Dark Lies: Chapter 5

Savannah

I snatched the thick folder out and spread its contents on the floor. Dossiers and photographs of each member of Jaxson’s pack. What the hell?

My pulse throbbed in my temples as I seized two more folders. I didn’t recognize them, but one appeared to be full of information about a pack from Grand Rapids and the other a pack in Duluth. I fumbled with the key and opened the lower two drawers, both of which were filled with manila folders about packs spread across the east and west coasts.

Bile rose in my throat, and I sunk to my knees. Laurel was keeping tabs on what looked like all the packs in North America.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, shocked and numb, but a loud crash from upstairs jerked me back to reality.

Scrambling, I shuffled the papers back into their places and returned the folders to the drawers, careful to make sure each was in its proper spot before locking up and returning the key to Laurel’s desk.

I tiptoed to the door and peeked out. All was silent except for the muffled moan from a woman upstairs. And that did it. There wasn’t much more that I could handle for one day.

I gave the room one last look and—

Were those photo albums on the bookshelf?

Curiosity got the better of me, and I crept across the study and tugged out one of the oversized albums. Inside were old photos of Laurel and Pete and others I didn’t recognize. I grabbed the other one and flipped through the plastic pages, then stopped when I saw my dad smiling back at me.

A choked sob escaped my throat as I dragged my fingers over the fading photo of my dad holding a frisbee at the beach. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen.

There were more photos of him and Laurel and Pete on the next pages. And then of my mom.

Tears rolled down my face as I took in the happy faces of my parents. They were young and filled with so much love. One photo was of them canoeing, another of Dad with Mom slung over his shoulder.

I sat there for what felt like hours, memorizing every snapshot of their lives laid out before me. My grief mixed with the delight of seeing their faces again. When the fire had destroyed our home six years ago, we’d lost everything. Apart from the few photographs that my godmother had kept, these were the only surviving records of my parents.

I went through the photos again, settling on the one of them that included a man I didn’t recognize. He was older and handsome, and very well built. I slid the photo out of its sleeve and flipped it over. On the back was my mom’s handwriting:

Silas and me hiking with Dad at Crater Lake, 1992.

That man had to be my mother’s father, Russ. I’d never met him. I flipped the photo over and stared at the man with his arm slung around Mom. He had the same eyes as her, but his build was like—

I dropped the photo and froze. His build was like Jaxson’s, unnaturally large and ripped.

As if I could bury the truth, I shoved the picture back into its sleeve. But there was a folded-up piece of paper inside that I must have missed.

I tugged it out and opened it, immediately recognizing my dad’s chicken scratch handwriting. I smoothed out the creases as I tried to make sense of the words.

Lauri-

I’m sorry we had to go without saying goodbye. This was never how I wanted to leave things, but you know why we had to. Tell Father I love him and that I hope he’ll one day find it in his heart to forgive me. But Claire is my soulmate, and now that we’re expecting a child, I will always choose them first. He can never know, and you must tell no one. Thank you for your kindness, dear sister. Love you always.

– Silas

My hands were shaking, and the room suddenly felt constricting. Panic washed over me as I jammed the note and photograph back in the sleeve. I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get out.

The wound on my shoulder started to tingle, and I shoved the album back onto the shelf with my heart pounding.

“You dirty little half-breed snoop!”

I spun. An old man with a white goatee stood in the doorway. My lungs seized, and my mouth went dry.

I recognized his face. His picture was hanging on the office wall. Laurel’s father. My grandfather. Simon LaSalle.

Who’d been dead now, according to Casey, for around fifteen years.

The ghost’s face tightened with lines of hatred. “If my daughter found you in her office, if she knew what you really were, she’d skin you alive and spread you out at the foot of her bed like a rug.”

Horror seized me, and I barreled toward the door.

My grandfather tried to block my way, but the ethereal figure dissipated into smoke as I charged through, leaving the doorway empty. It left the cut from the Soul Knife burning like the flames of hell.

My vision shifted, and nausea rolled over me. Need to get out of here. Can’t breathe.

I staggered down the hallway in a daze and fumbled with the locks on the front door like my hands were encased in greasy mittens. I burst outside and stumbled down the front stairs before taking off across the lawn. Sobs tore from my throat, but I kept moving, knowing only that I needed to get away.

The ghost, my life, my past…

As if inhabiting another body, I heard a distant voice call my name, but it didn’t register with my grandfather’s words repeating over and over.

You dirty little half-breed snoop. She’d skin you alive.

I shuddered at the words I couldn’t bring myself to believe—that my mother had been a werewolf.

But you’ve known the truth all along, a voice inside me said. Not my wolf, my own voice.

“No!” I cried, clutching my head. My foot caught on a garden hose, and I fell to my knees in a yard two houses down.

How did I get here?

I was too distracted by the litany of thoughts racing through my mind to dwell on the sting in my shins.

I didn’t bother getting up. There was no way to run from the truth. My grandfather Russ had been a werewolf. My mother must have been one. And my parents fled Magic Side to hide me from Grandfather LaSalle.

I could still feel the hatred in the ghost’s words.

“Savannah!” A distant but familiar voice broke through the din of my churning thoughts.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders, and when I blinked away the tears streaming from my eyes, I recognized the face staring back at me. “Tony?”

“What happened? Are you hurt?” he asked, lifting me to my feet and inspecting my body for injuries. The two other shifters who’d come with him prowled the street, looking around confusedly.

I shrugged out of Tony’s grasp and wiped my face with my shaking hands. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. I just had a bad dream.”

If only that were true.

“You’re a bad liar,” Tony said darkly. “You’re in your same clothes.”

“Hey!” My cousin’s voice echoed down the street.

“Oh, no,” I muttered, and turned in time to see Casey leap over the deck railing of Laurel and Pete’s house.

“Get the fuck away from her, you ass turds!” he yelled. Summoning a ball of fire in his palm, he sprinted toward us.

“Casey, stop!” I stepped forward with arms raised. “It’s just a misunderstanding.”

Tony gave a brusque laugh and shook his head but motioned to the other two shifters and began walking back to his Jeep.

Casey watched them go with a scowl, then slung an arm around my shoulder. “What the hell was that? Did those dogs jump you?”

I rubbed my forehead, which was beginning to throb. “No. They’re just here watching my back. Just in case the bikers show up. Everything is fine, I just—”

What could I tell Casey? That I’d raided his mother’s office? That I’d seen the ghost of our grandfather? That I was one of those dogs.

I shuddered. “Panic attack. I had a rough day. Let’s go inside.”

Casey was watching me a little too closely with an expression I couldn’t quite read, but he didn’t say anything. He just squeezed my shoulder and led me home.

The second we stepped inside, my phone lit up and began buzzing. Jaxson.

Casey glanced at my phone as he strolled past me. “Deal with your business, but when that’s done, you and I need to talk.”

I shook my head as I stared down at my buzzing phone. I really didn’t want to answer, but I knew that if I didn’t, Jaxson would break the front door down in ten minutes.

Could this day get any worse?

I sucked in a shaky breath and tapped the screen.

“What’s going on?” Jaxson all but shouted.

“Nothing, actually. I stepped out for some fresh air and…well, it was all a misunderstanding.” Damn it, I was such a bad liar.

“Cut the bullshit. I’m five minutes away, and unless you want me showing up on your aunt’s doorstep, you’d better tell me what happened.”

“No! Don’t do that!” My head was really throbbing now, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment. “It was really nothing, Jaxson. I just had a little panic attack. I’m okay now, though, I promise.”

Understatement of the century. But I needed time to process, and the last thing I needed was Jaxson breathing down my neck.

“A panic attack? Why?” His voice hardened with concern. I was sure he’d gotten a play-by-play from his goons, and after humiliating myself in front of them on the neighbors’ lawn, I didn’t want to replay it over again to Jaxson.

I turned my back to Casey, who was grabbing a beer in the kitchen and without a doubt eavesdropping.

“I found some old photos of my parents, and then I lost it. I just need some time to process—it’s been a rough day.”

He was silent, and I wasn’t sure if he was still on the line.

“Jaxson?”

He grumbled, “Okay, fine. But hand me off to Casey.”

“You don’t need—”

“I’ll call him myself. My people are parked out front and not going away. I need shit to be crystal clear with your cousin,” Jaxson growled with irritation.

I sighed and headed into the kitchen. “He wants to talk to you.”

With an exasperated sigh, my cousin took the phone. “Yeah?” He frowned and nodded a few times, and then his eyes bugged out and locked on me. “Of course I’m not going to let her out of my sight. Yeah, yeah. Night, Laurent.”

Casey hung up and handed my phone back. “You want to talk about it?”

“No.”

The only people I wanted to talk to were long dead—my parents.