Silver-White (The Great North Woods Pack #1) (5 page)

Looking up from her ear, she made full eye
contact with her reflection for the first time. Her green eyes were still her
own, but they were bolder, sharper, greener than ever. For a long time she
stared, getting gradually closer to her reflection. It seemed the closer she
drew, the deeper she saw into their emerald pools.
Deeper,
deeper, until …

With a start she pulled sharply back
from the mirror, a panicked gasp escaped her throat, her legs seemed to go
away, and in half a second she found herself on the floor in a heap. Her heart
had come right up into her throat; a cold shiver rippled through her. For a
split second she’d seen—or thought she had seen—the white face and sharp eyes
of the wolf from the dark of her dream. She’d felt the same pull and hold of
those eyes, felt herself falling into them, almost
into
the mirror. Then she’d felt the cold rush of the roaring storm
against her face. Her hair had blown back.

Now, as she sat struggling to swallow
her heart down into its rightful place, the mirror was simply a mirror once
more. She saw only her frightened reflection as she regained her breath.
The room
was warm, lit by the sinking sun.

Carefully she got to her feet and moved
away from the old mirror, keeping her eyes lowered. Though the blast of cold
that had chilled her was gone, still she had goose bumps tickling her arms. “Get
it together,” she told herself. “It was just a fever. A really bad fever.”

On the bed stand she found the glass of
water that had been left and drank it down. The water was good in her dry
throat, but it was not all that she craved. “You’re hungry,” she told herself. The
smell of food was wafting up from downstairs; her stomach churned in response.
“Good food fixes everything,” she reminded herself. “That’s what Gram would
say, right?”

In a duffle bag Evie found the clothes
packed hastily by her mother. She dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt (Even
in September it was much cooler up north than she was accustomed to) and threw
her hair back into a ponytail. In passing she avoided making eye contact with
the mirror on her way to the hall. As she opened the bedroom door, the quiet conversation
from downstairs ceased once more.

Before the balcony railing Evie
hesitated. Looking down over the great room, her eyes moved down the tall stone
chimney to the fireplace. On the square-edged stone mantel there stood a ceramic
statue of a wolf, its head tipped back in a howl. She’d seen this statue hundreds
of times—along with the many other decorative relics of nature present in that
old house—and had never once given it a second thought. But right then, the
sight of that wolf made her heart beat strangely. And though she fought to
ignore it, a cold chill crawled slowly up her spine.

Descending the wide oaken stairway, Evie
felt the eyes of her family resting on her. No one spoke. She was the elephant
in the room—or gorilla or whatever—that all were thinking of but none were
mentioning. She wondered which of them would be the first to break the silence.

“I’m starving,” she said at the foot of
the stairs, surprising even herself. Considering how strange she felt, she was quite
proud of her unrehearsed attempt at lightening the mood. She even managed a
weak smile. “Something smells really good down here.”

Instantly the others seemed to relax
somewhat.

“Your grandmother has prepared a feast,”
her mother said in her typically sunny tone. “As usual.”

“Sit here,” her grandmother instructed.
“Start with one of your favorite muffins. They’re fresh from the oven.”

Evie’s spirits rose in spite of
everything as she sat up to the big island breakfast bar on a tall stool. The
muffins were English muffin dough baked in metal canisters, shaped like old
coffee cans, and so named Coffee Can Muffins. Sliced thick along the baked-in
ridges and then topped with homemade jam, they were her favorite vacation
breakfast.

“Thanks, Gram,” she said before her
first bite. “I didn’t expect you to make special food for me.”

“Nonsense,” the old but, despite her
gray hair, young-looking woman said. “Eat up.”

Janie pulled up a stool at the bar
beside her daughter. “She’s got two chickens roasting in the oven, potatoes,
stuffing, biscuits ... the works.”

“Like Thanksgiving,” Evie whispered.

“No it’s not a holiday,” Evelyn said
over her shoulder. “It’s called a healthy meal; not that microwaved trash your
mother feeds you. It’s a wonder you’re as healthy as you are.”

Janie rolled her eyes at her daughter
and laughed. As she did, Evie began watching her mother more closely. While she
finished her first slice of muffin bread, no one else said much, and Evie took
the time to glance back and forth from one to the other.

Her grandfather was leaning quietly at the
corner of the island, his forearms resting on the bar top. His eyes were on her,
beaming. She could tell he wanted to speak, was waiting for his chance, yet he
was holding back for the moment. His eyes were the most colorful of the four.
From what Evie had seen in the mirror, her own ranked second, followed by the
ice-blues of her grandmother, who never wore earrings. Her mother’s eyes were the
dimmest of the group. They looked as Evie’s had the day before: green but not
unordinary. Her mother’s earrings were in place.

“So …” Evie said, reaching for another slice
of the bread.

“Are you ready for this?” her mother
asked.

Evie looked at her as she chewed and shrugged
her shoulders. Of course she didn’t feel ready. But the food really was
“fixing” her, her curiosity was growing, and the subject could not be sidestepped
forever.

“She’s ready,” her grandfather said low
and proudly. “Just look at her; she’s bounced back marvelously.”

Evie kept eating. It felt safer to chew and
listen rather than to speak. Her grandfather went on after a moment.

“As strange as it sounds, it’s all true.
That odd feeling you’re feeling right now … unusually alert, excited but
hesitant beyond normal. That’s it; that’s the wolf stirring in you.”

Evie shook her head slightly. She
understood now why her mother had laughed upstairs. The situation wasn’t scary
… it was absurd.

“I am sorry you had no warning,” her Papa
Joe said in his kindest tone. “Honest I am. We weren’t prepared for you to
experience the change at your age. Rightfully, this should be a day of
celebration, one you’d been anticipating for years and welcomed gladly.”

“Sure,” Evie said, ignoring both his
comments and his tone. “I just never would’ve thought wolves would like English
muffins so much.” She laughed a muffled laugh with her mouth full. “It’s kind
of funny if you think about it,” she mumbled.

Everyone was quiet. The sound of Evie’s
chewing seemed quite loud against the silence.

“I know this is a bit of a shock, Red,” her
Papa Joe said after a while. “I’m trying to—”

“Not at all,” she said over him. “I mean
… what else have you been waiting to tell me? Are we related to Bigfoot, too?”

“
Evie
,”
her mother scolded suddenly but not too harshly. “Respect your grandfather.”

“Let her be,” Joe defended. “We’ve left
her in the dark and heaped it all on her at once. I’d feel defensive too.”

“Sorry, Papa,” Evie said between bites.
“I’m not mad at you, I’m just … I don’t know
what
I am.”

“Exactly,” her mother said. “You’re
confused. And it’s my fault that you were in the dark. If you want someone to
blame, blame me. Your grandfather is only trying to help.”

Evie looked quickly at her mother. Before
she could ask
why
she was taking the
blame, her grandfather was speaking again.

“Let’s not get into this right now. There
are more pressing matters to cover first.”

“
Fine
,”
Evie huffed, giving him her full attention. “Let’s get to it. If I’m really a
werewolf, I wanna change into one
right
now
.”

The old man’s sharp eyes narrowed. “Do
you?”

“
Yes
.
Just tell me how it works and I’ll do it. I’ll howl at the moon all night, if
that’ll make you happy.”

Her grandfather laughed softly. “I’m
afraid now isn’t the best time, Red.”

“Of course not,” Evie scoffed, and took
a big bite of bread, chomping it angrily. To be frustrated with her grandfather
was a very rare occurrence; so rare that she had no idea how to handle it.

“No,” her grandfather said in a little
stronger tone. “Hear me out.”

Evie sat still in response to his firmer
tone; chewing, staring, waiting.

“As far as the
werewolf
term, let me clarify. We are humans possessing the ability
to change into wolves. Given the age you’ve grown up in, you’re probably
picturing the strange beasts of story. We are not them.”

“And the difference is?”

“All the difference in the world.”

“Oh thanks, Papa.
Really
. That tells me
nothing
.”

He laughed again. “You are yourself
again, aren’t you? That’s good. Very good. That means you’re ready to run.”

Evie kept quiet for the moment; she was
afraid to let more sarcasm slip. Her grandfather could take a joke, but he would
not tolerate outright disrespect. Her little outburst had pressed dangerously
close.

“In old times,” he went on calmly, “we
were known as spirit wolves. These days we tend to say shape-shifters or skin-changers.
Either way, we appear as the wolf on the mantel, not as the half-man, half-beast
creatures of films. We dislike the werewolf, lycanthrope terms because we are
neither curse nor bite victims, and we are controlled by the moon no more or
less than anyone or anything else. At the risk of sounding arrogant … we are
far superior to anything conjured up by men.”

Evie watched him for a moment. He had
been right: she did feel better now; she felt ready to fight. “Fine,” she said
in the boldest tone she dared use. “Show me, Papa. You want me to believe in
magic?
Prove
it
. Turn into a wolf and I’ll have no choice.”

“My how things change,” Joseph Ludlow
sighed. “Have you been taught no folklore, no mythology in your schooling?”

Evie shook her head without even the
hint of a smile.

“Is it your age?” he asked, “or
the
age that’s left no space within your
worldview for a little magic? Hmm?”

Evie said nothing.

“I see.” He nodded glumly. “You probably
trust the people that taught you to scoff at the idea more than your old Papa
Joe.”

“Papa …” Evie said seriously, almost
angrily.

Glancing around at the others, her
grandfather asked, “What exactly
are
they
teaching these kids?”

“Seeing is believing,” Janie said. “Just
do it, Daddy.”

“Is that all?” he asked, staring straight
into Evie’s eyes.

“I guess so,” she replied with a put-on poker
smile brightening her face. She had challenged him. Now he was challenging her
right back. And she absolutely
loved
it. “Prove it,” she said confidently.

“You’re sure?”

“Oh I’m
sure
.”

“Joe,” warned his wife.

He raised his eyebrows. “It’s quite a
shock, kiddo.”

“
I’m
sure
,” Evie repeated. Her eyes were
locked with his, and she was leaning toward him across the counter. “That’s why
I said it.”

The word “it” was still on Evie’s lips
when her eyes caught movements. The sound of her grandfather’s hand slapping
the counter drew her attention. As her eyes dropped to his hand, to where his
hand
should
have been, for only an
instant she saw a large, light-colored paw extending from the cuff of his
shirt. Then in the next blink the paw was rightfully a hand once more.

Evie looked up fast. Again, only for an
instant, her grandfather changed before her eyes. His face lightened. She saw
teeth. Huge teeth in a long jaw. She heard a loud clicking of those teeth as
the long jaws snapped together. There was a slight, deep growling sound. And then
just as quickly, the show was over; her grandfather was his smiling self again.

By then Evie had jumped back and off of her
bar stool, putting some distance between her and those teeth. Her face had
become all eyes and an open mouth, but she could form no words. Still leaning
on the counter staring back at her, her grandfather laughed low with
smoldering, inhuman eyes.

“Careful what you ask for,” Janie remarked,
and she took a bite of muffin bread as though nothing remotely frightening had
just taken place.

“Not in my house!” Evelyn put in
strongly. To drive home her point she dropped a big spoon loudly onto the
counter top.

“You …” Evie stammered, looking into her
grandfather’s eyes. “How did you—”

“Forget how for the time being,” he said
calmly, deeply. “What matters is that we’re on the same page. Are we now?”