Howl - Brieanna Boyce (free novel 24 TXT) 📗

me and I can’t see them… my brother… my father…I faked my death so I could run away so that I could protect them. I suppose you think I’m being ungrateful…in all honesty I am. I’ve done nothing but lose… people I’ve helped only get hurt.”

Jesse pet my hair Lestat sighed, “It is hard especially for ones such as yourself who do not enjoy the hunt.”

“People aren’t animals they’re more evolved and so are we! We have gifts of speed, strength, intelligence and beauty… we are above this. There are other ways to survive.”

Lestat’s jaw clenched but Jesse looked sympathetic and compassionate, I sighed and felt all my emotion pool down around my feet, I let my breathing and mind calm itself until I was numb than I went back to my room and laid on my back staring at the ceiling. I closed my eyes and imagined Kale’s warm strong arms around me his eyes turning to sweet sympathetic honey and I couldn’t fight the smile that tugged on the corners of my lips. He was my salvation even if he wasn’t here.


Kale
We were going to the warehouse as usual, trying to train everybody. Each individual held their own weaknesses and strengths. Derek’s strength is his strength, but Derek’s weakness was in form. Gerard’s strength is countering, his weakness is his stamina. Meg’s strength and her weakness were both her emotion and Jason’s quick thinking was his strength while physically his actual strength was fairly weak. Me? My weakness was the love I had for my pack, it was also my strength. Without them I feel life would not have much meaning. Although, since Skylar left I haven’t felt the same happiness and I couldn’t help wondering. Does she think of me to? To say I missed her would be an understatement. It was bordering on an obsession really every time something happened I thought “Would she like this? Would she hate that?” The whole pack seemed different, Gerard and Jason were more quiet and reserved, and Meg was moodier and with no one to bicker with her attitude went unchecked. Derek was more serious and was less joking… the biggest change is in me though. I talk only to give orders, I’m somewhat bitter and I am always at least partially distracted. No one will tell me so, in truth they all somewhat fear me although they have no reason for I hold their safety above my own, I suppose it was just part of being alpha male but Skylar didn’t fear me, not even the night I’d changed her and killed those vampires in front of her. Yet that night she’d told her brother to leave, made him in fact while she stood there bleeding heavily from the neck and the head. Then she turned and petted my head smiling, she had every reason to fear us, most people would but she didn’t. She chose to change into one of us. Of course after she did she traveled with us for awhile, Skylar was one of us, but she wasn’t at the same time. Secretly she was still part vampire, she still craved blood and drank it but she didn’t kill any humans, she drank from vampires. Yet while she was killing vampires she was also with that damned leech Tristan. She ran away with no explanation and I found her in a quiet beach town a few months later. That’s when she told me that she drank blood that she had never really dated Gerard which, admit ably made me somewhat relieved. She had every right to fear though; I dared not to tell the others, it could be our secret; me and Skylar’s. When I left she was crying, I had to hold back tears myself, she’d once again rejected me, why didn’t I understand that? “She is your mate, she is yours, take her.” I rubbed my head frustrated according to Skylar this was another thing we shared. Our wolf guides plagued us; mine was protective, a bit harsh, and very possessive. I rubbed my head, part of me wanted to listen, but Skylar was too good for that I wouldn’t treat her like my property. She didn’t like me, she liked that vampire… I didn’t understand why he was practically emotionless, cold; he didn’t seem to even care whether she stayed or went. “He is a leech she only likes him because she’s known him her whole life.” I could treat her better, protect her more… but no if she was going to be with me it would be her choice.

Meg gasped, horrified eyes wide, “Kale!”

Derek’s eyebrow raised, “What the hell?”

We could all smell it, the place reeked of blood, the scent trail went into the back so I followed to the back of the warehouse, the scent of rotting was strong. We all quickly dug up the earth and found four bodies. 3 of them vampires, 1 of them an unfortunate human boy who’s head was completely torn off from his body. Everyone else looked at each other in horror and dismay but I hardly could acknowledge them or the state of the bodies because I noticed something they didn’t. The bodies had the same scent as Skylar. “She’s your mate and she’s part vampire.”

“Dig the bodies back up,” I ordered, they all stared at me eyes wide in shock.

“Shouldn’t we try to see who did this?” Derek said eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“I know who did it.”

Meg’s eyes went wide, “who?!”

“A friend,” was all I said and I turned walking away, “bury the bodies I’ll take care of the rest.”
I hoped it wasn’t Skylar, she said she didn’t kill humans. Her scent was undeniable... Wherever she was I knew at least for now she was safe.

I left the others, I knew they were scared they thought we were dealing with a dangerous vampire, in a sense we were. Skylar wasn’t dangerous to us, but she was clearly dangerous to vampires… and possibly humans. I shook that thought away Skylar was different than them. She wouldn’t hurt an innocent human.

I followed her scent and found it mingled with others, her scent was somewhat floral, it reminds me of lilies of the valley and clovers… the scent that was familiar with my childhood… before this life. Being a werewolf wasn’t terrible… but it was a life of hiding, of sadness, blood, and eventually death. I’d lost my mother to vampires… She’d been murdered by them… I watched them kill her when I was twelve… I remember getting hit badly and some chaos in the background and then blackness. When I woke up I was surrounded by bodies, one or two were unfamiliar to me, and one of them was the tall, pale body of my mother. She lied motionless her soft brown eyes frozen in shock and horror. Her lips were parted as if she’d wanted to say something, but I would never know what that was. Suddenly, a hand reached out to me, a hand twice the size of a normal hand, the nails were chewed to the quick the hair on it was a carroty orange and the pale skin there was dotted with the most freckles I’d ever seen on a human being.

I looked up the man towered over me, his large frame even larger than that of a normal man, he sported a genuine warm smile one that was surprising considering his intimidating looks. The mop on his head had the same carrot shade as the hair on the man’s arms. His face was sun-beaten and his eyes had a brown and warm sympathetic glow. “I know this all must be scary and overwhelming to you but you’ll be okay… life won’t be the same, but I’ll help you.” He walked me out of the house and I looked back to see my mother one last time…

The man brought me back to his home with two other strangers. One was a black woman, very beautiful; she had long nails and long hair. Large doe eyes and plump lips, that leads to a long neck and curvaceous body. She worked long and hard for her beauty she could be (somewhat like Meg) very vain. She wasn’t without her strengths though, she, very much like the man who found me was sympathetic. For reasons I than couldn’t understand, every time she looked at me she smiled sadly.

The other man looked about thirty, half his body was scarred and an angry red. He usually wore a scowl on his face, I’d often wondered if it was because he was in pain. Whatever the case he never seemed happy, he was harsh and unlike the other two my age and my circumstance did not earn me any sympathy. I had to work for his approval. The first night I was brought to their home he looked at me, than the man with the orange hair and said, “Why did you even bother with him? He will die.”

The man with the orange hair frowned, “He would’ve died if I had not found him.” The man kneeled next to me smiling his brown eyes twinkling and a smile lighting his face, “My name’s O’Leary,” he pointed to the woman, “this is Shawna,” than he pointed to the half burned man, “and this is Cyrus, don’t worry he’s a grouch but he’s harmless.” Cyrus grunted and looked away clearly not happy with O’Leary’s description of him. Shawna just smiled and rest her hand on my head, “it’s all gonna be alright sweetpea you just come with me and I’ll show you off to bed.”

I followed her quietly into a room, the room that became mine. She tucked me in and pet my head gently, that was the first time in the whole evening I talked. “Shawna… Do you think mom is in heaven?” Shawna nearly cried, I couldn’t see it the room was too dark but her soft voice broke. “I do. What’s your name?” I was born with the name Christian Anderson but instead I answered, “Kale, my name’s Kale.” From that moment on Kale was my name, in a way it made the whole thing a lot easier. It seemed that although I was still young when all this happened that I knew there would be a drastic change in the course of my life. So it only made sense my name, being a huge part of my previous identity was the first thing to go.

Shawna during the day up until lunch would tutor me, in all things, History, English, Math, Science, she was a more interesting teacher than any I’d had before her because unlike most teachers she loved going into detail, and no matter what I was studying she tried her best to make it interesting for me. She also baked; it was surprising really how amazing her domestic skills were especially considering she took so much pride in her appearance it was kind of a shame since she had so much more to offer…

Than in the afternoon after studying with Shawna I had to train with Cyrus which was particularly scary. I remember sometimes after doing a lot of push -ups I’d collapse and cry. Unlike Shawna and O’Leary Cyrus showed absolutely no restraint, as if he was training a twenty year old rather than a 12 year old. I remember after a particularly grueling day with him I decided to be a smart mouth. “I can’t run anymore. Why are you making me? You’re a devil aren’t you? Look at you you’re hideous of course you are you’re a monster.” For the first time that day he’d had nothing to say to me. I