Brush With Death (11 page)

I
t was nice
being back in the cabin with my closest friends.  Even having Simon around
wasn’t so bad.  Maybe I had been too quick to judge Emma’s choice of
boyfriend.  The two looked happy together.

Even if he was an old geezer. 

The most surprising thing was that Simon, a total playboy,
wasn’t bragging about his exploits with other women.  It was obvious that he
only had eyes for Emma.  The guy was completely in orbit around her.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Simon wasn’t a total pain
in my butt.  He was the most annoying werewolf on the planet, but he was Emma’s
werewolf.  I was just going to have to get my head around that.

“I still think we need to focus on the smell impressions,” I
said.  “The different scents always mean something significant.”

“You think the smells could be clues to the ghost’s identity
and lead us to the killer?” Cal asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Only you lot would follow a ghostly trail of smelly
breadcrumbs,” Simon said, shaking his head.  “I still think we need to watch
that burial site.  The Grabber may return.”

“What if we do both?” Emma said.  “Calvin, can you ask
someone from your pack to watch the place where Yuki found the skull?”

Cal looked thoughtful, then nodded.

“Yes, I’ll call now,” he said.  “I also need to put a
warning out on the network about a potential killer being in town.  The Grabber
may not be targeting werewolves, but my people need to be prepared.”

“Aye, I’ll fire up the computer and post a warning message,”
Simon said.

Cal pulled his phone from his pocket, while Simon busied
himself with the old PC in the corner.

We had learned the hard way that a phone and email messaging
system was crucial to pack safety.  In the past, werewolf leaders had preferred
secrecy rather than keeping an open line of communication within the pack. 
When a psychotic killer who hated werewolves went on a violent rampage, there
was no system in place for contacting members of the pack who may be in danger.

Together we researched member identities, made a list of
contact information, created emergency protocols, formed a call circle, and
designed a computer program for sending messages electronically to all pack
members.  Cal had only been pack alpha for less than a year, but he was already
making improvements to ensure the survival of his pack. 

Cal was gravely serious about his responsibility as pack
alpha.  Ever since we were kids, he’d been the deep thinking philosophical
one.  When Cal set his mind to something, he didn’t quit.  Now his pack duties
dominated much of his time, but he never shirked his duties.  It was one of the
many things about Cal that I found attractive.

I realized that I was staring at something else I found
attractive about Cal, and blushed.  There should be a law about looking that
good in a pair of jeans.  Turning to Emma, I lifted my empty mug in salute.

“Thanks for the tea,” I said.

“Hey,” Emma said. 

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I just want you to know that you can talk to me, about
anything,” she said.  “Any time, okay?”

Emma reached out and gave me an awkward hug, crushing the
mug against my chest.

“Okay,” I said.

That was weird.  Maybe she was feeling guilty about our
recent fighting?  If so, she should relax.  Most of our arguments were my
fault.  I had a short fuse lately, and Emma had been an easy target.

“Um, Emma?” I said.  “Sorry about, you know, being so angry
about Simon.  He may be an old geezer, but you seem happy.”

“I heard that,” Simon said. 

Pesky werewolf hearing.

Simon kept his back to me, focusing on the computer in front
of him, but he didn’t go rigid or stop working.  I was ninety percent positive
that he wasn’t about to throw something in my direction.  But I took a step to
my left, placing myself behind Emma, just to be sure.

“We’re okay,” Emma said.  “But if I find out you’re flunking
out this semester, I’ll be extremely unhappy.”

Emma’s narrowed eyes tracked me as I moved to the other side
of the room.  Suddenly the cabin felt too small for the four of us.

Was it me, or were Emma and Simon a scary couple?  They
could make me run and hide without even twitching.

I found solace in Cal’s presence.  I don’t know if it’s a
soul mate thing, or just a Cal thing, but I always felt better when he was
close.

I leaned on the arm of the couch where Cal sat talking to a
worried pack member.  His calm voice was soothing and I tilted my head to rest
on his shoulder.  The deep vibration of his voice vibrated up through my cheek
and made me smile.

Enjoying the relaxing moment while it lasted, I let my eyes
unfocus and allowed my mind to wander.  I could smell roses over the scent of
wet dog rising from Cal. 

Roses, lanolin, and dark room chemicals.

The tang of chemicals always made my nose wrinkle whenever I
had to work in the school darkroom.  But there was something magical about
images rising from the toxic liquid, faces appearing beneath the red glow of
the work lamp.  With school almost over, I’d probably never step inside a
darkroom again.  As far as hobbies go, I preferred charcoals and paints over
film.

But some people do use darkrooms after high school.  Professional
photographers continue to work with those chemicals every day.

And the school hires professionals to photograph our
graduation ceremony each year.

“O
h em gees,”
Yuki said.

Yuki lifted her head from my shoulder so quickly that her
hair flew up to tickle my face.  I lifted an eyebrow in question and she
flapped her hands at me to hurry and get off the phone. 

The hysterical werewolf I’d been talking to was calm now and
ready to call her teenage daughter to enforce a curfew until the Grabber was
caught.  I assured her that she could call me any time and hung up.

Yuki’s eyes were open so wide she looked like a startled
owl, but a smile was creeping onto her pale face as she bounced on the arm of
the couch.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Yes, do tell,” Simon said, spinning his chair toward us.

“I know that look,” Emma said, resting a hand on Simon’s
shoulder and smiling at Yuki.  “Girl, you figured something out, right?”

“Yeah, I think I did,” Yuki said.  “Remember how I said that
the ghost smells like roses?  Well it also smells like lanolin and darkroom
chemicals.  And I was thinking…if it’s a clue to the killer’s identity, then
who would smell like darkroom chemicals…and visit Wakefield during graduation
week?”

“The school, even some of the students’ families, hire
professional photographers to photograph the graduation ceremony,” I said. 

“It’s also wedding season,” Emma said.  I raised an eyebrow
at her and she blushed all the way to the roots of her pale blond hair.  “Well,
it is and that means photographers in the area.  In fact, the second most
popular location for weddings around here, besides the beach, is the park.”

“Where Yuki found the body,” I said.

“The Graduation Grabber could totally be a photographer,”
Yuki said.  “We may be one step closer to discovering his identity.”

“And to saving Sarah Randall,” I said.

“Oh em gees, indeed,” Simon said. 

He sounded impressed.  It was about time.  I knew that it
took a lot to earn Simon’s respect, but Yuki’s paranormal abilities and problem
solving skills may have finally burrowed through his thick skull.

I let out a deep breath and leaned back in my chair.  I
finally had my pack returned to me. 

The past few months had been torture.  I tried not to let on
just how difficult Yuki and Emma’s feud was, hoping they would work through
their issues on their own and not wanting to add my own troubles to the mix, but
the fighting between my friends tormented my waking thoughts and crept into my
dreams.

I woke night after night, skin beaded with sweat and sheets
twisted into knots, from fevered nightmares.  In one, Simon stood over Yuki’s
limp body, muzzle dripping blood from the bite wound in her neck.  Even though
it was only a dream, that image haunted me. 

Things hadn’t been the same between me and Simon since that
dream.  He assumed the tension between us was due to my disapproval of his
relationship with Emma.  I didn’t disavow him of the notion.  It was easier
than trying to explain the true source of my unease. 

And I was uncomfortable with his relationship with Emma, at
least at first.  Their behavior toward each other had gone from volatile to
romantic, seemingly overnight.  I assumed that it was a passing fling, one of
many for Simon.  But instead of Simon moving on, and Emma getting hurt, my pack
lieutenant fell in love.

As far as I knew, Simon hadn’t been in a serious
relationship since Meredith.  That didn’t end well, not at all, but in that
case it wasn’t Simon’s fault.  Too bad no one at the time had been able to
convince Simon of that.

Meredith had died and Simon was sucked into a tailspin of
dangerous behavior.  Drugs, crime—if it risked death, Simon had dabbled in it. 
He left university and hit the streets running.  You could say that he never
stopped running away from that fateful day, and the pain it caused him, until
he came to Wakefield to help me and Yuki with our training.

Until he met Emma, and fell in love again.

I hadn’t wanted to alienate Simon.  I made him my pack
lieutenant because I trusted him with my life.  And though he could often be aggravating,
I had come to value his friendship.  I felt loyal to Simon and to my many years
of friendship with Emma, but there was one person who came first.

Yuki would always come first in my life. 

No matter what happens after graduation, Yuki would always
be my soul mate.  Even if Simon was correct, and I was no longer good for her,
I’d leave her, but I’d never forget her.  I would never stop loving Yuki. 

She was everything to me.

But now that my pack, the small pack sharing the cabin with
me, was beginning to come back together, I was less worried about the future. 

I felt like I could breathe again. 

I
watched
morning sunlight flicker across the brick walls of Wakefield High while Cal
pulled his truck into a parking space.  The school building seemed less like a
house of horrors now and more like a small hill to climb—a minor speed bump to
overcome.  Well, a speed bump made of bad memories, overdue textbook reading
assignments and missed homework.

Okay, maybe more like Mt. Everest, but I was hopeful.  With
Cal’s steady presence, Emma’s friendship, and Simon’s grudging respect, I felt
ready to face anything—even high school.

It’s funny what a difference one day can make.

“You are so beautiful when you smile,” Cal said, brushing the
side of my cheek.

I hadn’t realized that I was smiling, but now that he’d
brought attention to it, I could feel a grin spread wide across my face.  I had
a hunch that I’d be doing a lot more smiling soon.  High school was nearly
over, and though I was still worried about the future, I’d started to form a
plan for what I’d like to do when the summer ended.

Normally, when I looked at my calendar I noticed the moon
phases first and the number of days until Samhain second.  I hadn’t given the
future much thought beyond survival. 

But that was no way to live.

Last night while fending off inevitable sleep, and the
nightmares that it brings, I let my mind wander to happier thoughts.  If I
could do anything I wanted after high school, what would it be?  That was a
tough question.  First, I made a mental list of my favorite things—Cal, my
friends, art, anime, flea markets—then I fantasized about how these things
could become my future.

Gordy was enrolled in a program for art and digital
animation.  He was following our love of anime and manga, and was really good
at it too.  But as much as I’d love to team up with Gordy on a manga project
someday, I had a different focus.

Ever since my brush with death, I’d been able to see a
glowing aura around ghosts.  What if I used my artistic talent to paint unique
pictures of something that no one else could see? 

I loved the idea of painting something totally unique so
much I bounced on the bed and had to cover my mouth with both hands to hold in
a squee of excitement.  I crept to my desk and sat up most of the night
sketching out ideas. 

There were a few places in Wakefield where I knew I could
locate ghosts.  Perhaps, I could find my muse while helping spirits of the dead
find eternal peace.  That idea made me ecstatically happy.

My daydreaming also involved getting a stall at my favorite
flea market, for showing and selling my paintings.  I could decorate the stall
with black satin, no burgundy damask, no purple velvet—the possibilities seemed
endless.  In each scenario one thing remained constant; Cal was always by my
side.

I leaned into Cal’s hand, enjoying the rough feeling of his warm
palm against my cool skin.  Cal always ran hot.  I was pretty sure it was a
werewolf thing.  I’d ask Emma if Simon was the same, but, you know, ewww.  I
was okay with them dating, sort of, but not quite ready for the intimate
details.

“I had an epiphany last night,” I said.

I turned my head to gaze into Cal’s deep ocean eyes, his
hand still cupping my cheek.

“About?” he asked, a lazy grin on his full lips.

Cal’s voice had gone husky and I was having trouble
concentrating, but it was important that I share my idea with him.  I had been
keeping too many secrets lately.  It was time to start letting people back in,
and I was starting with Cal.

“What do think about running an art stall in the flea
market?” I asked. 

“Will we be selling your art?” he asked, cocking an
eyebrow.  “I can finger paint at best.”

I laughed remembering Cal’s attempt at making a valentine
card for me last February.  In the attempted drawing, I looked like Sasquatch,
and a wolf that looked suspiciously like a poodle was holding an amorphous blob
that was supposed to be his heart.

“My art, definitely,” I said.  “I have an entire concept,
but as for decorating the stall, I’m torn between all black fabric or…”

Cal closed the distance between us, pressing his heated lips
against my own.  His hand brushed along my cheek as he slid his fingers into my
hair.  Time stopped.  We were the only two people in the universe.

I leaned into Cal, enjoying our moment of bliss.  I felt
energized and relaxed, all at the same time.  Cal was better than hot
chocolate.

When he pulled away, my lips tingled.  He kissed the bridge
of my nose and leaned his forehead against mine.

“I love that idea,” he said. 

“So, if I create the paintings, you’ll help me with the
stall?” I asked breathlessly.

“Yes, I’ll do anything you need,” he said.

“Anything?” I asked.

“Anything,” he said.

“Then kiss me,” I said.