Shadows Lurking

October 22nd, 2005 – Saturday, 7:48am

The clock on the opposite wall ticks loudly as the seconds go by, filled with silence. Professor Dawes crosses one leg over the other and shifts her folder to the other hand. She taps the folder with a pen now as it rests on her knee. The look of annoyance on her face is unsettling. She’s been staring at me for the last ten minutes and I’m not sure what I should do to make it stop.

Finally, she sighs, breaking the silence. “Rylan, this our eleventh session and you’ve yet to open up about anything. Even something as small as talking about your day would be enough at this point.”

Her frustration is visible, but I don’t budge. I never cared for stuff like this before, and it’s not going to change just because I’ve made a friend or two.

Her eyes narrow. “May I remind you, Mister Evans, that without learning how your psyche has been affected by the suppression of shifting over the last four years, you won’t be permitted to live with Nicholas.”

“And what makes you think that I want to live with him?” I snap at her. “What- You think that because I’m friends with his son that I’ll suddenly want to be all buddy-buddy with him too? Not happening.”

Dawes’ eyes grow wide now, and she begins jotting something down onto her notepad. “Interesting. So, you would say that you and Mattheo have grown close with one another. Would you happen to consider the other two boy’s friends as well?”

Glancing between her prying eyes and the notepad, I now realize I just opened up to her. Great. I guess it’s too late to deny anything. What would really be the harm in talking to her though? I don’t have anyone to talk to about anything that’s been bothering me.

“Everything we talk about in here stays between us, right? Like, I don’t know, patient/doctor confidentiality.”

Professor Dawes has a warm smile now. “Of course, Rylan. You can say anything in this room, and it is safe here.”

“You won’t tell anyone- even Nicholas?” I need to make sure I can trust her.

She leans forward now. “Not a soul.” Now, she’s leaning back with her pen at the ready. “Whenever you would like to start.”

My palms are slick with sweat, and the back of my neck matches. “Well, I, uh- I, um feel nervous all the time.”

“What causes you to feel this way- Anything in particular?”

I nod. “Y-Yeah. I feel like I’ll wake up any minute and be back in that- back in that house with N-Noah.”

“I see,” she hums. “What specifically worries you about being back there?”

“His temper,” I whisper.

Her pen stops moving. The room is silent once more. “Rylan, you know that he can no longer hurt you, right? He’s gone, and he’s never coming back. I promise that you are safe.”

“I- I know that. It’s just the thought that none of this is real and I’m just laid out in the house somewhere, and that as soon as I wake up, he’s going to be right there waiting for me.”

“I understand.” My hands tighten on the arms of the chair, and Dawes takes notice. “Rylan, I don’t mean that I understand your situation, because I could never even imagine what you must have gone through. I only mean that I understand why you would feel this way. It’s understandable to be scare- worried. Anyone in your position would be nervous that reality is nothing more than a trick of the mind.”

Her words ease me. There had been so many guidance counselors, nurses, and teachers that would attempt to sympathize with my situation. None of them knew a thing about what I was going through, about the nightmare I had been forced to live, yet they acted as though they understood every bit of it. They didn’t even know what the situation was. I was only another child they needed to slap a band-aid on and send back home.

Releasing the death grip on the arms of the chair, I take a steadying breath. If opening up to her will help keep her off my back a bit more, then I’m willing to do it.

“H-He would-” My throat tightens, and my breath gets caught in it, but I push past it. “When it was midnight, on my b-birthday’s, h-he would chain me to the- to the chair. There was a wall last year. That was the worst year.” My hands tremble with each word. “H-He didn’t care if it hurt or if it was too much. My wrists and- and my ankles never really healed. None of the stuff he did to me ever healed.”

Professor Dawes clears her throat, causing me to look at her. Her eyes are damp and rimmed at the bottom with red. “If he used a silver alloy then they would leave scarring after the wounds healed. Our skin is highly sensitive to the metal.”

“Explains a bit,” I grumble. My right hand wraps around my left wrist. Mattheo’s sweaters have been great for hiding the hideous markings, but the knowing that they’re there doesn’t go away. “You asked before about what he made me drink. What was it?”

Dawes closes her folder. “Aconite. Our bodies are weakened by it. Should we ingest too much, it has even been known to kill us. Aconite poisoning was commonly used as a form of torture tactic back in the war, but no one has used such methods since then. It was banished and forbidden to be practiced.”

“Did Noah fight in this war?” I ask her.

Her eyes close briefly, as if she’s gaining her composure, before nodding. “He did. He and his pack fought alongside my pack.”

Heat spreads through my chest and upper arms. “You were friends with him?”

“Friend is a strong word when using Noah Evans as a subject,” Dawes quickly says. “Noah trusted no one after the war. He became paranoid that the council was working to eliminate his pack mates one by one, but it was never proven. When you’re in the middle of a battlefield and watching your best friends being slaughtered, it messes with your mind. He had been through more than any of us should have. Losing your entire pack can warp someone’s mind in the worst ways.”

“And that should gain my sympathy, huh?” I stand from my seat now. “Hearing that should make me feel sorry for him and forgive everything he put me through?”

“No, Rylan.” Professor Dawes stands as well. Her hands tremble as she fights to keep them at her side. “What Noah had done to you- There is no excuse for his barbaric behavior. Noah’s mind was warped and twisted long before the war. I had only meant that the war was something that might’ve been his push over the edge.” Her eyes soften. “No one here would ever attempt to justify what he put you through.”

I settle back down into the chair, and she follows. There’s an unsettling ache in my chest as the clock continues to tick tock tick in the background. How much do they know about what Noah had done? How would they even know about any of it? I’ve never told anyone a thing.

“It’s whatever.” I shrug my shoulders, attempting to release some of the weight there. “He’s dead anyways.”

“He is.” Dawes nods. “And that is also something we need to discuss.”

“What about it?”

“Your part in his death.”

She says that as if it’s not a big deal I was capable of murdering him. Her eyes are focused on me and me alone. She doesn’t look away to check the time, just clicks her pen a few times.

“I killed him,” I finally say. “What more do you want?”

She sighs now. “You may have killed him, Rylan, but you don’t remember doing so, correct?” I nod. “I see. There are some pieces we have been attempting to put together for a while now. One of which is why he would keep you from shifting all these years in the first place.”

“I have no idea.”

“He never mentioned lycanthropy before?”

I shake my head. “No, he didn’t. Not even when he was drunk, and that was a lot of the time.”

“I see.” Professor Dawes places her folder and pen on the small table next to her chair. “As far as we’re aware, there has never been a Lycan that has been kept from shifting for their very first shift. You are the first to ever be recorded. This is why therapy is required.” She purses her lips now as she leans forward, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Perhaps with further training we’ll be able to determine if the suppression has affected your wolf as well.”

“I’ve been trying to shift,” I admit. “It’s just not working.”

“As of right now it isn’t, but with training and concentration, you’ll get it,” she assures me. The clock ticks over to eight-thirty and Dawes sighs. “It seems our session has come to an end. Please feel free to stop by any time with any questions or concerns.”

My hand grips the door handle but doesn’t turn it. A part of me wants to ask about the murder that happened, but another part rejects the idea. If I am the one who did it, even in my sleep, I’m sure Goodey would actually have to arrest me. His words though, about how kind my mother was, echo in my ears. My mother fought with everything in her to protect the people in town, and if I’m killing them, then I’m disgracing her memory.

“Professor?” Slowly, I turn to face Dawes. “About the murder in town-”

“What about it?” Her face may appear innocently unaware, but her eyes give it all away. She knows exactly what I’m implying.

“Was it me?” I ask. “Did I kill that man?”

“Why would you think it’s you?”

I don’t need questions answering my questions. I just want the truth. “Just tell me.”

“No, Rylan.” She stands and places a soft pat on my shoulder. “You hurt no one, dear.”

Relief floods through me, but it’s chased away by the burning sensation on my shoulder. Her hand is like a weighted blanket, comfortable but smothering. Shrugging her hand off, I leave the room. Outside, in the hallway, I feel as though I can finally breathe.

Another deep breath and the scent of vanilla and honey fills my lungs. Faye must be nearby. Knowing now that the scent is hers helps when needing to avoid her. As much as I know avoiding her is the best option right now, I can’t help but follow the trail. It ends just outside of the library.

Faye’s hair is up in a ponytail today, but there’s still a simple strand of braid tied back with it, the blue beads still present. She’s a bit obsessed with braiding and beading her hair. A pink shirt with paw prints on it and a pleated yellow skirt are slightly covered in dirt, as if she had been rolling around outside just moments before. She does seem to smell like freshly cut grass and dew drops.

Silver eyes meet mine and brighten. “Rylan!” She waves me over. “Come here!”

Once I’m closer, she grips my arm while smiling brightly. “You’ll never believe what I found just now! Guess, guess!”

“Uh-”

“A new recipe for enhanced swift brew!” She squeals now. “I just know that I’m going to be super-fast now. No- super, super fast!”

Her grip is tight and it’s beginning to cause indentions in my skin, but she looks a bit too happy right now for me to ruin her day. Ignoring the burning in my arm, I listen as she continues gushing over the brew recipe. We just finished up our swift brews segment in class, and she had been bummed that we only got to make one each. Mine is still sitting on my nightstand. It might make a nice gift for her.

My blood runs cold. A gift for her? For Faye Finley- Fletcher’s sister. Something must be off with me thanks to that session with Professor Dawes because I’m letting way too much slide. She’s still holding my arm, I’m letting her ramble on about something I could care less about, and I’m thinking of gift ideas for her. Have I been letting her get away with things like this lately, or has it just been today?

She squeezes again and, this time, I can’t help but wince. A small stream of blood trails down my arm and Faye immediately releases her grip. Her eyes widen as she takes in the dripping blood.

“Oh my gosh!” She holds my hand and extends my arm to examine it. “I am so sorry!”

Her hands push my sleeves up and I try to stop her, but she’s too fast. The blood becomes smeared on my arm as my pale and scarred skin is exposed. Now, ignoring the blood, her eyes are locked on the deep, healed over gashes on my wrist. Along the arm, small silver cuts travel upwards and around. They almost litter my body.

Faye seems to have lost all color in her face. “W-What happened to your wrist?”

“None of your business,” I snap, yanking my arm back from her. “Just back off.”

I turn away from her and walk the opposite direction, knowing that the minute I see that wobbling lip, I’ll cave and apologize for hurting her feelings again. I can’t though. I’ve been letting her get away with way too much and letting her get closer than I’ve let anyone other than the boys. Whatever friendship we had blossoming needs to be gone, destroyed, so that I don’t hurt more than her feelings.

October 31st, 2005 – Monday, 6:35pm

“I think it’s just a bit cheesy to give her chocolates, that’s all I’m saying,” Mattheo says from his bed.

James continues examining the piece of candy he had been snacking on for the last ten minutes. He sighs as he places it in its wrapper, which is sitting on my made bed. “I can’t think of anything else to get her.”

“Why do you even need to get her anything?” I ask him.

Mattheo laughs from his bed. “Because it’s James and Porter’s third year anniversary being friends. Ain’t that right, James?”

The blonde rolls his eyes while laying out across my bed the wrong way. “It’s not funny, Matt! I know nothing to get her!”

“Amaya likes books, Green Day, and she absolutely hates chocolate so I would rethink that gift idea,” I admit to him.

James, Mattheo, and Corey all three look at me as if I’ve lost my mind. I shrug my shoulders. “What? We spend a lot of time together in the library.” James begins glaring at me. “With Minnie there too!”

He finally looks away from me while pouting. “This is crap.”

“No.” Mattheo walks over and smacks his chest. “What’s crap is that you two have been friends for three years now, but you still barely know anything about her.”

James growls before flipping over onto his stomach. “I know the important things. Like the fact that she wants to be a professor here once she graduates, her favorite color is purple because it reminds her of wolfsbane- She absolutely hates referring to it is as wolfsbane though, preferring aconite- and I never see her without those pigtails with the brown rubber bands. I’ve never seen her without a book in her hands either. Isn’t she just the smartest person you’ve ever met?”

Corey sighs from his own bed while placing his comic on his lap. “James, buddy, I think it’s time we got real for a second.”

“Corey…” Mattheo gives him a warning glare.

The young boy ignores it while crawling to the edge of his bed and staring only at James. “Amaya is a red fur. You are a grey. It would never work out the way you think it would.”

James’ shoulders drop instantly and he’s flipping back over to stare at the ceiling. There’s a certain droop in his appearance now at hearing Corey’s words.

“I’m guessing a red fur for girls is the equivalent to black furs with us guys?” I toss out.

“Yeah,” James slowly breathes out. “Red furs and black furs are intended pairs. To better the outcome of future leaders for the pack’s sake.”

Mattheo groans while throwing a Corey another glare. “Okay, okay. This is true, but there have been cases where a grey and a red have paired and a black and a brown have paired. It’s not like it’s a law or anything, James.”

“Yet,” the blonde growls out. “I’m sure they’ll push for it by the time I can finally be with her.”

Corey stands and tosses one of his pillows at James. “Come on, guys. Isn’t this supposed to be a birthday party?”

Mattheo stands on his bed and flashes his teeth in a cheesy grin. “It sure is!”

“Must be nice to be born on Halloween,” James canters. “All the candy you could possibly eat.”

Mattheo laughs. “Yeah, right. Dad never let me eat too much of it, even if it was my birthday.”

“How does fourteen feel?” Corey asks.

“It feels about like how you’d expect it to feel.” He stands and stretches his muscles out. “The exact same as thirteen.”

Corey and Mattheo begin slapping one another with pillows while bouncing from bed to bed. James continues laying on my duvet while mumbling different gift ideas for Amaya. I don’t see the point in worrying over a gift choice for some girl. As much as I like Amaya, she is still just a girl.

My eyes linger on the bottle of swift brew that I had considered giving to Faye as a gift. Maybe my own thoughts are clouded with uncertainty because of that day in front of the library. I had wanted to see Faye smile while receiving the potion from me. In the end, no matter what my thought process had been, she’s still just some girl. No- She’s the sister of Fletcher Finley.

The door to our room slams open. Corey and Mattheo stopped bouncing around and have quieted down. Percy stands in the doorway with another guy beside him. The guy looks familiar, as if I’ve seen him around with Percy before.

“Percy! John!” James exclaims. “What’s up?”

John steps forward, his dark hair nearly shaved to the scalp and his brown eyes locking on my unmoving form. He has this air of authority about him much like the grown-ups do, and I’m not entirely sure that I’m fond of it.

“Phineas Finley seems to be starting some trouble within the council. Trouble over you, Rylan.” John makes no move to come towards me but waits by the door with Percy.

“What?” Corey sounds exasperated.

Mattheo stands to his feet. “What do you mean?”

John only continues to stare at me. I can tell now that whatever Phineas has been saying, it can’t be good. Phineas will make it his life’s mission to make my life a living hell in any way he can, especially after nearly murdering his child.

Percy and John make their way to James’ bed and sit next to one another. Percy sighs as he explains, “Phineas had told the council his concerns regarding Rylan’s ability to shift.”

“He perceives Rylan to be an invalid,” John says.

“That’s stupid!” James shouts. “Rylan is obviously a Lycan. He has super senses!”

“We know that-” Percy makes a calming motion towards James. “-but the council doesn’t.”

“So, we prove it to them then,” Mattheo grunts. “Show them that Rylan is still a Lycan, even if he can’t shift.”

“You can’t shift then?” John asks me directly.

“I can, but it’s only when I’m angry,” I admit. “And I can’t remember anything during the shift.”

“Blinded rage shifting,” Percy mutters. “No wonder Kerum was adamant on not forcing you to shift in front of everyone.”

“Phineas wants Rylan to shift in front of the council?” Mattheo stands to his feet now and stands next to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Not happening.”

“Don’t worry. The council voted anonymously, and it was agreed that the suggestion was barbaric,” John says. “However, they will require some form of proof eventually that Rylan can in fact shift.”

“Well, you’re an alpha.” Corey motions towards John. “Can’t you put in a word that you’ve seen him shift personally or something?”

“You want him to lie to the council?” Percy inquires. “Not only is that foolish but it’s also dangerous.”

The group of boys begin brainstorming now, ways that I could get out shifting in front of the council. A small part of me feels warm that their trying so hard on my behalf, but the other part is slightly annoyed. Phineas Finley won’t stop until I’ve been either kicked out of school or banished from the Lycan community. Fighting with Fletcher has placed a target on my back, and I’m not sure if it was worth it anymore.

“I say let me shift in front of them.”

The room is quiet now. Percy and John have wide eyes and worried expressions. James and Corey seem to be considering, but Mattheo looks mortified.

“Have you lost your mind?” He asks me.

“Maybe,” I agree. “But Phineas won’t stop until I’ve been kicked out or banished, so I might as well do it.”

“You’ll kill them, or they’ll kill you while defending themselves,” Mattheo insists.

“I know.” The room is silent once more while everyone begins thinking about my suggestion.

Corey shakes his head. “What about finding a way to shift without anger?”

“Take away the blind rage?” Percy asks.

John nods. “That could work.”

“It won’t,” Mattheo counters. “Rylan and Professor Kerum have been training since his first week here and they’ve made no progress.”

My eyes meet his. How would he know about the lack of progress? Unless Kerum’s been telling Nicholas about it. The man can’t keep his mouth shut about anything it would seem.

“Technically, I’ve made a bit of progress.” I extend my claws from both hands and stare at them. “Before training with Kerum I couldn’t use my wolf side at all without shifting. Hearing, seeing, and running were nothing more than what a human could do, but now I’m more in control.”

“That’s it!” Percy exclaims. Everyone stares at him, and he shakes his head while beaming. “We control you.”

A low growl rumbles in my chest as I glare at him. “Try again.”

“No-” He waves away my threatening demeanor. “I meant that if you had someone else controlling your anger then you could control your shifting better.”

“A rune-made tether.” Mattheo leans against my bed post. “Would something like that even exist? I’ve never heard of one like it. The ones we have are made through us- by us.”

John meets Percy’s gaze, and they stare at one another for a moment before both look at me. John looks almost sorry for what he’s about to say. “I’ll talk to Kerum first thing tomorrow about creating a rune for you. We need to get this under control before Phineas Finley blows it out of proportion.”

With that, the two older boys stand and leave us alone in our room. Mattheo looks frustrated as he begins pacing around the room, James stares off at the far wall, and Corey is quietly fiddling with his chipped nail polish.

The only way to keep staying in this school under the radar of the werewolf council is to become controlled by someone else. The thought of someone else controlling me is enough to shift right here, but the barrier prevents it. There’s no way that they could really go through with something like this. There has to be another way.