Soul of the Wolves

Oh my! The eggs were delicious. This was better than her cooking and she prided herself as a pretty good cook. She motioned that the food was da bomb. Ethan kept watching her eat with a cryptic smile on his face the whole time.

She ended up finished the whole thing because he insisted. She was ready for a nap from being stuffed. They moved to the kitchen. Ethan made them coffee while she washed the dishes. After that, they sat by the table, enjoying the coffee. Ethan wasn’t a breakfast kind of guy. Coffee was enough to sustain him until lunch, and often, dinner.

Halfway through her cup, Sookie told him her plight. She owed him that. She wanted to clear the air between them. Surely, Ethan was waiting for her explanation as well.

“It started because my little brother, Jesse, did something really stupid,” she began her tale. She told him about her family and the accident that tore their family apart, her struggle to stay afloat, and her parenting skills being tested by Jesse’s mischievous antics and his teenage rebellion. Then it culminated with that graveyard recovery mission, Jesse being turned into a werewolf, and her being forced to work for Cain.

Ethan listened attentively and didn’t interrupt at all while she lay everything bare. But he held her hands when she recounted the darkest days while she was held prisoner by Cain. The verbal abuse. The physical abuse. The mental torture for her to see Jesse dehumanized in a filthy cell.

The grip on her hands tightened when she finished her tale. She was proud of herself that she could recount without shedding a tear. She didn’t want him to see her cry. She didn’t want him to see she was weak. Ethan’s face was murky dark, his eyes murderous. For a second she had an urge to flee from him. But she knew his anger wasn’t directed at her. He was angry at his cousin.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, finally. “I’m sorry for what he has done to you and your brother. I’ll make sure that he repays everything. And more.”

“I just want Jesse back safe and sound.”

“We’ll do that also.”

“Thank you, Ethan.” Sookie exhaled a deep breath. Now her chest became even lighter. “I have some questions about this Alpha Strain…”

“Hmm?”

Their conversation was interrupted by a phone call. Ethan gestured for her to wait a minute and went to answer it.

“Who’s that?” asked Sookie curiously when he finished talking.

“Business.” He pocketed his phone. “I’m afraid we must leave now.”

“Leave where?”

“We’re going hunting, baby.”

Ethan changed his clothes and dressed in all black. Sookie rummaged through his wardrobe earlier; the guy didn’t own anything other than black, well, except his underthings. He unpacked the duffel bag that he carried from Lunar Manor. It held guns and a killing arsenal that could obliterate a small army.

“Can you shoot with a semi-automatic?” Ethan asked.

What? Sookie shook her head, bewildered. “I’ve never held a gun in my life.”

“Maybe a revolver then,” Ethan muttered to himself. He took another piece and filled the chamber with bullets before handing it to her. “Take this. You might need it.”

“I don’t know how to shoot.”

“It’s easy. Just aim and pull the trigger.”

“I-I don’t think this is a good idea. What if I miss and hurt a bystander?”

Ethan was quick to grin. “Then try not to.”

Sookie cringed. She accepted the revolver with a trembling hand. She prayed that she wouldn’t have to use the gun in any way. She stowed the piece in her sweater pocket that she borrowed from Ethan. She followed Ethan to the garage. Ethan flicked the light on. Inside, half a dozen motorcycles were parked neatly.

“We’re going to ride these things?” she asked, more bewilderment tingeing her voice. “I thought we were going to go in the car that we left in the forest preserve parking lot.”

Ethan chose a badass-looking black Kawasaki and mounted it. “Bikes are much faster.” He gave her a helmet after he donned one himself. The helmet was the kind racers used, the sides completely covered and with a dark-tinged face shield. Ethan helped her adjust the helmet. Suddenly, she could hear Ethan’s voice above her cheekpad. It appeared the helmet was equipped with headphone and microphone so the riders could communicate to one another while on the road.

“Ready?” Ethan asked.

“Define ‘ready.’ I’ll never be ready. There’s a gun in my pocket and I’m afraid—”

“You’ll be fine. I can’t afford to leave you out of my sight right now. You must go with me at all times.”