Wolf Of The Future

Chapter 2

The day was warm, a muggy heat filling the darkened living room. Billy pulled back the curtain and coughed when a plume of dust went up in the air. “You know, since I let you live here rent free, you could at least clean up some.” He tied back the curtain and opened the window. Rays of sunlight reflected off the array of particles floating around him.

“I do clean,” Meg said defensively. Her legs were curled up under her on the couch, a magazine on her lap. How she could read without the light on, he had no idea. Personally, he couldn"t stand being in a dark room. He needed a least some light, bulb or sun, always. He even slept with a television on sometimes. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing worse than being in a dark, quiet room, with only your own thoughts for company. Billy sneezed and shot her a dark look, indicating the sneeze as proof of his point. “I do,” she insisted again. “It’s not my fault you left this place abandoned for so long.”

Billy felt his face fall. The house had once belonged to his parents and this was only his third visit home since their deaths, almost two years ago. He’d left Nicole to take care of everything for far too long. Honestly, if she hadn’t told him she planned to sell it, he probably wouldn’t be here now.

“Billy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Meg put down the magazine and turned to face him.

“It’s okay. You’re right, I let you both down.” Billy tousled Meg’s hair and pulled her to her feet for a hug. Although neither of the girls were his sisters by blood, he’d always been protective of them. Nicole was his sister in all but blood, and Meghan was her best friend. The three of them had grown up together. Now, Nicole was married and expecting a child, and Meghan was training to be a police officer. It made him feel old. All he had to show for his life was a failed teaching job and a lot of guilt. “Now,” he stepped back and handed her a rag, “get to work. Those bookshelves won’t dust themselves.”

“Fine, but only until Mark gets here. We’ll need to leave if we want to get to the festival in time for the fireworks.” Meg dutifully began cleaning the shelves, pulling books out one at a time to blow off the quarter inch of dust which had settled on them. After the second book, she started sneezing, too.

“You have fun.” Billy pulled out the broom and trashcan to collect all the globs of dust gathering on the floor.

“You aren’t going?” Meg stopped what she was doing and turned to stare at him.

Billy shrugged. The Independence Day festival was a big deal, but everyone in town would be there. “I don’t know. I’m not really in a partying mood right now.” He really didn’t feel like seeing the people he grew up around and having them ask how his life was, or worse, offer him condolences for his parents’ deaths.

“You have to go, no arguments. You haven’t been back here in year, and you aren’t missing your first festival. Don’t make me call Nicole,” she threatened when he didn’t instantly relent.

Billy took one look at her rigid stance, "no arguments" eyes and finger pointed right at his face and knew there was no use debating his plans. It would be far easier to go and leave the festival early, then Meg couldn"t say anything. “Alright, I give up. I’ll go. But I’m not eating any pie.”

“Hey,” she said, resuming her cleaning, “that"s between you and Nicole.”

The day was unusually cool for this time of year. Frequent rain storms were keeping the temperatures low and the ground moist. Wet pebbles littered the streets and sidewalks, making for treacherous walking conditions. A car drove past, tires loudly displacing the puddles as it went. At least it was perfect weather for fireworks, if the rain would hold off for a night.

Katie hobbled carefully to the store. Her new crutches were harder to use than she’d thought they would be. The nurses had made it look so easy when they demonstrated the proper techniques. But when your arms were sore and every time your foot brushed the ground, sharp pain radiated up through your leg, it wasn"t so easy. Pausing at the entrance, she shifted her weight and reached for the door. It opened suddenly, and a harassed-looking woman in a pinstriped shirt and jacket rushed past. Katie took a step back instinctively, forgetting the cast around her leg for a moment. The right crutch slipped out from under Katie’s arm, and she found herself falling. Expecting to take a hard hit on the sidewalk, she was surprised to find steadying hands at her back. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the face of her rescuer.

He’d saved her life once. Close to death, after a vicious attack by an evil, disturbed man, she would certainly have died if the stranger hadn’t interceded on her behalf. All he’d done was bring her presence to the attention of someone nearby, but it was enough. She’d received the medical help she needed to recover from her injuries.

Without comment, he leaned down and picked up the fallen crutch. “You should be more careful,” Durante said, refusing to smile or greet her in any way. He found his voice rough from lack of regular use.

Katie took the crutch and nodded her thanks. Reaching behind her, Durante opened the door so she could enter the store.

Slowly Katie made her way inside and fumbled with collecting a basket. Durante didn’t offer to help, and he knew she wouldn’t expect him to. Still, it irked him that no one else offered to assist her. Mortals really were useless and yet they claimed to be caring and filled with morality. Mara had often claimed, despite their poor words and actions, they were good people. Every day in this wretched world proved her wrong. Humans looked out for themselves, helping others only when it benefited their own purposes.

As they made their way through the store, Katie watched with amusement when he changed the fruit marquee to read thirty nine cents a pound, instead of ninety three cents. Whenever Katie stopped to get something, he changed labels on food and drink, switching caffeinated for de-caf and fat free with its fully fattening counterparts. He even switched organic eggs with regular eggs. She laughed to herself. It certainly explained some of her shopping trips over the years. Thinking back to similar labeling problems at other stores in the area, she wondered how far his mischievous pranks reached. Returning her attention to food, she grabbed microwave meals, pizzas, and a few other simple items she could make without a great deal of standing or movement. Not that she had much of an appetite these days, her stomach turned just looking at many of her favorite foods. The combination of pain meds and being in a constant state of discomfort took its toll, but she needed to eat to keep her strength up.

“What"s your name?” she asked, half afraid he would disappear without answering. Asking a personal question was risky, her instincts told her he was hesitant to share private information, but she was sick of referring to him as ‘him’ and ‘he’ in her head.

He didn"t look at her when he spoke. “Durante, or at least, that’s what I go by, now.”

“You"ve had other names?” If he was open to saying this much, maybe this topic wasn"t off limits.

“Only one.”

“Why?”

“I"m immortal,” he answered, not understanding her meaning.

“Right, I know that,” she said, “but if no one knows who you are, what does it matter what name you use?”

He stopped walking and pulled his eyebrows together in thought. “There is one person who would recognize my old name.” After another few seconds, he started walking again, and she let the topic drop.

“I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“You’re the only one who can.” He shrugged, switching price stickers on some discount movies.

“That intrigues you,” she guessed.

“For the moment,” he admitted. “When it ends, you will never see me again.”

Katie nodded. “For what it’s worth, I like talking to you.”

“Why?” He looked up at her, the price sticker still hanging from the tip of his finger. His confusion was obvious.

“You’re the only person I can be completely honest with. It’s kind of nice not to need to watch what I say. For instance, I can see how your illusion is more of a mental suggestion for people to forget they see you. Technically, they see you, but they don’t remember it a second later. I can also tell how you’ve extended this field to include me, so we can talk without anyone thinking I’m talking to myself. Thank you for that, by the way.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Up until now, she’d tried not to look at him too closely. He didn’t seem to like being seen by anyone, obviously unaccustomed to being observed in any way. She had noticed his appearance was smarter this time. The first time they’d met, his hair had been ragged, his face unshaven and his clothes a mess. Today, his hair was simply styled, brushed back from his face. His beard was neat, and his clothes appeared finely tailored. He still seemed wild and dangerous, raw power oozing from his pores. Strength was visible in every movement. It was clear he was a predator, but something was different about him, now. There was a spark of life which had been missing before.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me? You know what I am, what I can do. You see past my illusions. Why aren’t you afraid?” he demanded.

“You saved my life,” she said, as though that explained everything.

“I could just as easily kill you,” he said in all honesty, unconvinced by her answer.

She tilted her head to the side, considering her answer. “You could, but then you’d be bored again. As long as I’m interesting, I’m safe.”

His eyes pierced through her, reading her words, emotions, and expressions. She even felt his observation on many levels beyond those. He searched for the truth and was surprised by what he found. A small grin curved the corners of his lips. “You are a very strange individual.”

“I know.” She paid for her few groceries – even though it occurred to her that she could probably walk out without anyone noticing – and they walked back to her apartment in silence. Shifting the bags to her arm, she positioned the crutches to try and maneuver her way up the steps to the door.

“You know, given your current situation, steps may not be the best choice.”

“You have a point, but alas, there is no ramp. So, steps it is.”

Footsteps approached from behind and her neighbor, a middle-aged man with a healthy dose of gray hair and a pot belly, took her arm. Before today, they’d never exchanged more than an occasional greeting in passing. She noticed a dim shadow hovered over his aura, darkest near his head and his eyes were slightly glazed when he offered to help. Katie looked back and saw the shadow trail off. Durante was nowhere to be seen and the shadow faded away. With the influence gone, the man seemed slightly disoriented, but to his credit, he continued to help her up the stairs. Once she was safely up, he went inside, leaving her to her own devices. “Thank you,” she mouthed to the empty street.

“For what?” Durante leaned against the building, his arms crossed. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Of course not.” She played along. “My mistake.”

“It looks like the festivities tonight may be rained out,” he commented as a rumble of thunder echoed off in the distance.

“Are you seriously talking about the weather?” she asked incredulously. “Or were you planning on attending?”

“Isn"t that what you humans like to talk about, weather and sports?” He followed her into the building, grabbing an apple she’d dropped before it could hit the floor, taking a bite from it before he handed it back to her. “If so, I"m afraid, weather is all I can contribute. I haven"t watched a sporting event since the Cubs beat the Phillies in 1922.”

“So, you don"t work, don"t have friends and don"t watch sports. What exactly is it you do with all your free time?” She unlocked the door to her apartment and went to put the groceries away.

“Revenge,” he answered, dropping on to her couch and draping his arms over the back.

“And that"s a twenty-four hour a day gig?” Katie propped her crutches up by the refrigerator and began to shuffle the drink bottles and leftover food dishes to make room for the new items. She gave a few of the older leftover containers a dubious look before shrugging, and putting them back where they came from.

“Not if you"re good at it. That would be why I"m bored. So, what are you waiting for? Entertain me.”

She laughed and closed the refrigerator; grabbing the crutches, she maneuvered into the front room and took a seat. “I"m afraid I"m all entertained out. I"d suggest we play a game, but my sister got all our board games when she went to college, and the only thing I know how to play with cards is solitaire. All in all, I"m probably not much better at entertaining than you are. But if you"d like to go to the festival, I could entertain you with my bad attempts at playing carnival games,” she offered.

He lifted an eyebrow skeptically. “That bad?”

“I"m horrible,” she confirmed. “Haven"t won a game in over ten years.”

“Really?” He grinned mischievously. “How would you like to change that?”

Mara sighed, leaning her forearms against the counter. Glancing at the clock, she grew even more frustrated. It was still thirty minutes until closing time, but she wanted to get out of here now. She didn"t feel like being around anyone. She wanted to return to the privacy of her apartment upstairs and have some time alone before Nicole showed up to meditate. With the festival tonight, excitement was high and emotions were higher and Mara found it exhausting to be around so many active minds. The store belonged to her, so she could always close early, lock up the store and go, if it weren’t for those two little girls and their parents. Already, they’d been shopping for close to an hour, they’d been studying the same two dresses, one for each girl. No one could seem to make the final decision of whether they really wanted them. One girl grabbed her gown and headed toward the counter, only to pick up an entirely new one from another rack along the way. Mara exhaled loudly, secretly hoping they would hear her and take the hint. They didn’t. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. Concentrating on the father’s mind, she placed a mental suggestion that they should sleep on it and come back tomorrow. She smiled to herself when he echoed her suggestion and led everyone out of the store. Waiting until they were just out of sight, she grabbed her keys and headed for the door. She felt a little bad about manipulating his mind, but it had only been a small suggestion. It wasn’t as though it hurt anyone.

Mara opened the door to her apartment upstairs and set her purse down on the end table. Pausing mid-step, she stared at her wooden hair comb, sitting on the corner desk. Her blood chilled. She didn’t leave it out – at least, she didn’t remember leaving it out. She wrapped her fingers around the smooth comb retracing her steps this morning in her mind. Could she have been that forgetful? Picking up the comb she placed it back in the keepsake box in her bedroom closet, making a point to avoid looking at the other items. No sense stirring up those old memories right now. Still, she was upset by the fact that the comb had been out – she needed to get to the bottom of this.

Working to bring a sense of calm to her troubled mind, Mara began to meditate. Time lost all meaning while she concentrated on her breathing, but the visions wouldn’t come. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to rekindle her connection to the divine. She went through all the motions, lighting the correct candles, burning the right herbs, but nothing worked. Mara wondered again if the visions had ever been real. Of course, she knew they were, but after a time, it was easy to fall into doubt. Before she could think on it further, Mara noticed knocking. Still disoriented, she opened the door to reveal Nicole standing outside. Mara glanced down at the wolf pendent hanging around her neck, nodding absentmindedly at whatever Nicole said. She found herself on autopilot, directing Nicole to come in and begin her meditations. Mara instructed her in a few new exercises, not paying much attention to her progress and sipped on some warm tea.

“Could you help me with this one? I don’t seem to be getting it.” Nicole’s gentle question broke through Mara’s scrambled thoughts.

“What"s the problem?” she asked, not the least bit interested in whether Nicole was "getting it" or not. Why should she care if Nicole could achieve meditative peace and master techniques and abilities it took Mara centuries to learn on her own? She should be grateful Mara even tried to explain anything.

“You said to picture the staircase circling down to my secret place, but where does the staircase go once I"m there? Does it disappear? Does it fade into clouds? Is there a door at the top, or a wall? I get to the bottom and then I keep trying to figure out what happened to the stairs, and I fall right back out again.

“It"s your meditation,” Mara snapped. “If the stairs are giving you that much of a problem, try something else. Put them in a tree, with the last step bringing you out of the tree, or a tunnel coming out of the water. Whatever you want. This is your world. You create whatever you want to see to make a comfortable place to develop your skills.” Chugging the rest of the tea, Mara put the glass down a little too forcefully and walked determinedly into the kitchenette, hiding herself slightly behind the column by the open door arch.

She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning against the wall. What was wrong with her? She needed to apologize. Nicole"s problems were common with people new to meditation, there was no reason to blow up the way she did. She opened her eyes and pushed away from the wall, only to stop moving the second Nicole"s mind reached out to hers. Mara recoiled from the touch, slamming down her barriers and pushing Nicole back. She could still feel the mental touch, probing, searching Mara"s mind. She wrapped her arms around herself, coming back into the living room. Nicole looked away uncomfortably, offset by the ferocity of Mara"s defenses.

“Mara, I"m sorry. I didn"t mean to pry. It"s just, I was worried about you.”

“I"m fine.” Mara waved her off, her eyes half-lidded as she avoided even looking in Nicole’s direction. “Maybe we should call it a night. It"s been a long day.”

“Okay,” Nicole stood and grabbed her purse, holding it to her chest uncertainly. “By the way, Meg wanted me to ask you again if you would work with her on understanding her visions. She still can"t control them, and she could really use your help.

“There’s no need,” Mara answered flippantly. “You or Mark can teach her everything she needs to know. Besides, teaching her is good practice for you.”

“But I don"t know anything about visions,” Nicole argued.

“Neither did I when I started having them. Teach her the basic meditation techniques I"ve shown you. She can figure out the rest on her own.

Nicole lowered her head, her teeth worrying at the edge of her bottom lip. “Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. “If you change your mind though, she could really use your help.” Nicole walked over to the door and rested her hand on the doorknob. “You know,” she said without turning back, “you always tell me to trust my instincts, but you can make that a really hard thing to do.” Without waiting for a response, Nicole left the apartment, closing the door quietly behind her.

Mara groaned and sank onto the couch, resting her face in her hands. What was wrong with her? The girl had meant no harm, yet she couldn"t bring herself to apologize. She wanted to be left alone. She wanted solitude and quiet. Taking a deep breath, she strengthened her walls, trying desperately to block out any hint of the ocean of thoughts floating all around her. Behaving like a massive receiver, Mara had a way of picking up stray thoughts and impressions from people and it took constant vigilance to keep them out. Opening her eyes and sitting upright, she surveyed the small room and suddenly felt claustrophobic. In a flash she shifted, finding herself in the forest at the edge of town.

Mara started walking, contemplating her dark mood. Summer was never a good time for her, leading into the anniversary of when she’d made her bargain. But there was something different about this mood, it was stronger somehow. She glanced around anxiously, realizing she was filled by a heavy sense of foreboding. Something was about to happen, but she couldn’t determine what it might be. If only her visions hadn’t abandoned her! But there was no use worrying over something she had no control over – she would just need to figure this out without the visions.

She ran over the numerous questions and scenarios which kept tossing endlessly through her mind, always coming back to one place – the dark one she couldn’t identify. No one had come to her in over a month with concerns regarding the dark power who had influenced both Meg and Mark. He’d twisted their minds, making them act without restraints or inhibitions. Meg had almost killed Nicole in a consequence of the manipulation. She’d been intent on stopping a murderer, not paying attention to what she was doing and had accidentally impaled Nicole. In another equally worrying event, Mark had been completely consumed by an uncontrollable, completely unnatural blinding rage, and tried to kill Artemis.

But they’d both managed to fight against the manipulation and whoever had been responsible hadn’t bothered them since. This fact alone worried Mara. While he was active, she could try to figure out what he was up to. Whoever he might be, he was exceptionally powerful. Unfortunately, she’d been unable to discern anything with her psychic probes, because he blocked her efforts at every turn. It was as though he knew what she was going to do, before she actually did it. In fact, there was something incredibly familiar about him. Mara found that familiarity was almost as disturbing as the things he chose to do. She wished she could figure this out. It was affecting her ability to sleep, and now she was snapping at people. She needed to do something… if only she knew what the something was.

Mara came to the edge of the tree line and gazed out over the edge of the drop off. Down below, she could see the town festival getting into full swing. Deliberately, she retreated to the nearest tree and took a seat on the grass. The festival grounds were still visible, but she could rest her head back and look up at the storm clouds gathering, try to ignore all the thoughts of the people below. Random pops from firecrackers and the sound of small carnival rides drowned out most of the voices, but she should still sense them pressing in on her. She closed her eyes and used the noise as a cocoon to insulate herself from her own troubled thoughts.