“I like the smell of strawberries, but I wouldn’t want my clothes to smell like them. It’s a good smell, but not right for clothes. So, although my scent may be pleasant to several, it might not be just right for any of them. Because of the nuance between an alluring scent and the rightness of that scent, nature threw in a backup plan. It’s something we feel deep inside ourselves, like a tug in our stomach, reeling us toward the one we’re meant to be with. The scent calls us, possibly from a greater distance than we can see, but the pull cinches the deal.”
My eyes locked on Emmitt, and my stomach summersaulted as usual. Panic flared. What was Nana telling me? Emmitt continued to play with the boys, but I could tell by the cant of his head that he listened. Was he waiting for me to try to run?
Nana reached over and patted my hand.
“It’s a lot to take in, but nothing to worry about. With humans, we werewolves typically don’t feel or scent anything that would indicate we’re compatible with you. Oh, a few have tried to have relationships, but they were shallow connections that never lasted long.”
Emmitt cast a quick scowl at Nana over his shoulder before returning to the game he played with my brothers.
Nana picked up a water bottle lying in the shade of her bag and handed it to me. “Would you like me to tell you more about our kind?”
Until she mentioned the last bit about humans and werewolves not working, I’d been tying my mental running shoes, thinking my vision an inevitable outcome. Could I take more? Think of your brothers, I told myself. If I wanted to avoid the fate Blake had planned for me, I had to understand what his words had meant and why he’d forced those monthly dinners.
I nodded, took a sip of water, and tried to relax.
“Werewolves live in packs. Historically, at least as far back as we can remember, packs were small with an alpha pair leading maybe three other Mated pairs and their young. Since Charlene came to us, Emmitt and Jim’s mother, there have been several changes, which include all of the smaller packs merging into a large one. Charlene put the backbone back in our pack and brought us together by sheer determination. It’s because of her plans for pack growth that I am here with Emmitt and Jim. We are trying to establish another pack location because the main one in Canada is growing too large for the space.
“Our society is like any other in that we each have a place in it. Elders are the keepers of knowledge and peace. Pack leaders keep the peace within their own pack, but Elders keep the peace between packs. Almost all werewolves belong to a pack. However, some werewolves choose to live on their own. Those we call Forlorn. They can still hear the Elders and have the same compulsion to obey, but they follow no pack leader.”
“So Emmitt’s mom is the pack leader?” I asked trying to wrap my head around everything she’d shared.
Nana laughed softly. “Technically, no. Emmitt’s father is the leader. But Charlene influences the pack in her own right.”
I mulled over the information. General information about werewolves was helpful and none of it sounded too bad, but I didn’t see how it connected to what Blake said the night he pinned me to the wall.
“Where in there does biting become involved?” The question slid out of my mouth before I could consider how it sounded.
Nana gave a little cough, Jim roared with laughter, and Emmitt gazed at me, looking troubled. I dropped my eyes to the sand, feeling a flush creep into my face. Apparently, biting wasn’t a polite topic of conversation for werewolves, either.
“Can I ask where these questions are coming from?” she asked after a moment.
“Just curious,” I mumbled. “Maybe we should eat lunch,” I suggested diverting the direction of our conversation.
I didn’t ask any further questions for the rest of the day even though Nana offered to continue her explanation of their race. Instead, I moved away from the water to sit in the shade of the trees that lined the beach. Humidity weighed the air, making it difficult to breathe as the day progressed.
Before the sun set, we packed up and headed back home. I insisted on dinner in our own apartment. No one liked my answer. My gaze locked briefly with Emmitt’s before I turned to go upstairs.
If werewolves and humans weren’t a thing, why had Blake’s men scented me? More to the point, why had Emmitt? I had no doubt that was what he’d done when he held me just outside of Nana’s door. Were they all just looking for a “shallow connection” with me because of my premonitions? That answer would make sense if Emmitt knew about my premonitions.
* * * *
My stock market premonition struck before the boys finished breakfast. It marked the end of our second week away from Blake. So much had happened in that time yet, other than moving locations, nothing fundamental had changed. Blake still trapped me. He held me through my fear of discovery. That, and the fact that werewolves were still present in my life, kept me wary. I’d been used for my predictions for too long to trust easily.
Liam and Aden raced downstairs to bug Emmitt and Jim, and I absently followed. How I could smoothly pass along the information without being obvious?
The humidity from the day before still lingered. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I sat in the shade of the porch. Jim eyed our glistening faces and ran into town, returning with a sprinkler. The boys squealed with excitement once he explained its purpose. Another first for them.
I watched them from the porch, not feeling up to joining in the fun. Emmitt stayed close, watching me. I struggled to hide any visible sign of the worry I felt as the ticker continued to run.
Nana stepped onto the porch, making her first appearance of the day. She held her cordless phone to her ear.
“Michelle, I have my friend on the phone from last week. He wanted to thank you for your recommendation, which looks really good so far, and he wanted me to ask if you had any other advice.”
I stared at her for a moment, thinking. This was perfect, but I couldn’t just spew out the information again with Emmitt watching so closely.
“Uh, I haven’t looked at the paper, yet. If we have one, I can take a look at it. Maybe you could give your friend a call back later this afternoon?”
I hoped it would look like I had researched the information and had just been very lucky. I would have to figure out something else for the next one, though. Three in a row wouldn’t go unnoticed.
Nana nodded and disappeared inside as she conveyed the message. She came back a moment later with the paper.
* * * *
The next morning, the boys excitedly ran downstairs. I had no reason not to let them terrorize the neighbors. Aden came back up a minute later crying because Jim had already left for work.
To console him, I suggested we cook for Jim. Aden perked up at the prospect. We decided on some cookies. While we measured out the flour, Nana knocked on the door.
“Good morning, Michelle. Liam mentioned he didn’t know the ABC song. Would you mind if they spent some time with me a few times a week so I can work on their alphabet with them?”
I stared at her as a horrible, sinking guilt made me shrink inside. My brothers had been denied so much. As soon as they could speak, they hadn’t left the house, and their care had fully fallen to me. Defiance on my part had meant a lock down for all of us. When locked in our separate rooms, they went without food or contact, except for each other. David hadn’t liked kids and only tolerated them outside of their room when they kept quiet. I’d taught them basic things that applied to our caged life at the time but hadn’t thought of teaching them more.
Something must have shown on my face because Nana stepped further into the apartment, looking concerned.