IM03 - Pandora's Box (20 page)

“Now that that’s settled,” Nicholas said sounding a little more like his old self, “We still have an issue with the manpower to pull this off.”

“We have two other clan mates coming here too,” I said, reminding them of Crystal and Drew.

“They might be too late. It will depend on when this thing decides to show itself. Even if they do show up, we will still need more manpower,” Lysander said. “Connor, I respect your wish to remain on the outside of this. Do you know of anyone who might be willing to assist us?”

“You have brought this enemy to our doorstep, and I fear we’ll not be able to escape the fray.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh.

Aiden touched his father’s shoulder and turned his head, whispering something in Connor’s ear.

Connor nodded and turned back to the group. “I shall make you a deal. It is not my intention to involve the pack in anything out of our realm. My word is law, and they would willingly go to their death if I asked. This is not our fight, and I stand by my original stance. I will not bring the pack to help.  However, I will let them choose to aid you if that is their will. This is a special full moon for us: It is when we welcome new members into the pack. Join us, participate in the events, and meet the people you would seek help from. If you can prove yourself to them, and they wish to help, I will not forbid it.”

Fallon looked like Christmas had come early when Aiden immediately stepped forward and offered his assistance.

Neither Brady nor Connor indicated that they’d be willing to aid our cause. Still, one wolf was better than none. I was happy to see we’d at least gained some support. From what Connor had said, we’d need all the help we could get.

As part of Connor’s agreement, we were invited to stay and enjoy the full moon revelry with the rest of the pack, which would provide a little lighthearted and fun distraction from the uncertainty of our future.

The wildlife preserve not only functioned as their base of operations, it also housed a nice collection of cabins on site for visitors wishing to stay for a few days. Connor put us all up in one of the cabins closest to the main building.

It was a cute, old fashioned log cabin, almost like a real life version of the ones I used to build with Lincoln Logs as a child. Inside it had a small living space, kitchenette, and a curtained off area with a bed and small bathroom. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it was charming nonetheless.

In any case, with the sun about to rise, we needed somewhere safe to rest for the day. Nicholas, Lysander, and I said our goodnights and piled onto the single king-sized bed.

Fallon decided to spend a little more time with Aiden. 

The new recruit’s first hunt was the highlight of this month’s revelry. When I emerged from the cabin at sunset, the wolves were all beginning to gather around the bonfire.

According to Aiden, to become a werewolf, you had to eat the flesh of the Alpha. Once ingested, the curse is introduced to the body like a disease. The potential candidates are then attacked by their soon-to-be brethren, the wounds weakening their immune system’s defenses and allowing the curse to spread. If they survive the attack, their wounds heal rapidly and by the next evening they’re ready for their first hunt.

That kind of made becoming a vampire sound easy. At least you didn’t have to get mauled—though my transformation had been no less gruesome. Months had passed, but I still remembered the pain that had been inflicted on me, and then Lysander’s searing blood rushing through my veins. I wondered if the wolves felt anything similar when they ate the tainted flesh?

The candidate wolves had already been though their initiation the previous night. Four out of six survived, and those four new wolves were just working through their first change when we reached the bonfire where the rest of the pack was congregated.

It looked like we had missed a huge daytime party. The smell of barbequed meat still hung in the air. Near the bonfire, several grills were smoking and the picnic tables had scraps of meat and empty condiment containers on them.

The pack crowded around to witness the first transformation of the new wolves.

I eagerly joined with them. I’d never seen a wolf change before and found the whole process interesting.

It sounded like someone was rapidly cracking his knuckles, a weird, non-echoing pop. The new wolf moaned as his body contorted, but it wasn’t a painful moan—it sounded almost sexual, and it varied in pitch as the popping sound continued. Hair sprouted all over the new wolf’s body and rapidly grew a few inches in just moments. Looking less like a man now, the new wolf bent over on all fours. His arms thinned out, his hands shrank to the size of fists, and his fingers receded into paws. The figure’s ears lengthened and the head slimmed a little, while the nose elongated into an impressive muzzle.

The moaning became a howl, and as the transformation finished a magnificent, large gray wolf sat in front of us.

The crowd cheered for their new member.

Connor congratulated his new wolf with a pat on the head, and the wolf responded by rolling over and exposing his belly and neck.

“He recognizes Connor as the leader,” Aiden said to us. “Exposing your most sensitive places is a sign of submission and trust. Connor in turn recognizes the new recruit as one of his own by acknowledging him and not killing him.”

“You got all of that from the wolf lying down?” Fallon asked.

“Wolves can’t speak. We can howl and bark, but those aren’t words. They’re signals. As animals, we speak in body language. You see that wolf over there? The one with his tail straight out and his rump in the air? He’s resting on his front paws.”

“Yeah,” Fallon and I said in unison.

“What do you think that means?”

“He’s tired?” Fallon said.

“He’s bored?” I said.

Aiden laughed. “He’s excited and ready to hunt. He can hardly contain his energy and is ready to pounce as soon as someone gives the word.”

“Wow, so every posture means something?” Fallon asked.

“Yes. The same goes for human posture.” He winked at her.

“So… what am I telling you?” she asked.

“That I make you nervous,” he said, and reached down to touch her hand. “When you cover your stomach, it’s a protective gesture. You’re unconsciously protecting vital organs. It means you’re nervous.”

Fallon blushed.

“And what is my body language telling you?” I asked with a hit of annoyance.

Aiden smirked. “That you don’t like me hitting on your best friend.”

I nodded. “That, and we have a job to do. Let’s join the others.”

“Connor explained everything to the pack earlier today. They all know who you are, but it’s still up to you to gain their support.”

I nodded and scanned the crowd, looking for signs that some of them might support us. I could only read the facial expressions of those not in wolf form. They looked wary, to say the least, but I hoped they’d be willing to help us.

Without another word, wolves all around us began changing. The air filled with that strange popping sound. It had the effect of nails on a chalkboard to my ears, making me cringe. I couldn’t imagine my body contorting and changing the way theirs did. It seemed so unnatural. Then again, vampires were just as unnatural.

“My turn to change too,” Aiden said to Fallon. He pulled his shirt over his head as he trotted off to join the rest of the wolves by the bonfire.

 “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of converting for a guy,” I said with a laugh.

Fallon giggled and smacked me on the arm. “I can appreciate the scenery, can’t I?”

“What are you going to do during the hunt?”

“Dunno, probably get some sleep. I haven’t gotten enough of that lately. Besides, there’s nothing else for me to do here right now. The wolves are off hunting. I can’t really do that.”

 “Yeah, I understand. I’d much rather catch up on my beauty rest too, but we have to mingle with the wolves for a bit and make friends if we want their help. I have to stay back at the bonfire.”

“Be safe.”

“I’m a vampire,” I scoffed. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“You’re Alyssa.” She gave me a stern, parental look. “Vampire or not, something always happens to you.”

“Okay, mom. I’ll be safe.” I chuckled and turned to join the pack.

The assembled pack began to cheer for their leader’s transformation. Connor raised his arms and silenced the crowd. They hushed instantly, leaving only the sound of the popping bonfire to break the still of the night. Without a word, he removed his shirt and undid his belt. All eyes watched as he stripped down and tossed his clothes aside.

Without a word or moan or any indication of discomfort, he began to transform. Dark hair sprouted all over his body. The odd popping sound began and his limbs shrank and contorted. Still he made no sound. In a matter of minutes, he’d turned into a gorgeous solid black wolf. His height was equal to that of a large dog — a Great Dane or an Irish Wolfhound, with added bulk around the neck and front paws. Though the height was different, his general shape was what you might expect from a majestic gray wolf.

He had a large, wide face and muzzle. A thick neck with a mane of coarse fur. His triangular ears stuck straight up in the air, twitching slightly from side to side like a radar dish picking up a signal.

Once the transformation had completed, he threw his head back and let out a long, high-pitched howl.

The rest of the pack, both in their human and wolf forms, joined in. It was an extremely loud chorus—so loud, in fact, that I had to cover my ears. I just hoped I hadn’t insulted them.

If I had, though, they showed no signs of it. They were ready and excited for the hunt.

As soon as the howling had stopped, Connor took off into the tree line with a hunting pack of about twenty wolves close behind.  

Not many remained at the bonfire. Ian and Zuri were there with us, but as soon as the wolves took off, they headed back to the main building. A few of the older wolves remained behind, warming themselves next to the bonfire.

Connor had told us that it was up to us to make friends, so it was time to go and do just that. I walked up to an old, gray-haired man who looked to be in his eighties. His face was a roadmap of wrinkles, yet his eyes still had a youthful glow. He wore a thick, long-sleeved red plaid shirt with a white tee underneath and a pair of faded jeans that ended with a dirty pair of steel-toe boots. He sat on a log near the fire, staring blankly into it until he saw me approach.

“You not running in the woods with the new recruits?” he asked before I could say hello.

Lysander startled me by replying first. I hadn’t even realized he’d followed me. “I’m afraid we would provide too much of a distraction.”

“We’re more the solo hunting type,” I added.

“Suit yourself. Hunting or not, a good run in the woods will soothe your soul, and by the sounds of things, you all could use a little of that.” The old man turned and stuck his hand out. “The name’s Joe. Old Joe.”

“Lysander,” he shook the old wolf’s hand. “And this is my mate, Alyssa,” he indicated me on his right. “And my brother, Nicholas.” He indicated to his left.

Nicholas was like a shadow. I hadn’t seen or heard him approach.

“A pleasure,” Old Joe said.

“Why aren’t you out there, Old Joe?” I asked. I loved the name. It had an instant way of disarming you. How could anyone with the nickname of ‘old’ be a bad guy?

He fixed me with a wide smile that revealed a couple of missing teeth, with the rest stained yellow. “Old Joe’s getting a little too long in the tooth for huntin’. I took a run earlier, but I’m just not as young as I used to be. I can’t keep up with the pups anymore.”

 I’d been under the impression that the wolves shared immortality with the vampires, but that apparently wasn’t the truth.

“We don’t have the same longevity as you vampires.” He laughed. He must have inferred my unasked question. Those wolves really were good at reading people’s body language. I was fairly certain I had confusion written all across my face.  “Our batteries tend to run their course after oh… say… ‘bout a thousand or so years.”

“So you eventually just get old and die, huh?” It sounded a lot nicer in my head, but when I said it, it came out like a child being told there was no such thing as Santa.

“Think of it like dog years,” Old Joe said. “Only in reverse.”

“So for every ten years or so, you age one year?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as dumb as I felt.

“Give or take. It’s not an exact number, but that’s about right for us full-blooded wolves,” Old Joe said proudly, puffing his chest out.

“But what about the ones you turn? The … er… half-bloods. Is that what you call them?” It might have been considered a rude question, but I had to ask anyway. What can I say, I’m naturally curious.

“Call them what you will, it really only matters for breeding. But as far as age goes, it depends on the wolf, really. I’ve seen some last as long as full bloods, and some that peter out around six or seven hundred years. That’s of course assuming they haven’t gotten into any trouble.” He flashed me that snaggle-toothed grin at me again.