Shifter Vengeance (Appleton Wolves Book 1), page 8
Once I shot the two arrows in the same place, Derek was confident that I mastered the bow and arrow like I mastered the other two weapons. We spent the rest of the training session on the gun and the machete before calling it a day.
“I’m beyond proud of you for working so hard today despite feeling discouraged at times.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you so much, Derek. You have no idea how much I appreciate you.”
I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled tight against his rock-solid torso and abs. Derek hugged me back and grabbed the lower end of my hair and my upper back. We stayed like this for a few minutes as the breeze of the day brushed against us.
It was eight in the evening, and I felt comfortable in the confines of my bedroom in the Devereaux house. Even though I was hellbent on justice for my aunt, I still had a separate life from that to live. Now that I was living with my new family in their house, I needed to make myself useful. I needed a job soon.
I was on my laptop browsing online job boards and looking for a job. I didn’t know when I was going back to school after the events that unfolded with my aunt. It was already a struggle to go back to school for my senior year after the death of my mom, who died of a simple heart attack. My aunt had her heart ripped out of her chest. I didn’t know when, or even if, I was going back to school to finish my senior year.
I was looking for a job to balance my life with my pursuit of revenge against that damn shapeshifter. I never balanced anything at once in my life. It was worth a try, though, especially if I needed a cover story to give the Devereauxs when they asked for my whereabouts when I went on long nights with Derek to hunt for the shapeshifter.
I weighed the risks in my mind of balancing a job with my secret mission. I had to brace myself for whatever challenges I would face on this journey of mine of juggling two things at once. For one, I wouldn’t see my best friend, practically my sister, for the majority of the time while I have a job and hunt the shapeshifter down. Two, the job could interfere with my secret plot of revenge if I had a night shift or something.
But there were other reasons I needed a job. I felt the stinging feeling of being a freeloader while I lived with the Devereauxs. They provided me with food and a roof over me after being left homeless from my aunt’s death. I had to repay them the favor. I had a plan in mind to rent a one-bedroom or studio apartment when I turned eighteen. I needed to save a boatload of money to do this, a goal that would take a while to achieve.
I also felt horrible that MacKayla was paying for my car insurance and monthly payments. I adamantly rejected her doing that in the first place, telling her how much guilt I would carry on my shoulders if she did that. MacKayla wouldn’t hear a word I had to say. She insisted on doing this for me, telling me that we were practically sisters and that I’ve been through enough sorrow in my life.
MacKayla wanted to help me in my life. She added that since her parents were working to support the house along with her brother Russell, she told me that her money was gathering cyber dust in her bank account. MacKayla wasn’t a thrifty spender like most girls. She was the opposite and only purchased something when it was necessary.
I relented in the end, but I proposed a compromise with MacKayla. I told her that I would split the payments with her in my car once I got a job. I would pay the bigger monthly payments, and she would pay the smaller fee of my car insurance. But MacKayla scoffed at the compromise.
“I might as well just let you pay for everything for your car! All my money would have gone for nothing. It would defeat the purpose of why I gave you money in the first place. Besides, how are you going to save enough money for your apartment?”
MacKayla came up with a compromise of her own. Even when I get a job, she will continue paying for my car and suggested I save up all my money for the studio or one-bedroom apartment since I told her about it. By that point, I got bored with the debate and wanted to tap out so bad. I gave in to her compromise and we ended our quarrel with her compromise, which made MacKayla giddy with joy.
While Derek and I worked on my mission to get justice for my aunt, I still had a life to live, and I needed something to distract me when I wasn’t looking for a way to kill that SOB shifter. I just wanted to get a job to not feel useless in general. I found so many jobs in one job board that I practically didn’t need to go to any other one.
There were so many jobs that I could apply for that I practically made it a goal to apply to five of them a day in the hopes of getting one of them. Even if I didn’t finish my education and obtain my GED, there were still options out there for me. I could be a warehouse worker, a server in a restaurant, a coffee barista, a delivery driver, and so much more.
I applied to five jobs before calling it quits for the night. My eyes began to dry up and get red from looking at all the job listings. I rubbed my eyes at the same time I closed my laptop. If I looked at the screen one more time, I would need eye drops. I plopped down on my bed and stretched my body to loosen up all the sore muscles in my body.
I came up with an idea for the next thing I could do as soon as my head hit the pillow. I was bored out of my mind, so I decided to research Bart Ramsay as validation of Derek’s story. I typed "Bartholomew Ramsey" in the search bar. Many pictures came straight into my face of the same artist sketch of a man with white hair and a white beard sitting in a chair holding a cane. The background was some white wall with nothing on it, not even pictures or designs and decors.
No camera portraits of Bart existed. Only several takes of the same drawing of Bart by some anonymous artist filled the internet, and I wondered why. I saw many articles about Bart, ranging from his adventures of monster hunting and how his character has redefined the horror and dark fantasy genres to the anonymous ‘author’ of the ‘Bart Ramsey series.’
Derek’s claim about the monster world and the supernatural being secret was true. I found a Wikipedia page on Bart and clicked on it. It was then that I knew every article about Bart had something in common: they portrayed him as a fictional character instead of a real person.
The same illustration that I saw earlier, that so many later artists used for their copycat styles and redesigns, was the same picture that adorned the top of the Wikipedia page for Bart. The page explained that Bart was a character in a fictional dark fantasy series. He is the protagonist bounty hunter noted for his many supernatural conquests of various monsters.
The author was anonymous, and the series is described as one of the earliest dark fantasy works in America. But who the hell was the author? He wanted his identity protected and the secret about monsters maintained. If the purpose was to keep him and his monster hunting under wraps, who would uncover his identity for all of America to know? Why reveal Bart’s existence at all, let alone as some fictitious character?
My mind raced back to the conversation Derek and I had outside the library. I remembered him telling me about how Bart wrote about all of his hunts, the monsters he killed, and how he killed them along with their weaknesses in a book. The book's location is unknown and the only one who knows about it is a witch who befriended the hunter.
The witch…That’s it!
The author of "Anonymous" was not anonymous to me anymore. But why would the witch, who Bart entrusted his book with, write a series about him or expose him to everyone like that? Why would she detail his monster hunts in a fictional dark fantasy series? Did she decide to profit off Bart and his adventures because she was broke?
These questions swirled in my mind for a few seconds before a crucial epiphany came to my mind. If the witch wrote this series of dark fantasy books based on Bart and his monster hunts, and she used Bart’s book as her number one source, what if I found and read the entire series to uncover the answers I needed to kill a shapeshifter?
That’s it, girl! All you have to do is find the book in the series involving shapeshifters and read it. Then you’ll know what to do to avenge your aunt!
My fingers tapped on my phone's touchscreen with speed, searching for this series that the witch published about Bart. My spirit, however, was crushed when I found out that the series about Bart was no longer in print and had been out of print since the 1930s. I guess the popularity of the series fell to the point where there was no longer a reason to keep it in circulation.
Dammit!
I hoped to use this series as an alternative to Bart’s book since only the witch and God knew where it was. I wanted to make my life easier and just read this series for answers. But I guess justice was taking me on the hard road to achieving it, not wanting me to take shortcuts or cut corners.
At least this research I did made me trust Derek more. He was being truthful about Bart and not just telling me a story to get me off his back about my suspicions. My instincts were roaring, and my intuition was howling as loud as Josh was when he saved me that night, if it was indeed Josh.
I couldn’t go up against any monster without Derek’s help because he had a werewolf as one of his buddies. I knew I needed his help to avenge Aunt Carrie’s death and it was crucial to find the shapeshifter and kill it with Josh’s help. Besides, I could use Derek’s knowledge about the supernatural. I wouldn’t have known the first step to defeating the shapeshifter was to weaken it with silver until Derek and I discovered what indeed kills them.
I felt comfortable working with Derek on this. But I wasn’t going to let my guard down around him. If I smell any whiff of deception or find any evidence that supported my instincts, I will come after him.
10
My body was enjoying the deep slumber. My eyes were tight shut, and I was in the middle of one of the best nights of sleep I’ve ever taken in my life. But I woke up to the loud text message notification sound of my phone. It sounded off twice, notifying me that I had two text messages to look at.
I reached for the phone on the dresser to the left side of my bed. My eyes were still shut as the sun shined through the window and right into my eyelids. I groaned heavily while I tried to open them. It was like they were sewn shut. I managed to open them slightly and reached for my phone.
I expected to have the phone in my hands, but my fingers accidentally pushed the phone off the dresser. I sighed as I stretched every part of my body. I extended my arms upwards while intertwining them together and pushing them towards the ceiling. I groaned even harder than the last time as I forced myself to open my eyes and fully wake up.
I stretched my legs outwards towards the bedpost. I wound up overstretching them and felt the wrath of a severe cramp. I struggled to contain myself as the pain from the pulled muscle in my calf made me squirm in bed, trying to get this pain out of my leg. Once the Charley Horse was gone, I got out of bed and hobbled to my phone.
I still felt the pain of the cramp as I bent over and picked up my phone. I saw on the lock screen that there were two messages from Derek. My throat gave out a moan of annoyance as I reminded myself to voice my irritation with Derek the next time I see him. It was one of the most peaceful periods of sleep I’ve had, and he ruined it.
I opened my phone and went to the text message app. I opened the new messages with a furious tap of my finger, annoyed at Derek for waking me up and indirectly causing a cramp in my calf.
Derek: Hey, Ericka. I don’t know if you’re asleep or not, but I just wanted to text you and ask you if you’re up for a game of bowling today.
Derek: We didn’t get to do it before since…you know, happened. So, I was hoping that, if you’re not doing anything today, we could go bowling? What do you say?
Are you kidding me?! You wake me up with your text messages for bowling??
I yawned so many times in a row and my mind was too dull to keep count. All I wanted to do was lay in bed and go back to sleep again. It was what I thought about as I slumped against the side of my bed, trying to close my eyes and go to sleep then and there. The sun shined directly in my face. I could also feel my body starting to get the energy to emerge fully out of the eight or nine-hour sleep that I placed it under. I knew it was too late to go back to sleep at that point. I had to rise and shine.
Shit! Thanks a lot, Derek!
I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I retrieved my phone from my bed and opened it. I went to my text message app and opened Derek’s name. I replied to his text messages but not before I placed the volume on my phone way down so that the next time, I have a good night's sleep and it wouldn’t be interrupted.
Ericka: Shouldn’t we keep our focus on our secret mission of finding the shapeshifter and killing it?
I saw the three moving dots seconds later and got a new message from Derek.
Derek: We can’t look for the shapeshifter until the night of a new moon, which won’t be for another five days.
I saw the three dots again and a brand-new message from Derek.
Derek: I mean, shifters are somewhat active on most nights, regardless of the moon phase. They’re not like werewolves. But the safe bet is to wait until a new moon in five days. That way, you and I know for sure it’ll be out hunting. And then, we’ll hunt IT down.
Huh…interesting.
Ericka: Where did you get that info?
Derek: Josh.
Ericka: I shouldn’t have even asked. I should’ve known.
Derek: Yeah. Monsters are the best resources for answers about other monsters. I guess you and I are lucky?
I managed to crack a slight smile on my face. But it wasn’t a laugh of entertainment. It was a laugh of ridicule. Every time Derek mentioned Josh’s name, it was like my intuition was triggered. I couldn’t help but find it laughable that Derek kept saying Josh. Because in my instincts, I know there was no ‘Josh,’ only a lying Derek. I just needed proof. Pronto.
I was interrupted from my thoughts about Josh when Derek sent me another message, which my phone alerted me to when it made a tiny vibrating buzz.
Derek: So, are we on for bowling tonight or not? Come on, it’s not like we have anything to do while we wait for five days to come and go. It’s alright, Ericka. We can focus on our mission of hunting down the shapeshifters and still live our lives. Pllleeasseee…go bowling with me. We were supposed to that weekend when…C’mon. I really want to hang out with you.
The desperation in Derek’s messages was annoying. But he was right. I wasn’t doing anything. I could use a change in atmosphere. I looked at the screen and saw the three moving dots again. Not long afterward, Derek sent a new message.
Derek: It’s not like it’ll be a date or anything. It’ll just be two friends hanging out with each other. Besides, you could use the fresh air. You need to get out of the house and change your atmosphere.
You read my mind…
I pondered all the points Derek made. But my brain was still feeling sleepy, although not as much as before. I decided that I needed a huge breakfast to have the energy and will to do anything, let alone bowling. If I were to go bowling with the guy who my instincts told me was the real wolf, I needed to fuel in the form of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and orange juice.
I shot Derek a text back.
Ericka: I’ll let you know after breakfast.
I got a response from him a minute later.
Derek: Okay, fine. But don’t keep me waiting for too long. I would love to hang out with you.
Ericka: Yeah, I know. Me too. We’ll talk later, ‘kay?
Derek: Sure will. Bye for now.
Ericka: Byeeee.
I closed my phone and went to the bathroom to wash my face. I rummaged through my closet afterward to wear something over my gray tank top before taking off the complementary shorts. I found a pair of acid-washed skinny jeans along with a pair of black short-sleeve loose crop tees. I looked for my favorite green slip-on sneakers, and I found them lying in the corner of the bedroom. I slipped into them and walked out of my room to the kitchen.
I could smell a wave of breakfast food through my nose as soon as I walked out of my room. The aroma of freshly scrambled eggs, pancakes, and bacon floated into my nostrils. It was the smell of Heaven. At least my morning was going to be bright when I ate my favorite breakfast.
I rushed into the kitchen as the smell of the breakfast got stronger in my nose. I saw MacKayla and her mother, Victoria, in the kitchen. Mrs. Devereaux had her back to the kitchen door and I looked at the back of her shoulder-length dark brown hair. MacKayla was on her phone, sitting at the kitchen table. But when she saw me, she closed it and a wide bright smile was plastered over her face.
“Well, hello there, sleepyhead! We were wondering when you would wake up. Have a seat,” MacKayla said.
Her mother turned around and had a big smile, too. I could see the laugh lines emerge around Mrs. Devereaux’s light brown eyes and mouth as she looked at me with a kind, motherly expression plastered on her face.
“Good morning, dear. I hope you slept well.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Devereaux. I did.”
Yeah, despite the loud-ass phone I have, thanks to Derek’s text messages.
Mrs. Devereaux flashed that kind, motherly face at me one more time before turning back around and working on what looked like grilled cheese sandwiches. I looked at the table and saw a tray of the earlier things I smelled as I walked out of my room. MacKayla looked at me with that ridiculous smile she always has.
“These were getting kind of cold while you took that long-ass –”
MacKayla turned to look at her mom, not wanting to have a foul mouth near a lady with a strict no-tolerance rule for unruly language. She turned back to me and cracked a big smile again.
“That very long sleep. So, I heated them in the microwave for you. Here, they’re for you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. My stomach is growling, so I need that.”
I picked up a fork placed near the plate of eggs and started to eat them. MacKayla’s mother turned around and held a plate of about seven grilled cheese sandwiches. She set them in the middle of the kitchen table in front of me and sat down from what I inferred was a long morning of cooking breakfast.
