The Wolf Pack Read online

  It somehow dawned on me the voice and the wolf was connected in some way. I reached out and ran my hand through its white fur. It was soft and there was something almost sensual about the way that I was touching him. Its tongue licked my hand and it suddenly turned into a naked man nuzzling up to my hand. I couldn’t see his face, somehow it remained distorted just out of sight.

  Three more wolves in pure black came through the window. They attacked without the slightest provocation. I felt their teeth tear into my flesh and I struggled to remain conscious while I was losing a ridiculous amount of blood all over my floor. Why didn’t my parents come in when they heard the breaking glass?

  The wakeup call came with the faint sound of my alarm clock going off.

  I sprung to attention, sitting straight up, feeling my heart racing and my pulse pumping wildly in my wrists. The whole thing was a dream. Escaping my reality meant going into the darkest recesses of my mind, which made the forest a metaphorical obstacle standing in my way. It was always the same and the window was still intact but that didn’t explain the many little cuts in the palm of my hand.

  It wasn’t sensible to listen to the voices. My therapist called it transference but I didn’t prescribe to the notion. The dreams felt more real than anything else in my life and I wasn’t about to ignore them. The voices told me they were grooming me and when I questioned what they were grooming me for they told me to be patient. There were only two days left before I turned 21. My life would begin and end at the same time, at the stroke of midnight a new chapter was going to be written.

  Chapter Two

  My only friend had convinced me to try a blind date. I was regretting the very idea but Shelly could be quite persuasive. She wanted her friends to be as happy as she was and didn’t mind playing cupid. I figured I would play the game and graciously end the evening with a handshake. I wasn’t much for idle chitchat and my main interests didn’t have anything to do with sports or cars.

  “I’m not sure I can go through with this. I will do this on one condition and it’s non-negotiable. Call me in an hour with an emergency. We both know this isn’t going to go well and why we are pretending it is, is beyond me. I won’t hesitate to tell him what I think. Dating is a chore and I can’t stand sitting idle for too long.” I held the receiver to my ear walking down the sidewalk in a transitioning neighborhood.

  I was well aware of my surroundings, including those who were peddling drugs and prostitution, but it was none of my business. Getting involved would mean spotlighting some of my unusual talents. I had already scared a few people in high school with my athletic prowess and rumors of me breaking a man’s hand weren’t entirely correct. I actually broke his arm in three places and sent him to the hospital for three months of rehabilitation.

  I didn’t give him the satisfaction of worshiping his godlike status and he took exception. Touching me was the worst mistake of his life and he was never going to play football again. There was no way he was going to blame me in public but secretly he would ride by from time to time firing off a couple of rounds. His aim was atrocious and he couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn.

  “Alyssa, he’s a nice guy from a good family with money to burn. He’s a bit shy and it’s going to take a bit to get him to come out of his shell. Daniel is just getting his feet wet in the financial district but he has a softer side with his art. I’ve seen some of his stuff and to say they were controversial would be an understatement,” Shelly was a thousand miles away, on loan to consult on a private project for the military and she had taken her significant other with her as an impromptu vacation.

  I think she was afraid of leaving him alone to fend for himself with their kid. They pawned their little boy off on his mother. Thankfully, his mother was a saint and didn’t mind having unrestricted access to the little boy. I would stop by later in the week, when my studies didn’t have me hopping and up at all hours of the night burning the candle at both ends. It was a thankless task and my only reward was seeing my grades posted.

  “I am a little curious about his art and that’s the only reason why I’m doing this. I’ve always been creative in my own way with poetry and my writing. I’ve also always been good at making friends and I could use somebody of like mind to bounce ideas off of. We could become each other’s muse without the necessity of getting naked,” I declared knowing that she was not going to let me backpedal out of it graciously.

  “The only thing I ask is that you give him a chance,” She implored. I should have ignored her but the woman was looking out for my best interests even though she didn’t really know me as well as she thought she did.

  I stopped and looked at myself in the reflection of a shop window with the glaring lights pinpointing my flaws. My eyes, one green and the other blue, were always a conversation starter. It wasn’t necessarily what people could see which bothered me the most, though. There was this telltale scar on the back of my neck which had been a subject of debate from the moment I was old enough to know there had to be a reason for it.

  It was shaped like a crescent moon and would always itch whenever I touched it. It was almost subconscious and I just had to think about it to feel it start to react to my attention. Asking my mother and father about it brought about silence. They were obviously hiding something and it was about time it came to light. I was almost 21, still young enough to throw caution to the wind, but old enough to understand responsibility.

  “I don’t know how you talk me into these things. It’s too bad you’re in England and not here holding my hand to the fire. I’ve turned around three times and I am definitely going to make a fashionably late entrance. I hope he doesn’t offend easily. I think it goes without saying I don’t have a filter and I never censor what’s going to come out of my mouth,” I warned, but I had come too far to turn around and go back.

  The black leather skirt I was wearing hugged my curves in the right way to have men ogle me out of the corner of their eyes thinking they were being subtle. It was like I had this sixth sense to know when they were undressing me with their eyes. A white blouse had the first couple of buttons undone to expose a healthy amount of my cleavage, underneath was a blood red bra made of lace, it felt nice against my skin making me feel feminine. The contrast in colors made the bra shine through the transparent material of my blouse.

  “Let him do most of the talking and the rest will work itself out. It’s not a weakness to show some vulnerability. A man inherently wants to be the protector but he also respects a strong and confident woman,” she informed me but I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.

  The bit of makeup I had put on accentuated my natural beauty. I didn’t need much and just a light gloss on my lips made them a focal point for the evening in the unique color of purple. I was always going against conventional thinking stepping outside of my comfort zone for the shock value.

  It was funny but the three voices with me from the age of maturity weren’t there during the day. I thought it had to have something to do with the witching hour when the veil of the supernatural was lifted temporarily giving voice to those that didn’t have one. It was only a theory and I was always curious about those things that went bump in the night.

  “I just called for a pep talk and to get your assurance that you will call me in an hour. If things are going well, I can always refuse to take your call and you’ll know the reason why but I wouldn’t bet on it. This is going to be an effort in futility, you know. I still have exams to study for but thankfully my workload is nothing I can’t handle. Caffeine is my friend.” I could admire the city, when the dregs of society came out to play when the lights were extinguished.

  It was a different world than what the day walkers remembered. The light made people afraid to come out of their dark holes when they didn’t want people to know their business. Under the cover of darkness they ruled, while the rest of the world hid behind the walls of their homes pretending they were safe from harm, when it couldn’t be further from the truth. I always did have a different way of looking at things, making people nervous whenever I spoke of the atrocities in the world happening underneath our noses.

  Nobody wanted to be reminded of how the world was burning with poverty and crime was at an all-time high. People didn’t want to hear about impoverished nations struggling to feed their children. They wanted to live in their tiny bubbles thinking everything was fine.

  “I still don’t like you taking those pills. They can be addictive and I don’t want you to go down that road. It’s my fault for introducing you to my supplier,” She lamented and I could hear her guilt dripping off of every word she was saying to me.

  “Nobody put a gun to my head. I can stop cold turkey.” My words didn’t convey the conviction I was hoping for but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “I hope that’s true, I know from personal experience how hard it is to give up the crutch. I guess I wouldn’t have met Michael without the need to find help, though. He let me know I wasn’t alone and we battled the addiction to painkillers together. You never know when you’re going to find that one person to complete you. I never thought it was going to happen to me but it did. I really hope this date goes well,” She reiterated and we cut our conversation short when I heard Michael bellowing at the top of his lungs.

  Being a study of human nature gave me an unfair insight into the human mind. Pickup lines never worked on me, I was always wise to their plan to get into my pants. Some women found it adorable but I wasn’t of the same sentiment. Those gentlemen that wanted to spend time with me for no other reason than to get to know me were rare but there were always exceptions to the rule.

  I was still kicking myself for pushing Nathan away when he wanted to extend the intimacy of our frien
dship to a different level. He was my rock and confidant, someone of the opposite sex who wasn’t gay. I knew for quite some time he harbored feelings for me but I hoped it was a phase he was going through. He finally confessed a few months ago, telling me in the next breath he was offered a lucrative position in Dubai teaching English.

  I knew what he wanted me to say. The only way he was going to give up his dream was to hear me profess my love. Unfortunately, I didn’t have those same feelings and gave him my blessing to find his path without me. We still stayed in contact but it wasn’t the same as having him right there in front of me. He was the only one to know about the voices and he never judged me.

  He actually joked that I might have multiple personalities but I was afraid of how close to the truth he really might be. The voices started when I was 16. They were the main reason why I found myself pursuing a career in psychology. Dreams had hidden and underlying meanings. The symbolism of the wolf present in most of my dreams was an endless study. Some claimed it was about strength but it invoked terror in my heart.

  I wandered up the street listening to the buskers performing for the crowds. It was their lifeblood and I could tell they felt embarrassed but there were those doing it because of their need to be heard. Those were the ones I gravitated toward, trying to make their big break by becoming noticed. Their main concern was financial independence from those who said they couldn’t do it.

  My high heels made it hard to balance, I was trying something different for the sake of leaving a lasting impression. I knelt and placed a ten dollar bill in his guitar case with his music becoming a melody playing over and over again in my head. He was performing a concert with enthusiasm but he was different than all the others.

  Shadow was a favorite among the locals and being blind had most people wondering how he had the gift to strum those strings with such grace. The man was a shimmering light in the darkness with his lyrics quite memorable. There was always a message of hope. That message was vastly lacking in today’s society.

  “It’s all I have for today but I will be back tomorrow at this same time. It’s too bad you can’t see the smiles you put on everybody’s faces,” I told him. The music stopped and he reached out abruptly to take my face in his hands and I didn’t try to stop him.

  “We are all prisoners of our own shadows. Don’t let anybody extinguish your light. You have this unspoken beauty and strength you don’t want to talk about. Alyssa, you have been one of my greatest supporters and you have no idea how much it has meant to me. In the coming days, you’re going to have to remain strong and vigilant. I don’t want you to let anybody corrupt your beliefs. I don’t normally break out my New Orleans heritage but my grandmother always told me I had the gift to see past the façade.” He had dark skin but I couldn’t see behind the dark glasses to see into the windows of his soul.

  His long dark hair was a dirty mess of locks but he wasn’t looking for pity. Just the touch of his hand made me feel connected to him. His threadbare green army jacket signified that he was a veteran at a different time in his life. His hands were grizzled and hardened by manual labor but his love was his music.

  “There are more things on earth unexplainable that nobody wants to talk about. I appreciate the advice and I will take it into consideration. I’ve always been fascinated by other cultures including their beliefs and food. New Orleans has a rich history spanning back centuries with old world architecture. It’s on my list of destinations to visit at my earliest convenience. You do make a compelling case for putting it at the top of my list.” He was still touching me, basically getting a portrait to satisfy his curiosity.

  He stepped back nodding his head and picked up his guitar, with his fingers moving to the strings.

  I was walking across to the other side but something wasn’t right. The message coming from my eyes had me becoming a deer in the headlights. There was a vehicle coming from down the alley and the driver was pressing the accelerator instead of slowing down.

  I was going to become road kill.

  Chapter Three

  The car was speeding toward me with the metal grill gleaming in a threatening gesture. The exhaust was putrid and I couldn’t seem to move from where I was standing frozen to the pavement. Its wheels were spinning with burnt rubber.

  I could feel sweat dripping out of every pore of my body.

  Somebody grabbed me by the scruff of my purple leather jacket and pulled me out of the way at the last second. I was grateful for the assist. I was stunned watching this behemoth of a car sideswipe several others going down the street. Sparks followed in its wake leaving behind an indelible mark which the car owners weren’t going to be happy about.

  I turned to thank my protector but nobody was there. Those in the near vicinity had already forgotten what could’ve been a catastrophe. I should’ve been a hood ornament lying lifeless like some kind of trophy. My death would have sent shock waves through my town but I instinctively knew they would move on. It was the cycle of life. Only two things were constant. Death and taxes were things everybody had to worry about.

  My knees were a little skinned but no blood was drawn. It just felt raw but I actually enjoyed the pain, which was another reason why I wasn’t about to divulge personal information about myself to anybody. Not even my parents knew of my penchant for burning myself and cutting my skin to feel that intoxicating pain.

  I was supposed to be at the restaurant at six and it was almost seven. He would have to be pretty damn desperate to stick around for an hour drumming his fingers incessantly on the table waiting for me to arrive. He probably thought I'd had second thoughts and had done him the discourtesy of standing him up.

  My parents raised me to be cordial and kind. I couldn’t in good conscience walk away without making an appearance. Though the accident did give me a good excuse for cutting the evening short. It was a nice place with an Italian flair, followed by spices from the kitchen which assaulted me from the moment I stepped through the door to be greeted by the maître d’. He was dressed impeccably and the ambiance was romantic with lit candles on every table.

  He didn’t have to ask before grabbing a menu and making his way over to the table in the back corner. The first thing I noticed about Daniel was his dazzling white smile. He took my hand and placed his lips on the back of it and then he gave me a curious look.

  “I was going to ask what took you so long but I can see it must’ve been a bumpy ride when you came down from heaven. Did I really say that? Forgive me but I don’t know how to turn it off. If you don’t mind me asking…what happened?” He sat back down and motioned for me to do the same thing, until I realized what a sight I had made, making people in the restaurant whisper behind my back.

  It wasn’t just my knees scraped but my hands had road rash and there was a tear at the shoulder of my blouse exposing my bare skin. It was mostly superficial wounds and the only thing bruised was my pride.

  “I had a disagreement with a car. You can imagine how that went. I would say you should see the other guy but he didn’t exactly stick around for autographs.” My attempt at humor was a good way to break the ice instead of waiting for that inevitable awkward silence to fill the air.

  “People in this town drive crazy. You really do need to have eyes in the back of your head. Why don’t you freshen up before dinner and I’ll order us a bottle of wine? Let’s hope the rest of your evening is uneventful and pleasant.” He was the dictionary meaning of tall, dark and handsome, with his suit molded to him like a second skin.

  There was no way to hide his muscular physique and broad shoulders busting out of the material. His hair was buzzed to stubble and his face was shaven with just a hint of a five o'clock shadow. There was this bad boy vibe underneath the prim exterior trying to bleed through. His grip was manly but there was a sensuality in how his fingers rubbed almost imperceptibly across the back of my hand to send a shiver down my spine.

  “I could use something strong to drink to take the edge off. I wasn’t entirely sure about this evening and what happened only made matters worse. I’m not sure but there’s something about you. I can’t put my finger on it but it has me curious to know more.” I was walking by a table on my way to the restroom when a woman out of nowhere passed me a sewing kit from her purse.