Gaze (✔)

Chapter Fourteen: Family Ties

Clara frowned. “I’ve been…away. Luke’s been here, though.” For the most part, she added silently.

Walt scoffed, shaking his head to this. “Not for the past week. We were supposed to be on a hunt yesterday, but -”

“What? Where the hell is he?” she demanded.

“I have no idea.” Was his unhelpful reply.

A million images rushed through her head – Luke mauled by wolves, dead in a ditch somewhere…he’d always been a little reckless. Was this how he felt when she was gone? Worry pricked at her stomach. After what he had discovered about Clara, he had probably moved again – maybe even gone away for a while. He could be stubborn, and would definitely leave the only places she could find him.

“Whatever, just give me the keys.” She said, holding out her hand. After nearly two minutes of loud noises as Walt shuffled through the dump that was his apartment, he re-emerged with the silver key, scratched from multiple – and eventually successful – attempts at sliding it onto the key-ring. Clara snatched it away from him before he could say anything else and set off down the hallway, ignoring whatever remarks he had. She had dismissed the notion of being nice to him after a few weeks of knowing the man, and wasn’t about to adopt it again.

The apartment was empty as Walt had suggested, and its usual state of cleanliness. To her careful eye, it seemed a little too clean – most likely due to Luke’s week-long absence. She shut the door gently behind her, flicking the light switch beside it. The main room lit up, presenting a more clear vision of the sparsely furnished open space.

“Luke?” she called, unsurprised when there was no response. She glanced passively over the empty room before crossing the dark wood floor to the two doors on the opposite wall. She went for Luke’s door first, pushing it open with a little effort.

Inside, she could see the outline of his closed curtains as light stabbed through the gaps, but not much else. She blindly flicked the lights on, only to find another empty room. His sheets were tidily made and only a few loose objects in sight. His closet was wide open, however, defying the theme of order in the apartment. Clara walked over and noticed that the large box that took up most of the space was flung wide open, and the shotgun which she knew had been inside was gone, along with the little pistol Luke kept beside it.

So he was on a hunt – but a week long? It was out of character for him. He wasn’t the type of person to take his time, gather information and make a calculated strike like Clara had tried – he would more likely charge in with guns blazing, and not take a week to do it. She frowned, but pushed the worry from her mind. She was overreacting.

After poking around her home for a few more minutes and discovering no signs of where her twin had gone, she wandered over to her own bedroom, breathing in the familiar scent of cheap detergent and falling asleep as her head hit the pillow.

*     *     *

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Clara questioned the pudgy, balding superintendent, narrowing her eyes with annoyance. After a few hours of sleep, she had set out again – on foot this time – to find out where her brother had gone. Despite her attempt at leaving him be, something didn’t feel right about his absence. He was mad at her, and could be doing stupid things with his anger. Her search wasn’t very productive, though. The first person she had paid a visit to had turned her away immediately after recognising her. Apparently, word had gotten around about her last mission, and he was afraid that she’d brought a pack of werewolves back on her heels to Boston.

The next was just as oblivious as Walt, and the last friend Clara knew of Luke’s was suspiciously absent, and had been for the past month, as his angered super claimed.