Chapter 30

He shook his head.
“That’s mean even for him.”
“He wants her to hate him,” he said with a sad look. “She’s a great girl but Peter and Phyllis disagree.”
I frowned. “Why?”
He sighed and brushed his hair with his fingers. “She tries too hard. She can’t accept that Phyllis doesn’t like her like in that way.”
“Maybe he should give her what she wants. I mean they’re a couple anyway.”
“Phyllis would never do that.” He paused and looked up at the house that we were approaching. “Are you sure that no one is home?” when I nodded, he continued. “He might love girls but he values family more.”
“I can understand why Phyllis doesn’t like her.” I really did. “But I don’t understand why Peter has to feel that way.”
He sighed. “Do I have to tell you everything?”
I nodded with a smile. He helped me up the porch when I slipped and almost fell. He had his iron grip on me as fast as lightening. It was as though he had expected it.
“Thanks.” I said maladroitly. I could feel my cheeks warm up in embarrassment.
He nodded casually. “Peter and Phyllis have always been close.” He said with a look of uncertainty and something else. Was that covetousness or was it something far beyond my eyes could see?
“What about you?”
He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sometimes I felt left out you know. I always wished I could’ve someone that I could relate to like that. I know that it’s my own fault though.”
“how?”
I opened the door and he walked in first. He let his black knee length coat drop carelessly to the floor and walked to the kitchen.
“Can I make you something to eat?” he asked.
“But this is my house I should be asking you that?”
He rolled his eyes, taking out a few contents from the cupboard. “This is the twenty-first century. Things are different now.”
“You never answered my question.”
“Well.” He sighed. I could see he didn’t really want to tell me about it. He hesitated for a while. “They probably blame me for our parent’s death.”
“That’s being unfair to you.” I said running a hand over my forehead. “I know for a fact that Peter doesn’t feel that way.”
“How would you know?” he sounded so much like the child I saw on Peter’s memories. My heart ached for him. He had to grow up too fast. He had to carry guilt that was too much for his little shoulders. He was such a brave person.
“Peter.” I said swallowing a lump on my throat. “I’m in his thoughts all day long. He never thinks of that. And Phyllis would never blame you.”
He nodded unsure.
“The only thing keeping you from being happy is the fact that you haven’t moved on.”
He placed a pan on the stove and poured some olive oil. “I know.”
“So,” I said changing the subject. “Tell me what you heard about the werewolves growing up.”
He smiled glad for the new topic. “I’ve heard plenty.” He picked up perfectly chopped garlic and sprinkled it back on the tray it was in. “like, you guys can’t stand garlic mixed with holy water. You burn into ashes.”
I laughed unreservedly. “That’s stupid.”
“But you know they have a few things right...”
“Like,” I asked when the laughter died down.
He smiled and turned his attention to what he was doing. “They know that you can’t control yourselves on full moon, you have mates, and that you’re immune to human sicknesses.”
“Hey.” I said with a tight small voice, pretending to be hurt. “We do catch fever.”
He looked up so I could see him roll his eyes at me. He poured the onion in the pan. “That’s not fever. It’s just symptoms a wolf gets when coming of age.”
I nodded and watched closely. “What’re you making?”
He looked up from stirring. “It’s pan-fried fish with tomato harissa.”
I smiled. “I haven’t tried it before.”
“I know.”
We spent the rest of the night talking about random things. Half the time he was complaining about the weather. Apparently, he didn’t enjoy the sunny days. I even found out that he had a girlfriend that he promised to introduce me to someday.
“I should get going.” He said an hour before my family would be back. He stood and took the dishes to the kitchen. We were in the family room and just about done watching ‘To kill a mocking bird.’
“Thank you for coming.” I said following him to the front door.
He glanced at me over his shoulder when I picked up his coat. “Tell me…” he paused I wasn’t sure why. “ Just for interest sake. How will you explain the scent in the house?”
I smiled reassuringly at him. “I still have the perfume Peter brought for me and I think they’ll be overwhelmed by harissa fried pan.”
He laughed. “It’s not…” he stopped when he noticed my glare. I didn’t really care what he called the dish. I enjoyed it and that’s all that mattered. And, knew Sue would enjoy it too.
He stopped and looked around.
“What?”
He didn’t answer me at first and then he turned stridently. “Someone has been following us.”
“I can’t smell anything or see it for that matter.”
He smiled. “The reason, might be because it’s one of your kind,”
I nodded and followed close behind him.
“You should go back home.”
“No.” I said panicky. “I won’t leave you alone.”
“I’ll be fine.” He said. “Just promise me you’ll be safe.”
“No.” I said shaking my head. “No.” I wouldn’t forgive herself if something happened to him. “Please don’t make me leave.”
He sighed and took me in his arms. “I know how to fight.”
“I know that but it doesn’t soothe my worries. I want to help you if necessary. I’m the one who got you into this. The least I can do is help.”
“You can’t betray your own kind.” He said. “You can’t fight him.”
“I don’t care.” I said. I hoped he could pick up the honesty in my voice. “I can’t turn my back on you.”
“It’s your own kind.” He said. “I can’t let you do that.”
“You’re important to me Stephaney. I’m not leaving. Whoever it is…” I paused to breathe. “They’ll have to forgive me.”
He nodded and took my hand in his and led the way.
“Is he still following?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “I’m tempted to kill him,” he said honestly.
I smiled. “It’s true what they say. A Wendigo will always be a Wendigo.”
He laughed. “That’s not the way they say it. It goes something like this…” he paused and thought for a while. “A tiger never changes its spots.”
“Same difference,” I said much at ease when he gave my hand a squeeze.
We were at the end of the territory and he hugged me tightly.
“If something happens,” He said. “Tell Peter and he’ll be able to contact me and I’ll come for you as soon as I can.”
“I promise.” I said feeling sad saying goodbye. Why were there sacrifices, I wasn’t willing to make, when it came to having him in my life?
“I’ll call you.” He said in a controlled voice. “It’ll be better if you were a Wendigo.”
I nodded. “I know.”
Hesitantly he turned his back on me and I had to force herself to look away. I knew if I turned to look at him, I’d stop him from leaving.
“Not so fast you filthy Wendigo.” I heard a bone chilling voice say.
Stephaney was next to me in less than a second. He stood in a protective stance in front of me. He snarled in warning when Milton took a step closer. I smiled when I noticed it was him. A sadistic part of me wanted Stephaney to hurt him and I couldn’t bring herself to regret it.
“”I’m Milton.” He said with a mischievous smile. “And you must be the guy that has her hiding her scent.” He nodded to himself. “Aha.”
I rolled my eyes. “Milton.” I addressed him seriously.
“Hey.” He said in a sweet voice.
“This must be the runt that Peter was talking about.” Stephaney said his gaze watching Milton in an instance glare. “I doubt he has long to live.” The anticipation was clear in my best friend’s eyes.
“Why do untamable wendigos call me a runt?” Milton asked annoyed.
We ignored him. I imagined herself a wizard. I’d say my spell and he would turn into a black cat…
I smiled to herself and looked at Milton who had a confused look on his face. For a second I felt sorry for him, but just for a second.
“Why?” I asked. I almost forgot that Milton was there.
“The day he found out about him.” he paused and smiled. “Let’s just say I had to replace the kitchen window and our front door.”
Somehow, that brought a smile to my face. “But why,” I asked. I already knew why but I guess I wanted to hear it from someone else’s lips.
“He kept on talking about you being his.” He shook his head as if to rid it off the thought. “It was incredible to watch.”
Milton who has been listening in silence all this time cleared his throat. “Who are you?”
“My name doesn’t matter.” Stephaney said. “What do you want?”
Milton pointed a finger at me. I could feel my canines inching to bit off all his fingers and have them for dinner.
“What have you done to her?” he asked in a horrified voice. “Her eyes are all black.”
“It’s called bloodlust.” Stephaney said with pride. “She’s one of us now.”
“I don’t see that at all.” Milton said sarcastically.