t seem to notice Regan’s expression as it shuttered closed against his dismissal. “All right, everyone. Regan and Charlie are today’s challenge winners. You know what that means. PT time. Ten miles, the usual track. Everyone shifts. Stay clear of the boundary line and when you’re done, shower up. Get some rest for tomorrow. We’ll be tracking.”

A collective groan sounded. Dad ignored it. Bodies drifted toward the trail, shifting and shimmering as each one became their wolf.

Dad looked back at Regan and me. “You are both excused for the day.”

“Both of us?” Regan asked.

“Charlie’s had an eventful day, what with her first kill. And you won the challenge. I don’t mind excusing you both, just this once. But don’t fall behind in your workout schedule.”

“I won’t,” Regan muttered.

“Come see me at the office once you’re showered. I have some paperwork that needs looking over,” he told her.

She nodded her agreement and Dad patted me as he left. I tracked him with my eyes all the way out of the woods. Even then, I listened for the retreat of his footsteps long after they were silent. When I was sure he was gone, I shifted.

“Thank you,” I said.

Regan looked up from where she’d been gathering handfuls of moss. “Whatever.”

“I’m serious. You didn’t have to go after that deer for me. And you didn’t have to cover for me with Dad. I appreciate it.”

“It was just as much for me as for you.” She continued her moss gathering.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Someone will be here to retrieve the animals. Recover what meat is good for eating and skin them for blankets and such. We don’t waste when we can avoid it,” she explained.

“And the moss?” I asked.

She knelt over the buck and began layering the moss over its body like a blanket. “It keeps the animal fresh and the bugs out until someone can get over here.”

“Is that our job?” I asked, kneeling to help her with the female without waiting for an answer.

Regan worked in silence for a moment and then said quietly, “A good alpha doesn’t take a day off, even when it’s offered.”

The words sounded recited, memorized. I wondered which of her parents had told her and then realized it was probably both.

We worked in silence for a few minutes, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the differences in our childhoods. Regan seemed to have a soft spot for her mom but our dad was harsh, especially to Regan. We finished with the moss and rose together. I dusted my hands on my pants, remembering too late the layer of blood underneath the dirt. My hands came away streaked in dirty blood. The sight of it coating my hands reminded me of the vampire I’d spotted earlier. I opened my mouth, fully intent on telling Regan about him, but then thought better of it.

If I did that, it would only perpetuate her belief that Owen’s people had killed her mother. Or bring me one step closer to exposing my secret friendship. I decided neither one was a smart move. Not today.

Her expression set with satisfaction, Regan moved toward the trail that led home and I followed, my thoughts drifting back to our dad and his cold reaction to Regan earlier. It bothered me to see her hurting. Finally, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “I get that he’s hard to please, but why do you try so hard?” I asked.

She stopped mid-step and stood there for a long moment, shoulders stiff. Slowly, she turned to face me. For a split second, her expressed was pained. No, that wasn’t right. Injured, maybe. I remembered how Dad had brushed off her win today. How he always seemed to do that with her. But then whatever vulnerability she’d allowed to show vanished. In its place was a coldness I’d only ever seen her use on the vamps. Her enemies.

“Not having a dad, you wouldn’t understand,” she said icily.

Then she turned on her heel and strode off.

I blinked, more surprised by her sudden change in demeanor than anything. Slowly, the cut her words left behind opened until it became a deep slice.

If I’d been tempted let my guard down and attempt a sisterly bond, Regan’s comment cured me. I ran for home, not caring who saw the hot tears streaming down my cheeks.