“I don’t think he had anything to do with my brother’s death, but I cannot rule out the rest of his family as a coven. Together, they are extremely powerful, and my brother as an alpha was not known for his finesse in dealing with witches. Our families always had a grudge against one another since the last century. Territorial clashes between werewolves and witches and the like.”
He smiles ruefully.
“Lucien and I are just inheritors of the age-old feud. But here we are, enemies nonetheless. We are the Montagues and the Capulets. Now that my brother is dead, I have to lead the clans. Just as Lucien is being groomed to take over his father’s place.”
She has expected him to say hostile things about Lucien, and so she is surprised when he is being so earnest and pragmatic about it. A warmth spreads through her tummy – a sensation she has not experienced in so many hours that it comes as a shock to her that she can actually feel anything at all.
The tears start again. And here, she thought she was all dehydrated and dried up. She had thought there would be nothing left to be wrung out of her anymore.
But there is. There apparently is plenty more.
“Shannon.” There is distress in his voice as her shoulders shake and her sobs start up again.
Wordlessly, he goes to her. She lets him put his arms around her and hold her. His body is hard, but she is too cried out to feel anything but an indifferent comfort. He lies down next to her and holds her this way for a long, long time until the shadows are long on the walls and the sun outside turns into a rich golden red.
THE RIDGE
It starts insidiously, of course.
Kirk is right. Things did get better.
They got better the next morning when Jared made her breakfast and she took the day off on Kirk’s auspices. They got even better the next day when she went back to work.
She throws herself mercilessly into her work. She takes on more patients than necessary and stays back long after everyone else has left. Everyone excepting Kirk, of course. He is a silent shadow watching her progress – or rather, her healing.
He doesn’t speak of that night he held her, but she notices that he treats her differently. As if she is his friend rather than his employee.
She is grateful for that.
Meanwhile, the trees turn into gold and red and yellow, and they start to shed their leaves as Halloween draws closer. She is trying not to think of that date, but it is difficult as the supermarkets and stores are decorated and filled with merchandise for the occasion. The residents of Dolphin’s Bay are very much into Halloween, maybe because of their celebrated witch tradition, and the houses are all competing for the best decorated garden theme – an annual feature of the Dolphin’s Bay local newspaper.
The residents are a creative bunch.
They erect ghosts and ghouls and skeletons and pumpkins in their gardens, together with piped eerie music. They dangle severed heads from their rafters and smear fake blood all over their walls (which can be washed out later, of course).
So it is difficult for Shannon to put Halloween and its significance out of her mind altogether.
Kirk senses this.
“Don’t think about him,” he urges. “Focus on your work.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” she shoots back. And then, contrite, she says in a more conciliatory tone, “Sorry I snapped at you but I’ve been pretty much on edge lately.”
He nods understandingly.
He says, “You want to go look at the Blue Ridge Pass?”
She has heard of it but she has never gone to it because it is not accessible by road.
She wrinkles her nose. “You mean we have to hike there?”
He grins.
*
She doesn’t know why she agrees to meet Kirk at the area where she last saw him and the other werewolves in the forest. But it is not far from her cottage, and he is already waiting there when she arrives. Her breath catches in her throat. He is so beautiful with his shoulder-length dark hair curling over his broad shoulders.
“You’re alone,” she observes.
“Yes.”
It is strange how comfortable she is around him now. She doesn’t think of him as a boss anymore. More like a co-worker. Or a friend she can lean on – the type of friend who knows all her secrets and still likes her for them. Maybe it’s because he has secrets of his own.
“So we’re going to hike from here?” she says. She shows him her backpack. “I brought water for the two of us. And I wore my good shoes.”
“We’re not going to hike,” he says. “Are you the blushing kind?”
“I work in your clinic, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” He grins. “How quickly I forget. Turn around.”