Isabel and the Wolf: (Part 2)

Isabel and The Wolf

Paranormal erotic romance serial

PART
TWO

Copyright ©2014 by Ariana Hawkes

All rights reserved.

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Isabel and The Wolf Part Three

About Ariana Hawkes

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Pretending she was nonchalant about The Wolf contacting her again was useless. Isabel was incandescent with frustration. Fragments from the night before kept insinuating themselves into her mind: the scent of his skin; the thrill of his teeth grazing her neck; the way the animal skins complemented the velvety tautness of his torso.

She lolled around her flat, daydreaming, reminiscing, making food and listening to music, no closer to working out why Peter had stripped her, apparently decided that she passed his assessment, made her feel absolutely incredible, and then not had sex with her. It was beyond perplexing. Maybe that was his thing – meeting women, getting them all hot and crazy for him, and then denying them what they most wanted. Like a specific kink or something.
Or, he decided half-way through that he didn’t like you and he was just trying to placate you
, a mean little voice whispered. No, that wasn’t it. Isabel reminded herself how aroused he’d been, even as they were lying down to sleep, and she was rewarded with another spark of arousal of her own.

All the time, her laptop was unignorable on her coffee table. She was dying to open it and find out whether Peter had messaged her. If he had, she might discover why he’d been holding out on her. But she held back, not wanting the future to be revealed too quickly. As the afternoon passed though, there seemed to be something malevolent in the way it crouched there, daring her to find out whether it held the key to her confusion.

Late in the day, when she couldn’t stand it any longer, Isabel logged onto the dating site, annoyed that her heart was beating faster than usual. The page opened to display five new messages in her inbox. None of them were from Peter. Without reading them she closed the lid of the laptop and stared up at the ceiling, both disappointed and relieved. What was she expecting anyway? An elaborate explanation for the way he’d been acting? She shook her head at her own silliness. At best he’d either message her asking to hook up again, or he’d be silent. And if he was silent, she’d never know whether it was because he didn’t like her, or because he’d only ever intended to meet up once. Isabel groaned. It would be great if someone could tell her the rules of alternative online hooking up. Maybe they should have established some guidelines before they met, so she would’ve had a better idea of what to expect. Like, no actual sex on a first date, for example. She opened the laptop again and clicked the FAQs link on the site. It didn’t yield any inspiration, aside from warning her to meet in public for the first time, and to make sure she had a safeword. Safeword. That was another thing they hadn’t discussed – not that it had ended up being necessary. She could see that Peter hadn’t been on the site since the night before. That was reassuring. Unfortunately, he would be able to see that she had been. It would be so much easier if they’d swapped numbers, she thought, cursing herself. But there just hadn’t been a good moment. The time between him opening the door to her and ordering her to take her dress off had been the only appropriate window, and, at that point, her mind hadn’t exactly been in the right place to do it.

She could message him and leave her number. That wasn’t a bad plan. It would free her from having to keep checking the site, and feeling like a loser if he didn’t message her back. She clicked ‘reply’ to his last message, and hesitated, fingers poised over her keyboard. She didn’t want to seem needy or stalkery. She had to be cool and independent; the strong woman she was. A few alternatives ran through her mind. What would Peter would write to her if the situation was reversed? She giggled. He’d probably be extremely abrupt. At last, she typed:

575 538 3201.

and nothing more. Smiling to herself, she turned her head and caught sight of her reflection in her closet mirror. She looked pretty good, from a purely objective point of view, all tumbling caramel hair and sparkling eyes. After she’d recovered from her post-breakup phase of not sleeping and not eating properly, everyone said she was looking great. Her curves had come back and the New Mexican climate was doing something good for her hair. If Peter didn’t want to see her again, well that was his loss. She clicked the red X and closed out of the site. She opened Facebook.
There was a message from Kara, of course. It contained a single word:

Sooooooooooooooooo?

Isabel laughed, with a burst of affection for her friend. She’d already been thinking what she was going to write to her. She typed:

Got a great head start. Didn’t pass the post.

and hit send with a flourish. Sending cryptic messages to each other was a game they’d played since their college days. Kara wasn’t online, so she decided to leave the other messages in her inbox for later, and shut her MacBook.

*

Isabel’s antsy, irritable mood carried her through a feverish night. Her dreams continued to be very vivid, full of crazy adventures outdoors in nature. She woke up several times to hear herself crying out, whether a yell or a moan, she couldn’t tell. Her sheets were damp and twisted, as if she’d been fighting them.

When Peter hadn’t messaged her by morning, she resolved to put the experience behind her. That day, she left the house just after 10am to run the three sculptures she’d just completed to the courier service downtown. As she drove, she opened the windows of her Mini Cooper and let the desert air blow in. She was starting to get used to the aridness of everything; used to moisturizing her skin, which was accustomed to the stinging winds of Chicago, several times a day. Early as it was, the sun was almost at its peak, and the dry New Mexican scenery sped by. This was something she hadn’t yet got used to. It had such a stark beauty, she knew she’d never get tired of it. It was her fantasy of what living in a desert town would be like, but better. Datil yuccas lined the road, like spiky little aliens.

After she’d dropped off the sculptures, Isabel strolled down Silver City’s main street. In general, she really enjoyed her own company – which was a pre-requisite for an artist – but sometimes the combination of working alone and living in a town where she didn’t know many people was a little isolating. More than 24 hours since she’d last seen another living soul, the bustle of people in the colorful main street was almost overwhelming. She stopped and looked through the windows of a couple of galleries and vintage clothing shops, and paused at cafes, deliberating over which one to choose for her morning coffee. At the third one she came to, she spotted two familiar faces – Josie and Rob, sitting at an outside table under an awning.

“Hey there!” Josie called, seeing her at the same time.

“Hi!” Isabel walked over, shielding her eyes from the sun so she could see them properly. “Is there a spare seat here?” she asked.

“You bet,” Rob said, leaping to his feet. He grabbed a chair from a nearby table and positioned it at their table.

“So, you guys taking it easy today as well?” Isabel asked, sitting down. She caught the eye of the waitress and ordered a latte.

“More taking a break,” Josie replied. “I try to put in three hours, and then meet Rob for coffee or lunch most days.”

“Yeah, I wish I had that morning thing down,” Isabel said. Most of the time I’m lucky if I get going before 11.”

“Being a morning person’s overrated,” Rob said, rubbing his forehead. “I actually feel like my head is clearer in the evening. Even though Josie doesn’t believe me.” Josie elbowed him and Isabel smiled, enjoying the intimacy between them.

“I just don’t understand it,” Josie said. “By evening I feel like my head’s cluttered with the million things that have gone on during the day, and the longer it takes me to get going, the more guilt I get at my procrastination.”

“Procrastination is right,” Rob said in a stage whisper. “Sometimes this one can stare out of the window for a straight hour.” He ducked the playful slap that Josie aimed at him.

“I’m the same as Rob,” Isabel said. “I’m always groggy first thing, and then my mind only comes alive later on.”

“A creature of the night!” Josie said, and gave Isabel one of her sparkly-eyed smiles that seemed to carry a hint of something more than she was saying.

“Hey, I’ve got to get back to work after this, but I was wondering if you wanted to come with me and check out the conservation center where I’m based?” Rob asked Isabel. “It’s just a ten minute drive from here.”

“Yes, I’d love to!” she said immediately.

“Is this a twosome, or can I come too?” Josie asked. Rob put his hand on the back of her head and planted a kiss on top of it.

“I guess so, if you promise not to disturb the animals,” he said.

They paid up and left. Isabel picked up her car and followed Rob and Josie onto the Black Peak road.

Not far along, they turned right at a signpost indicating the center, and drove along a broad track cutting through the forest. At the end, there was a big sign, saying ‘Welcome to Gila Wilderness’ high up on two posts, and beyond it was a low building. Isabel had been expecting a dusty, ramshackle hut, but the place was spacious and brightly-colored, with photos of the local wildlife everywhere, and detailed descriptions of their habitats and behaviors.

“Rob does a lot of this himself,” Josie said. “He’s really passionate about educating people about the Wilderness.”

“This is great,” Isabel said. “There’s so much work gone into it.”

“I’ll give you a tour,” Rob said, and he talked her around the exhibits. There were some stuffed animals here and there. Using the photos, Isabel identified a coati and a gray fox.

“Were these roadkill?” she asked.

“No – they all died of natural causes in the forest.”

“That’s what he tells people,” Josie said. “He’s actually a gun-obsessed freak, who’s always out in the wilderness shooting animals so he can suck out their insides and put them on display.” Rob swatted her on the ass.

“Shush, I don’t want her to know I’m a psychopath just yet,” he said and winked at Isabel.

“There aren’t any wolves here?” Isabel asked.

“Nope, never found one lying around dead. It makes me think the packs have a way of dealing with their dead. I’ll tell you something strange that did happen though – come through to the back.” They followed Rob into the staff area. “We caught a wolf a few days ago to tag it and run our usual tests, and it didn’t look like a Mexican gray. It was quite a lot bigger, and it had dark fur – almost like a black bear. We had it sedated, out cold on its side when I took the blood sample. But, by the time I dropped the sample in the truck and turned back, it was up on its feet and, before I could think about sedating it again, it ran off into the forest. I mean, with the dose we’d given it, it should’ve been out for at least 20 minutes. I had actually been about to take some measurements and photos, as I’d never seen a wolf like that before. And then we tested the blood, and found it didn’t share DNA with any of the wolves we have on record. Not just in the regeneration area down here, but in the records of tagged wolves in the packs in Wyoming, Idaho and Montana either.”

“That’s crazy,” Isabel said. “So what does it mean? What are the possible explanations?”

“Well, lots of the wolves in the northern states aren’t tagged, so it’s theoretically possible that a pack, or a lone wolf moved down here. But it’s very unlikely that they made it all the way here without being noticed.” He handed her a chunk of plaster. “We made this cast of its tracks. They’re almost double the size of the average male Mexican gray.”

“I think it’s a skinwalker!” Josie said, eyes shining.

“What’s that?”

“Skinwalkers are part of Native American Folklore. They’re people with the ability to turn themselves into any animal they want. It’s a good job Rob didn’t look the wolf in the eye though – the Navajo believe that if you ever lock eyes with a skinwalker, they can absorb themselves into your body!” Rob suddenly grabbed Josie from behind and wrapped his arms around her.

“And what makes you think that hasn’t happened already?” he said in a growly voice into her neck. Josie laughed and struggled to pull herself out of his grasp without success. He had practically engulfed her with his rangy body. Josie stopped wriggling and looked up at Isabel, laughing.

“I’ve been developing a bit of an obsession with Native American culture too. Since we moved here, the aura of the place has really been working on me, and I’ve been trying to learn all about its history.”

“I know what you mean,” Isabel said. “There is a special atmosphere here, isn’t there?”