Legend of Witchtrot Road (11 page)

Cal reached out and slid his hand into mine, our fingers interwoven like two vines grown together over time. It was difficult to tel where I ended and he began. I made a silent, selfish wish that he didn’t have to leave.

I squeezed Cal’s hand and he pul ed me to his chest.

His eyes darkened as I reached up with my free hand to run my fingers along his tanned neck. Even during the depths of Maine winter he managed to maintain his sun-kissed complexion. Cal let his shaggy hair fal into his face, tilting his head down as a shiver coursed through his body.

“I real y wish that I didn’t have to go,” Cal said.

“I know,” I said.

“I love you,” Cal said. “I would do anything for you.”

“Then kiss me,” I said, pulse racing.

Cal’s lips met mine and our hands parted so he could run his fingers down my back. He left a tingling trail of sensation everywhere he touched. I pressed closer, but Cal pul ed away with a sigh.

“We better slow down,” Cal said.

“Wow, um, yeah,” I said. “Good idea.”

At some point during our kiss I had started panting and Cal looked disheveled. Had I done that to his hair? My traitorous fingers twitched as I restrained myself from running them through his shaggy locks. Yes, that must have been me.
Definitely time to cool down.

Emma chose that moment to walk back in from outside. She had exited the cabin to take a cal from her mom before Cal had a chance to tel us about the ful moon. Our crazy kiss had gone unnoticed.
I hope.

“Sorry guys, but I need to go home early,” Emma said.

“Yuki, rain check on our movies and ice cream night?”

“Sure, no problem,” I said.

“Everything okay?” Cal asked.

“Yes, just my parents wanting a family night,” Emma said. “I think the empty nest thing is starting. Ever since I got accepted to Tufts University, they’ve been acting strange. Fortunately for me, they have a house ful of pets.

There’s no way they’l be lonely when I’m gone.”

“Tel your mom I said hi,” I said.

“Um, Emma?” Cal said. “I was just tel ing Yuki, but I have to leave for Wolf Camp tomorrow night with the rest of the pack. It’s almost the ful moon…”

“Don’t worry,” Emma said. “I’l look after her.”

“Ugh, I don’t need looking after,” I said. “I’l be fine.”

“Right,” Emma said, rol ing her eyes. “Anyway, we should get together to do more research on Dylan and the curse of Witchtrot Road.”

“Wel , okay,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Emma said.

As she turned to leave, Emma winked at Cal.

Apparently doing research was also her way of keeping an eye on me. I sighed and started gathering my things.

“I should probably go home too,” I said.

“I’l get my keys,” Cal said.

We didn’t say much on the ride to my house. My thoughts were a tangle of curses, death threats, evil spirits, and the warm lips of a werewolf that I was beginning to want a little too much. I real y wasn’t sure which of these things was the most dangerous.

Chapter 8

After Cal dropped me off, I changed into my favorite pajamas, covered in pink and black smiling skul s, and went up to bed. It was stil early, but the past few days had been exhausting. I tossed and turned, but eventual y fel into a fitful slumber. Something tickled my nose, and though I tried to brush it away, it persisted in touching me.
Oh em
gees, I hope it’s not a spider.

There was one determined spider living in the corner of my bedroom that had thwarted al of Emma’s efforts at

“humane relocation” and though I didn’t mind spiders while awake,
much
, the thought of one crawling on my face while asleep was real y creepy.

I opened my eyes to find myself lying in the grass with an enormous antennae waving monster towering over me. I squeaked in fright before I realized that I was dreaming and the monster was only my dung beetle spirit guide. The paper dry grass, whispering as it moved in the breeze, was the culprit responsible for tickling my nose.
Could be
worse, could have been a spirit guide sized spider.

I pul ed myself to my feet and looked my sacred scarab spirit guide in what I guessed was her face. With a seven foot tal beetle, it’s kind of hard to tel .

“Hi, um, thank you for your help the other day at school,” I said. “You were right. Using my legs real y worked to create a diversion.”

“You are most welcome, little one,” said the scarab, her voice echoing in my head.

The scarab tilted her head to the side and seemed to be weighing her words.

“Are you here about the kidnapping?” I asked.

“It is true that I am concerned for your wel being,” said the scarab.

Her long, thin arms scraped up and down along her carapace in what seemed to be a nervous gesture.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

If my spirit guide was nervous, then I was in big trouble.

“You have begun to walk the world of dreams and darkness, my child, but the way before you is a troubled one,” she said. “Your power has awakened, but you stil have much to learn.”

“I know I stil have a lot to learn, but I’ve already helped a few good spirits find peace,” I said. “I’m trying to help spirits find their way into the light.”

“Yes, little one, and I am proud,” the scarab said. “You have become the flickering flame that leads the spirits of the dead out of darkness, but if you falter, who wil rescue you?”

“I don’t understand,” I said.

I could feel my brow wrinkle and twisted my pajama top between my fists in frustration. Why did the spirits who actual y spoke to me have to speak in riddles?

“Your wolf is a strong protector, but even great warriors have weaknesses however smal ,” said the scarab. “Lady Moon holds sway over your wolf each month. Beware those who may do you harm, whether they be mortal or spirit, when your wolf runs beneath the light of the moon.” I felt a chil run up my spine and goose bumps sprout on my arms. My spirit guide had a point.

“I’l be careful,” I said. “I won’t let you down.”

“Do not worry about letting me down, child,” said the scarab. “Worry about those who are lost in the darkness.” The scarab waved her arms and I turned to look behind me. The air shimmered and blurred to show hundreds of ghosts wandering the in between realm. The feeling that emanated from them was sadness so deep it bordered on despair.

I could look at their torment no longer. Brushing tears from my eyes, I turned back to face the scarab.

“Think of how much suffering your untimely death would bring to these lost souls,” said the scarab.

Untimely death?
I definitely didn’t like the sound of that.

“So, um, are you trying to tel me something?” I asked.

“Like, am I going to die?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” said the scarab. “I am only your guide. I do not have the gift of far sight, but I have heard whispers on the wind and I have watched you as your powers have developed. Heed my warning, little one. Do not rely solely on your wolf warrior to protect you.” The scarab turned away and I took that as my cue to leave. There wasn’t a way out that I could see and I didn’t want to turn around in case the lost spirits were stil visible behind me. I considered asking for directions, but just then I heard a shrieking sound and woke up.

My ears were fil ed with a high pitched wailing, but I smiled rather than hide under my pil ow. I was actual y happy to hear my morning alarm—it meant that I was home.

I turned off the alarm, feeling a teensy bit guilty about letting it run so long on a Sunday morning. Sundays were the only day of the week that my parents could sleep in.

Sorry.

I slipped into my smiling skul slippers and padded downstairs to the kitchen. The least I could do was make breakfast. I poured water into the coffee maker, remembering what my mom’s note had said yesterday.

You never met Grandma Stennings, but she always
suffered terrible headaches.

My headaches were caused by smel impressions—

the stronger the smel impression, the worse the headache became. According to my mom, Grandma Stennings used to get terrible headaches. Was it possible that my grandmother had been able to smel the dead too? It was definitely something to look into.

Maybe I inherited my psychic gift from my dad’s family.

It would be awesome to learn more about my unique talent.

Perhaps I could find some riddle-free answers in the boxes of Grandma’s stuff in the attic.

My spirit guide wasn’t being al that helpful. It wasn’t like how they made it seem in Shaman Camp. Cal dragged me to Shaman Camp the first time to discover our spirit guides. It was muddy, buggy, and way too touchy feely. I also wasn’t too happy about being told that my spirit animal was a dung beetle, especial y when everyone else received cool guides like wolves, bears, eagles, and bunnies. Why couldn’t I get something cute and furry? Oh no, I get a giant bug that disturbs my sleep and speaks in riddles.
Lucky me.

When we returned to Shaman Camp the second time, looking for answers about my emerging gift, I had a private session with the head shaman. Cal somehow arranged the whole thing, but it wasn’t as swanky as it sounds. I guess it’s an honor to be invited to sit at the head shaman’s fire, but it was just as muddy and buggy as my first trip to Shaman Camp. The news I received was just as discouraging as the first time. Not only did I have a dung beetle spirit guide, but the head shaman dude announced that the reason I had started smel ing things that weren’t there, and getting mega hel a headaches al the time, was due to my psychic gift of smel ing the dead.
Oh joy.

Unfortunately, the answers seemed to stop there.

There was only so much that the shaman could see. He left me with cryptic instructions to be patient and wait for my spirit guide to lead me on the path between the worlds of the dead and the living.
As if that didn’t sound totally
creepy.

I closed my eyes and whispered a silent prayer that I would find some helpful answers in our attic. I stil had my eyes closed when my dad tapped my shoulder making me jump and causing the hair on my neck to stand up as if electrified.

“Gotcha!” my dad chuckled.

“You are so evil,” I said laughing. “You could have given me a heart attack.”

“Just keeping you on your toes,” he said. “You weren’t fal ing asleep on your feet were you?”

I was tempted to spil everything to my dad, the ghosts, dreams, and bul ies at school, but I didn’t want to risk losing my freedom so close to graduation. My parents were pretty awesome, but tel ing them that I could smel dead people, and put myself in danger while trying to help ghosts find their way into the light, would likely convince them I was crazy. A one-way ticket to the funny farm was not in my plans for spring semester. Oh yeah, and “hey Dad, I’m dating a werewolf” probably wouldn’t go over wel either.

No, the only thing I could come close to tel ing my dad about was the bul ying from normal humans, wel creepy steroid humans, and that would only make my parents worry. It’s not like I could tel my dad not to worry, since I had round the clock werewolf protection.
Although I’ll be
losing that protection tonight.
I tried not to wince. If the J-team came after me while Cal and the pack were gone, then I’d tel my dad, but it would only be as a last resort.

Leaning back against the counter, folding my arms over my chest, I shrugged my shoulders.

“It’s Sunday morning,” I said. “I’m al owed to be sleepy.”

“You getting enough sleep?” Dad asked. “I heard you having nightmares again last night.”

Son of a dung beetle.
I had been talking in my sleep?

Not good.

“It’s no big, Dad,” I said. I tried to laugh and come up with a believable reason that I’d be having nightmares that had nothing to do with spirit guides, ghosts, or werewolves.

“Emma showed me one of her PETA YouTube videos yesterday and it kind of freaked me out. That’s al .” My dad groaned as he poured his coffee. “It wasn’t the one with baby chickens getting their beaks clipped, was it?”

“That’s the one,” I said.

“That video gave me nightmares too,” Dad said, giving an exaggerated shudder.

My dad grabbed his mug and newspaper off the counter and went to sit at the kitchen table.

“You kids doing anything fun today?” Dad asked.

He was already reading his paper, so I knew he was just asking to be polite, not because he was worried about me.

“I’m doing some school work with Emma later,” I said.

“No Cal today?” Dad asked, winking over his newspaper.

“Um, he’s going on a skiing trip with his family,” I said.

That’s what we cal ed Wolf Camp in the colder months.

In the summer they were on a camping trip and during the winter they were off skiing. My parents never seemed to think it was suspicious.

“Tel him to have a good time,” Dad mumbled.

He was already off in newspaper land, so I grabbed my coffee and retreated up to my room.

*****

Cal was busy with pack preparations al day, as I’d suspected, but he made time to send me loads of text messages. Some messages were funny and others romantic. He always seemed to know what I needed most, even when he wasn’t here with me.

I was smiling again at one of Cal’s messages when my phone rang. It was Emma.

“You busy?” Emma asked.

“Nope, Cal’s doing last minute preparations getting the pack ready for Wolf Camp so I’m total y free,” I said.

“Cool,” Emma said. “I’m coming over.”

“Okay,” I said.

“And Yuki?” Emma asked. “You don’t know who would send me flowers do you? Gordy hasn’t said anything has he?”

“Oh,
oh
, I need to talk to you actual y,” I said.

I hadn’t had a chance to fil Emma in on the Gordy kissing Katie thing and the Gabriel making her his mate thing. Those were two very big pieces of news.

“Great, that does
not
sound good,” Emma said. “Do I even want to know?”