Chapter 2 Sydney

Chapter 2 Sydney

 

 

I hadn’t recovered from Uncle Sam’s revelation…insane rant, rather when my back hit the wall. I gasped against the shock and pain. My uncle had moved so fast I didn’t realize he’d attacked until he had my collar in his fists and was snarling at me.

Maybe it was because I was accustomed to his bouts of temper that I recovered from my shock so quickly and was able to think. He said Louisiana. Aunt Lydia mentioned New Orleans in our strange conversation when she’d called earlier. She told me to go there if something happened to her. Then she was dead. She hadn’t just been senselessly ranting after all. I was really afraid now. What was going on?

“I don’t understand,” was all I could get out.

Uncle Sam shoved me a little harder. “Lydia is dead because your mother got her involved in her shifter nonsense.”

“What the hell is a shifter?” I asked.

He grunted. “I told Lydia to tell you what you were when you were old enough and send you on your way, but she insisted on keeping you shielded from that world. Look what it got her. They found out where you were, and that’s why she’s dead.”

“Who found me? The shifters?” I couldn’t believe I was playing into this nonsense, but Uncle Sam seemed to believe the madness he was spewing. Maybe if I played along, he’d calm down.

He huffed, released me, and slammed his palm against the wall beside my head. I flinched, thinking it was me he hit for a second. He shoved his fingers through his hair, glanced at Aunt Lydia again, and turned back to me. There was unadulterated hatred gleaming in his eyes. “You’re a half-werewolf shifter, which is why I’ve always despised you. Your kind killed my parents when I was just a boy.”

Uncle Sam got this faraway look on his face as if he was reliving the memory. “We’d gone on a camping trip, and our tent was attacked in the night. The police passed it off as a random wild animal attack. But I know what I saw that night. A wolf turning into a man after he tore my parents to shreds. I was only spared because the freak got distracted by something.”

My mouth hung open, listening to his tale.

“No one believed me when I told them what I saw. They all thought I was a traumatized little boy. But I vowed that I’d uncover the truth about the supernatural. That’s how Lydia and I got involved. We met in a paranormal chat group. But our views on the supernatural differed. I thought all inhuman creatures should burn.”

Disdain resonated in his tone.

“But Lydia thought shifters and all other freaks of nature were miraculous. That’s how she ended up in New Orleans. She befriended a wolf shifter, your mother. Eager to learn all she could about that world, she followed her new friend to Louisiana. When your mother was murdered, Lydia took you and hid you here.”

My heart thumped against my rib cage. It was hard to process everything I heard.

“I’d been indulgent with Lydia’s chase of the paranormal until she showed up here with you,” Sam said. “A creature I hated with every fiber of my being.”

He took a step closer to me, and I thought he’d attack again, but he only pointed a threatening finger. “Lydia isn’t here to stop me from killing you. I’ve always wanted to squeeze that scrawny neck of yours until the light vanishes from your eyes.”

I gulped but held his gaze.

“You’d better leave now and never let me see you again.”

Lips pursed to stop them from trembling, and I shook my head. “I’m not leaving Aunt Lydia like this.” She deserved to have her death investigated and have a proper funeral.

“I said she was nothing to you,” Sam snarled. “I can take care of her. I want you out of my life, you atrocity.”

Not that I was eager to stay anywhere near Sam, but “I don’t have anywhere to go.” This had been my home for as long as I could remember. Aunt Lydia even insisted I continued living here until I graduated college.

“I don’t care.” Uncle Sam turned away and walked over to Aunt Lydia. “I hope they find you out there and rid this world of you.”

I stared at his back as he grabbed a blanket—Aunt Lydia’s favorite one—from the back of a chair and threw it over her body. My last memory of my beloved aunt—who apparently wasn’t really related to me—was of her lying in a lifeless heap on the floor, covered by her blood. The horrifying image would haunt me forever.

I took slow steps toward the only family I had left. “Uncle Sam, please—”

“Get out.”

It was the deadly calmness of his tone that stopped me. I knew he’d strike if I got any closer. There was no way I could stay here with the man who hated the very air I breathed. With Aunt Lydia gone, I no longer had a home here.

Still reeling emotionally, I inched toward the box hidden under the sofa. Memories of Uncle Sam knocking me on my ass for the simplest things made me afraid to make any sudden movements. He was still staring at my aunt’s covered body, so he didn’t see me grab the box and hurry to the door.

I took one last look over my shoulder before I left.

***

Guilt ate away at my very soul. I ran—left Aunt Lydia lying on the floor. Had Sam even called the police? Would she get any justice? I let out the sob I’d be holding back since I left home my former home.

I now sat in a seedy motel room with thread-bare carpeting and questionably clean sheets, feeling utterly lost and terrified. I didn’t have much money since everything I made from my part-time job at a coffee house went to paying for school. So, crashing at motels long-term was out of the question. I couldn’t afford to pay rent anywhere, either. I didn’t know what move to make.

So, I resorted to thinking about the one person who always brought me comfort. Aunt Lydia. Now that I was calmer, I replayed everything that had happened this afternoon in my head, hoping to make sense of it all. My conversation with Lydia right before I found her body had been confusing.

She’d called as soon as I stepped out of my last class. She’d sounded out of breath and panicked.

“Sydney, I need you to listen to me. It isn’t safe for you here anymore. If something happens to me, find the Moon Guardian Pack in New Orleans. They’re your mother’s pack.”

I’d shoved aside my shock that she mentioned my mother to laugh. “Pack? Aunt Lydia, have you been overindulging in wine again?”

“Sydney, this is no laughing matter,” she reprimanded. “Only your mother’s people can properly protect you.” She sighed. “I tried; Lord knows I did. I tried to honor your mother’s last wish to keep you safe, keep you hidden from that dangerous world, but I couldn’t do it forever. I’m sorry, Sydney. I’ve always loved you like my own daughter.”

That was the moment I stopped laughing. The genuine fear and regret in my aunt’s voice drew me up short. I’d known something was seriously wrong with her then and had rushed home instead of going to work.

The Moon Guardian Pack. My mother’s people.

It was one of the few times she brought up my mother, whom I thought was her sister all this time. The only information Aunt Lydia shared about my birth parents when I was old enough was that they’d died when I was only two years old. She adopted me after that.

But werewolf pack? No way. There was no such thing.

However, after Sam’s rant about werewolves, I was inclined to believe Lydia hadn’t just been talking nonsense because she was distressed. If they both believed in supernatural creatures, maybe it was true…

“No. Absolutely not.” Still, my voice echoing in the quiet room held a tinge of doubt.

What I needed to do was figure out how to alert the police about my aunt’s murder without Sam knowing it was me. He was hell-bent on not involving the authorities.

I also needed to figure out the trajectory of my future. I’d probably have to drop out of school to save every cent I made to afford to rent an apartment. Rubbing my tired eyes, I blew out a long breath and glanced at the backpack I’d had time to grab when Sam ran me out of the house. I’d only been able to throw a few pieces of clothes and other necessities in there. My gaze shifted to the box lying beside the bag.

I couldn’t do it, couldn’t focus on my life when my aunt’s had been taken. The picture of her lying on her office floor was too much. Aunt Lydia was my whole world.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there gazing into space, finally processing that she was really gone. When I snapped out of my stupor, I reached for the mysterious box and opened it. I immediately got lost in the contents. There were pictures and letters written by Aunt Lydia and my mother, Sophia, to each other. I picked up a photo and stared at a blonde woman with the most gorgeous hazel eyes. My fingers slid over her image reverently. This was the first I’d gotten such a good look at her. She was beautiful. There were a few pictures of her and Aunt Lydia side by side, smiling. I spotted a necklace and picked it up to examine it. It was gold with a crescent moon pendant. It must have been my mother’s because I saw it around her neck in one of the pictures.

Smiling, I put it around my neck and struggled to close the clasp. The pendent nestled between my breasts, and it comforted me a little. Next, I moved on to the letters. They were between my mom and Lydia when they were in different states, it seemed. They’d become close, with Sophia teaching her friend about the shifter world.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. Could it all really be true?

Did I really have a family in New Orleans? Well, sort-of-family. My mother wasn’t related to her group by blood, but still, they were her people. I nibbled on a fingernail, contemplating doing what Lydia said—find the Moon Guardian Pack.

“Oh, my God. This is stupid.” I dropped my head into my hands. “Werewolves aren’t real.” My mother, Lydia, and Sam, were all delusional, for sure. And I wasn’t in danger. Aunt Lydia must have been attacked by burglars, not wolves.

Annoyed with myself for entertaining the madness, I threw everything back into the box and shoved it into my backpack. I needed to focus on reality. My reality right now was that I was starving. My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since this morning. Heaving a sigh, I got up and grabbed my purse from my backpack. I’d have to make do with whatever was in the vending machine I saw in the lobby.

I opened the door and took a step, only to be shoved back inside. Before I could let out a scream, a hand clamped over my mouth. The first thing that popped into my mind was that Sam was right. Maybe whoever killed my aunt found me.