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"Head of the council?"
"The head alpha is the leader of the council," Zane quickly elaborated when Bastian didn't, "and ultimately of all of Haven Falls. Bastian and Sophie’s uncle, Cain, is the current council head. You'll meet him eventually I’m sure.”
"He shouldn't be head," Markus grunted. "He's only in the spot he's in because-"
"I think we've said enough," Bastian interrupted what was sure to turn into a tirade.
Before he could command her to eat again, however, Katherine opened her mouth. "Why do we have to go back there? To Haven Falls, I mean? Can't we just stay in the states?"
She didn't want to leave the country – go to some place she didn't know where people thought they were fictional creatures. A colony ironically named Haven Falls that was apparently run by Bastian’s uncle – a man named after the wicked son of Adam.
"We have to go back eventually. It's our home. Besides, it best for new werewolves to be around others of their kind."
Katherine just barely bit back her immediate response, which was to deny the existence of werewolves. "But it's not my home," was what came out instead, "I don't want to go there."
Sophie shared a look with Bastian before forcing Katherine's eyes to meet hers. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you Katherine, but we are your home now."
Katherine knew if she'd responded to the blonde, she would have regretted the fierce show of emotion. So instead, she bit her tongue and forced herself to eat a few bites of her food, which had long turned cold – much like her entire body had at the prospect of considering these people her home.
She only managed to finish half the eggs and one slice of ham before her stomach threatened to protest in a violent way. Instead of nagging her, Bastian merely requested the leftovers to be packed in Styrofoam on the off chance that Katherine would find her appetite and eat the rest later.
When the others had finished and the group was on their way out of the door, Katherine was stopped by the enamored waitress who had served them. After nudging her in the side with a sharp elbow, the woman whispered in her ear. "I wouldn't let that one out of my sights if I were you, dear." It didn't take a genius to figure out she was referring to Bastian.
Uncomfortable with the woman's assumptions, Katherine quickly walked away.
Minutes later, she was ushered back into the SUV and they were on the road again.
As Bastian drove, Sophie's words repeated themselves over and over again in Katherine's head. With her parents gone, she didn't know where her home was anymore. But of one thing she was certain – it was not with them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Katherine was eight years old and her sister Samantha was thirteen, she could vaguely recall staying at a Motel 8 with her parents. Her father had gotten them lost on the way to visiting one of her mother's many eccentric aunts. Minnie was her name – though Katherine couldn’t remember if it was her given name or an unfortunate childhood nickname that had stuck.
Either way, when the sun had set and it became obvious that Benjamin had no idea where they were – let alone if they'd made it to Nebraska, where Minnie had lived at the time – he'd finally conceded defeat and pulled into the nearest motel.
The room they had been given by the motel staff had been the definition of run-down. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the lumpy mattress, peeling wallpaper, or her sister's ungodly scream when she'd discovered the hand-sized spider in the motel's rusted bath tub.
Apparently, the motels in Canada weren't built much differently than the ones in the good old U.S. of A.
Musty smell. Check. Suspicious stains on the carpet. Check. Strange paintings hanging from the walls. Check.
While Sophie had protested as soon as Bastian had pulled into the motel's parking lot, Katherine had kept her mouth firmly shut and she wasn't about to open it to complain now.
In the SUV, her reasoning had been that she was tired, her body ached, and she honestly didn't think she could spend another minute being stuck in the same enclosed space as Markus. The man positively infuriated Katherine. However, even she would admit that there was a silver lining to his blatant dislike of her – it made for a wonderful distraction. It kept Katherine angry and she'd much rather feel anger than the grief that she knew was lurking underneath.
Still, Katherine needed a break from the man and wasn’t about to ruin her chances of that by complaining about the dingy room. At least, not out loud anyway.
So, reminding herself that staying at the motel was better than sleeping in the SUV again, Katherine retreated to a corner of the room, where she could lean comfortably against a wall and ignore the others' loud chatter.
Markus had plopped down on one of the beds as soon as Bastian had jimmied the door to their room open. He was engaged in a boisterous conversation with Sophie, who had sat in an uncomfortable looking chair next to the room's small desk. Caleb was sitting quietly beside her on a similar chair and Zane was on the phone, apparently making good on his promise to order some hamburgers as soon as they'd gotten a room.
Bastian, after thoroughly inspecting the room, had relaxed on the bed opposite Markus. Her eyes followed his movements as he set his car keys on the night stand. If only she could find a way to snatch them. But Katherine wasn't stupid. She knew that there was no way she could outmaneuver five people who were indefinitely stronger – and probably faster – than she was.
Tearing her eyes away from the keys, Katherine took a moment to really look at Bastian. Even sitting, his form seemed so solid. His black hair was in a state of disarray. That, combined with the brightness of his eyes made him look wild – almost feral really. And for a second, Katherine could almost make herself believe that he... well, that he was...
"Hey princess!"
Tensing at the disrespectful nickname that the jerk had been insistent upon calling her for the past two days, Katherine turned her attention towards Markus. "What?" she spat back at him.
Rolling his hazel eyes, the man gestured towards Zane, who was staring at her expectantly. "He just wanted to know how you liked your burgers."
Ignoring the heat spreading across her cheeks, Katherine managed a nonchalant shrug. "Lot of pickles," she muttered. "Oh, and rare I guess."
Markus gave her a knowing look at that particular specification. The raised eyebrows practically begged for the brunette to smack the man. So what? What did it matter if she liked her meat bloody? That didn’t prove anything – certainly not that she was some mythical creature.
Turning away before she actually did give in to the urge to hit him, Katherine examined the painting on the wall nearest to her.
It was a portrait of a woman in a lacy, off-white gown. She appeared to belong in the eighteenth – maybe nineteenth – century. The painting itself was done well Katherine supposed, but the way the woman's dark eyes – dead eyes – peered out at her made it impossible for her to look at it for long.
"Are you going to sit?"
Katherine spared a glance at Bastian, who was observing her from his spot on the bed. In response to his question, she looked pointedly at the chairs of the room – both of which were occupied. Even sitting, she wasn't about to share a bed with Markus and Zane. Or Bastian.
"Where?" Katherine demanded, ignoring the way the man's eyes flickered to the empty spot next to him.
Before he could suggest where she should sit, however, Sophie had leapt from her chair and linked her elbow through Katherine's. The woman ushered her to the bathroom door. "I'm sure you could use a shower, honey. You haven't had the chance to clean up since... well, in a while anyway."
Thankful for the opportunity to escape Bastian's observant eyes – at least for a few minutes – Katherine immediately agreed and practically slammed the door in the helpful blonde's face.
She took a moment to savor the feeling of being alone before turning towards the mirror. She wasn't able to withhold the gasp that escaped her when she saw her reflection.
Her chocolate-colo
red hair was a dark and greasy tangle. Her face was smudged with dirt and grime. And a large bruise had blossomed half-way across her forehead.
Looking as she did, she could hardly believe she had been let into the diner they'd stopped at earlier. But she supposed she had been practically hidden behind Bastian the whole time she was there.
It wasn't her filthy appearance that most bothered Katherine, however. It was her eyes. In the past week, they'd gained a certain gleam – a sparkle. Which was now noticeably absent. They looked murky again – dead. Disturbingly similar to the woman's in the portrait.
Tearing her eyes away from her reflection in disgust, Katherine quickly stripped off her clothes – a pair of sweatpants and an over-sized shirt.
She hadn't even noticed that she'd been changed out of the sullied clothes Bastian and the others had found her in until earlier that day, shortly after they'd stopped at Betty's Diner. But she supposed that she had more pressing matters on her mind at the time. Like the idea of werewolves. Like the death of her parents. Katherine swatted those thoughts away.
Still, she’d been distressed when she had found out that Sophie had undressed her during her first stint of unconsciousness – and in the SUV in front of the others no less. But the blonde had insisted that she hadn't let the men see anything. And she guessed that that was the least of her worries anyway.
Once unclothed, Katherine carefully examined her body and was surprised by the lack of bruises or other wounds. Besides the purple lump on her forehead and a few cuts on her knees, the only noticeable discolorations on her body were the four small puncture marks on her ankle from when that wolf – not a werewolf, just an ordinary wolf– had bitten her on Miller Road.
Forcing herself to concentrate on the task at hand, Katherine laid a couple of white towels – those small ones provided by all motels – on the rack next to the shower before stepping into the bath tub. The cold porcelain immediately caused her skin to erupt into goose bumps, but the tub was surprisingly clean. Pristine really. No spiders, anyway.
Adjusting the metal knobs, Katherine turned on the water and quickly cranked the faucet labeled hot when a cold spray erupted from the shower head. In a few moments, the water was near scalding, but it felt good on her aching body and Katherine couldn't be bothered to adjust it.
Quickly locating the shampoo and conditioner provided by the motel, she emptied the tiny bottles. She scrubbed her scalp with both, anxious to get her long locks clean. Once finished, she chose to forego the cheap razor altogether and unpackaged the unscented bar of soap she had spotted while conditioning her hair. She scrubbed her body until her skin began to tingle – though she still felt unclean.
She stood under the hot water for a while longer after that, her mind pleasantly blank.
She refused to acknowledge that some of the droplets of water rolling down her cheeks were silent tears and not the water from the showerhead.
Twenty minutes later, Katherine finally found the will power to turn off the water and step out of the tub. She used one towel to quickly dry her body – she noticed immediately how red her skin was from the hot water – and the other to wrap up her dripping hair. She was reaching down to grab the pair of sweatpants she'd shedded a half hour earlier when she heard the voices coming from the other room. She wasn't surprised – motel walls were notoriously thin – but the words themselves gave her pause.
"-don't even understand why we're bothering with her. She's nothing but a spoiled brat."
It was Markus, once again complaining about her. He’d said similar things to her face, but she was a little surprised that he was also spouting off insults behind her back. She actually felt somewhat hurt.
"Her attitude has been atrocious."
And there was Zane chiming in. Katherine couldn’t say she was surprised. His condescending attitude thus far had made it clear that he didn't particularly like her either.
"Oh? And you two have been perfect gentlemen? Please. You calling that girl out on her attitude is laughable."
It seemed that Sophie, at least, was sticking up for her and Katherine couldn’t help but feel a twinge of gratefulness towards the blonde.
Caleb spoke up next – in what was perhaps the sternest voice she’d heard from the seemingly timid man. "At least she has an excuse for her unfriendly disposition. Being attacked by those hunters and then again by those men at the gas station, and now this huge, life-changing revelation."
The death of her family, Katherine mentally added to the list. She clenched her fists tightly as a spasm of anguish rocked her body at the traitorous reminder.
"What's your excuse?" she heard Caleb demand and she forced the pain to the deepest recesses of her mind. She didn’t want to think about them – her parents.
"Are you trying to say that our lives haven't been effected by this? Bite me."
"Too late!" she heard Markus mock loudly in response to Zane's comment. "Bastian's already bitten her!"
“Precisely, and it's changed everything for us."
"Would you two shut your mouths?" she heard Sophie explode. "For God’s sake, we don't even know if... well, if she'll even..." Katherine pressed her ear to the bathroom door, but couldn't make out the rest of the woman's words as her voice trailed off weakly.
"An even better reason to ditch her – to let her find her way back home!"
"Her home is in shambles! Besides, I told her earlier that we are her home now. And I meant it."
"Oh please, she doesn't even want to be here!"
"Shut up, Markus!"
"And we don't want her here either! So what's the problem?"
We don't want her. Katherine could feel her stomach flip as the words reached her ears, but she refused to identify the feeling in her gut as hurt. After all, what right did she have to be upset when everything Markus and Zane said was true? She didn’t want to be here with them. And they... well, they'd made it clear that they didn't want her around either. That was just fine with her. If everything went her way, she’d be gone come morning anyway.
"Stop." Even Katherine's thoughts obeyed and ceased at the command. She couldn't prevent the shiver of something from rushing through her body at the sound of Bastian’s low timbre.
"I think we've all put up with your vulgar mouth for long enough Markus. It doesn't matter if you don't want her here. It doesn't matter if I don't want her here."
This time, Katherine couldn’t deny that the words stung – hit her hard where her heart was supposed to be. But after a moment, she was able to brush the comment off and concentrate on an emotion more productive than hurt – anger.
"No amount of yelling and complaining, from you – or her for that matter – will change what has been done. She stays. That's it."
Bastian’s words sounded final, but Katherine still waited for more protests from Markus. When only the quiet sound of the television met her ears, however, Katherine backed away from the flimsy bathroom door and quickly dressed.
Looking for an excuse to remain in the privacy of the bathroom at least for a few minutes longer, she searched the cabinet under the sink and found some travel- sized toothpaste. She squirted some onto her finger and used it as a tool to rub the mint concoction against her teeth. Avoiding looking into the mirror, even as fogged with steam as it was, she rinsed and spit. Then, taking a deep breath to compose herself, she stepped out of the bathroom.
She saw that a chair was now available – Caleb was currently sitting on the same bed as Markus and Zane, none of the trio looking too happy about it. Deciding not to question it, she immediately made her way towards the open seat.
Before she’d taken more than two steps, however, Bastian was in front of her, inspecting her critically.
"Why is your skin so red?"
Katherine used her hands to try to cover up the exposed skin of her arms. "The water was hot," she mumbled before stepping around him.
Her back was turned so she couldn’t see how the man frowned at her answer, but his tone o
f voice made it obvious that he was displeased with it. "And what? You didn't notice it scalding your skin?"
Katherine rolled her eyes as she settled herself into the chair, but managed to withhold the sarcastic response that was on the verge of escaping her lips.
"You need to learn to be more careful," Bastian continued despite her silence.
"Or what?" Katherine snapped. "You'll send someone in to supervise?"
A tinge of red spread across the man’s face, but Katherine couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. Maybe a combination of both. "Don't think I won't," he threatened under his breath.
Katherine pretended not to hear. In fact, she spent the next few minutes trying to drone out all of their voices. She refrained from socializing except for a small “thank you” when Caleb answered the door for the delivery man and handed her one of the hamburgers that Zane had ordered.
Although the thought of food still didn't appeal to her, she couldn't resist devouring the entire sandwich within minutes when it’s delicious scent hit her nose. She ignored the look she got from Bastian – though judging by his expression, he was just pleased to see her eating.
As the others ate and chatted, Katherine silently observed them. They all seemed so content. Even Caleb, who Katherine noticed was picked on by Markus and Zane whenever they weren't targeting her, seemed happy. Bastian, perhaps, was the only melancholy one. He was a brooder, Katherine supposed. She knew that a lot of woman probably liked that about him. He was the embodiment of tall, dark, and mysterious after all. Not to mention handsome.
All of them were good-looking.
So good looking in fact that a rampant thought of how they could all still be single crossed Katherine's mind before she forced herself to remember that they were all insane.
But were they really?
Why would anyone make up the existence of werewolves? A whole society of them with leadership and rules and all of that?
Knowing that her thoughts were headed into dangerous territory, Katherine forced herself to concentrate on the television.