The Deaths of Me (NEW ADULT REWORK)

7. Rory's Lonely Stroll

If the Phone Doesn't Ring, It's Me

--Song title by Jimmy Buffett

Rory ambled down the street on her second day of living with the Grey Wolf pack, the pads of her feet scuffing against the concrete. Large but not lavish houses lined the road. Some were blue, others yellow, but most of them were gray. The gray houses, she'd been told, were the safe houses for lycanthropes that belonged to the Grey Wolf pack. It was easy to tell them apart from the human homes anyway, because those were the liveliest houses. Light poured from the windows, interrupted frequently by a passing body or two. Many of the inhabitants lounged on the porches, laughing and playing games.

Rory felt a tightness in her chest as she recognized her own envy at their sense of family. She didn't have that anymore. With a dead guardian, a martyred mother, and an absentee father, Rory felt like she was grasping at ghosts when it came to family. The only thing that remained was her sense of obligation to the Underdwellers. They had all sounded so happy when she'd been presented to them. Her uncle had told her that she'd make a difference to the Covenant one day, but she'd never expected anything of that magnitude. And, she certainly hadn't expected it so soon.

Her first night in the custody of Shep and Dane McDermitt had been interesting, to say the least. Apparently, being the legendary phoenix made her the center of attention for every grey wolf in the neighborhood. Four dozen or so lycans had swarmed the house as soon as the sun set into a beautiful autumn rainstorm. They knocked on the door and pleaded with the McDermitt brothers to just let them touch her. Both of the brothers kept the house after dinner empty except for the three of them. Rory was more than grateful.

The room they'd given her was the middle room that sat tucked between the two brothers' rooms. A pale yellow daybed by a large window overlooked the backyard and tapered into the woods where the wolves would run. A myriad of quilts and crocheted blankets waited to be needed in a brown wicker basket next to the bed. Old newspapers occupied the room's only chair, bold headlines shouting last year's news. The room itself felt forgotten, with its bare walls and empty dresser, even though it looked freshly dusted and tidied. It smelled nothing like Dane, and that disappointed her a bit.

After dinner, Shep had left to assist a new were-ling a few houses down, and Dane had headed straight to bed. They'd both stressed that they'd be close if she needed them, but after midnight, the house was silent.

Though she hadn't slept in a bed of her own since she'd been taken, she couldn't make sleep come, so she'd wandered aimlessly around the house until dawn crept up on her. She became familiar with the new wood banisters that still smelled of polish. The floors shone the same way. She wondered if they had cleaned in anticipation of her arrival, or just lived impeccably. There were no family photos anywhere in the house. There was no artwork at all. Furniture sat ominously around the house like it had never been moved or even used. It was a stark contrast from the patio, where all of the chairs were worn in or broken. She worried that the Covenant had sent all new decorations and advised the pack to hide their sentimental valuables, just in case she accidentally burned anything.

A small boy with bright gray eyes ran past her to a neighboring safe-house, jarring her out of her reverie. Rory smiled as the sound of his unabashed laughter gave way to the sound of the swelling winds. The fact that the wolves had found a way to keep themselves hidden in plain sight was a pleasant surprise for Rory. The Covenant bought multiple houses for each clan in various neighborhoods within their jurisdiction and allowed members to reside there peacefully. This particular neighborhood was gated and tight with security, which was probably why they'd allowed her to stay. Briefly, Rory pondered on what Ivy's home would look like.

The lycans had been nothing but accommodating, but she was still viewed as an outsider. It showed in their side-long stares and hushed tones. Walking alone suited Rory fine. She had not expected to be coddled with friendship after her trip to see the Council.

Dane, however, seemed apt to remain next to her for the duration of her stay. Though after weeks of solidarity and pain, it was somewhat difficult to bond or joke with anyone. She'd been hoping to spend the first shift with the girl vampire, Ivy. At least at her place, she wouldn't have to worry about being watched over like a hawk. If anything, the snappy vampire just struck her as generally annoyed and dark. Rory figured she wouldn't have to do anything social or strenuous with Ivy.

It was a wonder she'd managed to slip away for this long. An entire twenty minutes to herself. Guilt nagged at her gut and reminded her that she wouldn't want to worry Dane or Shep or any of the other lycans. She sighed and pivoted on the heels of her feet to head back to her designated house—Dane's house. It was the largest, and Rory figured it was because Dane's brother was the alpha of the Grey Wolves.

"Rory!" came a deep voice from somewhere to her right. Rory turned to look, knowing it would either be Dane or Shep, since they were the only wolves who actually called her by her preferred name. She came to a gradual stop and smiled tersely at Dane when he approached. "I've been looking for you." His ragged breath made his light Irish accent lilt in awkward places.

"Sorry," she said as she finally caught his gaze.

His eyes were the color of the mountains in North Carolina where she'd grown up. They even had the hint of green in them like the trees that basked in the sun along the gray ridges. He was unmistakably handsome in a way that distracted her sometimes. His face was all angles: a hard, cutting jawline, a set of square eyebrows, and a plank of a nose that bordered on large. But his body was the opposite. It was more artistic, like someone had drawn him in a hazy dream-like state--all swooping lines and spirals. His muscles coiled and rolled under the skin of his arms, waved across his stomach, and arced over his shoulders.

"I was just getting acquainted with the neighborhood," she blurted. Her gaze involuntarily ran over his form before meeting his shining gray eyes. "Werewolves in the suburbs, who would have thought?" she joked awkwardly.

Rory realized that she was both gawking and rambling, and tried to grab ahold of the situation. "Did you need me for something?" Her throat felt uncomfortably dry. His knowing smile only made her face grow hotter.

"Yes." He didn't continue for a long time, and Rory felt her heart stampeding across her rib-cage. There was a mischievous shine in his eyes that had Rory's fingers curling and uncurling.

"But that can wait till later. Right now, I'm going to run an errand for Shep. Want to come?" The breeze pushed his dark bangs away from his face and effectively stole Rory's breath. All she could muster was a stiff nod. Dane's easy smile broadened. "Great, then. You'll need some shoes."