Red and the Wolf (8 page)

When he stopped speaking, Ruby glanced at him with a small smile. “More oak tree legends?”

His gaze jumped to hers at the mention of the oak tree and he smiled.

“You remember that day, huh?”

She shrugged. “It was fun, hiding from Lowell. And then listening to you make up stories about the oak tree.”

“I didn’t make them up.” She smirked at him. “I mean, I can’t testify that they are all utter truth, but I didn’t make the legends up. They were all things I’d read. Besides, most legends have some kind of basis in truth somewhere, right? That’s how they become legends.”

“I guess,” she conceded, returning her gaze to the path ahead. “Are you going to tell me some wolf legends?”

“Only one,” he said hesitantly. “Have you heard of lycans?”

Now she laughed outright. “C’mon, Rafe, you’re going to tell me we’ve been dealing with a werewolf? Seriously?”

“No, not a werewolf.” Ruby was relieved, afraid they’d been about to jump into the Twilight Zone. “A lycan,” he said.

She stared at him, saw the serious expression on his face. “Please tell me you’re pulling my leg.”

He took a deep breath. “I wish I were.”

Ruby skidded to a stop. “Rafe, this is ridiculous! Werewolves—lycans don’t exist. Except in the minds of people with overactive imaginations, or those who put them in books and movies.”

Rafe hadn’t stopped when she did and she had to jog to catch up to him again.

“Lycans aren’t werewolves, they’re shape shifters,” he said, as if she hadn’t just protested the reality of them. “Their appearance is very wolf-like, and so people assume they are werewolves.”

“Okay, I’ll play along,” she said, praying that he really was just messing with her. “Where did this lycan come from?”

He shrugged, muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt. “No one knows for sure where this strain originated. It’s been passed down from generation to generation, though until recently, the family has been able to control the lycanthropy. Now, one of the lycans is out of control.”

Ruby bit her lip against the sarcasm that wanted to come out. Rafe seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying. And she’d thought her father was—

“Wait! Are you saying my mom
was
killed by a lycan?”

“There is evidence—”

A boom of thunder directly overhead interrupted Rafe’s speaking. They both flinched at the unexpected sound. Glancing up, Ruby saw that black clouds had rolled in and now blotted the sky.
How had that happened without my notice?
One look at her companion told her exactly how it had escaped her attention.

“We’d better find some cover, quick,” Rafe said needlessly. Ruby had grown up in Piera. She knew as well as anyone how sudden and fierce storms could be here. She pulled her backpack around to the front as she walked quickly behind Rafe, unzipping it and pulling out her poncho. She pulled the red vinyl hooded garment over her head, stumbling when it caught across her eyes, stealing her vision.

A steady hand caught her, keeping her from tumbling to the ground. “Thanks,” she said, tugging the garment down, smiling up at . . . Lowell.

“Lowell!” She jerked her arm from his grip. “What are you doing here?”

“Yes, bro, what are you doing here?” Rafe’s voice reflected his anger at Lowell’s sudden appearance.

“Dad told me where you were headed. I figured I’d catch up and walk along with you.” Lowell lifted a strand of Ruby’s blackened hair. “You changed your hair.” Disappointment rimmed his voice.

Rafe looked like he was going to lose his temper, as lightening split the sky and the first raindrop fell.

“You guys can argue later. We need to find shelter
now
,” Ruby said, pushing past the both of them. She scanned their surroundings. Suddenly realizing where they were, she turned to Rafe. “The cave.”

He understood immediately what she meant, grinning at her as he caught her elbow and jogged alongside her. He went up the slippery dirt hill that would shortly turn to mud once the deluge started, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her up behind him. Lowell followed close behind. Rafe led her into the small cave that would easily fit the three of them if hunched over then stepped back out.

“Go inside, Lowell. I’ll keep watch,” he told his brother.

“You go inside, and
I’ll
keep watch,” Lowell argued.

Ruby rolled her eyes at the two stubborn men, glaring unrelentingly at one another as the rain began pouring. Thunder and lightning continued to peal, sounding as if they were trying to rend the earth.

“Rafe, Lowell!” she called. They both looked inside, where she had turned her flashlight on to light the darkness. “Stop being jerks and get in here. Both of you. What are you going to keep watch for? A dangerous, man-eating bunny that happens by?”

They glanced at one another, and finally Lowell ducked inside, followed reluctantly by Rafe. Lowell lowered himself to her left side, Rafe to her right. Both were soaked. She shook her head.

“You know, if you two would’ve come in to begin with, I wouldn’t be sitting here smelling two big, wet, stinky guys.”

Lowell looked a little shamed, but Rafe just laughed and said, “You definitely need to let your hair go back to its natural color, Red.” He looked down at the basket she held on her lap. “Got any lunch in there?”

“Always thinking with your stomach,” she grumbled, opening the basket and pulling out a few of the muffins. They both took one, while she munched on a third.

“So, you wanna continue your lycan story?” she said to Rafe after he’d finished his muffin. Lowell began choking, and Ruby turned his way, patting him on the back with one hand and handing him a bottle of water with the other.

“Thanks,” he managed, while glaring at Rafe. In fact, glaring wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how he looked at his brother. He looked like he wanted to leap across the space and tear him apart. Ruby recoiled at his expression.

“Maybe later,” Rafe muttered.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Lowell snarled. “Please, finish telling Ruby about the lycans.”

“Don’t tell me you believe the stories as well,” she said in disbelief.

Lowell’s eyes dropped to her face. “You don’t believe him?”

“Of course not. There are no such thing as werewolves—excuse me, I mean, lycans.”

Lowell grinned, but something dangerous lurked beneath the grin that unsettled Ruby. She couldn’t say exactly what it was, but she didn’t like the ominous feeling it gave her.

“What did he tell you?” Lowell asked.

“Leave it alone, Lowell,” Rafe warned.

Something was going on between them. Ruby kept quiet about exactly what Rafe’d told her, since Rafe clearly didn’t want her to tell Lowell. She pulled her poncho off and hung it by the hood on a small rocky outcropping. Because of the rain and the chilly interior of the cave, she decided to put her sweatshirt on. She unzipped and removed her jacket, then opened her pack to retrieve her sweatshirt.

Rafe hissed out a curse next to her, leaning forward and lightly grabbing her arm. Wondering if she had a spider on her—which would be cause for genuine alarm as far as she was concerned—she flinched and said “What? What is it?”

She followed his gaze and saw what he was looking at. Bruises that reflected the shape of his fingers stood out against her pale skin on her upper arms. She looked up at him, saw the self-recrimination etched on his face, and opened her mouth to tell him it didn’t matter. Before she could speak, Lowell pressed from the other side.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” The fury in his voice frightened Ruby. She turned to look at him, saw his eyes rise to Rafe’s. Understanding of who had caused the bruises darkened his face. “
You
?” he demanded.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ruby said.

She shrunk from the malice in Lowell’s eyes. “Doesn’t matter? He touched you violently enough to leave a mark and it
doesn’t matter
?” He turned a murderous gaze on Rafe. Rafe looked as though he’d welcome a pummeling from his brother.

“He didn’t touch me violently,” Ruby said, trying to sit up tall enough to place herself in Lowell’s line of vision. Rafe still hadn’t looked up from the marks. “He was telling me something urgently and held my arms. I bruise easily. It’s not a big deal.”

A low growling noise came from Lowell, catching Rafe’s attention. Something he saw in Lowell caused his expression to change to one of extreme anxiety.

“Lowell, you need to get control,” Rafe said, speaking low and soothingly. Lowell’s breathing increased and Ruby leaned closer to Rafe to escape Lowell’s hot breath. His eyes were glued to Rafe. “Lowell, get control,
now
. Ruby’s between us. You don’t want to hurt Ruby.”

When he said that, Lowell’s gaze dropped to Ruby. She could’ve sworn his eyes
glowed
. He closed his eyes, leaning away from her, breathing deeply as if struggling with himself. Finally, his breathing evened out and he opened his eyes. They weren’t glowing.
Of course, dummy. Eyes don’t glow.
Ruby decided all Rafe’s talk of werewolves, or rather of lycans, had messed with her head.

Lowell seemed to notice Ruby pressing against Rafe, watching him with a wary fear. He folded his arms across his substantial chest as he leaned against the cave wall, a roguish smile on his lips. “I’m calm, Rafe. You can relax.” Rafe did relax behind her, and Ruby quickly pulled her sweatshirt on, covering the marks. “Since you’re all about telling Ruby secrets, maybe you should tell her your secret.”

“That’s enough.” Rafe’s voice had returned to its warning tone.

“Ruby,” Lowell said, dragging his eyes from Rafe to her. “Did Rafe tell you how long he’s been home?”

Ruby stopped in the act of putting her jacket back over the sweatshirt and looked at Rafe. He was glaring at Lowell, but his eyes cut to her and she could see the anguish clearly.

“Six months,” Lowell said.

Ruby’s breath caught. She waited for Rafe to deny it. He didn’t. She swallowed over the agony of the truth. Without saying anything, she put her poncho back on, pulling the hood over her head.

“I’ll be back,” she said, darting out of the cave before either of them could stop her, though she heard them both call her name.

She ran quickly away, the rain beating down on her head. Sure that one or both of them would come after her, she turned and ran-slid down a muddy hill. At the bottom was one of the other few oaks in the forest. She looked up, saw a low hanging branch, and quickly scrambled up the tree. She heard Rafe calling her, too close for comfort. She climbed a few branches higher then settled herself on a thick, sturdy branch.

Rafe came in sight below her and she stilled, hoping he’d move on. Instead, he stopped and leaned his back against the trunk, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Just her luck he’d choose this tree to rest against. She stayed still and waited.

The sound of the rain was muffled here by the thick, close growing trees. The branches formed a sort of canopy that allowed some moisture in, just not in the amounts it came down in in the open areas. Rafe ran a hand across the top of his head then looked into the distance.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Red.” She reeled as he said her name. Did he know she was here, or was he just talking to himself? “But it seems like that’s all I ever do. I keep saying I’m sorry. Doesn’t really help though, does it?” He pushed away from the trunk, then turned and shoved against it, as if testing its strength. “You coming down or am I coming up?”

Crap.
She pushed the tears from her face.

“Fine,” he said when she didn’t answer. He jumped and caught the first branch, the same one she’d used to climb up. He was up to her branch much faster than even she’d gotten up. The branch sagged a little beneath his weight as he settled across from her.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked.

He smiled. “Only oak in the area. Where else would you be?”

She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, dropping her gaze. “Found me,” she said. “Now what?”

“I had to leave three years ago because I was afraid if I didn’t, I would lose you forever. I was afraid I would hurt you.”