15

While I was still looking at Alice’s home from afar, I picked up on sounds that had no business being there. Wolf cackles. This far from the reservation, these cackles could not have come from any of my pack.

I raced through the forest, my heart beating fast, and came to the diner where I’d first rescued Alice. On the other side of the diner, where the town limit ended, I could see the pack of Howls, peeking from behind the trees.

I craved a fight. Especially now that my romantic prospects were bleak.

I crossed the bounds of the town, purposely heading into the Howl’s territory. I climbed up the hill where the wolves were peeking from and shifted into my human form.

“Didn’t I make it clear to you dipshits to stay away from this place?” I snapped.

One by one, they shifted into humans. It did appear that they were looking for a fight, given that their expressions were remorseful and placid.

“We come in peace. Well, sort of,” one of them said.

“What is it?”

“Heard you’re the new alpha.”

“Heard yours almost died.”

They chuckled amongst themselves. “Terror Trevor’s taken worse beatings in his life. He’ll live. But that’s not why we’re here.”

“What do you want?” I asked sternly. “These areas are off-limits.”

“Actually, you’re wrong. We never came into town. It’s you who’s stepping on our turf. We have legitimate cause to attack you right now, but as we said, that’s not why we’re here. We wanted to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Three of our pack are missing. No warning, no letters. They just up and left. We think that there’s someone or something behind that. Would you happen to know of anything?”

Even though they were a rival pack and even though they had done more than their fair share to upset the balance of this town, I was obliged as a fellow wolf to lend a hand. It was part of the Creed.

“None of my pack have harmed any of yours. I can vouch for that. However, as your kind, I want to give you a warning. The Department of Preternatural Control’s been tightening its ranks around us. All of us. It won’t matter what pack you are a part of. They want to end the lineage of wolves. If I were you, I would look after my own. Keep them close. We’ve lost one of our own, too. The alpha before me. We suspect that it’s the DOPC. Alert your pack,” I said.

“Gee, thanks. For someone who beat up our alpha not more than a week ago, you’re being awfully chummy with us,” one of the Howls said.

“Let’s just say I’m feeling sentimental,” I said.

I shifted and hopped over back to my side of the town, making sure from there that the Howls didn’t come any closer.

On my way back to the reservation, I stopped by Alice’s house one more time. The light in her window was on. I could see what she was doing. She was reading a book, lying on her stomach on her bed, a cup of some hot beverage steaming on the bedside table.

Was she aware of the hold she had over me?

Was she causing me this pain deliberately?

I needed a drink. This kind of sorrow, only whiskey could heal.

I scouted the perimeter once more before I headed to the bar, ready to drown my sorrows in Jack Daniels or whatever cheap stuff I could drink in large amounts.

The bar was a dingy joint on the interstate well out of town. I couldn’t afford to visit a bar in the town. People would see me, people would talk. At least here, the only other patrons beside me were truck drivers, bikers, and the occasional wanderer who had no idea how far they’d wandered into the Indiana wilderness.

I sat down at the bar. My shoes stuck to the ground. I looked down in disgust and saw a puddle of puke I’d just stepped on.

“What’s got you down, hon?” the bartender asked me.

“Hey, don’t you go to my school?” I looked at her and spoke. “Sin Harlow, right?”

“Keep your voice down or we’ll both get booted. They can’t know I’m under twenty-one. Speaking of that, why are you here?”

“Looking for answers at the bottom of a bottle,” I said.

“Lover’s quarrel?” Sin asked.

“How would you know?”

“Well, it’s not likely for quarterbacks to put their reputation on the line on a weekday and visit a bar. It’s either something wrong in the ladylove department or maybe you’re getting a jump start on your alcoholism career. Whatever it is, I’m fine with it if you pay your tab at the end of the night,” she said and shrugged.

“Whiskey, please. Neat.”

One shot.

Two shots.

Three.

By the fourth one, things had started to become a bit blurry and hot. I could feel the whiskey burning a trail down my throat and landing in my belly, where it erupted like warm magma.

“This one’s from the gentleman in the booth,” Sin said, putting a bottle of beer in front of me. “I’d say get out while you’re ahead, kid. You’re a lightweight. Don’t want any more vomit on the floor.”

I swiveled to see who this mysterious patron was that had offered me a drink. He was a man drenched in the booth’s shadow. I couldn’t make out who he was. My alcohol-induced bravado made me get up, beer in hand, and walk up to him.

It was Terror Trevor, one arm in a cast, body wrapped up in bandages, his face a puffed-up ball of purple.

“Looks like you’ve had some night,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” I sat down across from him.

“This ain’t your territory. This is the interstate. Free market,” he said.

“What’s with the drink?”

“Well, consider it a congratulatory drink for beating me fair and square.”

“I doubt it,” I said. “But thanks.”

“I should be the one thanking you.”

“Why’s that?”