Hidden in Sheridan (Tainted Series: Book 1)

Moon: WAXING CRESCENT

Levi - Both of my feet landed solid on the table. If it hadn’t been impossible, I would have basked in the adrenaline high that comes with being a sudden gymnastic professional.

The thick hand crafted wooden table barely shuttered under my weight. And for the first time in my life, gravity wasn’t going to make me fall on my face. It is such a great feeling! I often trip over my own feet, stumble over flat ground, or run into walls … It occurs to me I shouldn’t have stuck the landing.

In fact, why did I jump in the first place?

The room had gone still. Cody, the six year old spins around, wisps of his black hair brush his cheeks. His eyes wide with awe. That’s the first time I notice the rest of the Wolfe family in the dinning room. Frozen over a variety of breakfast food.

Two women were seated on either sides of the table. One with slick blond hair that obviously came from a salon, her roots a darker brown and her eyes danced with the same blue and gold in Codys.

Three others with similar eye shape but different coloring also look up at me. Sarah, Sebastian, and Samantha, the only reason I knew their names was because the 10 year old triplets, used to be quintuplets. Five years ago the funeral, for Stephen Wolfe had been a large event in Sheridan. However, it wasn’t until now that I noticed how much these three looked alike. They gaze up with strawberries smeared across their mouths. I may have mistaken the jam for blood except the strawberry syrup bottle sat nearby.

At the other end of the table sits the other woman. She has striking silver hair, which looks unreal due to the fact she’s young enough no one would expect her capable of naturally going grey. Yet, there is no indication it isn’t her own color. It’s cut in a short bob with long bangs that brushed across her dark brown eyes. The mini version of her, a seven year old girl with the haircut and the same eyes though blonde hair. Also, little boy that could pass for a 4 year old clone of Sterling.

The last occupant was Sterlings older brother, specifically the 18 year old, older brother. He looks different from the others. His face was clean, his hair slicked back and his backpack slung over his shoulder. He’d just finished getting ready for school and stepped into the dinning room just in time to catch the show. His expression made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

His name is Rory. I’ve never really looked at his face before. Rory was an 18 year old punk. Always picking on Sterling and me, which is why I learned to avoid eye contact. Until now, when he looked right at me. His thick eyebrows narrowed, the whites of his eyes contrasting against his blemish free sun kissed skin. His slicked back dark brown hair, and his eyes swirl with layers of brown. Similar to the layers of rock you see at the Grand Canyon. His jaw is tight, teeth hidden beneath his lips in what resembles a snarl.

Thats when I feel it. I don’t know exactly what ‘it’ is, because it’s not a thought in my head, nor a feeling in my gut, but my whole body buzzes with the knowledge that Rory is ready to attack me.

I take a step back, and my mind clears like a bucket of water washed over me and I’m myself again. My foot connects with the large pitcher of water and I fall backwards landing hard, my backside in the pile of pancakes and eggs.

The tension around me dissolves as the whole room erupts into laughter and howling.

I scramble off the table, the triplets falling out of their chairs with laughter give me the opening to slide to the hard wood floor without destroying the rest of the tables contents. Sterling is quickly by my side pulling me toward the kitchen, Mrs. Wolfe holding the door open for our brisk exit.

The door swings shut, surprisingly blocking out all the sound that continues in the dinning room but only for a moment. The door opens again as Rory forces himself into the room. He drops his bag beside the door, blocking it from reopening, then takes up residence in a small chair by the far window.

I swallow hard, looking down at the breakfast remains covering pants. No one handed me a towel, so I look around to see if I can find something to clean myself up with.

“I-I am so sorry,” I sputter, discovering a yellow dish towel beside the sink. It’s damp from when I wiped up the puddles I’d made earlier. Which helps to remove the egg yoke. “I have no idea what I was thinking … or how,” I stop wiping. My eyes shift to the open door behind me. The snow was falling slowly but that’s not what bothers me. I’m aware of each flake as it drifts from the sky until it lands gently on the already resting snow. There is no wind, so it’s a truly gentle snowfall. The peacefulness seems consuming.

An indescribable feeling fills my chest. I want to run out into the woods and taste the snowflakes. I want to jump into a snow drift. I want to play in that silence.

That feeling changes to worry, the temperature rises in my face so I spin back around to look at Sterling. His skeptical eyes study my every move. He knows what I only now realize.

“Whats wrong with me?” I beg.

“Elaborate.” Sterling says, his lack of sarcasm fills me with more worry.

“I ran here. That’s like, forever.”

“Six miles.” Sterling corrects.

“Six miles?” This mornings blur starts to replay in my mind. “I ran six miles. Why would I do that?”

“Why would you fight with a six year old boy for bacon?” Asks Mrs. Wolfe

“It’s bacon.” Both Sterling and myself state matter of fact.

“Okay,” Mrs. Wolfe redirects, “Why fight so intensely with a six year old boy?”

“It’s bacon.” Both of us repeat. At least we agreed that wasn’t the weird part of all this. Mrs. Wolfe’s hand raises to rub the twitch that began in her eyebrow.

“Other than the bacon you’ve been acting strange. Do you feel stronger?” She asks and I urgently nod.

“Much stronger and I want to be out in the woods. I feel hot like I don’t need a coat, I just need to be outside. Is there something wrong with me?” I ask, seeing as my words don’t remove the worry from her expression.

Mrs. Wolfe sighs, “If that is the indication that something is wrong then this entire house has a problem. It’s the fact you, a human, are describing those feelings.”

“Mom.” Sterling snaps, “What kind of wolf can do that to him with a bite?”

“You said I got bit by a dog.” I snap, my voice a bit higher than I’d intended.

“I lied.” Sterling shrugs, he looks back to his mother whose expression, remains more complicated.

She shakes her head as she speaks but she doesn’t seem to believe what she was saying. “Your father hasn’t had a single wolf outside the park, and even if it’s not a wolf …”

Rory smirks from his dark chair, “Mom, come on, you can’t be thinking it.” He says.

Mrs. Wolf throws her hands up in the air, “to be honest, I’m not sure what I’m thinking, since what I’m thinking is impossible.”

“Is there something wrong with me?” I ask again.

“More than usual?” Rory chimes and they all shoot him a variation of glares. “Yes, there’s something wrong with you. You’re acting a like a wolf cub, and you’re healing like a supernatural one. Both things are not possible.”

The room starts spinning, or maybe it’s my head, but I feel that I might be to poltergeist-ie. Logical dots fail to connect. I need them to connect and these three have to do that for me, but they look just as confused.

“So … what?” I ask, “Now I go to the hospital? Maybe the antibiotics they gave me worked some kind of miracle?”

“Yeah, you’ll be on TV.” Rory mocks uselessly. To be fair, it is his defense mechanism. Rory is obviously as freaked out as the rest of us.

“We are a bit beyond the hospital now dear.” Mrs. Wolfe says, her voice calm and slow. She chooses her next words carefully, keeping eye contact with me though I struggle to focus on her face. “He’s suggesting you’re turning into a werewolf.”

I want to laugh. My mouth turns up and opens, but no sound expels. The weight of her words along with the tone she spoke in, I knew Mrs. Wolfe was serious. A cough and lump deep in my throat take the laughs place, and my hand clasp my knees to keep me from collapsing.

“I know. That was a joke. I can’t turn into a werewolf. It’s impossible.” I sputter at the floor.

Mrs. Wolfe continues. “It is impossible to turn a human into a werewolf by being bitten, or scratched or any other means.”

“Then what are we seeing, Mom?” Rory asks his tone much less encouraging but it at least seems in character. “He even smells like a wolf.”

I stand back up and look too Sterling, who steps closer to me and takes a sniff, “Huh. That is you. I thought that was just us.” Sterling says.

“Us, who?” I sputter.

No one answers. They shift uncomfortably on their feet, except Rory who assumes ‘lounge posture’ in his chair. He’s such a jerk. I want to hit him in his acne free face. Or maybe rip the chair out from under him and hit him with it.

Rory was on his feet suddenly, his face in my face. I froze.

“Thinking about attacking me?” He says, his breath on my face was hot, but smelled surprisingly like scope mouth wash.

I swallow in response.

“Down boy.” Mrs. Wolfe orders, and Rory back aways. His mother continues,“I do agree there is something going on with him. I’m just saying we can’t jump to those Hollywood stories. That rumor was created to discourage hunters. It is now and always has been fake.”

“Wait.” The lump in my throat doubled in size making it impossible to swallow the saliva pooling under my tongue. Mrs. Wolfe, highly educated woman with sharp instincts and a killer presence wherever she goes, was not making any sense …

“I’m sorry. Are you suggesting you do believe in Werewolves but you don’t believe I could be one?” My voice cracks as I ask it.

She didn’t argue, in fact she pressed her lips together thoughtfully.

“Can I show him?” Eager, Rory takes another step forward and I step back.

“You’ll end up killing him.” Mrs. Wolfe says, tossing the towel off her shoulder and hitting Rory in the face. “I said sit.” This time Rory returned to his seat. “Sterling, why don’t you take Levi out into the woods and show him what we’re talking about.”

The color drains out of Sterling’s face replaced by a nervousness I’ve never seen on him. Not even when Sterling asked a Senior to Homecoming as a Freshman.

“Are you sure? ’Cause if it’s not, then he … wouldn’t we have too …” Sterling trailed off at the end of his sentence.

“The Circumstances are peculiar enough to risk it.” Mrs. Wolfe says.

“It’s Levi’s life,” Sterling started but his mother cut him off.

“Not anymore,” She barked causing her son to cower in front of her. Silence over took the room and Mrs Wolfe paused to take a calming deep breath. “You chose not to share the facts of him being bitten to protect both Levi and young wolf, but things are rapidly changing. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”

Sterling shook his head as his searched for the words, “He stayed out of sight, masked his smell which means he knew I was there…”

“And he was experienced.” Rory stated, “How young?”

“Around our age,” Sterling admits. “He was defiantly not fully grown.”

“I’ll call dad.” Rory makes it to the landline in a few simple strides. It hangs on the wall by the fridge, he lifts the ancient corded object from the receiver and starts to dial. I still haven’t managed to stop the room from spinning so I look at Sterling hoping to pick up on a signal that will confirm this has all been in my head.

“Take Levi outside, Sterling.” Mrs. Wolfe directs. “Go far enough out into the trees and don’t worry about anything else. We don’t have that luxury anymore.”

Sterling calls out to me several times. I watch his lips move yet the sound only reaches my ears when he pulls on my arm. My feet stumble forward, one foot in front of the other. He leads me out the back door, across the patio and into the snowy back woods.

CHAPTER END