last month. With her personal beliefs and paranormal stories gaining popularity, she’d
at least hear me out. My parents were not an option.
Unable to sleep and not sure what else to do, I flipped open my laptop and logged
online.
Wolfman , I typed and watched the links pop up. It was then I realized the one word I’d been
searching for: Werewolf .
That had to be it! I’d seen a real, honest to God, werewolf.
Just reading the word prompted an avalanche of memories from my day — hearing what
must have been Zane’s “beautiful bitch” comment; the park’s wolf, Randall, and his
vision of a huge black wolf that he’d referred to as brother ; Zane’s odd interaction with the very same wolf; Zane’s superhuman speed and strength;
Jazmine’s reference to her future mate ; the three men’s comments about me being a human; the vision of the monster in Will’s
bedroom; the brutal murders. It all made sense now, sort of. Zane, my potential dream man, was a werewolf. He’d beheaded someone with his own teeth.
He was a vicious killer and the full moon stories had nothing to do with his ability
to change. He’d shifted at will.
There was more. I remembered the three would-be assailants referring to Zane as a
purebred. What did that make them?
They weren’t human.
I’d tried earlier today, with no success, to read my very human coworkers. No wonder
I’d heard the thugs! They were part animal! What did that make Jazmine? — One scary
bitch.
Horror and anger collided as I remembered the hatred in Jazmine’s eyes, sending my
body into a series of spasms. My teeth chattered as the tears flowed again. I thought
I’d released every fear and tear back at Will’s. Apparently not. I made no effort
to hold back now.
What I’d endured in less than twenty four hours was enough to make the toughest diehard
crazy with fright. Without my special ability, I’d have continued my life unaware
of the supernatural world around me. I felt better knowing. Knowing meant I could
prepare and take precautions to protect myself and the people I cared about.
Still too wired to sleep after the tears subsided, and desperate to know more, my
fingers flew across the keyboard as I conducted my first ever research project on
werewolves.
Of course I’d fall for a dog, a damn dog. Talk about irony. Someone out there had
a sick sense of humor. I hadn’t bargained for this when I’d said my half-hearted prayer
for excitement yesterday morning.
Bob had always warned us to be careful what we wished for, another life lesson I’d
ignored.
As expected, the Internet was filled with abundant folklore in relation to werewolves,
or lycanthropes, as they were referred to in Greek. Some were said to have mystical powers,
including superb senses and strength. But the stories, overall, featured dramatic
differences, making it difficult to determine the facts, if any, that were relevant
to all so-called werewolves.
I wondered if one of Zane’s powers was his ability to break a woman’s heart in forty-eight
hours or less. It would seem if my heart was any indication, he was heartbreak material.
Looking back, his protective nature was without a doubt lupine. My old mutt, Buddy
Boy, would have fought off Butch the lion to save me, given the chance. Zane had been protective from protective from the start. That thought gave me some comfort. He hadn’t been running around rescuing
anyone else.
Sometime before dawn on Tuesday, with my thoughts becoming even more incoherent, I
closed my computer.
That was the last I remembered of my longest Monday ever.
***
The ringing phone jarred me awake.
I tore myself from the chair where I’d fallen asleep. My wall clock read 9:11 AM.
I was over an hour late for work.
“Luke, I don’t know what happened!” I half screeched, not yet awake.
“I told you to take the day off. Zane’s here. He can handle things. Stay home. It’s
an
at least hear me out. My parents were not an option.
Unable to sleep and not sure what else to do, I flipped open my laptop and logged
online.
Wolfman , I typed and watched the links pop up. It was then I realized the one word I’d been
searching for: Werewolf .
That had to be it! I’d seen a real, honest to God, werewolf.
Just reading the word prompted an avalanche of memories from my day — hearing what
must have been Zane’s “beautiful bitch” comment; the park’s wolf, Randall, and his
vision of a huge black wolf that he’d referred to as brother ; Zane’s odd interaction with the very same wolf; Zane’s superhuman speed and strength;
Jazmine’s reference to her future mate ; the three men’s comments about me being a human; the vision of the monster in Will’s
bedroom; the brutal murders. It all made sense now, sort of. Zane, my potential dream man, was a werewolf. He’d beheaded someone with his own teeth.
He was a vicious killer and the full moon stories had nothing to do with his ability
to change. He’d shifted at will.
There was more. I remembered the three would-be assailants referring to Zane as a
purebred. What did that make them?
They weren’t human.
I’d tried earlier today, with no success, to read my very human coworkers. No wonder
I’d heard the thugs! They were part animal! What did that make Jazmine? — One scary
bitch.
Horror and anger collided as I remembered the hatred in Jazmine’s eyes, sending my
body into a series of spasms. My teeth chattered as the tears flowed again. I thought
I’d released every fear and tear back at Will’s. Apparently not. I made no effort
to hold back now.
What I’d endured in less than twenty four hours was enough to make the toughest diehard
crazy with fright. Without my special ability, I’d have continued my life unaware
of the supernatural world around me. I felt better knowing. Knowing meant I could
prepare and take precautions to protect myself and the people I cared about.
Still too wired to sleep after the tears subsided, and desperate to know more, my
fingers flew across the keyboard as I conducted my first ever research project on
werewolves.
Of course I’d fall for a dog, a damn dog. Talk about irony. Someone out there had
a sick sense of humor. I hadn’t bargained for this when I’d said my half-hearted prayer
for excitement yesterday morning.
Bob had always warned us to be careful what we wished for, another life lesson I’d
ignored.
As expected, the Internet was filled with abundant folklore in relation to werewolves,
or lycanthropes, as they were referred to in Greek. Some were said to have mystical powers,
including superb senses and strength. But the stories, overall, featured dramatic
differences, making it difficult to determine the facts, if any, that were relevant
to all so-called werewolves.
I wondered if one of Zane’s powers was his ability to break a woman’s heart in forty-eight
hours or less. It would seem if my heart was any indication, he was heartbreak material.
Looking back, his protective nature was without a doubt lupine. My old mutt, Buddy
Boy, would have fought off Butch the lion to save me, given the chance. Zane had been protective from protective from the start. That thought gave me some comfort. He hadn’t been running around rescuing
anyone else.
Sometime before dawn on Tuesday, with my thoughts becoming even more incoherent, I
closed my computer.
That was the last I remembered of my longest Monday ever.
***
The ringing phone jarred me awake.
I tore myself from the chair where I’d fallen asleep. My wall clock read 9:11 AM.
I was over an hour late for work.
“Luke, I don’t know what happened!” I half screeched, not yet awake.
“I told you to take the day off. Zane’s here. He can handle things. Stay home. It’s
an
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