Page 18 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
Charlene grinned. “Don’t laugh, okay? But it stands for the Occult Lovers Society. We meet and talk about weird goings-on, urban legends that may be true. Just stuff like that.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry. I know you asked me not to, but that’s so silly.”
“Anyway,” Charlene said, not acknowledging my comment, “I figured after the funeral, and how you looked so overwhelmed, that maybe some food and caffeine would be welcome.”
“It is,” I said, reaching across to squeeze her hand in thanks. “It really is. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t. It’s fine,” she said, opening the brown bag. “Now let’s eat.”
We dug in. Charlene had brought bagels and cream cheese, hash brown patties, some scones, muffins and even a pair of jelly-stuffed powdered donuts to top it all off.
“You know,” I said later from around a mouthful of delicious donut, “I’m just learning this, but it seems my grandmother was a part of darn near everything in this town. The church, your club—”
“Society,” Charlene corrected immediately.
I blinked, surprised at her insistence. “Sorry. Your society. Then there’s the local historical society, and she even had her fingers in with the bingo regulars. I bet you there’s more I don’t even know of!”
Charlene laughed. “Probably.”
“The clubs must be fun. Societies, sorry,” I corrected at a stern look that quickly melted away. “Grandma wouldn’t stand boredom, that’s for sure. Maybe I’ll have to check them out. See what they have to say about her.”
“Sounds like a good idea. I can go with you.”
“Maybe they can help explain to me why she wrote me a letter dated after she died. Would be nice to have some answers instead of questions.”
“What?” Charlene leaned forward.
I told her about the letter and its warning. “Does that make any sense to you?”
“No.”
“Yeah, same. All this talk about the forest. There’s more in a journal she left for me too. I don’t get it. Everyone says she was still sound in the head but … this doesn’t match what people are saying. And that is definitely her handwriting, I’d recognize it anywhere.”
“And what is this guardian?”
“I don’t know,” I said, staring bleakly into the cup of coffee.
A wolf’s head peered back up at me out of the dark brown liquid.
One eye blue. One eye gold.
Chapter Eight
Sylvie
“Sylvie?”
I jerked my head up, breaking the gaze of the imaginary wolf in my coffee. “Yeah, sorry. What’s up?”
Charlene stared back at me, her blue-green eyes soft and open. “Everything okay? You were staring into your coffee. Most people drink it, you know.”
“Just been a long twenty-four hours. That’s all,” I assured her, glancing down only briefly before taking a deep sip.
The wolf’s eyes were gone.
“I understand. Umm, do you want me to go? I don’t want to intrude, but if you need some time alone.”
“No, no,” I protested, quickly waving her back into her seat. “Not at all. I just got distracted, that’s all. The company is appreciated, but don’t let me keep you from work or anything.”
