Chapter 7 Spirit Pack, 2015

I didn’t sleep.

Not really.

I lay there in Adrian’s too-warm bed with the covers pulled halfway over my body, every breath stuck behind my ribs, and every nerve on fire. 

The room was quiet, but my head was screaming. I kept seeing bones break in reverse, snapping back into place like they were elastic. I kept hearing that howl—that low, guttural, not-human sound that still lived under my skin.

How did I get to Adrian’s bed? Maybe I passed out again and he took me to his room to attend me. He has been very nice and seems to show care at every opportunity. 

All the same, I feel more comfortable here. But where is the damn guy? 

I was not feeling better anyway…

And worst of all, I kept replaying what Derek said outside my house.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

He didn’t even flinch. Didn’t try to lie or gaslight me. He just stood there with those too-bright eyes and let the truth rot in the silence between us. And then he said it.

“You should be scared.”

I’d laughed. I don’t know why. Some ugly reflex, like if I didn’t laugh, I’d scream or break. Maybe run straight into traffic.

Now the sun was up and I was still wearing yesterday’s hoodie, staring at the ceiling like it could explain anything.

Adrian was gone by the time I crept downstairs. There was a plate of eggs on the counter that were definitely cold and a note that just said, “Eat something. Don’t be late.” No smiley face. 

So I skipped breakfast and walked to school like I hadn’t found a photo of my dead mother holding a silver dagger next to the boy who now played bodyguard-slash-dictator. Maybe it was a different Adrian. A cousin or a clone. It could be terrible prank, God knows.

Or maybe I should stop pretending I didn’t already know the answer.

Lucy found me at my locker. Her nose crinkled the second she looked at me.

“You look like death.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, shoving a binder in my bag.

“I mean it in a concerned-best-friend way. You disappeared on that camping trip. Like—two full hours. Then you came back looking like you saw a ghost and didn’t say a word.”

I hesitated. That was the problem. I didn’t see a ghost. I saw a monster. Or maybe something worse.

“I got lost,” I said.

“In the woods? With who?”

My throat tightened. “Alone.”

Lucy didn’t buy it. “Audrey.”

“I said I got lost.”

She gave me a blink. She was obviously considering dropping it or continuing to push. Lucy was as sharp as she appeared in those worn boots and big hoodies. I was the worst liar in the world, and she was able to know when people were lying.

But she let it go. For now.

“Fine. You smell like anxiety and dry shampoo. Come to chem before you melt.”

Derek wasn’t in school again.

I checked the hallways between every period. During lunch, I even stayed outside his locker, feigning to browse through my phone as my heart pounded violently against my ribs.

Nothing.

No text. No sign. No apology.

Like he’d vanished with the woods.

I detested my intense want to see him.

 I hated the fact that I had no idea who he was, yet I couldn't get the way he stared at me out of my head.  As if he was in love with me.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Not the silence. Not the lies. Not the box of secrets rotting in the attic while I wandered through school pretending, I gave a crap about ionic bonds.

So I cornered Adrian.

Between fifth and sixth period. By the vending machines. His jaw was tight, hoodie half unzipped, and that don’t test me expression already sitting heavy on his face.

“You owe me answers.”

He didn’t even blink. “Not here.”

“Then where? since I've had enough of waiting.  You continue to ignore me and act as though I'm hallucinating, but I'm not.  Adrian, I saw him. I saw it.”

His eyes flicked around. “Lower your voice.”

“Don’t tell me what to do—”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“No, you’re trying to control me.”

His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. Not hard. Not enough to leave a bruise. But enough to shut me up.

His voice dropped so low it vibrated. “You need to stop digging.”

My stomach flipped. The grip wasn’t the scary part. It was the look in his eyes. Flat and empty. Not like Adrian. Not even human.

“Let go,” I whispered.

Yes, he did.  As simple as that.  However, the warning persisted in clinging to the bitter and sticky air between us.

 My mouth tasted like rust and my knees felt like static, but I turned and left.

 I returned to the attic that evening.

There was still the box.  Still partially covered with guilt and dust.  With trembling hands, I opened it and turned the pages once more, finding the photo, half-burned doodles, and torn journal entries.

 I saw my younger mom in the photo with hair tied back, pants and boots on.  She was wielding a silver dagger as if she knew just how to use it.

Next to her, Adrian, or a boy who looked like Adrian with the same eyes and the same stubborn jaw. But his hand was on her shoulder.  He was smiling.

There was a note on the back. Just three words, scrawled in faded ink.

“Spirit Pack. 2015.”

I didn’t know what Spirit Pack was. But I knew what it sounded like. A name, a group and a secret.

I curled the photo into my fist and stood up. That’s when I heard the knock.

I froze with my heart dropped into my stomach.

Another knock. Not frantic. Not loud. Just there.

I crept down the stairs and opened the front door a crack.

Derek stood on the porch.

Wearing black, soaked from the rain I didn’t realize had started falling. His hair was wet and his eyes—

They weren’t gold anymore.

They were empty.

He remained silent while I widened the door. He was merely gazing at me as if I were a forgotten and buried object that had now crawled back up.

"I need to talk to you." He said. 

“No kidding.”

“I didn’t mean for you to get pulled into any of this.”

“Too late.”

“I thought I could avoid it. Stay away and let Adrian play guard dog and keep you in the dark. But they can't ignore you, can they?

 I crossed my arms and tried not to shake when I spoke.

“You growled at me. You disappeared and you didn’t text. In fact, you looked at me like you wanted to bite me—”

His mouth twisted. “I did?”

Silence.

Then I laughed. Sharply with Disbelieve in my tone.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You don’t know what it’s like. The way your scent hits. The way it feels when you get close. It’s not normal.”

“Seriously?”

He took a step forward. I didn’t move.

“You want the truth?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You’re not just some random girl, Audrey. You’re blood  marked. You’re connected to something bigger. Something dangerous.”

“Spirit Pack?”

His whole body went still. Like I’d said the name of a ghost.

“Where did you hear that?”

“My mother’s journals.”

His throat bobbed. “Then she knew. God, she knew.” I made eye contact with him.  Derek, what did she know?  Who am I?

 He gave me the impression that he was going to respond.

 The lawn was then sliced when headlights from a car approaching the house flashed through our direction.

Another visitor.

Adrian

He stepped out of the driver’s seat, jaw clenched, storm in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he barked. Derek didn’t flinch. “She has a right to know.”

“You think now is the time?”

“It’s past time.”

I stepped between them. “Enough.”

Neither any of them listened to me.  They were too preoccupied with assessing one another. Like two wolves poised to slit each other's throats, 

And maybe they were.