Silver-White (The Great North Woods Pack #1) (3 page)

Evie stood frozen with the detached
courage of a dreamer as what began as an invigorating running dream spiraled
into a nightmare. There before her, passing slowly out of the shadow into the dim
light, she saw first the eyes and head, followed by the full frame of an
enormous white wolf. His coat gleamed like frosted metal in the night; his
breathing sounded as the low and distant chugs of a slow-moving train.

Only when his snowy frame had fully presented
itself from the blackness could she fully appreciate how truly enormous he was.
His sides had scuffed the wood of the broken doorway in passing, and now
standing unobstructed, the white giant’s raised head was higher than her own,
his shoulders likewise. With mere feet separating them, for a time girl and
wolf stood motionless, soundless but for their low breathing, green eyes
staring into green eyes.

In any other circumstance, any other
dream, Evie would have run for her life—
if
her heart hadn’t already stopped with terror. But this dream was different; its
origins were beyond her subconscious. Likewise, the creature standing before
her was something beyond her own imaginings. She knew almost nothing of wolves
but for the painfully obvious: this was no common animal.

His presence was like standing opposed
to a stately horse. But unlike a horse, he gave no indications of nerves, no
hint of excitement; he was sternly confident, stationary as if carved from
stone. His eyes were neither merry nor a menace; they were deep, penetrating, liquid-green
eyes, almost knowingly expressive, and somehow seemed to hold Evie in place.

But for the obvious, the dream could
feel no stranger than that, as she stared Evie became aware of her absence of
fear. It had been present at first, but in the following seconds had somehow
dissolved under the wolf’s gaze. In its place now she felt awe, wonder, admiration
near envy, and something else that she could only perceive as a strange sense
of connection or familiarity. Such beauty, such nobility she would never have
guessed could coexist in the body of such a capable killer. Yet there he was, little
more than an arms-length away, standing dreadfully and splendidly beyond definition.
She could not speak. She could not move. She could only stand in the grip of
his gaze.

However impressed she was, Evie lacked foreknowledge
of her family history. Without that advantage she had no way of guessing that
she was meeting the first of all wolves, the great father of her bloodline who
answered only to One. She did not realize the honor of his silent gaze, his calm
evaluation. Many before her had received far less courtesy.

After their long exchange of the eyes,
first to move was the wolf. Its presentation over, slowly it began lowering its
great head.

Evie knew what was to follow the moment
he moved, but she gave no thought or effort to escape. A strange and resolute acceptance
had taken her over, had seemed to pass into her by—somehow
from
—the wolf’s eyes. She understood that life as she’d known it
was ending, but it was not to be feared, was not
the
end. He had invited; she had come willingly. He had tested; she
had stood firm against the power of his gaze. Next was the passing of the gift,
the inheritance of life beyond her wildest daydreams.

As the wolf’s great bulk bowed lower,
legs tight, ready to spring,
the early rumblings of a thunderous growl started from
deep in his belly. With those rumblings his face began to change. His lips drew
back, revealing his terrible mouth, his ears went back, and his eyes narrowed. As
the rumblings increased he took in a long breath that seemed to expand his
already staggering size. And then with a sudden, violent shake of his head, the
meeting ended; he opened his mouth wide and let go a savage growl—a deafening roar
that rattled Evie’s very bones.

In the same instant the silver shadow of
a wolf leapt forth from the crouching white giant. Like the ghost of a ghost the
shadow hung in suspense—a glimmering momentary arc bridging girl and beast—and
as it began its descent, as if driven by a sudden blast of wind the shadow
fractured, shattering as thin glass shatters into a thousand glittery pieces. In
an icy flash it became a sheet of howling snow.

As the sudden storm crashed against her Evie
cowered for the first time, shielding her face with her arms as she screamed
the dry and strangled scream of a nightmare. The night, the cabin, the wolf beyond
the storm, all faded; her world went blinding white in a rush of roaring wind.

That moment Evie woke with a sharp gasp.
Sitting up tensely straight, she heard the wolf’s roar mingled with her dreamt
scream fading in her head. Glancing around with wild eyes, to her great relief she
recognized comfortable, familiar surroundings. She was tucked warmly into the
big four-poster bed, in the room kept for her in the upstairs of her
grandparents’ house. Her fever had passed. Her heart was pounding like a drum.

-2-

The town of Ludlow is scarcely named on
a map. With just over three hundred citizens, its residents are far outnumbered
by animals, both wild and domestic.

Located within New Hampshire’s Great
North Woods region, most of Ludlow’s visitors pass through during the fall
foliage season or on their way to the grand hotel in the next town over. Although
hearty campers and fishermen can sometimes be found in these woods during the
summer months, most stay to the south, in the national parks of the White
Mountains. But throughout the long winters many snowmobilers frequent Ludlow’s
Convenience Store for gas, then cross the road for a hot meal at Grandmas
Kitchen. The area’s only restaurant, The Kitchen is regarded in such circles for
its large portions of good food at ridiculously low prices.

A single road connects Ludlow to the
outside world. Through the center of town it cuts straight, lined sparsely with
houses, trees, and what few businesses the town can sustain—a typical old New
England village. At the town’s heart is the convenience store, the restaurant,
a small church, a two-bay firehouse, a U.S. Postal Service mailbox (the nearest
Post Office is miles away,) and Ludlow’s Building & Farm Supply; Ludlow’s
saw mill and logging headquarters is reached by a secondary road near the
supply store. A half mile beyond the center of town the road narrows again, and
the landscape becomes dominated once more by trees and rolling foothills.

About a mile from the town’s edge an
iron gate bars an otherwise unmarked gravel road; hedged by trees, the gravel
road is long and topped with crushed blue stone. A few hundred yards beyond the
gate, the trees around the road gradually thin and give way to fields of cow
corn and hay, and acres of open pastures. The gravel road divides these fields;
wooden fences mark and divide the pastures; large red barns with white trim
house cows, horses, pigs, goats, chickens, a handful of geese, and several
bison. On past the barns the gravel road continues up a slight grade. When the
grade levels off there stands a long greenhouse, and beyond the greenhouse the
lawns are green and the flower gardens are perfectly kept throughout the summer
months. The road finally ends before a large house opposed by a garage with
four bay doors. Elaborate for a farmhouse, with large windows, skylights and
wraparound porches, the house is built of oak.

In the upstairs of this oak farmhouse Evie
woke with her heart drumming, a sound like howling winds fading in her head.

Looking around as her heart rate
settled, Evie saw late afternoon sunlight streaming into the room. As she moved
she found that the aches and pains of the morning had subsided to a tolerable
level, and as her eyes cleared she noted the woodwork, the familiar furnishings
and rustic décor—a far cry from her colorful room in Alabama. With absolute certainty
Evie knew where she was. But too, fading slowly from her mind’s eye, she saw
with much confusion the dark woods, the moonlit clearing ... the wolf.

The sound of the bedroom door slowly
opening drew her attention. Evie saw her grandfather peering into the room.

“I thought I heard you,” he said softly.

“Papa Joe,” Evie whispered hoarsely.

“The one and only,” he answered with a
smile. “I was tempted to say good morning, but we’re closer to evening now. Tell
me, Sleeping Beauty, how are you feeling?”

“Y—you wouldn’t believe,” Evie
stammered, running her hands through her long crimson hair. “I saw … I mean I dreamed
… It was just
crazy
.”

Joseph Ludlow took a seat at the edge of
the four-poster bed. All but his eyes seemed calm and composed. “I know you had
quite a dream,” he said.

“That’s just it, Papa. It wasn’t a regular
dream. I was
here
.”

“Yes, you’ve been here for a few hours
now.”

“No, no, I was at home one minute,” she
explained, mixing the two dreams together, “but then I was
here
at the farm. I saw the woods, the riding trails. I saw—”

“Shh, settle down,” he said, leaning
forward and hugging his granddaughter. “There’s no need to get worked up. All
is well I assure you.”

“But, Papa—”

“Stay calm. You’ve been through a lot in
the last twenty four hours. Your temperature was outrageous. It’ll take a while
for you to adjust to everything.”

Adjust
?
Evie thought, pulling back from the hug.
I saw a monster.
“I saw a wolf,” she blurted. “Out in the woods by
the old cabins, there was a ginormous wolf. He—”

“The cabins, you say?”

“Yes. In
your
old cabin. I saw a wolf. He—”

“Easy, easy; I know.”

“No!” she said, almost in tears now. “I mean
it. I saw him. I know I did.”

“And I believe you,” Joseph Ludlow said
calmly, but he could no longer restrain his smile.

Evie eyed him suspiciously. “You know
about the dream?”

“I do.”

“How?”

“By my grandfatherly magic, that’s how. Yes
I know about the wolf. What I don’t know is what he said to you. Can you
remember? Anything at all?”

“No,” she answered after a moment’s
searching of her cluttered memories. “No, not really.”

Joseph Ludlow nodded and lowered his
eyes momentarily. He appeared unsatisfied but asked no more questions. Then he
raised his eyes again, and his smile returned.

Evie watched him for a moment before she
spoke again. He was smiling even though she was freaking out—just as her mother
had done. Was this a joke? A
bad
joke? Were they all in on it? Was it punishment for missing her August visit? Or
was she simply losing her mind altogether? “Did I talk in my sleep?” she asked
cautiously.

“You may have,” her grandfather replied,
“but I never heard a word.”

“Then how do you know about my dream?”

“Just relax for now and try not to worry
yourself. We’ve got a lot to discuss, you, me, and your mother. But there’s no
fire to put out this minute.”

“I’m not five,” Evie said in a stronger
tone. “If I’m losing my mind, I need to know.”

“I promise you’re not losing your mind,”
he said gently.

“A joke?”

“No, definitely not. I wouldn’t joke
about this.”

“Papa, I’m scared,” Evie whispered. “I
feel …”

“Don’t be frightened,” he said softly. “You’ve
never doubted me before. Believe me, Red; nothing is wrong.”

“Then what’s happening to me? Why am I
here? Please, just tell me what’s going on.”

Joseph Ludlow took a deep breath as he
stared at his granddaughter. Her eyes were flooded with new depths of green
that pierced him deeply, as his own eyes pierced most others. “You really can’t
wait?” he asked.

“No,” she said with a hard face.

“Wouldn’t you prefer to have your mother
and grandmother here, if we’re going to have a serious talk?”

Evie shook her head. “Just you. Tell me.”

“All right,” he sighed, “This isn’t my
preferred method. But, if you insist, I guess I’ll just … be blunt.”

“I can handle it,” Evie said, hanging on
his words while searching his expressions. “Please.”

“Here goes,” he said, his tone flat.
“First off, obviously some things have been withheld from you. Let me assure
you that it was done for good reason. None of the children know, until they’re
deemed mature enough to handle such knowledge.”

Evie nodded without an expression. Her
insides were jumping nervously. “Okay …”

“The most important things you remember
growing up are all true. Your grandmother and I love these North Woods, the
farm, the animals, and most of all our family. But as far as we go personally …
our genes, our history … we are not normal; our family is not normal. I know
most teenagers think that at times, but with us, it’s quite true.”

Now he paused.

“Go on,” Evie said.

“We’re wolves,” Joseph Ludlow said
plainly and quickly. His eyes were sparkling. “You dreamed of a wolf because
you
are
one. That experience was you
coming into your own … your attainment of adulthood.”