C10 Charlie

This time, I knew I couldn’t ignore it. But before I could ask, she turned and cut across the street to the grassy courtyard in the middle of the cul-de-sac. I followed, glancing around. It dawned on me that things were very quiet here. Almost too quiet. No lawnmowers, no traffic, no mailman. Where was everybody?

Regan stopped in the center and faced the next house. “The houses here all belong to the council members. That one there is Sylvia Lantagne. She’s older but super sweet and always knows when you’re trying to sneak around. It’s weird. And the one beside her is Judas Prescott.” She rolled her eyes as she added, “He’s never wrong.” She turned again, moving clockwise. “And that last one there is Sheridan Waters.” Regan shivered. “Don’t piss her off. She’s sort of scary. Like permanent PMS.”

I smiled. “Noted.”

“Seriously. Some freshman kid made the mistake of calling her out on an error she made on one of the recon reports and she made him run perimeter at the sewer plant for like six months. So gross.” Regan wrinkled her nose.

“Patrols? You guys have a neighborhood watch or something?”

“We patrol twenty-four hours a day and everyone above the age of fifteen gets worked into the schedule. We have to be on our guard. Otherwise, well, look what happened to my mom.” Her eyes flashed with grief fueled by anger.

“What did happen to your mom?” I asked quietly.

She stared into the trees and in a breathy voice said, “She was murdered.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Truly. I can’t imagine…”

“My dad was out running patrols. I’d gone into town, to a movie with some friends.” Her voice changed the longer she talked. It was touched with softness, and more than a little sadness, and I knew the wound was still fresh. “She was home alone and … the monsters got to her.”

“So you know who did it?” I asked.

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she didn’t get the chance to respond.

“Regan, hello.” A woman with pin-straight blonde hair strode across the grassy courtyard toward us. A blue sports car idled in the driveway of the house behind her. I blinked. I hadn’t even noticed her drive up.

“Sheridan.” Regan nodded stiffly and instantly took on the calm and collected leader stance I’d seen her wear back at the house.

“Is this her?” Sheridan stuck her slender hand out toward me. “Charlotte, correct?”

I shook her hand and forced a smile. Even without Regan’s warning there was something unlikeable about the woman. “It’s Charlie. Nice to meet you.”

“And you. We’ve all heard so much about you over the years.” Her sharp eyes cut over my shoulder and back again within the spread of a heartbeat. “Did your mother accompany you?”

“No, she stayed behind,” I said, wondering why she would ask me that if the pack had been the one to decide my mother wasn’t welcome.

“Hmm.” Her smile turned smug. “Better for her. We wouldn’t want to add more of a load than she’s already had to bear.”

She tilted her head toward me and I could only assume the “load” she referred to was me. I had to bite my tongue against a sarcastic reply. Sheridan Waters, I decided, could go to hell.

“I was just showing Charlie around town,” Regan said. I shot her a grateful look for changing the subject.

“Very good. I suspect I will see you both at the council meeting tomorrow evening. I trust Charlie will be … acclimated to her new situation by then.” She eyed me like one would a child throwing a tantrum and then walked off. Her posture was ramrod straight and stiff.

“Geez, she walks like she has a stick up her—”

“Charlie,” Regan hissed.

“She does.”

“You can’t say things like that about council members,” Regan whispered as Sheridan headed for her car. She turned back once and waved before getting inside and driving off.

I shook my head. “But earlier, you said she had permanent—”

“I shouldn’t have said that. It was disrespectful. An alpha always shows respect to the council and courtesy to the commoners.” It sounded like a recitation, and I wondered if such statements would be part of my new “schooling” dear old Dad had mentioned.

“That sounds really stuck up,” I said.

Regan looked at me sharply. “Let’s keep moving.”

We walked out of the cul-de-sac and down the street. At the stop sign a single car appeared from the other direction. It was the Chevy truck I’d seen at the house. One of the boys I’d seen, Carter I think, was driving. I tried to remember if he’d been one of my abductors but I couldn’t be sure. He caught me watching and smiled and I decided then and there to like him anyway. His was the first genuine welcome I’d seen so far.

“You girls want a lift?” he asked.

“Thanks, Carter. We’re fine.” Regan’s answer was short and clipped.

“You sure? It’d be a lot faster,” he said.

Regan glared.

“Your dad said I should drive you,” Carter added, clearly unbothered my Regan’s coldness. He kept pace with us a moment more while Regan seemed to debate.

Eventually, Regan’s shoulders sagged. “Fine,” she agreed. “Charlie, get in.”

She opened the door and stepped back so I was forced to slide in first. I wedged myself into the middle seat, one leg on each side of the gearshift, and tried to ignore the claustrophobia I felt at being crammed into such a small space.

As soon as Regan pulled the door shut Carter hit the gas and flipped a U-turn. We passed a few more houses on the way out of the neighborhood and I did see a few people out and about in the yard or getting into their cars. Carter turned out of the neighborhood and we picked up speed. It was a back road, winding and narrow, with the forest closing us in on both sides. In less than a mile it opened back up again and I could see a small strip of businesses and buildings up ahead. Carter slowed as we neared.

“So, this is it?” I asked, swiveling right and left to take it all in.

“Welcome to Paradise,” Carter said with a wide arc of his arm.