Page 56 of Cursed Wolf

What if I just went to Vargmore myself and talked to Riley? She had said she was from Arizona, so she must have gone through something similar with Sawyer.

The thought of going back there myself made my stomach clench in knots, but I needed a sounding board. Someone to listen to everything going on in my mind, and who better than my new friend who knew exactly where I was coming from?

Hell, if I could find my way to Stout & Spirit, Shiloh would probably be a great listening ear too.

My keys were in my hand, locking the door behind me before I realized I’d arrived at a decision. Within minutes, I was on the stretch of highway that Tryn had taken me on his motorcycle just two days before.

I had a pretty good sense of direction, and while I didn’t exactly remember the off-beaten path Tryn had taken, I was confident I could remember the general area.

Well over an hour later, I was nearly tearing my hair out in frustration. Where the fuck was it?

I merged onto the freeway from the on-ramp for the third time, driving way under the speed limit to closely inspect the trees and brush alongside the road. Good thing there was little traffic way out here in the sticks.

Hugging the shoulder, I searched for that narrow, unmarked gravel road that could fit a single motorcycle or small car. The sun was going down fast, so it needed to appear to me soon or else I’d never be able to see it.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered. “Show yourself.”

A blue sports car came up fast behind me and the driver laid on their horn, clearly disapproving of my grandma highway speed, before swerving around to pass me. I ignored them, but their obnoxious LED headlights picked up something ahead that caught my eye. I pulled up to that spot and a surge of victory lifted my spirits.

Tall grasses and shrubs shielded most of the hidden road from view, but this had to be it. I flipped on my headlights and turned off the highway, heading through the forest to another world.

“I should’ve bought a Jeep,” I muttered as my car bounced and jerked on the uneven terrain. “Or a motorcycle.”

The trees blocked out most of the sunlight, and when night fell after about another hour of driving, the darkness was on another level. Unlike that night I accidentally hit Tryn, where my headlights illuminated the whole road, this darkness seemed to swallow up the weak little lights from my car.

It was then that I realized that maybe driving by myself to a hidden world where werewolves, witches, and probably other supernatural beings existed, probably wasn’t the best idea.

Tryn and I had reached Stout & Spirit after about an hour of driving on this road, but the cozy little tavern was nowhere in sight. Had I missed a turn somewhere?

I gripped the steering wheel, leaning close to the windshield to peer into the darkness. Turning around kept crossing my mind, but I didn’t want to end up more lost than I already was. If I kept going, I’d have to end up somewhere in Vargmore, right? If not, I’d still be in the sticks of northern California. Probably still in Plumas County.

I drove on, watching the road with the meager illumination thrown out by my headlights. It was the same narrow gravel path, so it had to lead somewhere.

Some time later, the gravel became a paved road, smoother and more refined. My tires almost seemed to sigh in merciful relief. I didn’t remember a paved road leading to Stout & Spirit, but I hadn’t exactly been thinking about it at the time.

The trees and brush started to thin out, revealing bright stars in the night sky. I couldn’t see the moon yet but for some reason, knowing it was out there, watching over all, gave me a sense of comfort.

The road wasn’t just paved at this point, it was pristine. Smooth and black as oil, like the asphalt had just been poured. Once the trees finally gave way to a clearing, I had to stop. My foot stomped on the brake, making the tires squeal as I stared in open-mouthed shock.

Those lights in the sky hadn’t been from stars but from buildings. Fucking skyscrapers. I was staring at what looked like the financial district of a major city.

An actual fucking city, rivaling the likes of San Francisco or Los Angeles. Out here. In the middle of nowhere.

But how?

The city closest to Fulsburg was probably Reno, and even that place was small potatoes compared to this. This place was a fucking metropolis. There was no way it could be kept hidden in the middle of nowhere.

Unless…

Unless it was hidden in the same way that Vargmore was.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, car idling in the middle of an empty road, staring at the skyscrapers, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Eventually, I lifted my foot from the brake and tapped gently on the gas, nudging the car forward. Questions flooded my mind as I approached the city like an ant to a sleeping giant.

How much of Tryn’s world was there, really? Was this the only city or were there more? Did these people know about werewolves? Where did Vargmore fit into the bigger picture, and how big was that picture? Were there enough fantastical people and places to fit a country, or even a planet, if you only knew where to look?

My entire perception of the world, existence, reason, and logic had been completely blown apart. And yet I could not stop inching forward to find out more.

There was a small turn-out area next to the road just on the outskirts of the city, and I decided to park there and keep going on foot. Being a pedestrian was pretty universal, but I didn’t know if this place had weird traffic laws or speed limits. The last thing I wanted to do was get in trouble, or an accident, because I didn’t know the laws.

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