a normal wolf,” he began.
“I think that was established when it broke into a barn past a lock. So, what is it?”
He shoved his hands into his front pockets and she averted her eyes from the effects of the motion on his physique. She needed to keep her mind clear.
“There are legends . . .”
When he stopped speaking, Ruby glanced at him with a small smile. “More oak tree legends?”
His gaze jumped to hers at the mention of the oak tree and he smiled.
“You remember that day, huh?”
She shrugged. “It was fun, hiding from Lowell. And then listening to you make up stories about the oak tree.”
“I didn’t make them up.” She smirked at him. “I mean, I can’t testify that they are all utter truth, but I didn’t make the legends up. They were all things I’d read. Besides, most legends have some kind of basis in truth somewhere, right? That’s how they become legends.”
“I guess,” she conceded, returning her gaze to the path ahead. “Are you going to tell me some wolf legends?”
“Only one,” he said hesitantly. “Have you heard of lycans?”
Now she laughed outright. “C’mon, Rafe, you’re going to tell me we’ve been dealing with a werewolf? Seriously?”
“No, not a werewolf.” Ruby was relieved, afraid they’d been about to jump into the Twilight Zone. “A lycan,” he said.
She stared at him, saw the serious expression on his face. “Please tell me you’re pulling my leg.”
He took a deep breath. “I wish I were.”
Ruby skidded to a stop. “Rafe, this is ridiculous! Werewolves—lycans don’t exist. Except in the minds of people with overactive imaginations, or those who put them in books and movies.”
Rafe hadn’t stopped when she did and she had to jog to catch up to him again.
“Lycans aren’t werewolves, they’re shape shifters,” he said, as if she hadn’t just protested the reality of them. “Their appearance is very wolf-like, and so people assume they are werewolves.”
“Okay, I’ll play along,” she said, praying that he really was just messing with her. “Where did this lycan come from?”
He shrugged, muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt. “No one knows for sure where this strain originated. It’s been passed down from generation to generation, though until recently, the family has been able to control the lycanthropy. Now, one of the lycans is out of control.”
Ruby bit her lip against the sarcasm that wanted to come out. Rafe seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying. And she’d thought her father was—
“Wait! Are you saying my mom was killed by a lycan?”
“There is evidence—”
A boom of thunder directly overhead interrupted Rafe’s speaking. They both flinched at the unexpected sound. Glancing up, Ruby saw that black clouds had rolled in and now blotted the sky. How had that happened without my notice? One look at her companion told her exactly how it had escaped her attention.
“We’d better find some cover, quick,” Rafe said needlessly. Ruby had grown up in Piera. She knew as well as anyone how sudden and fierce storms could be here. She pulled her backpack around to the front as she walked quickly behind Rafe, unzipping it and pulling out her poncho. She pulled the red vinyl hooded garment over her head, stumbling when it caught across her eyes, stealing her vision.
A steady hand caught her, keeping her from tumbling to the ground. “Thanks,” she said, tugging the garment down, smiling up at . . . Lowell.
“Lowell!” She jerked her arm from his grip. “What are you doing here?”
“Yes, bro, what are you doing here?” Rafe’s voice reflected his anger at Lowell’s sudden appearance.
“Dad told me where you were headed. I figured I’d catch up and walk along with you.” Lowell lifted a strand of Ruby’s blackened hair. “You changed your hair.” Disappointment rimmed his
“I think that was established when it broke into a barn past a lock. So, what is it?”
He shoved his hands into his front pockets and she averted her eyes from the effects of the motion on his physique. She needed to keep her mind clear.
“There are legends . . .”
When he stopped speaking, Ruby glanced at him with a small smile. “More oak tree legends?”
His gaze jumped to hers at the mention of the oak tree and he smiled.
“You remember that day, huh?”
She shrugged. “It was fun, hiding from Lowell. And then listening to you make up stories about the oak tree.”
“I didn’t make them up.” She smirked at him. “I mean, I can’t testify that they are all utter truth, but I didn’t make the legends up. They were all things I’d read. Besides, most legends have some kind of basis in truth somewhere, right? That’s how they become legends.”
“I guess,” she conceded, returning her gaze to the path ahead. “Are you going to tell me some wolf legends?”
“Only one,” he said hesitantly. “Have you heard of lycans?”
Now she laughed outright. “C’mon, Rafe, you’re going to tell me we’ve been dealing with a werewolf? Seriously?”
“No, not a werewolf.” Ruby was relieved, afraid they’d been about to jump into the Twilight Zone. “A lycan,” he said.
She stared at him, saw the serious expression on his face. “Please tell me you’re pulling my leg.”
He took a deep breath. “I wish I were.”
Ruby skidded to a stop. “Rafe, this is ridiculous! Werewolves—lycans don’t exist. Except in the minds of people with overactive imaginations, or those who put them in books and movies.”
Rafe hadn’t stopped when she did and she had to jog to catch up to him again.
“Lycans aren’t werewolves, they’re shape shifters,” he said, as if she hadn’t just protested the reality of them. “Their appearance is very wolf-like, and so people assume they are werewolves.”
“Okay, I’ll play along,” she said, praying that he really was just messing with her. “Where did this lycan come from?”
He shrugged, muscles rippling beneath his t-shirt. “No one knows for sure where this strain originated. It’s been passed down from generation to generation, though until recently, the family has been able to control the lycanthropy. Now, one of the lycans is out of control.”
Ruby bit her lip against the sarcasm that wanted to come out. Rafe seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying. And she’d thought her father was—
“Wait! Are you saying my mom was killed by a lycan?”
“There is evidence—”
A boom of thunder directly overhead interrupted Rafe’s speaking. They both flinched at the unexpected sound. Glancing up, Ruby saw that black clouds had rolled in and now blotted the sky. How had that happened without my notice? One look at her companion told her exactly how it had escaped her attention.
“We’d better find some cover, quick,” Rafe said needlessly. Ruby had grown up in Piera. She knew as well as anyone how sudden and fierce storms could be here. She pulled her backpack around to the front as she walked quickly behind Rafe, unzipping it and pulling out her poncho. She pulled the red vinyl hooded garment over her head, stumbling when it caught across her eyes, stealing her vision.
A steady hand caught her, keeping her from tumbling to the ground. “Thanks,” she said, tugging the garment down, smiling up at . . . Lowell.
“Lowell!” She jerked her arm from his grip. “What are you doing here?”
“Yes, bro, what are you doing here?” Rafe’s voice reflected his anger at Lowell’s sudden appearance.
“Dad told me where you were headed. I figured I’d catch up and walk along with you.” Lowell lifted a strand of Ruby’s blackened hair. “You changed your hair.” Disappointment rimmed his
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