The Wolf's Song

A Cunning Detective

Diana

I wouldn’t say everything is returning to normal, but my relationship with Michael wasn’t destroyed by my rash decision. Riding on his wolf back through the forest cured all ailments though and I felt renewed.

I am still reeling from the effects of seeing him. Pure black beauty, strength in every step, power behind each leap--it is beyond anything I could ever dream of.

Of course, I couldn’t very well tell that to Maya, who has asked me how things are going with Michael.

I have checked in on my aunt and per usual I stop to talk with her before heading back to Michael. I can feel eyes on me and shame washes over me as Andrew watches me like a hawk. Michael has since replaced the window, but it can’t erase the guilt on his face.

I try to explain that it was all my doing, but neither of them will see reason. At least he didn’t imprison me in the house and plus, he agreed to help me figure out this gift my father bestowed upon me. There are still no leads as to where he is.

I follow Maya around the library as she returns books to their proper homes.

“We are doing good. He’s opening up more and trying. Still overprotective as you can see, but I’m starting to understand,” I explain without telling her about my run in with Damien, well less of a run in, more like a drop in.

“I would hope you’d understand seeing as that thing was clearly after you. You never explained why you weren’t moving, and don’t give me that line about my legs weren’t working,” she tosses back at me just as that phrase starts from my lips.

I rack my brain for another excuse--so much has happened since that day, it almost feels like it happened years ago, as my memory of it is hazy.

“I don’t know. Frozen by fear I guess,” I say, unable to bring up those feelings again.

“I get it, sort of. I think my flight-or-fight kicked in too well, I was out so fast then remembered there was someone I actually cared about still out there,” Maya smiles at me.

I smile back, more grateful to her than she’ll ever know.

“Any way, oh, I know what I’ve been meaning to tell you,”She cuts herself off.

She replaces the books in her hands and ducks around the shelves to make sure we are alone before dragging me to a table furthest from the door. She grabs my hands and stares deep into me.

“First, I’m super glad you and Michael seem to be making progress. I remember when you needed tequila and rum to figure out if there was even a ‘you and Michael,’ but I would be a bad friend if I didn’t tell you to be careful with this love of yours. If I didn’t see it for myself, I might not believe it either,” she says.

My heart races, wondering what she could be talking about. There is no way she knows that he’s a shifter; he has been way too careful to give himself away so easily. If I didn’t become suspicious of him, I might not know yet. Instead of giving myself away, I pretend ignorance.

“What are you talking about? See what?” I ask.

“You remember Lorenzo?” she asks, and I nod, my last memory of him is unpleasant and traumatic. “Well, lately his brother has been coming here doing research about that attack, as well as many others. I showed him the same clippings you had but he began to see a pattern. Well, less a pattern, but more a modern-day hero. Michael Beck,” she says.

I pull my hands back, not wanting her to feel the sweat brewing on them. I didn’t recall seeing his name, but then again, I was more interested in the details of the attacks, the marks left on the bodies, and how some bodies weren’t ever found again.

“Well, what did it say about him? He is very involved in town activities and often helps where he can,” I defend, hoping to give him a Bruce Wayne kind of feel.

She shrugs and sits back in her chair, too relaxed for someone accusing a friend’s boyfriend of I don’t even know what.

“That’s what I said. Michael has always been a staple here, a nice kind of guy. Though rich guys who care do appear suspicious sometimes. I think he just want someone to blame but he does have some good evidence,” she says.

“Like?” I inquire.

She licks her lips and debates whether she wants to continue, little does she know she has no choice in the matter. Wow, that sounded and felt like Michael.

“Well, the night you were attacked, a man called in to the police. That man was Robert, an associate of Michael’s. Then they were spotted trying to interview the man who attacked you at the festival, and countless other appearances that businessmen shouldn’t be a part of. Michael is never mentioned, but if you know one person who works for him, then you know them all. Even had someone named Laura come to the station and she would leave with files under her arm. I’m sure it’s harmless, but it looks damning,” she finishes and unfortunately, I see her point.

In order to help, he needs to stay in the loop, but just having the chief of police in his pocket doesn’t stop the gossip from spreading.

“Oh hun, you’re mad at me? I’m just worried about you. This boy is out for blood when it comes to solving what happened to Lorenzo, I just wanted to give you a heads up,” she says after my long hesitation.

I try to make my smile as honest as possible, but I’m sure worry wrinkles my brow still.”No, I appreciate it. He does do a lot and to anyone looking for someone to blame, why not a rich busy body like him? I think I might have to go through; he’d want to know about this. Maybe he can reach out to Christopher and his brother, offer them some more details that night. But thank you, Maya, I’m glad to have a friend like you,” I say, leaning in to hug her.

She squeezes tight and rubs my back tenderly. “Thank Michael for me as well. He didn’t have to pay my rent for the next two years or upgrade my car. Knowing you are alive and safe is all the reward I need,” she says, pulling back.

My confusion is accurate as I had no idea Michael even did that. I tell her I’ll pass her message on, then I leave and find Andrew. A part of me wants to head toward the brother’s house, but I think better of that. I did promise I would keep myself out of danger as best I could. Grief, as Damien perfectly paints, is unpredictable and who knows where their mind is at right now. Andrew opens the door for me, and my guilt is renewed.

“Where to?” he asks me as he gets behind the wheel.

“Andrew, thank you for not hating me. I know I’ve put you in a bad position with Michael, but I swear I’ve been pleading your case every time I have to leave, I always request you. I hope it’s not bothersome, just trying to give you ample opportunities to win back the favor I caused you to lose,” I add.

As with most of Michael’s associates, besides Clarissa, he wasn’t much of a talker, but I could tell he felt uneasy around me after giving me that scolding a few weeks ago. It was well earned by me, but our already tense relationship has suffered more from it.

“It’ll take time, but I’ll do my best,” he says, and I believe him as he finally catches my eyes and smirks.

I smile at him, one step closer to mending what my mindless fanciful ideas created.”Good. Thank you. Getting a bit hungry. Want to grab something to eat, before heading back?” I ask.

He turns the car over and starts driving. If I am going to convince Michael I belong by his side I am going to do whatever it takes to prove to him that I can fit in with him and his world. I can feel it throughout my whole body that this place is where I belong.