Two Years Ago…

“Alright. That’s it.” Rachel slumped to the ground on a heavy sigh. “My feet refuse to carry me another inch.”

Liz backtracked to Rachel’s side, scanning the horizon, trying to determine how much daylight remained.

“I swear to God, if I never see another forest again, it’ll be too soon.”

Liz smiled and sat next to Rachel. “And here I was thinking we could trek through Yosemite next year.”

“Not on your life.” Rachel pulled her shoes off and massaged the balls of her feet. “Can we rest a while?” Rachel asked, as though dreading Liz’s answer.

“Yeah. A breather sounds good.” As far as Liz could tell, they’d covered a lot of ground. They’d taken Allison’s advice and followed the water downstream, walking in the clear space between the tree line and the water’s edge. A few hours back, the stream had widened, picked up momentum and turned into a narrow river.

As the water had continued to widen, the embankment grew steeper and more slippery with every twist and turn, forcing them to slow down and pay attention to their footing. Rachel had been losing steam for nearly twenty minutes when she’d slipped and gone down hard, catching her weight on her wrist. Tears instead of cursing followed. Liz had carefully examined her wrist, lightly sprained at the most, then tried to haul her to her feet. Rachel had refused.

The shouting match that followed was the worst Liz could ever remember having with Rachel. She’d tried the tactic Allison had suggested and brutally detailed what was hunting them and what waited for them if they stopped moving. Resignation had settled heavily over the fear on Rachel’s face. When Liz threatened to leave her, Rachel had closed her eyes and called her a liar.

Walking away was one of the hardest things Liz had ever done. Second only to the words she’d spoken before she left.

“I love you. And I’d do just about anything for you. But I will not… I will NOT sit here and wait for them to catch up with us. It’s not in me, to sit here, waiting for death. I won’t die a sniveling coward. Not even for you.”

“Screw you.” The answer was so defeated it galvanized Liz into walking away, tossing words like knives over her shoulder.

“If you could ask that of me, expect that of me… then you aren’t the sister of my heart. She loved me too much.”

Liz had walked away, tears of hurt and sorrow burning at her eyes, Rachel’s stunned silence following her. But she’d forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she was around a bend in the river and out of sight. She’d cried, harsh wracking sobs and wondered if she could leave Rachel to die. She’d never had to make the decision. Less than ten minutes later, Rachel walked up next to her, and said in a watery voice, “Let’s go.”

Conversation between them had been sparse and uncomfortable for the next couple of hours. Liz tried to keep the river in sight, but eventually the embankment grew too steep, forcing them into the tree line. Every now and then, she’d catch a glimpse of the sun off the water, or hear rapids through the trees. She wished she had an idea of how far they’d gone.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get home?”

The sudden question broke the silence around them. “What?”

“You know, the moment we find civilization, what are you going to do first?” Rachel kept her eyes closed and her cheek resting against her knees.

“I don’t know…take a shower?”

One brown eye opened and regarded her with disdain. “Boring.”

“I suppose you have a better answer?”

Rachel’s eye closed and she gave a breathy sigh. “Right now I’m torn between getting a massage and pedicure or eating the biggest double cheeseburger I can find. With a chocolate shake. And fries. Chili-cheese fries. Yeah. Definitely chili-cheese fries.” She licked her lips. “Or maybe a steak, with a huge baked potato. Loaded. Mountains of sour cream. Or…”

Liz shoved her over, forcing Rachel to uncurl from her sleepy position. “Shut up.” She laughed. “I’m hungry enough already.”

“Then come up with something better.”

So many things sounded good. A soft pillow and a warm bed. A hot shower. Calling home. “Depends on where we are. I don’t even know what country we’re in.”

“It’s a fantasy, Lizzy. Turn off practical and dream a little.” Rachel looked at her, humor dancing in her eyes. “Don’t you have any imagination at all?”

Liz tilted her head back and closed her eyes, searching for a response.

“Hmm, well, if we’re fantasizing…”

“Yes?”

“Guess I’ll hop the first flight, call Ethan Fischer.”

Liz rose as Rachel’s disbelieving giggles filled the air around them. “You and Ethan? Right.”

“What can I say, last time was great. He’s good with his hands.”

Rachel choked on her laughter. Liz gained her feet and resumed walking, wondering how long it would take Rachel to string words together.

“Last time?” Rachel squealed, falling in step in an instant. “Oh my God, how long has this been going on?”

Liz smiled and increased her pace. Only Rachel. Gossip motivated her where werewolves wouldn’t.

“How long, Lizzy? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“About as long as you’ve been giving me a hard time about it.” Liz smirked. “I don’t tell you everything.”

“I knew no one could study that much! I want all the details.” Rachel pressed, Liz’s personal life crowding out thoughts of fear or hunger.

***

The sun’s warm glow had kept the worst of the fear in the shadows, constantly on their heels but out of sight. Now that night blanketed the forest, the full moon lit their path, casting everything in shadows that lunged at them with talons of trees and branches. Liz pushed them harder and faster with every snapping twig and every swaying shadow.

The third time Rachel stumbled, she forced herself to stop.

“Need a break?” Liz leaned against the tree behind her, wondering if it would be better to try and climb a tree. Wait for daylight. The temperature continued to drop and they were both exhausted. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stay on her feet, let alone keep Rachel on hers.

“Yeah.” Rachel slid down the trunk of a tree, groaning as she went.

A cool breeze picked up, rustling the trees and shrubs around them, and setting Liz’s teeth and nerves on edge. The wind caught a distant howl, carrying it across God only knew what distance, raising the hair on the back of her neck. Rachel’s wide brown eyes sought hers in the darkness.

“Should we get moving?”

“Are you up to it?”

Rachel heaved a sigh and pushed herself up. “If I have to be.” Exhaustion saturated Rachel’s movements. Even if she got up, she wasn’t going to go far.

“Nah. That was faint. The wind probably carried it several miles.” Liz rubbed her arms against the chill, hoping she was right.

Hopefully, a short break would reenergize them. Right now it took everything she had to stay focused on getting through the night. She didn’t know what she would do when the sun crested the trees, revealing miles more of forest. They could wander for days. Weeks.

Liz shut down that line of thought.

Focus on something tangible.

She sat down next to Rachel, leaning into her, sharing her warmth.

Focus on the morning. Go from there.

Rachel’s head hit her shoulder and Liz snapped her eyes open. She hadn’t even been aware she’d closed them. Stretching her stiff legs out in front of her, cold dread slid into her mind, forcing her completely awake. How long had she slept?

She glanced down at her watch. Twenty minutes or so.

Thank God it wasn’t longer.

“Rach, come on. We can’t sleep yet.”

Rachel’s eyes blinked open.

“Come on, we need to get moving again.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.” Liz hoisted herself from the ground, groaning as aching muscles stretched and protested against the strain and cold. “Come on.” She extended a hand to Rachel and pulled her to her feet.

They walked in silence for a long time, moonlight streaming through the trees, lighting their path. As they crested the top of a steep hill, Rachel stopped and bent at the waist, panting heavily. Liz understood why, her legs burned and cramped, every step forward reminded her harshly of every step behind her.

“I’ve got to rest, Lizzy.” Rachel wheezed out. “I’m sorry. But I’ve got to take a break.”

“Okay.” Liz tried to get her bearings. She couldn’t see or hear the river anymore. They needed to find it again. Not only did she hope it would lead to civilization, but it kept them from walking around in circles.

“Alright, you take a break. I’m going to take a look at what’s up there,” Liz said, pointing up the incline that rose to their left. “Maybe I can figure out which way to go.”

“Okay.” Rachel didn’t move from where she leaned against a tree, her eyes closed and her face pale.

Liz gripped her elbow and shook her until she opened her eyes. “We’ll take a break, Rach. But don’t sit down and don’t fall asleep, okay?”

Rachel’s forehead furrowed and she shook her head.

“I know you’re tired. But if you sit down your muscles are going to get cold and cramp again.”

Rachel opened her eyes, but didn’t respond.

“I know it’s tempting to sit, but it’s only going to hurt more when we get moving again. Rest, but stay on your feet, okay?” Liz pressed.

Rachel closed her eyes again and leaned more heavily into the tree behind her.

“Rachel?” Liz squeezed her arm, unwilling to leave until she’d extracted a promise.

“Fine.”

Relieved, Liz stepped back. “I’m not going far.”

“Yeah, fine.”

“I won’t be long.”

Rachel didn’t respond but she stayed on her feet.

Good enough.

It took her the better part of fifteen minutes to crest the top; she’d had to use her hands to pull herself up the top third of the hill in places to keep from slipping.

She stretched, breathed out hard, and watched her breath fog and float away on the air. Below her moonlight glinted and shined like light reflected off hammered silver. The river flowed, fast and wide beneath her, less than a half-mile away. She followed its snaking mass, tracking its path until it faded into the dark horizon.

Just before the river passed beyond the range of her vision, two tiny spots of yellow, not unlike a predator’s night-eyes appeared, seeming to float above the water, slowly growing larger.

A car! A bridge, unidentifiable in the dark, connected the two river banks.

Relieved and excited, renewed energy surged through her. The terrain didn’t look too bad. If they pressed hard they could probably reach the bridge, and hopefully help, in an hour or so.

Galvanized, Liz turned and started the climb down, eager to finally be able to give Rachel more than hollow encouragements. As she began to navigate the steepest part of the terrain, Rachel’s scream pierced the air. Startled, Liz slipped. She snatched desperately for something to stop her, the plants and roots tearing up her palms before she snagged something.

She unclenched her fingers and carefully crawled down backwards, using her hands to grip vegetation and keep her balance. Heavy silence descended, pressing against her, forcing her adrenaline to surge, her breathing was thunderous to her own ears. Rachel wasn’t screaming. Nothing moved. Insects didn’t chirp. Bushes and trees ceased rustling. It was as though time stopped.

Screaming erupted again, closer this time, and Liz forced herself faster. The first scream had been terrified. This one was agonized. And it didn’t stop.

“Rachel!”

No answer. The screaming died again.

“Rachel!” Rachel’s screams terrified her. Her lack of response horrified her.

“Rachel, answer me.” Nothing. No crying. No yelling. Just heavy silence. Liz hit level ground, pushed to her feet and took the remaining slope as fast as she dared, gravity adding momentum. She hit flat terrain hard and stumbled, but forced her feet to hold her. She searched wildly for any sign of Rachel.

Hysteria pressed against her, adding frenzy to her actions. Why had she left Rachel alone? They’d sworn they’d stay together. Desperate, Liz called out again. “Rachel!”

“Lizzy…” Rachel answered, struggling with the final syllables as if speaking was the hardest thing she’d ever done.

Liz spun toward the voice. Less than twenty feet away, Rachel struggled up from the forest floor. Her agonized expression conveyed her disbelief more effectively than any words she could have spoken. Blood painted the front of her sweater, flowing from a gaping wound across her collarbone. Her face stood out, an unnaturally white beacon in the middle of the forest. She trembled as she tried to stay on her feet.

Shock. She’s going into shock.

Rachel stumbled forward and crashed to her knees, jerking Liz into action. She sprung forward, Rachel’s name on the tip of her tongue even as a wolf, huge and snarling leaped against Rachel. The beast’s bulk dwarfed her, obscuring everything but the sight of jaws closing around her throat. “No!”

Liz rushed forward, searching the darkness and the forest floor for Rachel and the wolf. Stumbling, she went down hard. The knees of her jeans ripped against the brush and her hands collided with something soft and warm.

Rachel!

Liz curled her fingers into Rachel’s shoulder and flipped her onto her back.

Brown eyes, usually swimming with the emotion of the moment, stared sightlessly into her own. Liz choked on a sob as she let her eyes travel over the face of her best friend. She ran fingers along the side of her cheek, hoping for a response, anything at all. Her fingers slid through something warm. Blood. So much blood. Even as she gagged, Liz pressed her hands hard against the shredded mess that used to be Rachel’s neck.

“No, no, no, no, no.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as flesh slipped between her fingers.

“That won’t help.” Heavily accented English cut the air.

Liz sought the voice in the darkness, vaguely surprised she didn’t recognize it. Ivan. Markko’s younger brother stood, seemingly fascinated, a few feet away. He wiped a hand against his human face, smearing blood from his mouth across his cheek and against the back of his arm.

“I took her throat.” He said it as though it mystified him. “It was… interesting.”

Liz watched, horrified, as an amused and bloody grin spread across his face. “My first hunt. My first human kill.” He paced forward. “I’ve killed boar. And deer, of course. But this…” He swept a hand in their direction, “It was everything Markko promised. Primal. Exhilarating.”

“I wonder…” His gaze traveled curiously over his fingers as he flexed and curled them. “I wonder. Hands in place of teeth. Human instead of beast. How does it compare?”

Liz forced herself to slide away from Rachel, groping the earth behind her as he lunged. Her fingers curled around wood as he overwhelmed her, forcing her into the forest floor.

“Lucky you’re here, no?” He smiled at her, every bit the animal that had murdered Rachel. “Which kill will I enjoy more?”

Calloused hands wrapped around her throat. Liz slammed the stick in her hand as hard as she could against his side. He laughed as it broke like a twig against rock. His grin widened and his grip tightened, seizing the air from her lungs as she kicked wildly beneath him, groping the forest around them with blind hands.

“This is good.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Your panic…” He groaned and thrust forward, the proof of his sadistic excitement brushing her thigh.

Her fingers curled around smooth stone, frantically digging at the edges, prying it from the earth.

“Your blood struggles beneath my hands. Hers spilled against my tongue. Will it taste the same?” He tilted his head and his face shifted, lengthened and pointed into a grotesque combination of man and wolf. He forced her head to the side, dove forward and buried long canines into the juncture of her shoulder and neck.

Pain and fury surged from her throat as teeth tore into her flesh. Liz slammed the rock into the side of his head with all of the remaining strength she possessed. His hands immediately retracted and she sucked the cool forest air into her lungs as she swung again. He toppled sideways, groaning in pain instead of pleasure. She rolled to her knees, struggling for breath as the world spun around her. She didn’t wait for it to stop.

She swung.

Again.

And again.

Until he couldn’t laugh. Or groan. Or move.

***

“Was he dead?” Braden asked.

“I…” Beth’s voice cracked. She took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth, willing the metallic tang of blood from her memory. “I don’t know.” A tissue pressed into her palm. “I don’t remember a lot after that.”

“How did you get out of the woods?”

Beth struggled for the details. She remembered walking. Frozen and numb for what felt like hours. But that was all. “I don’t know. I found a road. All I remember after that is headlights bearing down on me.” Breaks squealing and people shouting frantically emerged, then faded into her memory. “Everything’s blurry for almost a week after that. I must have answered some questions. They were able to find…they found her. Put me on a plane home. Other than that…”

She jerked her arm away from the hand Braden extended. He’d tried a couple of times to touch her or comfort her as she relayed the story. Each time, she’d jerked away from him. She’d seen his expressions. She knew it hurt him.

I don’t care.

“You were hospitalized for some time…” Mr. Edwards’s voice trailed off. He’d been a calm, steady influence through the entire conversation. “We understand you spent some time being treated for mental wounds.”

Beth laughed, harsh and grating. He put it so delicately. “They thought I’d lost my mind.” She’d been manic in her insistence of what had happened. “I swore to everyone who would listen that Rachel had been murdered by werewolves. Everyone thought I’d suffered a psychotic break.” Beth struggled to regain the artificial calm that had blanketed her as she’d told the story.

“That must have been very difficult.” Mr. Edwards replaced the tissue she’d shredded with a fresh one.

“Yeah.” The hardest part had been seeing the Colliers’ horrified expressions. Watching Mr. Collier’s eyes shutter as he comforted his wife every time she sobbed when Beth had to be sedated for another paranoia-induced rant. “They admitted me for my own protection. It took weeks before I was calm enough to start therapy.”

“They talked, over and over and over again, about how I was blurring two events in my head. Said I was trying to rationalize the trauma.” She rubbed her arms and wrists, the feel of the safety restraints heavy against her skin. “It took awhile, but they talked me into their version of events. Rachel and I had been kidnapped and set loose to be hunted in the woods. But after that…” Beth squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed a weary hand across her forehead. “After that, they said a wolf had gotten to Rachel. Insisted wolves were common in the area. Natural night hunters. They said I was blurring the two events together and creating a wild story to cope with her death.”

“You believed them?”

Braden’s soft question plowed into her. “Of course I did!”

He jerked back as if the force of her anger had been a physical blow. “They were perfectly logical. Werewolves don’t exist. They’re figments of our imagination. Caricatures of fear. When that didn’t convince me, they pointed out that I’d been bitten. I had two dozen stitches and a round of rabies vaccines to prove it.” Her anger abandoned her in a whoosh, leaving her hollow and exhausted. “A month passed. A full moon come and gone. I never changed. So logically…”

“It’s one of many misconceptions. It often takes months for the symptoms to manifest.” Mr. Edwards leaned back into his chair, as if allowing her a little space to deal with the revelation. “Lycanthropy is like a disease in many regards, and like a disease, it takes time to incubate, to fully affect the body.”

Beth glanced up. The question on the tip of her tongue must have been written on her face because she didn’t have to voice it.

“There’s no stopping it from taking hold. No cure once bitten.”

Beth nodded and looked away, staring vacantly at the far wall. She hadn’t thought there would be.

“How did you end up in Portland?” He left the and in my son’s bed unvoiced.

Beth lifted her gaze and tilted her head.

I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.

“I’d been attending outpatient therapy for months. I started trying to put my life back together. I went to the gym. Ate regular meals. Slept four or five hours at a stretch. I started considering getting a job or going back to school.” Beth remembered those months, walking through the days like a wraith, barely existing.

“Then the full moon came again and I changed.” Ghostly sensations of the terror that had ripped through her when the first fierce spasms of the shift wrenched her to the ground slid through her again. “I couldn’t hide from it any longer. And I couldn’t stay in Boston. It wasn’t fair to Rachel’s family. Less than a week later, I packed up my car and started across the country. I started going by Beth. I took seasonal jobs. Moved around a lot. Every time I’d get settled in a new city, start to know my way around, I’d get restless and leave again. I don’t know why.”

“You stuck to the big cities on the West Coast, right?” Braden interjected.

“I went to Denver first. Spent about a month looking for Allison. I’d hoped…” she shrugged.

“That you weren’t alone,” Mr. Edwards supplied. “You never found her?”

“No. So I moved to L.A., then San Francisco. Thought about trying San Diego, but came here instead.” Beth caught Braden’s gaze and let all of her hurt and anger swim across her face. “Portland was the first place I actually thought about staying. I liked working at Angie’s, liked Angie and Marianne. And then I switched to the morning shift and you walked in, and I liked you, too.” She felt heat infusing her cheeks and angry, betrayed tears burn at the corners of her eyes. She jerked her face away from him. “I had no idea.”

Mr. Edwards nodded his assent, seeming to accept her words as truth. “I can at least shed a little light onto why you felt as restless as you did. It’s fairly uncommon to find our kind in large cities. In fact, most of the North American Werewolf population resides in places like Alaska, Canada and the northwest portion of the U.S. There are also some small pockets and groups tucked in around the Rockies. Most of us aren’t cut out for city life. It’s too hectic. Too loud. Too closed in and polluted. It often results in that itchy, restless feeling you described. You probably mistook it for fear.”

“Yeah.” How many times had she jumped at shadows? How many nights had she been afraid to enter her apartment alone?

“I’d say that’s natural. Portland probably felt more natural to you for two reasons. First, time was starting to distance the memories. You were becoming more relaxed. Right?”

She jerked her head once. How could she have been so stupid? Even if things hadn’t turned out this way, what had she thought would happen? A normal life—with normal friends and normal relationships—was something she couldn’t have. And deep down, she’d known it.

“The other reason is that for a city its size, Portland has done a remarkable job preserving the natural surroundings. The mountains as well as several state and national parks, lie just to the east, and there are an abundance of parks throughout the city. People like us, people balancing the wolf and everyday life, are drawn to cities like Portland. It’s not surprising you were, too.”

“Portland provided you a blend of security,” Braden spoke up. “It soothed the instincts that told you to stay in large cities, to blend into the general population. It also satisfied the wolf’s need to be near nature, near areas it would feel comfortable.”

Beth burrowed her fingers through her hair and drew her knees to her chest. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t care about the wolf’s needs.

“I’m afraid we owe you an apology, Elizabeth.” Mr. Edwards stood and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Beth allowed it, amazed she found it so easy to accept a friendly gesture from this man. Even as he stood above her, looking weary and wearing a kind smile, he managed to share some of his stillness.

Does he ever lose his temper?

“I hope you’ll accept that we mean you no harm. But we knew Markko was in Portland and our families have a violent history.” He moved toward the door, gently squeezing Braden’s shoulder as he went. “When you began to shift, my boys responded as though you were an enemy. It was necessary, but I apologize all the same.” He smiled a little and pulled the door open. “We’ll do our best to make it up to you.”

Stunned by his easy acceptance of her story, Beth cleared her throat. “I just want to go home.”

The reassuring smile slipped from his face. “I’m afraid that I cannot allow that.”

Beth rose to her feet, her fear surging back, burning hot in her stomach. “I’ve answered all of your questions. You have no right to keep me here.”

“I understand. Truly I do. But I cannot in good conscience allow you to go while Markko remains a threat.” He pulled the door open, as though the conversation was finished. “Braden will get you anything you need. Please make yourself at home. Take a warm shower. When you’re done come upstairs, we’ll have breakfast and I’ll call Mike, our family doctor, to take a look at those hands.”

Before Beth could protest that she didn’t want a doctor, or breakfast, or a shower, or that she just wanted to get the fuck out of here, he closed the door. Frustrated, she turned her anger on Braden. “You can’t keep me here. This is kidnapping!”

Braden rose and carefully took a step back toward the door. He looked her over as if he expected to see her attack him at any moment.

You deserve it, you bastard.

For the first time, Beth really looked at him. Regret showed in every line of his body and the flatness of his expression. A spectacular bruise covered his temple and a neat row of stitches marched into his hair. She couldn’t restrain the grim smile that curled her lips.

He opened his mouth to say something, and then snapped it shut. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry.” The surprise that crossed his features indicated that wasn’t at all what he’d meant to say.

“I don’t care.” Beth’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything. I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”

His face pinched, as though the words truly hurt. Resigned, his shoulders dropped. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“He hasn’t hurt me in years.”

Braden flinched, but didn’t defend himself against the implication. “You’ve got fresh towels, I’ll go see if I can find something of my sister’s for you to wear.”

He opened the door. “For what it’s worth, Beth, I am sorry.” He pulled the door shut behind him before she could form a reply.

She paced the room for several minutes, debating what to do. Finally, she reached for the door, testing the knob beneath her palm. It twisted in her hand and the door swung open. He hadn’t locked her in. She stood in the threshold, paralyzed with indecision. She could leave, but even if she made it out of the house, she had no idea where she was.

And Markko was still out there. Waiting. She couldn’t go back to her apartment, not even to get her Jeep.

She slammed the door and turned to the bathroom. For now, at least, she’d have to trust that Mr. Edwards would keep his promise. She had nowhere else to go.