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“Yeah, I caught that scent, too. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I should have.“ I bare my throat in a sign of submission to show my remorse.
“It’s okay, son. You couldn’t have known something like this would happen. But, yes, you should let a pack elder know anytime you scent something that doesn’t belong on our land.”
“Yes, sir.“
“You didn’t smell it tonight?” My mom asks.
I shake my head. “Not a fresh scent.”
My dad nods. “Tomorrow, we will all go out and comb the woods. You can skip school. If we don’t find that girl soon, she may be dead.”
“You think the bear took her?” It doesn’t feel right to me.
That shifter had a perfect opportunity to snatch me if he wanted, and he didn’t. In fact, he handed over Lauren’s letter after I appealed to him. But maybe I don’t fit the profile of the kind of young shifter the Venators want. I’m too many years past my awakening.
But I can’t exactly tell my parents about any of that now, can I? Not without the rest of the story coming out. And there’s no way in hell I’m telling anyone that Lauren knows. There’s no way in hell I’ll let anyone bring her to another vampire. She doesn’t deserve that shit. I will never forgive myself for putting her through that in the first place.
My dad frowns. “He may have taken her, or he may be an informant to the Venators. Either way, I want to track that fucker down, and when I do, he’s a dead bear.”
“Yeah,” I agree, the weight of all my recent fuck ups bearing down on my shoulders like two tons of wet cement.
Chapter Fourteen
Lauren
“This is so ghetto.” Luke looks around the Homecoming dance with distaste.
Wolf Ridge High’s Homecoming is not held at a fancy hotel ballroom like Landhower’s, but at–wait for it–the town brewery, where everyone’s parents work.
Yep. You heard that right. Another sign of the weird incestuousness of this town. Which, I guess, makes sense if they’re all werewolves. No if. They are.
I look around at the crowd, trying to find evidence of their animal nature. I suppose from the outside it looks like any high school dance–except far less formal than the ones I’m used to back East. Some people are all dressed up, some students are in flip-flops.
I’m in a form-fitting teal dress that matches my eyes and a pair of fuck-me pumps, not that anyone will be fucking me tonight. I still haven’t broken it off with Luke, but I have managed to avoid us getting intimate. He must know it’s coming.
“At least it’s not in the school gym,” I mutter. While I completely share Luke’s low opinion of the event, a thread of defensiveness tightens above my belly button.
“You would hope there’d be beer to drink if we’re at their brewery.” Luke scans the exits and entryways. “Do you think we could get into the factory from here?”
“We already have alcohol,” I say in a bored tone. “Speaking of which, I need a swig.” I’m beyond numb after a weekend of enduring Luke and every reminder he brought of who I used to be.
Lincoln ditched school Friday and, thankfully, entertained Luke. I seriously owe him. Big time. They went to a party at ASU last night, and we all went shopping in Scottsdale today, so I’ve been able to avoid intimacy with Luke until now. But it’s time.
Not for intimacy. For the break-up talk.
I doubt the alcohol will help, but I need something to break me out of this deadened state. I hold my hand out for Luke’s engraved silver flask which he filled with my dad’s Grey Goose before we left for the dance.
He pulls it out of his Armani suit jacket pocket and hands it to me. His other hand settles lightly on my hip.
I shimmy out of his grasp, angling my body toward the wall to hide the rather obvious alcohol drinking from teachers and chaperones. The alcohol burns as it shoots down my throat, making my eyes water.
There. I felt that. Except it’s more like I’m observing myself feeling it, rather than actually experiencing the sensation in my body. Does that mean I’m out of my body? Disassociated with it?
I probably need a therapist. Lincoln and I have been trying so hard to get our dad to talk to someone. Maybe I should lead by example.
My brain instantly goes to Abe. He makes me feel. I savored the hit of adrenaline I got after Abe tackled Luke to the ground outside my door Thursday night. The revving up of my cells. The spark to my libido.
Of course, it was all kinds of wrong, but something in me found it delicious.
