Wolf2are Page 2

  “Did it get better for you?” Chris looked Devon square in the eyes, taking him by surprise.

  Devon simply stared at him for a moment, his mouth agape before he finally turned his gaze to the floor. “Well, it is what it is, you know?”

  Chris grunted in reply, and for the next five minutes, we sat in complete silence. I decided to go over the notes that I had taken during Emmett's interview while Devon picked on his nails, and Chris stared at the floor in thought.

  “Well, should we go?” Devon finally broke the silence. “I think the compound staff would like to talk to you a bit before the celebration begins,” he addressed me.

  “Alright.” I nodded in reply, and the three of us stood and headed for the recreation room and a night of festivities.

  When we got there, the compound staff was still setting up the tables with refreshments. I was surprised to see John Edward among them, the compound coordinator who had given me a tour of the outside of the reservation when I had first arrived. His face broadened into a smile as his eyes landed on me, and he immediately approached us for greetings.

  “How has your stay been so far, Ms. Raveen?” John asked, his pale gray eyes looking down at me from behind round framed glasses.

  “It's been fine.”

  “And you, Chris, how are you settling in?” he acknowledged the newest pack member.

  “It is what it is,” Chris replied with a pinch of distaste, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was mocking Devon for what he had said earlier.

  “Devon, good to see you.” John nodded to my other companion before turning his attention back to me. “Is everyone treating you well?”

  “Everyone has been very nice to me.”

  “No problems?”

  “Nope. None so far.”

  “Well, I usually don't come to these events, but I thought I would come this time to check up on you. I'll be around for the hierarchy trials as well, just to make sure that everything is still alright.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Hello, Mr. Edwards,” Emmett's voice came from behind me, and I turned to see him walking up to shake John's hand as if they were the best of friends.

  “Emmett. I just stopped by to make sure that you weren't giving Ms. Raveen a hard time.” He smirked at his playful joke.

  “I wouldn't dream of it,” Emmett laughed, and for the first time, I could sense the falseness of his sincerity.

  “Well, if all is good, then I'll be on my way. Oh, and Ms. Raveen.” John grabbed me by the arm, gently pulling me a few steps away from the boys. “I know that this is kind of short notice, but everyone is so curious about you here that I thought it might be a good idea if you made a little speech. Perhaps talk about how your report will help to make their lives a little better. You know, something to give encouragement.”

  While I didn't like the short notice, I nodded in agreement. Morale was a bit low for some of the werewolves, especially the ones that knew more about what was actually going on outside the reservation. Hopefully, my report would help to make things better for them, though I didn't want to promise anything.

  “I'm sure I can come up with something,” I replied finally.

  “And let them ask you a couple of questions. This is exciting stuff for them, you know?”

  “Alright.”

  “Thanks for being a good sport.” He patted me on the shoulder before taking his leave.

  Emmett stepped up beside me, startling me for a moment. “I didn't expect to see him here, but I suppose it only makes sense. He wants to make sure that we haven't scared you away yet.”

  “It's very nice of him to come check on me.”

  “Well, are you ready for the libations? The party will be starting in about thirty minutes. Better get set up at the table of honor.” He placed his hand on the small of my back, urging me toward a set of picnic tables at the back of the room that had been pushed together to form a single long row. I grimaced at Emmett's touch, but did my best not to show my discomfort. Everything in me hoped that he was just a touchy feely person and that his actions didn't mean anything more. Still, memories of Emmett's inappropriate comment during our one-on-one interview had me on edge around him.

  “Chris,” I called back before turning to Emmett. “He'll be sitting with us, right?”

  “Yes” He nodded, though he didn't seem to care that he had stolen me away and left Chris and Devon standing alone. Thankfully, Chris came when I called him, leaving Devon to find his own seat with the female omega.

  Chris and I sat side by side while we waited for the recreation room to fill up, and Emmett went to the door to greet people as they entered. Apparently, welcoming people to the celebration was part of his job description as alpha. His face was an ear to ear smile while he shook hands with each werewolf as if they were all something special to him. I couldn't help but wonder how many of the werewolves actually loathed him. Surely, there was at least a good handful.

  It quickly became clear that Chris had social anxiety disorder. He kept his face down and raked his fingertips across the tops of his legs. By the time the room was halfway full, Chris was even rocking back and forth a bit.

  “Hey,” I whispered to him, sliding one of my hands on top of his. Instantly, Chris steadied. “It's going to be alright. I'm here with you.”

  “Thanks,” he replied, and I was surprised when he gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

  Despite having already seen most of the werewolves in the cafeteria during mealtime, it was interesting to observe the diversity of the pack. Werewolves came in all ages, sizes, and colors. One man looked to be nearly ninety, and there was a young girl who couldn't have been older than fifteen. Over half of the werewolves were Caucasian, with a quarter of them being Hispanic, a handful of African Americans, and only two Asians.

  And then a man walked through the door, captivating my gaze. His skin was a strange color of bronze, as was his short shaggy unkempt hair, and he had the most stunning light green eyes that I had ever seen. Emmett greeting him, but the man said nothing in reply. He simply walked past as if the alpha wasn't even there. Then, he raised his eyes, and they honed in on me with such an intensity that I felt the need to look away. This man, I had never seen inside of the reservation before. I was certain of it.

  Soon, the recreation room was full. Compound staff in gray jumpsuits finished setting up the food and beverages. The guards took their stations on either side of the door. And at exactly five o'clock, Emmett walked to the front of the room to address the crowd.

  “Welcome, members of the Blackfoot pack,” he began. “As most of you know, we received a new addition to the pack a few days ago. His name is Chris Abbot, and I'd like you all to give him a warm welcome. Chris, please stand up.”

  As Chris released my hand and did as he was told, the rest of the werewolves twisted to look at him, clapping and offering smiles of acceptance. He nodded politely before quickly sitting back down.

  “You can't sit down yet,” Emmett told him, and the room erupted into laughter at his joking tone. Chris was up in an instant, looking across the room at Emmett, deadpan. “Tell us a little about yourself. Maybe something that no one else knows.”

  For a moment, the room was silent as Chris struggled with what to say to the onlookers. My eyes drifted over the crowd, but they always seemed to return to the bronze stranger. I tried not to look directly at him but kept him in my peripheral vision instead. He seemed to have no interest in Chris, staring at me all the while.

  “My name is Christopher Abbot, and I hope to become a productive member of your society,” Chris said. It wasn't what Emmett had asked for, but I felt it was good enough. The poor guy was scared to death.

  “I'm sure you will be, Chris.” Emmett beamed at him. “Now, how about the rest of you introduce yourself to Chris. We'll start with the front row, going from left to right. I'll begin. My name is Emmett Kennedy, and I'm the male alpha of the pack.”

  The introductions were long and tedious.
While I tried my best to match faces with names, I knew there was no way I would remember them all.

  There was one woman with long wavy blonde hair and a strong Russian accent. When she told us that her name was Sasha, there was so much aggressive energy in her voice that I thought she might jump up and pounce on Chris. She looked at him with a strange sexual hunger behind her small blue eyes that caused jealousy to race through me—jealousy that I knew I shouldn't be feeling.

  Then it was the turn of the bronze haired man. He stood up like the rest, except that he didn't turn around to look at us when he spoke. “My name is Rex Willows, and I'm a lone wolf.”

  “Good of you to make it,” Emmett replied, and I could sense a bit of tension in his voice. He didn't like Rex, and I was curious to know why.

  When the introductions were over, Emmett spoke again. “We also have a special guest within our midst. Ms. Taya Raveen, please stand up, if you would.” While I did as I was told, he continued, “Ms. Raveen is a journalist for the National News Network. As some of you may know, she'll be staying with us until before the next full moon to document our day to day lives. She's putting together a report on the reservation and will probably ask to interview most of you. I would like you all to cooperate and show her the utmost respect while she is with us. Is there anything that you would like to say, Ms. Raveen?”

  I took a breath before speaking, hoping that I could remember all the words that I had rehearsed inside of my head. “As Emmett has said, I will be staying with you here at the reservation for the remainder of the month. Please continue with your day to day lives as if I'm not even around so that I can get the most accurate information for my report. I will be asking you some very personal questions, but please know that it is to your discretion whether or not you want to answer them. You are not obligated to answer my questions, nor are you obligated to agree to an interview. It is my hope that my report will help to generate awareness about the reservation and your condition, and hopefully help to improve your lives until a cure can be found. Thank you for having me.”

  “If anyone has any questions for Ms. Raveen, you can feel free to either ask them now or in the privacy of your interview,” Emmett told the group.

  A plump woman in her mid-sixties raised her hand, shaking it in the air as if she thought she might have competition. No one else seemed interested though, more concerned with the pizza getting cold than asking questions.

  “Yes,” I addressed her.

  “Ms. Raveen, is it true that you got to tour the outside of the reservation before they brought you in?” she asked.

  “That's correct.”

  “Did you get to see the lab area?”

  “I'm not quite sure what you're talking about.”

  “Where they work on the cure.”

  My heart sank. “I'm afraid that research towards a cure for the lycanthropy disease is carried out away from the compound.”

  “Well, did you get to tour that facility?”

  “Unfortunately, no. My tour was confined to the compound and the reservation.”

  “So, you don't know anything about the progression of the cure. Surely, you must have heard something.”

  I tried to keep a deadpan expression as I responded, hiding the fact that I did know more. “I was not given access to that information.”

  “Oh.” Her face sulked, and she turned around to the front of the room, forgetting that I was there.

  “Anyone else?” Emmett asked, scanning the crowd. When no one raised their hand, he gestured to the pizza line. “Well then, let's get our feed bag on. Ms. Raveen and Chris, if you two would come up and get your food first, since you're our guests of honor.”

  Grabbing a plate before everyone else felt a bit inappropriate considering I could have pizza any time I wanted outside of the reservation. This was a rare treat for them, something they only got to enjoy once a month. Still, I didn't want to make it seem like I was overriding Emmett's authority, so I kept my mouth shut.

  Bottles of sodas and cans of Budweiser were provided at the end of the table. I took a Diet Coke, and Chris didn't hesitate to grab a beer. He probably would have taken more than one if he had a choice, I imagined.

  When I got back to my seat, I looked for Rex and was surprised that he was nowhere to be seen. After checking for him periodically throughout the meal, it became clear that he had left when they began serving the pizza. Perhaps he had just come because it was mandatory and had no intentions of staying to eat with the rest of the pack.

  Everyone appeared to be having a blast, laughing and socializing on a level of enthusiasm that I hadn't witnessed in the reservation before. The armed guards went unnoticed by most of the pack. It was as if they were used to seeing them by now.

  When the celebration was over, Devon escorted me back to my room. One thing quickly became apparent by the following morning. Devon was not going to allow me to sleep in. Like a werewolf alarm clock, he arrived at my door promptly at seven forty-five to collect me for breakfast, despite the fact that we didn't sit together once we got to the cafeteria.

  After a few days of approaching werewolves randomly for interviews, I decided to put Devon to work making a list of all the names of the werewolves on the reservation so that I could interview them in alphabetical order by their first names. This would make my job easier and ensure that I didn't miss anyone.

  On Thursday, it was time to interview a man named Bartholomew Ryan, one of the lone wolves who lived away from the pack. Devon was a bit uncomfortable with the idea of taking me to where he lived, suggesting that I was better off skipping the lone wolves, but I insisted. After all, how could I get the whole picture if I didn't understand how the outsiders lived?

  The trek to Bartholomew's house would take an entire day, considering that he lived towards the back of the one thousand acre reservation. Not wanting for either Devon or I to be stuck in the woods overnight, I decided to approach the reservation fence line in hopes that I could appeal to the compound staff to lend us some ATVs. At first, they were apprehensive, but eventually they agreed under the stipulation that we'd return them before the end of the day.

  The drive out to Bartholomew's place took a little over an hour, thanks to some patchy terrain. It seemed like he wanted to make it as difficult as possible for the compound staff to reach him.

  Despite the bumpy ride, I enjoyed the change of scenery. Pine trees jutted up into the sky, filling the air with a Christmasy aroma. Everything was lush greens and earthy browns, creating a serene sense of wonderment at nature's beauty.

  When we finally came upon Bartholomew's house, it reminded me of something out of one of my grandmother's old paintings. Nestled amidst trees was a simple log cabin with an outhouse in the back. I couldn't help but be impressed by the fact that all of this had been built by Bartholomew himself without any help from the rest of the werewolves or tools from the reservation.

  My excitement waned when it became clear that he either wasn't home or had no intentions of opening the door to us. “Do any of the other lone wolves live nearby?” I asked Devon, not wanting to have gone through the effort of borrowing the ATVs for nothing.

  “They're pretty spaced out from one another, but if you want to try someone else, then we can,” he replied, his face screwing in a way that told me I shouldn't be hopeful.

  The second house was similar to the first in construction and belonged to a man named Chris Ross. We could hear him rustling around inside of the cabin, but whenever I knocked, all went silent as he waited patiently for us to go away.

  Perhaps Devon had been right. Perhaps we shouldn't have bothered coming out. Still, I figured it would be worth the effort if I could get at least one interview from a lone wolf. All I really needed was one, it didn't matter who gave it to me.

  Unlike the other two houses, Rex's home seemed to be made of old wooden boards that had once been cut from a lumber yard. The outside of it was gray with age, and there were gaps where the wood was warped, as if i
t had been there long before the werewolves were moved onto the property.

  “He's not here either,” Devon said with obvious relief in his voice.

  “I guess today was a bust then,” I sighed, throwing up my arms in defeat.

  “If you want, we can wait around for a little while,” he suggested, but I could hear the reluctance, silently telling me that he'd rather not.

  “No, it's alright. I already forced you to miss lunch because of this. I can come back some other time by myself, now that I know how to get here.” I mounted my ATV, preparing to start it up.

  “I'd rather you not come alone.”

  “Why not?”

  “These guys can be kind of rough. I'd rather you not take the chance.”

  I couldn't help but smirk. For being such a small boy, Devon didn't seem afraid to protect me. Then again, he might have just been worried that if I came alone and something happened to me that he would catch hell for it from the other werewolves. After all, Devon's job was to be my guide, and there was no more appropriate time for him to be by my side than when I went traipsing off into the forest after aggressive male werewolves.

  After we returned to the base of the reservation and dropped off the ATVs, I scurried to get in two more interviews before dinner time. While the interviews were fascinating, to an extent, they were quickly beginning to sound repetitive. Most of the werewolves that I had spoken to so far had contracted the lycanthropy disease through sexual contact with a stranger. Only one other had been bitten besides Devon. The host werewolf was rarely ever found. Same story, different werewolf.

  By dinner time, I was completely exhausted, but after skipping lunch, I knew that I couldn't afford to miss another meal if I wanted to keep my strength up. Per usual, I sat with the alphas and betas and Chris.

  “I heard you and Devon got to ride around on ATVs today,” Rick, the resident male beta, said as he leaned past his female counterpart to see me.

  “Mhm,” I replied, not really interested in talking about it.

  “That sure beats walking to Bartholomew's,” Emmett commented. “What is it, twenty-one miles away from here?”