Legend (A Wolf Lake Novella) (2 page)

"You should come to one of our classes sometime," he said. "We have several that cover all of the local hot spots."

"Thanks," Sam took her bags, "but I'm not one for team sports."

"Sure, sure but it's always nice to hear about new places. Just think about it." The clerk rested his hip against the counter, watching as Sam gathered her purchases and headed toward the exit.
 

"Sure," Sam said, ignoring the clerk's friendly goodbye.

"What a bitch," he said, as the door closed behind her.

The clerk behind the counter snorted. "Nah, she's just totally out of your league."

"Whatever," Tommy grumbled. Why were the hot ones always so cold?

Sam tossed the REI bag in the back of her car. Once behind the wheel, she turned up Within Temptation's
The Howling,
smiling a little at the irony, and pointed her car east. Twenty minutes later, she left the city behind for the suburbs, the trees once again outgrowing the buildings. An hour later, the last of the suburbs slipped into her rear view mirror, leaving her with a four lane freeway and the Cascade Mountains.
 

WHAT IN THE hell am I doing out here? Sam thought, pulling herself up yet another steep ridge. Loose dirt and years of fallen pine needles littered the ground making the climb treacherous. It had taken her three days to get this far and there was still no sign of the lake. For most of the last day, she had studiously ignored the nagging voice inside her head - the one that sounded a lot like Andrew - that was telling her that Wolf Lake really was just a myth and that she was never going to find it.
 

I have time, she reminded herself. She had enough supplies for another few days before she would need to turn back. Besides, this was only her first trip to the area since discovering the map. She had to consider the possibility that she might not find the lake. That didn't mean a wasted trip. After three days of searching, she could say with certainty where Wolf Lake wasn't.
 

Ever the optimist, Sam?
The Andrew sound-a-like asked.
Since when?

Oh, shut up!
Sam shook her head clear. Lifting her head, she spotted the crest a few feet above her, the sight going a long way towards renewing her flagging energy. Determined, she reached for a nearby exposed root, using it to pull herself up the side of the mountain. Her feet slipped, and she landed hard on one knee. Wincing, she pushed herself up, dug her toes into the dirt and pushed.
 

The legend of Wolf Lake was one of the least known myths she'd researched so far. There were no romantic tales associated with it, no brilliantly directed movies, no books. But there were stories. Stories of the wolves that roamed these mountains, only to step out from the trees as men. Sam didn't believe in werewolves. She didn't believe in ghosts or vampires either. She did believe that at the heart of every legend was a story, a kernel of truth that got embellished with each telling until a myth was born.

Legs burning, arms shaking, Sam pulled herself to the top of the ridge, and there it was. Wolf Lake.
 

Standing at the top of the ridge, a panoramic voice of Wolf Lake before her, Sam felt an unexpected rush of emotion, instant awe catching in her throat. She'd travelled to some pretty amazing places in her life but this... This place was magical.

A small lake surrounded by mountains, their peaks perpetually topped with snow, Wolf Lake lay hidden away in one of a hundred shallow basins and valleys. Sunlight broke against the water's smooth surface, gold light shattering like glass while around her, trees whispered secrets in the wind. In that moment she could almost believe the tales of this place were true.
 

Sam had spent the last four years dissecting many of the popular myths and legends, not to mention less well known ones such as the stories surrounding Wolf Lake. Last year, she'd spent part of her summer vacation in Romania researching Vlad Tepes, the inspiration behind Bram Stroker's Dracula. For Christmas, she had travelled to New Orleans and started researching voodoo, witch doctors and witches. This year found her camping in supposedly werewolf infested woods.
 

Sam felt a smile break across her face. It was a good thing she was alone, no one around to see the smug expression that accompanied a feeling of intense satisfaction.
So what do you have to say for yourself now?
she asked the voice in her head, not surprised when it didn't answer.

Surveying the landscape below her, Sam marked a spot near the water's edge and went to make camp. It took her another hour to work her way down to the lake. Douglas-firs, the giants of the forest, grew close together, forcing her to squeeze between their trunks. Finally, the trees began to thin, the underbrush giving way to shorter shrubs and eventually rocky beach.
 

Stepping out from the cool shade of the trees, Sam turned her face up to the late afternoon sun, taking a moment to enjoy its warmth after so many days in the shade. She was tired, covered in dirt and dried sweat and her knee was starting to swell. She was also happier than she had been since her first salted caramel mocha.

It didn't take her long to set up camp. She'd had to carry everything in, which meant packing light, her minimalist skills coming in handy.
Of course, might have been worth lugging in the hand-cranked blender,
Sam thought. She could definitely celebrate with a margarita or two.

Wolfing down an MRE (no pun intended), Sam enjoyed Yankee pot roast, finding it better than most of the meals she cooked for herself at home, and watched the sun set behind the lake. Too tired to build a fire, she used a pen light to check her GPS coordinates, making final notes on her map of the area. She had the prospector's map in her bag, but had been recording her search for the lake on a current map of the area. She wasn't surprised to see Wolf Lake missing from it. This area of the mountain range was sparsely populated, not much detail known. There were no logging roads or hiking trails nearby. In fact, this area appeared completely untouched by man.
 

Shaking off the sudden sense that she was trespassing, Sam slipped into her tent and into climbed her sleeping bag. The night was already cold, and the ground beneath her hard, but she didn't think it would matter. She was beyond exhausted, her eyes already growing heavy as she reached to turn off the light. Tomorrow, she planned to explore around the lake.
Not that I'll find anything
, she thought, before sleep took her under.
 

* * *

Shrouded in the shadows at the edge of the forest, Roland watched the woman zip herself into her tent. A moment later, the light went out and the campsite grew quiet and still.
Foreigner
, he thought.
Prey
, his wolf corrected. Roland agreed.

He lingered, his eyes never straying from the tent and the woman that slept inside, unsuspecting. In the dark, his eyes began to glow gold, the low light illuminating his face and revealing a jagged scar running from temple to chin.
 

Turning, he loped off into the forest.
 

* * *

When she woke, Sam's first thought was that she hoped someone had gotten the license plate number of the truck that had run her over. Groaning, stiff and sore muscles protesting violently, she slowly crawled out of her tent.
 

"Oh, wow." The sun was just starting to rise up from behind the ridge line to the east, its early morning rays reflecting off a low level of fog that blanketed the lake. As she watched, the fog slowly receded, leaving the lake to sparkle in the sun. It was an amazing transformation, one that had happened countless times before with no one there to bear witness.
 

Boiling some water, Sam made herself a cup of instant coffee. Choking back the bitter brew and wishing for her espresso machine, she listened to the sounds of the forest waking up. There were bird calls and insects buzzing that she couldn't identify and somewhere a chipmunk chattered noisily. She was out here alone, she thought, but for the first time in years, she wasn't lonely.
 

There was too much life for the place to be quiet, but it was peaceful. She felt relaxed, in harmony with her surroundings.
In harmony
, she thought, mentally snorting at the thought. Sam had never been in harmony with anything, not even when she sang in her car. It wasn't something she strived for. She existed in her world, moving from one place to the next. Still, sitting cross-legged on the ground outside of her tent, Sam had to admit that she felt...content. It was a unfamiliar feeling.
 

Tossing out the last of her coffee, Sam brushed her teeth, pulled her hair back into a pony tail and grabbed her day pack. She wanted to take a look around, see some of the area surrounding the lake. She didn't expect to find anything. That wasn't why she was here. There would be no answers to her questions, no information to explain how the legend surrounding Wolf Lake had gotten started. Her journey out here had been a
fuck you
to Andrew and the others. A way to prove to herself and to them there was value to her research.
 

Setting out, she circled the lake, following a path that veered away from the water, taking her deep into the forest before curving back to the water's edge. The going was slow. She was careful to watch her footing, stepping over exposed roots that threatened to trip and trap her. A fall out here could be fatal. Something as simple as a broken leg could leave her unable to move and exposed. There was no cell phone reception and no one knew she was out here. She could die a slow, painful death waiting for rescue.

Taking a break, Sam sat on a fallen log, sucking down a gel pack and making notes in her journal. The book had been a gift from her foster mom when she'd aged out of the system, the old leather book a mishmash of research, notes, to-do lists, phone numbers and scribbles. It held bits and pieces from her life, most of them important only to her.
 

Flipping to the end of the book, she read through her notes on Wolf Lake. Compared to many of the other legends she'd researched there were precious few notes on the lake. She'd first come across mention of it while researching another legend. The lake and its alleged close proximity had caught her attention while the scarcity of stories had driven her to uncover its secrets.
 

Earlier in the year, she'd made a trip out to the small town of Roslyn. A three hour drive from where Sam had left her car, Roslyn had its history in coal mining. She had spent the day walking streets lined with boarded up windows and "for lease" signs. The town had definitely seen better days, but it had a rural charm that let you know the locals still cared for their town.
 

Settling in at Roslyn's last remaining diner, she dug into a piece of pecan pie and tried to get the locals talking about the legend of Wolf Lake. Instead, she got cold stares and a clear message to leave. It was the first time she'd ever encountered a local population that didn't boast about their local lore. In fact, the patrons at the diner had grown politely hostile, their agitated whispers following her out the door as she quickly paid her bill and left.

Thinking back, Sam wondered what the locals would think if they knew she'd found the lake. Something told her they wouldn't invite her back for more pie.

ROLAND LED NAFARIUS back to the campsite. His alpha's anger at learning about the human had been satisfyingly swift. Cold fury had swept down the pack bond, causing a ripple of unease among the pack.
 

"Show me," Nafarius ordered quietly.
 

Following his beta, Nafarius fought the urge to shift. His wolf was restless, ready to hunt down and kill the trespasser. But he needed the relative calm that came with being in his human form.
 

They reached the campsite, finding it empty and the woman gone.

"She couldn't have gone far." Nafarius circled the tent, scanned the area surrounding the lake. "Find her," he ordered and watched his beta slip off into the trees.

Roland tracked the woman north, her scent marking a clear path through the forest.
Fucking foreigner
, he thought, the stink of the city desecrating the pack's hunting ground. Hunting her down was exactly what he should be doing. Not this search and observe bullshit.

Roland stepped off the scent, stopped. Turning, he lifted his nose to the wind.
At the lake
, he thought and found her sitting in the sun reading. Keeping to the shadows, he watched and waited.

A few minutes later, Nafarius joined him, silently stepping from the trees. "You're growling," he said in response to the steady vibration emanating from his beta.

"She doesn't belong here," Roland snarled.

"Doesn't matter," Nafarius said, watching the woman. "She's here. We'll deal with her."

"How?" Roland demanded.

Nafarius' head swiveled around slowly, blue eyes locking with brown. The moment stretched, grew thin. Nafarius' hackles rising at the challenge, his wolf eager for violence. As beta, Roland could get away with much but there was a limit when it came to questioning Nafarius, and he'd just stepped on it.

Roland darted a glance past Nafarius, his lip curling at the sight of the woman before returning to his alpha. He had no wish to rumble with Nafarius but everything about this was wrong.

* * *

Sam felt a prick of unease. Lifting her head, she scanned the edge of the forest.
There's nothing there
, she thought, but some long forgotten instinct warned her that there was a predator nearby and she qualified as prey.
 

Nafarius saw the woman lift her head, watched as her eyes slipped over their hiding place.

"She knows we're here," Roland growled, shifting anxiously.

"No, she doesn't." Reaching out, Nafarius rested a reassuring hand on his beta's arm.