I was just starting to gain control of my life after Dad and Ben. I wouldn't let anyone take that away from me. Not even Josh. Not even if I secretly, deep down, desperately wanted to be his mate.
I tried to force Josh out of my mind. I traded her pretty face for Ruth's smile. I drove back to DownMoor village, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and imagining the look on his face when he revealed that the paintings weren't Neolithic.
As soon as I emerged from the forest canopy and my phone rang to let me know I had reception again, I stopped and texted Derek. He texted back right away, inviting me to come over.
For the first time, the weather was worse in DownMoor village than in the forest. The rain fell in cascades. There was hardly anyone on the road, and the main street was mostly deserted, many shops closed for the day. I pulled into a parking lot across from Derek's apartment, pulled my hood over my head, and hurried to the door.
— Allora! He hugged me, his muscles tense. Derek was a fitness junkie. He was always at the gym or going for a run or participating in one of those firefights where you swing ropes like Tarzan. This meant that their hugs could be quite intense.
“Derek… I can't breathe.
I flailed my arms uselessly as he squeezed the air from my lungs.
Derek released me.
“You smell really bad,” he said, smiling as he ran his fingers through his short, wavy black hair.
“I really wish everyone would stop pointing that out.
“It's hard not to. Do you want to take a bath?
I stretched out on the overstuffed sofa, looking at the giant engraving of Zeus in his war chariot that loomed over Derek's bookshelf. Derek's entire apartment was covered in images of famous mythological figures and celestial bodies. Mine was covered in postcards and magazine clippings of places I wanted to travel, ruins I wanted to explore. We were very similar in many ways. I guess it wasn't a big surprise that he liked me.
- No, thank you. I'll take it in my apartment. But I'll take a cup
of tea.
"Or a glass of wine?"
"How about both?"
Derek chuckled and went into the kitchen. I heard the kettle start to boil and the clink of wineglasses.
I stretched out on the couch and kicked off my shoes, like I always did when visiting Derek's cramped apartment. Living with three other guys, no one would ever notice the smell of my thick wool socks.
"I was just wondering if you could help me with some research."
"Absolutely," Derek replied. "Is it about the cave paintings?" "How do you know that?"
“They're all over the news. It's quite an exciting discovery. I bet Ruth must be thrilled.
“Ruth?
“You know, being the first person to discover the paintings. Derek cleared a space on the table and set down a steaming cup of tea and a brimming glass of wine. “I bet she gets her name in all kinds of archeology textbooks now.
"I'm the one who found them!" I yelled, banging my head on Derek's couch in frustration. Derek chuckled and pushed his wine glass towards me.
"I can see you need this more than you need the tea." Not that you're bitter or anything. He dropped down next to me, putting his arm casually around my shoulders. “All I can say is welcome to the academic world. But don't worry, you got your name on at least one article.
- There is?
— Check the main page of the Daily Post website.
A terrible sinking feeling rose in my stomach as I clicked on my phone and navigated to the tabloid's website.
DEAD CLIMBER'S WIDOW KEEPING HER LEGACY
RECKLESS ALIVE
Article by Misty Sharpe
Allora SanDiir, 22, the girlfriend of climber Ben Brownstone, who died horribly when he fell off a cliff in DownMoor forest five months ago, wasted no time in getting back into the carefree lifestyle. We interview SanDiir at a remote site in the same forest, where she is working with a crew on a dangerous cave treasure hunting expedition. When asked if the caves were dangerous, SanDiir exclaimed excitedly that there were slips and falling hazards and lamented that a local ranger was making sure they followed safety guidelines.
Adrenaline junkie SanDiir took us to see the newly discovered cave paintings, despite neither this reporter nor her photographer wearing proper shoes. She dismissed our concerns about the safety of the caves, saying she wouldn't let something like her boyfriend's death stop her from living her life. She then asked us not to print that specific statement…
No. My throat closed up. This can not be happening.
I scanned the rest of the article, appalled that they'd turned what was supposed to be a discovery report into an article about how I was dishonoring Ben's memory by making the same reckless mistakes he had.
- I don't believe. I slammed my phone down on the table. “They twisted everything I said. And some of these things were just made up!
— It's the Daily Post, what did you expect?
— My teachers will read it. I will never be able to enter another archaeological site again. “I buried my face in my hands.
- Everything will be fine. Derek squeezed my arm. His tone was reassuring, gentle, the way he was with me the whole time I was dealing with Ben's death. “Forget that article. He'll be packing people's fish and chips by tomorrow. Now, what did you want my help with? Archaeologists and students of mythology often don't have common interests.
“I want to know about werewolves. Specifically, werewolf myths associated with England.
"Any particular reason?"
— I believe that cave paintings are not as old as
Frances and Ruth believe. I just need to prove it academically without having to spend my entire year's scholarship on the carbon dating lab fee. One of the friezes shows a man changing into a wolf, and there are many other wolf images. I need to look at some other examples of this type of imagery and mythology and make a case for the actual period in which the paintings are dated.
"So basically a contextual art thesis?"
I nodded.
“It might work with clothing or a specific type of flora and fauna shown, but I thought mythology was a good place to start. I need to build a really solid case to take Ruth down.
- I'm happy to help. Derek went to his bookshelf and began pulling out books, setting a small pile aside. “That's for starters. I believe I even have a book on depictions of animals in prehistoric British artwork… oh, here it is.
He dropped a heavy volume into my lap.
“Thanks, Derek. — I touched the gold edges of the book. It looked old and expensive and important. "Are you sure you don't mind lending me this?" Don't you need them for a rehearsal or something?
“They're all yours. But, you know, the easiest thing would be if you took me to look at the paintings.
“I don't know… Frances has a very tight grip on access. I don't know if she would let you in unless you had a BBC camera strapped to your back or a Tempo Team spatula in your hand.
“Come on, Allora. I could help you speed up this process.
- OK sure. I'll bring you some pictures next time.
“I mean the real thing. Derek gave me an intense look. "Take me to see the paintings."
I stopped.
— Oh. I don't know…
"What is it, Allora?" What harm can it do? I've visited you in places before. I will not fall into a pit of scorpions.
Was it a good idea, with all the craziness around right now? Josh's face flashed through my mind. He had said something today about another wolf, a wolf he had killed. I knew Josh would be upset if I took Derek to the farm, knowing the black wolf was watching us. But Derek knew a lot more about this sort of thing than I did, and he could point out a few more features of the paintings that we hadn't noticed.
It definitely wouldn't hurt to try.
Josh will have to accept. He's not driving this. I am.
I opened my phone and checked the listing of times for the various news outlets that Frances had given me.
— Why don't you go tomorrow, around nine in the morning? We have a film crew arriving around ten, so you'll have plenty of time to look at the paintings before they start spinning around under their lights. Bring a camera and a notebook and brush your hair. I'll tell Frances you're from National Geographic and we'll have no problem.
- I'll be there. This is exciting! Derek slammed his glass down on mine. I swallowed my wine and sipped my lukewarm tea. We talked about all the college gossip for another hour, until my pores started to sweat from all the dirt lodged inside them. Bath time.
Ten minutes later, I was across town at Mom's apartment, knocking on the door.
"It's me, Allora!" I yelled, a lump of panic rising in my throat as I knocked on the door and no one answered. - Let me in!
Did she slip in the shower? Was she lying at the bottom of the stairs? She forgot to eat for three days straight and starved to death? This was all my fault for leaving her.
After five minutes of non-stop tapping, our neighbor, Mrs. Barnaby, yelled through the window for me to stop the racket.
"She's not home!" she screamed. “I saw her leave about an hour ago with that young friend of hers.
“Cynthia?
In response, Mrs. Barnaby slammed the door in my face.
That was a relief. I found my own key and unlocked the door. The place looked a little cleaner than I remembered. There was some food in the fridge and the scrapbook wasn't open on the couch. I smiled when I noticed Cynthia's bag on the kitchen counter, my new tarot deck peeking out of the side pocket.
That Cynthia. She may believe in tarot cards, but if she finally gets Mom back, she's my favorite person.
With my mother's whereabouts still unexplained, I decided it was time for a bath. I threw my clothes in the washer and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away my fears for the day.
I was still mad at Josh for the way he talked about me with
Caleb, but now that I had some distance from the forest, I wondered if I'd overdo it, just a little bit. I was worried about how attached I had gotten to him so quickly, and with my mother pulling away from reality to protect herself from further pain, I was looking for an excuse to pull away from Josh because, in my mind, I was worried that he would be killed, and I would have to live with the pain of losing another man in my life.
And he said there was another wolf, a wolf that killed...
That was stupid. I couldn't live my life in fear of death all the time. The way my body reacted when Josh touched me…that was what I needed. That was the reality I was supposed to ground myself in. Ben was fond of saying, "Life is too short." That's why he spent so much time walking and climbing rocks and not doing his homework. Ben didn't even own a cell phone. He thought life was too short to spend it looking at a screen.
Well, maybe life was too short for me to give up on Josh. I was lucky to love Ben, but he's gone now. And Josh… he's definitely not gone. He made my body feel like no one else did, and he made me want to be daring and excited and adventurous. I haven't felt like this in a long time.
All of this was so complicated. I wish someone could tell me what to do. But that was the old Allora speaking, the one who accommodated everyone else's needs at her own expense. The one who didn't go to Cambridge and trade her country school in a Sicilian village for the damp, miserable forest of DownMoor. I wasn't sure it was that girl anymore.
I got out of the shower, wrapped myself in a towel, and walked down the hall to my room to find clean clothes. I was digging through my underwear drawer when I felt a strong finger slide down the side of my neck.
“I love a girl who's wet for me,” a husky voice whispered in my ear.
I leapt a mile into the air, my heart pounding against my chest. My towel slipped down my torso. I turned.
—Josh!
— Allora. His fingers traced the line of my collarbone, the touch turning my fear into passion.
Don't scare me like that. I chided him. "I'm really not
in a good mood.
"Your nipples say otherwise." Josh touched a finger to my breast, my nipple hardening under his caress. A small moan escaped my throat. My body remained rigid, on high alert, all senses tingling with sweet anticipation. The humming energy surged around us, pulling us together like magnets.
“I'm still mad at you,” I managed to say, but the words sounded shaky. I had forgotten what I was angry about.
“That's why I came. Josh moved closer to me, his chest pressing against mine. Heat pulsed through his shirt, searing my bare skin. His fingers danced over the edge of my neck, around my nipples, teasing me with the lightest touch. “I was going to surprise her in the shower, but decided under the circumstances that would be too sneaky.
"And waiting in my room for me is less sneaky?" I said, finally finding my self-control. I pulled my towel over my chest and tried to move away from him, but he moved closer to me, cutting my way to the dresser. The only way around Josh would be to walk across the bed, and given the circumstances, I thought that might send the wrong message.
Also, my skin burned from his touch. I didn't want him to stop. In truth no.
- I understood. Josh grabbed my shoulder, his face suddenly serious. “I didn't mean to flirt. It's hard to resist when you're naked, wet and beautiful. I really came to talk and make sure you were okay. I was worried about you. I didn't like the way we left things, especially when there are at least two dangerous wolves out there.
"So you thought about breaking into my house and scaring me?" How did you get in anyway?
“You left the front door unlocked. I needed to check that you were safe.
“I'm fine, Josh. Just a little irritated. I don't like being talked about as if I were some kind of commodity to be traded.
“I understand, and I'm sorry. It's the wolf in me. He comes to the surface sometimes, especially right after a full moon. All that adrenaline and instinct still hasn't left my veins. We are very possessive, especially about our mates. It might seem a bit paramount if you're not used to it, but no offense is taken.
You keep saying that word. Lifemate. What it means?
I mean, I know what that means. But what is a companion for you?
Josh paused.
“I'm not sure I should tell. I think it might be something you'll add to that list of things you don't like.