Curves & Alphas: A Paranormal Box Set: (BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (21 page)

Van began to move. His feet twitched a little. His fingers flexed. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, then onto his butt beside Sophia. He unfastened the clasp on his helmet and pulled it off. His face glistened with sweat, but was otherwise perfect, and very much alive.

Sophia stared at him, eyes popping out and mouth hanging open, as if he were a ghost. It took her several seconds to find her voice.

‘What? How?’

He didn’t reply, just continued staring at her with those blue, blue eyes. Soon, she started to recover her wits and demand a response.

‘I just saw you fly through the air and roll end over end on the tarmac. How are you sitting here without a scratch on you?’ She leapt up and investigated each of his limbs. ‘Where are your cuts? Your grazes? Your bike’s a wreck but you haven’t got a mark on you!’ She began to back away from him, unsettled by his disregard for the usual laws of cause and effect. ‘Who are you? What are you?’

He still didn’t reply, still sat maddeningly silent.

‘Tell me!’ she demanded. ‘Are you dead already? Are you a ghost?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not a ghost. But I’m not alive as you know it, either.’

‘What on earth do you mean?’

He slowly got to his feet. ‘Do you really want to know? Because I won’t blame you if you’d rather walk away from this whole mess.’

‘I want to know.’ There was no doubt in her mind.

‘Come back to Fir Lodge. I’ll tell you everything.’

Chapter 10

In the vast, pristine kitchen of Fir Lodge, Van insisted on cleaning and dressing Sophia’s wound before doing anything else. He flushed out the dirt, then dabbed on disinfectant cream and finally wound a bandage around her entire hand. He treated her so kindly and carefully throughout that he seemed a different person entirely from the wild creature who’d stood in the front doorway only an hour before. Sophia studied his face while he worked; from his thick eyebrows, knotted together in concentration, to the perfect bow shape of his full upper lip. It felt very intimate to have him bent so closely in the silent kitchen that she could feel every breath on her arm, and see the regular movement of his pulse in his neck.

He looked rather pleased with himself once he’d secured the dressing with a neat little clasp. He stood up, nodded, and then he poured them both a whiskey on the rocks and sat down on a bar stool beside her.

‘What are you going to do about your motorcycle?’ Sophia asked. ‘Someone’s bound to report it if they see it abandoned in the drain.’

He shrugged.

‘It’s not important. I’ll go back and winch it onto my pickup later.’ They were silent for several moments.

‘Got any coke?’ she asked as she swirled and sniffed the potent looking drink.

‘No, it’s poison,’ he replied. ‘Never touch the stuff.’ He drank a slug of whiskey without flinching. Sophia sipped hers and couldn’t help but make a face.

‘Come on, then,’ she said after several further seconds of silence. ‘You said you were going to tell me everything. Get on with it.’ This came out a little more harshly than she’d intended. Sure, he’d acted like an idiot earlier, but she owed him the chance to explain himself. He clearly had a heavy weight to get off his chest and was struggling to know where to begin. ‘You can tell me anything,’ she said, more softly. ‘I was upset by your reaction earlier, and I still don’t understand why you behaved like you did. Maybe you’re about to explain. I just want you to know that I won’t judge you, whatever you tell me. I get the feeling you need a friendly ear. My friends tell me I’m a great listener, and I want to listen to what you’ve got to say.’

He nodded and his shoulders relaxed a little. He studied her intently, seeming to be gauging whether she spoke the truth.

‘You can trust me,’ she urged him gently.

‘You’re only the second person I’ve told this story. The first was Wilbur.’

‘Wilbur Longshadow; your father?’

He tilted his head left and right. ‘Yes and no. I’d better start at the beginning.’

I use the name Van Longshadow today, but that’s not the name I was given at birth. I was christened Rueben Graves and I was born in New York on the 5th of May, 1832. That makes me one hundred and fifty-three years old at my last birthday. My parents and brothers are long dead; so are my grandparents and even my great grandparents. My mind is this old, but my body is frozen in time, all because of a fateful event that happened in the thirtieth year of my true body’s life.

It was 1862; the second year of the most bloody period in American history that people now call The American Civil War, as if a mere title could ever sum up the atrocities that those four short years delivered. American against American, cousin against cousin, there was no land to be won, only more and more country-men to kill.

Being a New Yorker, I was a Union man. I believed in the cause but I also had a god-given fear of war. I was a gentle lad, never given to the rough and tumble and cowboys and Indians games of the boys on my street. I preferred books and painting, and my mother nurtured this softer side of me; she’d always longed for a daughter but gave birth to four sons. My brothers – all three – raced to sign up when President Lincoln called for troops to fight for the Union cause. But not me. I was even tempted to join the thousands who fled to Canada when the reality of war dampened the initial rush of enthusiasm and conscription began. I was so tempted that I had my route planned out and a guide organized to take me deep into the Northern wilderness. But I couldn’t bear to leave my mother with the shame of having a cowardly son, even though she encouraged me to run and save myself.

Next thing I knew, I had a blue coat on my back and a sword on my belt, and I was travelling with a vast army of fifty-five thousand men towards Maryland. We were headed for the first battle on Union soil; the Battle of Antietam. It was a long journey and I had plenty of time to think about what was to come. I’d already lost two brothers to the cause and was terrified. I was sick with fear of dying. Maybe the curse of eternal life I was given was my punishment for that cowardice. I don’t know.

One night during that journey, on the edge of a forest, I went into the woods with some other men to gather firewood. I got separated from the group and, without really thinking about it, when I realized I was all alone, I just kept on walking. Before I knew it I was miles away from anyone else, with no idea where I was. I had no supplies, just my sword and the clothes on my back, but I knew I stood a better chance of surviving out there than I did in battle. I also knew that I had to stay hidden. Desertion was by no means unusual, and while execution for desertion was rare, requirement to rejoin the regiment was certain; something that was tantamount to death in my mind anyway.

I survived for three weeks, slowly making my way back East, using my map and the survival skills, and knowledge of the land I’d acquired through my extensive readings back in my study in New York. I had to keep to the forest and away from the main transport lines; a lone soldier was always cause for suspicion.

Then one night, I was collecting water at a stream when I saw a wolf. It was a full moon, I remember that clearly, and this wolf was the most spectacular thing I’d ever seen. He was an enormous grey beast, with eyes that looked almost human. He walked right up to me and I didn’t even tremble. Imagine that; terrified at the prospect of a battlefield, but undaunted standing nose to nose with a giant wolf. The thing is, unlike war, this didn’t seem unnatural. It was almost like I’d expected we’d meet all along.

Even so, I was still taken aback when the wolf stood up on its hind legs and placed his front legs on my shoulders. I buckled under his weight, but held firm. I didn’t resist it; what could I do, anyway? Then, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world, he bent his head and bit my neck, just enough to pierce the skin.

I felt the curse enter me, but it wasn’t until I began to transform that I understood. You can’t even imagine the agony of that first transition. I writhed and screamed under the moonlight as my skin stretched and tore, and my body distorted into shapes it was never supposed to be. I don’t know how I survived it. When it was over, I lay on my side, barely breathing. Then, as the moon made its way across the side, I gathered enough strength to sit up and look around. I took my first look at the world through my new eyes. Wolf’s eyes.  

Sophia gasped as everything suddenly fell into place. She’d listened silently to his incredible tale, in disbelief that the man before her was supposedly more than a hundred years old. Was he delusional or was he actually telling her the truth? But now she understood.

‘You’re a werewolf?’

He nodded.

‘The grey wolf cursed me with his bite. Cursed me to the solitary world of lycanthropy and eternal life. Many people think eternal life would be a blessing, but believe me; watching as everyone you love grows old and dies, leaving you alone time and time again, is no miracle.’

Sophia picked up her glass and finished her whiskey in one hit. She placed down her glass and rubbed her forehead in the spot where a headache had just sprung up. She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Are you serious? This is not just some sick joke? You’re really a werewolf?’

‘Yes.’

She caught her breath again. ‘That black wolf I saw tonight… that was you?’

‘That was me. I’m a werewolf. So now you know why I wasn’t injured in the crash tonight. I have strength and speed that’s not human, even when I’m in human form.’

‘What do you mean?’

He stood up. ‘Follow me.’ He led her out of the kitchen and back to the entrance way. ‘Watch this.’

With barely a breath of effort, he sprang from the floor all the way to the landing at the top of the stairs. He balanced on the top of the banister before running down on top of the banister beside the stairs, so quickly that Sophia’s eyes could barely keep up with him.

‘Want to see more?’ he asked.

‘Sure,’ Sophia breathlessly replied.

They moved to the lounge, where the wall of books turned out to be housed on an enormous white bookcase. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of books neatly arranged from top to bottom. Van positioned himself in the middle of the case.

‘Reckon I can lift it?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow.

‘Um, of course I don’t think you should be able to lift it, but I’ve a feeling you’re about to surprise me!’

He dug his fingers underneath the base and lifted the whole collection clear off the floor.

‘Wow!’ Sophia exclaimed. ‘Okay, put it down. I don’t want to tidy all those books up if you trip!’

He placed it back down without incident and they returned to the kitchen.

‘What else?’ Sophia asked. ‘I have to admit that I don’t know much about werewolves; I missed the whole Twilight phenomenon.’  

‘Well, I’m resistant to injuries, except if silver is involved. If I touch even a silver spoon, my skin will sizzle and burn. I have intense urges, animal urges, which are difficult to control; hunger, anger, arousal… And once a month, on a full moon, I can transition into my wolf form. It’s incredible, Sophia. While it’s no fun to live forever, there’s no comparison to running through the woods as a wolf. I can’t possibly describe it; I wish you could feel it for yourself. I can transition at other times, too, but it’s excruciatingly painful; much like that first time, and it leaves me weak and bed-ridden for at least a week afterwards. I’ve learned to wait patiently for the full moon.’

Sophia felt the room begin to spin from shock and whiskey. It was late and seemed a very long time since she’d eaten dinner with her parents.

‘Who else knows?’ she asked softly.

‘Only Wilbur. I call him my father, but actually he’s my great great uncle. My real father died in 1861. I found Wilbur ten years ago. He’s a wonderful man; he’s loved me like a son, and accepted me in a way I never thought possible.’

‘Do the rest of the family know?’

He shook his head. ‘Wilbur told Nancy and his sons that I’m his long lost love child.’

‘How did that go down?’

He gave a short laugh. ‘You can imagine. Nancy still hates me to this day.’

‘What about Mark, Timothy and Edward?’

‘They’re not quite so bitter, but still jealous of any time Wilbur spends with me. They’re happiest when I keep to myself out here, play the recluse. So that’s what I tend to do most of the time, in order to keep the peace for Wilbur’s sake.’

‘I guess they’ll have to find out sooner or later,’ Sophia mused. ‘They must be getting suspicious that you haven’t aged in all the time they’ve known you.’

He nodded. ‘It hasn’t come up yet; maybe they think my youthful appearance is down to all the fresh air I get out here.’ He grinned and Sophia found her heart responding once again to his handsome face. ‘It drives me mad with worry, if I’m honest. I don’t want to create any more trouble for Wilbur. I had nothing when I found him, and now I have everything.’ He fixed his gaze on her. ‘Especially now I’ve met you.’

She held his stare. ‘I’m glad you’ve shared this with me. I’m stunned; I don’t really know what to think. I’m also flattered. It took a lot of strength to open up like you just did, when you’ve only told one other person the truth before. But we’ve only just met. You must have known dozens of women over the years. I can’t help but wonder… why share this with me?’

‘I haven’t known dozens of women. I haven’t known any. I’ve avoided people wherever possible, and women especially. I’m too afraid I’ll hurt them when my urges become too strong to control, and besides, what will happen when they find out? Who would want to hang around when they find out the truth?’