42 | DEAD ENDS
*New lead on our friend. More details to come. 21:00*. I stare again at the message Ryker sent me this afternoon. I had originally planed to spend the little time I had available with Darine - to explain what I could about the real events of last year now that she’s allowed to know. But Ryker had sent me this cryptic message an hour after school ended - seconds before I was supposed to head over to my human friend’s house.
So instead of chatting with Darine, I’ve been sitting in the house I bought when I’d first come to Kiwina. Looking around, the place doesn’t even feel like mine. The scent of Mom’s God-awful tea has permeated most of the little upholstery and walls, leaving my sensitive nose twitching and nostrils burning with the smells of ginger and antiseptic. The chill of winter has started to set into the day, so sitting outside - though something I’m seriously considering - sounded like a bad idea. I doubt the colder weather would bother me, but I don’t want to be needlessly burning calories I may need.
Though Ryker’s text sounded promising, as the hours have ticked by, I can’t help but begin to worry. If Ryker and Craven had gotten a solid lead on the Hunter, they would have dropped whatever they were doing and reported in - right? The fact that Ry set up a time to - I presume - call me and talk, has my wild imagination spinning up countless possibilities. I’m up and pacing the length of the small kitchen after a few more minutes, the closer to the time I get, the antsier I feel. By my fifth pass of the sink, however, my head’s spinning - not from my thoughts, but the smell of ginger and antiseptic. My stomach lurches suddenly, rolling so violently it’s all I can do to keep myself from running to the bathroom to empty my stomach into the toilet.
I burst out of the kitchen’s back door and slam it closed behind me.
I suck in a deep breath of fresh, autumnal air. Crisp now that the sun’s gone down and the moon’s a sliver in the sky just above the tree line. Nausea clings to me a few minutes after my first lungful, slowly subsiding enough that my erratic heart rate’s gone closer to normal. And I feel something vibrating in my pocket. I curse under my breath as I fumble for my phone - wondering how long the thing’s been going off.
“I’m here.” I huff when I finally manage to answer the call. There’s a beat of silence, and I’m momentarily terrified I’ve just missed my cousin’s update.
“*Wisty, you sound off*.” Ryker replies slowly, the line crackling with the rustle of dried leaves. “*Is everything alright?*” There’s a slight note of concern in his voice, an edge of hesitation. I let out a huff and roll my eyes.
“No, everything’s fine.” I reassure him. “I just smelled something unpleasant- it’s not important.” I tell him the truth so he won’t worry. He should be able to hear the truth through the phone line, and it should set him at ease.
“*I see*.” Ryker murmurs, sounding less worried, but a little distracted.
“What’d you want to tell me?” I ask him, hoping the direct question will get him to refocus. After everything, I knew he and Craven would be…different…but the amount of hand-holding I feel I’m going to need to do during this conversation is starting to pull at my patience. *Maybe letting Ry and Craven run off to Track the Hunter connected to the Mississippi Clan was a bad idea*.
“*We managed to Track down a lead to the Clan. They’re surprisingly spread out.*” Ryker mumbles and clears his throat, the line cracking with static. I frown, holding the phone away from my ear as a sharp sound reverberates in my eardrum. “-*better at hiding their tracks than they were when Petra ran them out of the East, that’s for sure*.” He continues as though he hadn’t noticed the feedback. At his casual use of our grandmother’s name, I wince, fighting my predatory urge to growl. Now that Ry is talking freely, I don’t want to interrupt him. “*We found a lead near New Orleans but the Hunter seemed to know we were tailing him and we lost him back up the way to Baton Rouge*.”
“-*Not my fault you were standing upwind,*” Craven growls somewhere on the other side of the line. I feel a smirk pull at my lips as the muffled sounds of their argument ensue and I know Ryker’s got to be pressing the phone to his chest or covering the receiver.
“*Anyway*,” Ryker abruptly comes back, his voice clearer than before. “*Now that we have a positive identification of the Hunter, we think we can Track him a little better.*” Ryker says, but there’s no real confidence in his voice. I frown, not sure I like how the lack of confidence in his best attribute - Tracking - is showing. He’s one of the best Trackers I know. If Ry can’t find this guy - or be confident in finding him - then we’ve got a serious problem.
“Why don’t you guys take a break. Come back and regroup, talk it over-” I start, using the careful and calm voice I had when we’d last been face-to-face.
“*We don’t have time for that-*” Ryker interrupts me, his voice sharp and bitting.
*“Listen to Wisteria-”* Craven yells at Ryker, his volume making me cringe away from the phone and miss the muffled sounds of the other side of the line.
“*I wasn’t talking to you*-” Ry grumbles back, then a muffled crackling comes through the line and an annoyed huff of breath.
“*Wisteria*,” Craven addresses me by my Wolven name, the name Mom had given me to be known by to our family. A name I rarely use or hear outside of the Reinier Pack. The name stirs up bitter-sweet memories, now more bitter than sweet after the fight last year. Still, there’s a part of me that lightens when I hear Craven use it. “*We’ll take you up on that. Right now we’re just spinning our wheels. Expect us back by this time tomorrow. We’ll be at your Coven for a debriefing after we talk to Paris*.” I nod into the phone, briefly forgetting that he can’t see me.
“Yeah, sounds good.” I agree to his words, knowing his loyalty to his Pack comes first - even though he’s helping me. Craven and Ryker will need to check in with Paris before coming to Kiwina - despite Kiwina being closer to them than Port Greene. “You two be careful on your way back.” I add before I can stop myself. A weird sense about the mission they’re on pulling at a few alarms in the back of my head. I can’t trace exactly what makes me wary about their difficulty in Tracking the Hunter, but last thing I want if for either of them to get hurt.
“*Please, Wisty,*” Ryker scoffs from the other end of the line. “*We’re professionals.*” There’s a slightly calmer quality to his now jovial voice that relaxes a few of my tensed muscles. I press my back against the wall of the house, letting the chill of the night roll over me as I take a deep breath.
“We’ll figure this out, guys.” I tell them - knowing both are listening. “Get some rest.” I add when neither speak. I can almost feel their grim thoughts about finding this Hunter who’s somehow able to not only evade two highly skilled Trackers, but hide his identity from even those of his own Clan.
“*Good night, Wisty*.” Ry tells me before ending the call. I let out a sigh, watching the thick vapor puff out into a white cloud before dissipating.
Ry and Craven have been searching for what feels like months rather than a few weeks. The same message had been sent day after day - until today. Then after this call, I just know they won’t find anything new. Not in time, at least. We need to think up a new angle, something we haven’t thought of in terms of Tracking the Hunter. Whatever it is, the whole idea of Tracking aside from scent evades me and I stare up at the starry sky.
I had hoped Ry and Craven would have some good news, but after the call, I feel more relied that the two seem to be in rather good spirits rather than giving me promising news. It’s the weird calm that tells me that everything is fine. A primal feeling I can’t seem to trace. And it’s not coming from the Wolven in me. Something about this whole thing feels off, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe we’re not mean to find the Hunter after all.
I close my eyes, pressing the cold metal of the cell phone into my forehead and sending out a silent prayer to the powers that be for the safe return of my cousins.
