Chapter Eleven

Tuesday, Mr. Robinson announced there would be a huge Chem test at the end of the week, so that night Vaughn, Skyler, and I were studying in my living room. Granny brought out snacks and then sat in her favorite chair to read a biography of a dead president.

Vaughn chugged a big glass of water before I’d had more than a few sips of mine. Then he started on the mini meatballs, which were little balls of deliciousness.

When I looked up, the food was gone. Granny stared at Vaughn for a minute. “Still hungry?”

He nodded. “I didn’t have much lunch.”

I raised my eyebrow at Skyler. Vaughn had eaten an entire meat lover’s pizza at lunch. The pack’s grocery bill must be unreal.

Vaughn caught us staring and blushed. “If that’s okay,” he said. “Why don’t I order something for delivery instead?” he asked, clearly embarrassed.

“We have plenty,” Granny assured him. “You know I love to cook.”

Granny bustled off to the kitchen and then returned with a heaping plate of food for my boyfriend.

“There’s something different about you,” she said.

My head snapped up. We hadn’t told Granny or anyone about what had happened at The Last Stop. Part of it was because I didn’t want her to worry, and part of it was because Vaughn becoming a werewolf wasn’t my secret to tell.

Vaughn took a gulp of his smoothie. “Like what?”

“Like your appetite,” she said.

He laughed, but it sounded forced. “Growth spurt, I’m sure.”

“Didn’t they feed you enough when you were in Texas?” Granny asked. It was a casual question, but Vaughn’s whole body went tense.

Whenever someone mentioned the vampire hunting portion of the summer, Vaughn’s expression went blank. The last time I’d seen him trying to hide that much pain and fear was when someone mentioned his mom.

Granny went to her bedroom to read, and I decided it was time to ask my boyfriend a few questions.

“Are you ready to talk yet?” I asked Vaughn. “Because I am.”

Skyler scooped up her backpack and stood. “That’s my cue to make a quick exit. Night!” She left like she was being chased by bears. Or werewolves.

After she was gone, there was a long silence, then Vaughn started talking, stumbling over his words in his haste to get them out. “It happened the first time I was on patrol alone,” he said. “I-I knew. Knew it was a werewolf. Knew that the legends were true.”

“But you didn’t tell anyone? Not Rose or Thorn? Or anyone from the PAC?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t trust anyone.” I winced. Including me. I tried to cover it, but he noticed. “Tansy, I trust you, I do. I was just freaking out.”

“Where’d you go when you left Texas?” I asked. “The twins said you didn’t go with them to PAC headquarters.”

“To talk to Connor.”

“Why Connor?” Why Connor and not me? That’s what I really wanted to ask but didn’t.

“When he came back to the States, he told me the truth about why he’d left, so I already knew he was a werewolf when I left to train.”

“When was he bitten?” I asked then added, “Or is that impolite to ask?”

“He was born a werewolf, not made.”

“Connor has been a werewolf for as long as we’ve known him?” I asked.

“Yes. You can be bitten and turn, or you can be born a werewolf. Like the Mariotti witches are born witches.”

“And then what?”

“I holed up at Connor’s, feeling sorry for myself,” he said. “The guys in the pack taught me how to control the shift, so that when my first shift happened, I’d know what to do.”

“It looked painful,” I said.

“It was.” He hesitated, then asked, “Does it matter to you?”

“Does what matter to me?” I’d lost track of the conversation.

“That I’m a werewolf.”

“Why would that matter?” I asked. “Does it matter to you that I’m a striga vie?”

Instead of answering me, he put his hands on my hips and drew me close. “Not. One. Bit,” he said, accentuating each word with a brief kiss.

I wound my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp.

“That feels good,” he said in a low voice, his lips a breath away from mine. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. Vaughn was a great kisser, and he spent some time reminding me just how good.

…

After Vaughn and I said good night at his car, which involved a good ten minutes of him leaning me up against his Camry and kissing me senseless, I went back inside. I threw myself on the couch and fiddled with my phone for a few minutes. I put the name of the dive bar from the other night into the search engine, but there wasn’t a lot of information. It had been open since late spring. It had previously been a family-owned restaurant called Ultima Parida, but it had closed suddenly and then reopened as The Last Stop. I googled the previous owners and found a small article about their sudden departure. In its previous life, The Last Stop had been a Mexican restaurant owned by a husband-and-wife team. I couldn’t find much information about who the new owners were or what had happened to the old ones.

The online police blotter showed there’d been a few fights at night when the restaurant started serving more alcohol than food. It wasn’t technically a dive bar, but it was definitely a close relative.

It seemed like there had to be more to the story. What was I missing? I wasn’t Nancy Drew, but the next full moon was only a few weeks away, so I was about to go all girl detective.

…

Granny was hosting the Old Crones Book Club, but it hadn’t started yet, because they were waiting for Mrs. Nelson, who was habitually late. Not just for book club, but for her life. Granny must have invited Rose and Thorn, because they were lounging on the chaise as they flipped through the book club’s latest read.

“I’m glad the full moon is over,” Edna said.

“Strange things occur during a full moon,” Granny said. “It’s not just when werewolves come out.”

I stared into space. I had approximately four weeks to figure out who was killing werewolves in my realm and why. It didn’t seem to be nearly enough time. I glanced up and noticed she was staring at me. “What?”

“Just making conversation,” she said mildly, but I was pretty sure Granny suspected something.

“Speaking of werewolves,” I said casually. “Did you hear anything about a werewolf getting murdered?” I wasn’t revealing Vaughn’s secret by that question, and I was smart enough to know I’d need all the information I could get. The OCBC had a wealth of knowledge among them, and I needed to tap into it if I had any hope of figuring this out.

Before she could answer, a loud, mournful howl echoed throughout the hills to the east.

“That doesn’t sound like coyotes,” I said.

“It’s not,” Thorn said. “Don’t you know the sound of a wolf’s howl?”

I shook my head. I didn’t, but I had a feeling I was going to get used to the sound.

“Vampires and wolves are natural-born enemies,” Thorn replied.

I glared at her, then pointed at my chest. “Again. Not a vampire.”

A second howl and then a third. More voices joined the others. The sound continued for several minutes until all but one dropped away.

“If they aren’t coyotes, what are they?” I asked. “There aren’t any wolves running around the suburbs of Southern California.”

“Not wolves, either,” Granny replied.

“Are you trying to tell me that my neighbor is a werewolf?” I shouldn’t be surprised, but something about the news made me jittery. I tapped my foot while I waited for her answer.

Another howl rang out, and the sound sent a shiver up my spine. The low, mournful sound was full of sadness, but mixed with it was a clear feeling of rage.

“How many werewolves live in Southern California?” I asked. “And who’s in charge of them?”

“They’re part of the PAC, too,” Granny said. “At least that’s my understanding from Rose. But I don’t know who the head of the local werewolf pack is.”

My life was just getting back to the new version of normal. Sure, I couldn’t stay at the beach all day, but I could still go to school, eat garlic, and hang out with my friends. Nobody knew why the rules didn’t apply to striga vies, but I was grateful I didn’t have all the vampire weaknesses. At least as long as I refrained from drinking someone dry. And now I had to deal with werewolves?

“I’ll ask Rose and Thorn for more details,” I said, but I wondered what else the twins had told my grandmother that I didn’t know about. It wasn’t like I hadn’t figured out that there were other paranormal creatures. The existence of the Paranormal Activities Committee assured me that there were more than vampires lurking.

I grabbed every book Granny owned regarding werewolves and settled in to learn more about their history.

We spent the rest of the night in near silence, reading and listening to the werewolves mourn their dead.