Hope(less) (5 page)

“Deal,” he agreed.

He’d agreed too easily.  Was that a hint of a smile on his
mouth?  Why did I feel like I just got the raw end of the deal?  I’d have to
play my cards carefully so I didn’t find myself hitched in some weird backwoods
werewolf custom.

Sam sat at the worn oak table set in the middle of the
sunlit kitchen.  He scowled at its dull surface and, when I walked into the
room, transferred the glum look to me.  I shook my head at his scowl.  Ignoring
it, I went to make him his morning coffee.

After two years of almost monthly visits to the Canadian
werewolf community, this weekend would be my last and he didn’t like it.  Happily,
I hadn’t met a single werewolf that had any type of pull on me.

The way I figured it, I’d fulfilled my end of our deal.  I’d
finished my final exams yesterday, and passed all my classes, of course.  I’d
opted not to attend my graduation on Saturday.  They could mail me my diploma. 
I’d rather not put this visit off for another week.  I wanted to move on.  After
this weekend, I’d start working to save up what I could before moving on to
college.

His familiar morning scowl didn’t solely relate to the end
of our agreement.  Sam and mornings didn’t mesh well.  I’d realized that as
soon as I’d moved in with him.  Once we developed our simple routine, he
tolerated mornings better.  I woke up first and started a pot of coffee, not my
drink of preference in the morning.

Sam without his coffee amused me, but it felt slightly cruel
to witness.  He stumbled and mumbled until he had his caffeine.  With his
werewolf metabolism, I doubted it really did anything for him, but he drank the
pot himself anyway.  I, on the other hand, usually grabbed a quick bowl of
cereal or oatmeal after an even quicker shower and ran out the door for school,
leaving him to his “Elder” obligations during the day.

I worked at a day spa as a receptionist after school as much
as I could.  After moving in with Sam, I’d discovered having work commitments
ensured he couldn’t talk me into going to the compound more than we’d bargained. 
Sam was a great role model for responsibility and planning.  It’s what he did
for the pack.  Knowing I’d need the means to get an education and support
myself, he never tried talking me out of working.  So, I worked and I tried to
bank enough money to hold me over while I went to school.

Staying with Sam had been good for both of us, I thought as
I measured out the coffee grounds.  I kept him company outside the compound,
and he provided me with the information I needed about the werewolves and the
pack community over the last two years.  Although Sam had shared so much of the
werewolves’ life and culture, I knew I still didn’t know everything.  And he’d
kept me safe.

As an Elder of the pack, Sam was extremely down to earth and
wise.  He carefully thought through all decisions with a deliberate calm that I
admired.  He didn’t think of himself when making any decision, only the pack.  The
welfare of the pack ruled his life.  Thankfully, even though he hadn’t managed
to tie me to anyone, he considered me part of the pack.  That meant, when I
talked, he listened with his full attention, which I really did like.

Coffee brewing, I leaned against the counter and openly
smirked at Sam.  “Come on, don’t be pouty about this.  We made a deal and I
stuck to it.  I’ve met more man-dogs,” my made up term amused him, “than I can
remember.  Some, even twice.”

I pushed away from the counter walking behind his chair.  Resting
my forearms on his shoulders, I rolled them outward pressing down with my full
weight.  The tension slowly left his shoulders and I rested my chin on his
head.  Yeah, I was that short compared to him.

“Tell me you’re going to be okay without me here,” I
whispered.

I couldn’t remember my real grandpa, but over the last two
years, Sam had filled the roll to the letter, despite our rough start.  I knew
he’d managed his own coffee in the morning for years before I moved in with
him, but I still wondered what he’d do.

He sighed gustily and reached back to pat my cheek, the
extent of affection I allowed with hm.  It had been a gradual progress to work
up to it.  He knew most physical contact made me uncomfortable.  He understood
it and never seemed offended by it.  I’d held myself away from people for so
long, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be completely comfortable with casually touching
anyone.

“You know I will,” he said sounding tired.  He shoulders
sagged beneath my touch and he said, “I don’t understand why you won’t go to
the community college here.  Out of state is so expensive.”

I stood up, moving away from him and said, “No, it won’t
be.  I have scholarships and aid because of being a foster.”  I made my way to
the coffee enjoying the warm breeze that brushed past the kitchen curtains to
swirl around the room.  As I poured him a cup, I continued defending my
choice.  “Besides, you know very well why I’m going out of state.”

It was an old argument.  My place in pack society, forever
the bachelorette, bothered me.  I wanted out.  No other female went through such
a long Introduction period.  Over the last two years, I’d become the one all
the guys wanted to meet and hoped to Claim by the end of the weekend.  Though
they treated me with kind hopefulness, my attitude toward finding a mate hadn’t
changed.  I didn’t want one.  So two years of being the family disappointment
was enough.

“I want my own life before someone tries to take it over. 
Sam, I’ve always had to follow other people’s rules.  I want to live by my own
rules for a while.”

Sam harrumphed, “What rules have I ever enforced on you?”

Handing him his cup, I gave him a steady look.

“Besides insisting on the Introductions,” he mumbled.  He
dropped his gaze to the proffered cup, accepting it with a lack of enthusiasm.

Not meeting my eyes, he blew on the brew, turning the cup in
a circle on the table before he began to sip it slowly.  He seemed unexpectedly
guilty for such an innocent remark.  Suspicious, I continued to study his face
waiting for him to look up again.

Though I chafed at his rules, they were simple enough.  Go
to the Introductions.  Spend the weekends getting to know the pack and the pack
laws.  Never stay out past dark without a way to get home, which meant a ride
from Sam since owning my own car made him uncomfortable.  How could he not see he
completely controlled my life with those rules?

Though I understood the reason for them, it didn’t make them
more palatable.  The very real draw men felt when near me had only grown
stronger as I matured, making time alone risky.  Sam had insisted on enrolling
me in self-defense classes, which had come in handy until the instructor
started suggesting one on one training sessions a bit too loudly in class. 
Before bailing on the class though, I’d learned enough to keep men at bay, but
not werewolves.  Even knowing I had no protection against them other than Sam
didn’t stop me from wanting to try it out on my own.  Although Sam’s rules were
simple, they weren’t mine.

“It won’t be safe,” Sam interrupted my thoughts.  He looked
up from his half-empty cup.  “You know it won’t be safe.”

“Sam, I’ll get a dog.”  I could see by his expression that
he was gearing up for another round in an old debate.  Why couldn’t he
understand that I’d rather get a dog than be mated to a werewolf?

Hurrying around him for the bathroom down the hall, I called
back over my shoulder, “I better go shower.  We don’t want to keep the wolves
waiting.” I spun into the bathroom, shutting the door with a snick to stop any
further objections.

*    *    *    *

Just before dinnertime, I pushed open the door of Sam’s old
pickup and ignoring its groan of protest climbed out.  My feet crunched on the
familiar gravel parking area of the compound.  Still rundown and needing
repairs, the familiar compound exuded welcome.  With a twinge, I realized I’d
probably miss these frequent visits.

Pushing the door closed, I reached around to the bed of the
truck and grabbed my canvas bag looking around at the other vehicles.  “There a
pack meeting tonight?” I asked Sam.

I couldn’t remember ever seeing so many cars before.  Oddly,
for the number parked in the yard, the compound was quiet.  Usually before a
meeting, groups of people stood outside, talking, renewing acquaintances.  Though
quiet outside, thin glowing lines of light escaped from behind thick curtains
in many of the windows on the main house.  Definitely, a full house tonight.  But
why stay inside?

Sam just grunted in response to my question, shouldering his
own bag and headed toward the main building.

I studied Sam’s back.  He certainly seemed rushed.  He’d
even sped this trip, getting us here in just over seven hours.  We’d only
stopped once for a five minute, gas-up, eat, and pee break.  I hadn’t
questioned why, but it was unusual.

The whole trip he’d stayed unusually quiet, pensive.  I
didn’t mind the quiet, but he generally updated me on current pack activity during
the drive to the compound.  Bored, I’d alternated between listening to my mp3
player and watching the passing country in silence.

I turned a slow circle, taking everything in, breathing
deeply, and started to focus.  In two years, my sight had expanded so I could
see much further in the vast darkness of my mind.  It didn’t exhaust me as
quickly as it used to.  Some sparks came in strong, glowing brightly like a
newly replaced light bulb.  Others were weak, more like a lightning bug’s
glow.  I didn’t know why, it just was.

I closed my eyes and continued to turn a slow circle,
breathing in and out in a deep steady rhythm.  At the compound, focusing was
harder.  The lights of the werewolves tended to flash in and out of focus
regardless of how bright or dim I perceived them.  I attributed it to their
amazing speed, thinking I only watched them move.  Since I hadn’t yet shared
this ability with Sam, I couldn’t confirm my suspicion.

In the darkness behind my closed eyes, I saw the usual
flashes of light, but the flashes jumped around in a pattern that made me
dizzy.  I could see flashes in the compound and many in the wooded area
surrounding the compound and beyond.

I stopped turning before I made myself lightheaded.  When I
opened my eyes, facing the wood to the right of the compound just inside the
gate, I felt watched.  Not moving, I listened.  Nothing but silence and my own
breathing.  Shrugging, I turned away from the trees to walk toward the main
building.  If a werewolf lingered out here with me, they would show themselves,
or not, depending on their nature and if I’d already been introduced to them.

Several men I’d never met exited through the main entrance
as I stepped up onto the porch.  Two gave me kind but dispassionate, perhaps
even indifferent, nods of greeting.  Mated.  The other two watched me alertly
and nodded politely.  Unmated.  I nodded a greeting in return and walked past
them, safe with the mated males nearby.  Pack law; protect unmated females from
unmated males.  Another pack law; don’t place yourself in a situation where
you’ll be alone with an unmated male or it could be seen as acceptance of his
suit.

Stepping inside, I noticed more men further down the long
hall that branched from the main entry headed my way.  Kicking off my shoes, I
nodded and I walked past them.  Again, a mated male amidst the unmated.

With a tingle of apprehension, I hurried toward the apartment
assigned to us.  The same one we’d first stayed in, but with big improvements. 
The sparsely furnished studio apartment with tiny bedroom now had a mini kitchen,
which included a sink, dishes and mini fridge.  It still lacked appliances for
cooking since we all took meals with the rest of the pack in the commons, which
had the communal kitchen.  The kitchenettes in the apartments were there just
for private convenience.

Sam had already thrown his bag on the foldout couch in the
living room when I walked through the apartment door.  I walked past him tossing
my bag on my own bed thinking of the changes I’d seen in this small area since
my first visit.  Under the sofa, a plush rug protected the refinished hardwood floors. 
Pictures decorated the walls and various knickknacks adorned the room, just a
few of Charlene’s efforts to make it homier for those staying here.  Sam and I
had priority on this apartment, but I knew visiting mated werewolves used it
when we weren’t scheduled to.

Back in the living room, I watched Sam for a few moments
trying to puzzle out his mood.  The last few informal Introductions had been
less than typical with an unusually high number of unmated males coming to the
compound from greater distances.  I figured this one would be no different.  Maybe
he worried about the number attending.

“So, when do we get started?”  I paced around the room
enjoying standing after the long drive.

“Soon as you’re ready I guess.”  Sam stood over his bag
riffling in the bottom, looking for something.

“How many this weekend?”  I asked, turning from my pacing to
watch him.

He didn’t look at me.  In fact, he seemed to be making an
effort not to look at me and had been making that effort since breakfast.  My
stomach wanted to do a flip, but I firmly smashed down my emotions.  Emotions
around werewolves gave you away.  They could smell some and hear others.  I
needed to figure out what was going on before I reacted in anyway.  He’d looked
guilty at breakfast, hurried to get here, and now wouldn’t meet my eyes.

He straightened, pencil and paper in his hand.  “I’m not
sure,” he said still not meeting my gaze.  He kept himself busy by tucking the
pencil into the spiral of the notebook.  “All of the Elders put a call out
since it’s your last one.  Ready?”

“Yep.”  I fell into step behind him and asked, “So, what
does that mean?”