The True One

Chapter 15

Verity

The internet proved less than helpful. I could read all sorts of werewolf lore, learn the most effective methods for hunting them, or participate in a forum filled with people who claimed to be werewolves. Their status as legitimate shapeshifters seemed suspect at best, and none of them, werewolf or not, were like me. Nothing online when searching for psychic werewolves seemed to fit either. Maybe I wasn't using the right keywords because I had no idea what those words should be. Whatever the case, I came up with nothing but dead ends.

Thus concluded my naïve opinion that everything could be found on the internet. There must be another source of information besides the information superhighway. Maybe a backroad? A tunnel? A dirt path? I rolled over on my bed and stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. The field of white calmed my nerves but did nothing to alleviate the inevitable problem I faced. I only knew of one person who could help me.

Alek Sinclair.

I hated being reliant on him. He was too secretive, and too good at lying. And, being completely honest with myself, too damned attractive. Getting close to him raised all kinds of flags. Yet, I couldn't think of another solution. Alek had information. Alek probably knew of other people with information. It sucked, but Alek seemed to be the gravel road that I needed.

My doorbell rang. Flora entered and handed me a tiny plant in a hand painted ceramic pot. "My hen had chicks," she said. "Give it a good home."

"Not likely. I kill poor helpless things."

"This one's not helpless. It's strong. A survivor, just like you." She took it back from me and placed in on a window ledge in my kitchen. "Have Alek take care of it."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because he loves houseplants. Has a bunch."

Houseplants. He didn't seem like a houseplant type guy. "How would you know that?"

"It's called friendly conversation. Something I've had with him a time or two. You should try it."

"We converse all the time."

"I said friendly. Banter that's over fifty percent insults and hardly any flirting does not qualify."

"Are you saying you're flirting with him when you converse?"

"Relax, Verity. I'm aware he's off limits."

"Yep. No sleeping with the enemy."

"You're so dramatic. All he's ever tried to do was help you."

If only she knew the truth. I held my tongue in that regard and aimed another slight at him. "Okay, the help then."

"Stop calling him that. No one should be called that. I don't like that privileged bitch side of you. And if you think that's why he's off limits for me, you need to do some serious self-reflection."

"I was joking. As for reflection, I've done plenty of that lately."

"Verity, about that..."

"Oh, hold on." I got out my phone. "I meant to text him. I need his help."

"Isn't it his day off?"

"He'll respond."

"Not if he wants to maintain healthy boundaries."

I texted him in all caps so that he'd be more likely to take my text seriously, ergo proving my friend wrong.

Turning my attention back to Flora, she seemed hesitant to continue her train of thought. "We just got back from our trip late yesterday, so I didn't expect to see you so soon. Why are you here? Weren't you supposed to visit your mom today?"