Chapter 9

I awoke the next day to bright rays of sunshine stabbing me in the eyes and someone pounding on the door. What the hell is it with being awoken this way? I asked myself, groaning as I rolled out of bed. I slipped on the cloak I'd worn last night, holding it closed before roughly yanking the door open, giving the creature on the other side my best evil eye.

"Morning, Sunshine," Seth greeted me cheerfully and I growled.

"What the hell do you want, Seth, I was trying to sleep?" I yawned and stretched, working out various kinks; just because I practiced martial arts does not mean my body was up for an all-night run.

"Nice," he commented, though he'd wisely taken a step back first. "Much as I'd like to continue admiring, you've got about a half hour till the remembrance."

"Shit," I sighed, glancing over Billy's prone form to the digital alarm clock between our beds; it showed 10:01am. "Thanks," I grumbled, yawning some more and stepping back to close the door.

"Wait," he said and I did. "Thank you, for last night."

"Anytime," I told him somberly. "Next time it gets that bad, call me, even if you can't tell me anything. I may not be pack but I will do what I can." He nodded and walked away and I shut the door.

I noticed the wards were down, though it didn't bother me; Billy had probably done it when he returned last night.

I hopped in the shower, enjoying the hot spray on my stiff muscles. I thought as I bathed, letting my body relax as my mind came alert.

Last night, I'd felt as if I'd rejoined a piece of my soul I'd never realized I'd lost. It had been eleven years since I'd run with my pack, the pack that I had once belonged to anyway, and I'd never noticed the ache I'd been feeling since then until I was once again a part of it. I may not have been Wolf, but I'd grown up among them and learned to derive pleasure from what they did. I'd tried running with the residents of Shamrock once, but it hadn't felt right.

Even as I relished the freedom and joy of running with my pack mates, even as I came to know what I'd been craving, I realized that my place wasn't among them, had never really been with them. It was my human half that mourned the loss, not my feline side. It was She who made me discover that, though I longed to run with someone, it wasn't with them. It was with Talon.

I shied away from the image, shutting off the water. I had no business longing for a man who, until yesterday, had shown no interest in me as a woman, much less imagining a future that might not happen, probably wouldn't happen. Not to mention the thought that our friendship might have been arranged.

Frustrated, confused, hurt and grumpy, I roughly toweled off, wrapping one towel around my hair and another around my body before leaving the steamy bathroom.

"I was beginning to think you were trying to prune," Talon said softly from my bed, which was closest to the bathroom and farther from the windows, not that it really mattered with the thin curtains.

"What the hell!" I yelped, clutching at my chest as my heart tried to evacuate through my throat. "Do you get off on scaring the shit out of me?!" I was acutely aware that the towel only came to mid-thigh if I tugged it down to damn near expose my breasts past appropriate levels. Hoping my flushed face would be attributed to the hot shower, I asked, "What are you doing in here?"

In response, he pointed to the tiny ice bucket sitting on the dresser which held two cans of soda.

Wasting no time, I crossed the room and, popping one open, chugged the entire can down. I'd been afraid I'd have to wait until lunch for my caffeine fix and the thought hadn't appealed to me.

"Thank you," I said, belching loudly. "You know, you could have waited until I was dressed to bring me these, or at least out of the shower."

"But then I wouldn't have gotten to appreciate your-" he paused and I shot him a glare laced with violent intent, "-gratitude, as well as your surprise. I'll leave you to get dressed now." He went from lounging back against the headboard to standing upright in a single move that I envied, his beautiful body rippling slightly under his only slightly baggy trousers and blue flame embroidered black dress shirt.

"Why are you dressed up?" I asked accusingly. "Not that I don't appreciate a hot guy in a suit bringing me much needed caffeine," I added playfully and, I hoped, lightly.

"You don't have much time now, Ramirez," he replied instead of answering my question, gently shutting the dividing door.

"Sneaky bastard," I muttered and locked the door behind him.

The clothes I'd worn last night were lying atop my duffle bag when I looked for them. I put on a pair of clean panties and a bra and, wearing the same pants, pulled on a clean, dark blue shirt that was sleeveless and cut just low enough to show the tops of my breasts. To me, it was somewhere between casual office attire and weather appropriate.

After tugging the brush through my damp hair, I put it up in a bun with a clip, applied a little eye liner, slid on my shoes and stuffed my things in my pockets on the way out the door.

Billy never stirred.

"You do realize where I'm going, right?" I asked Talon, who was leaning against the brick wall between our rooms.

"Yep."

"Are you really that bored?" I asked, locking the door and starting down the street towards the town hall, where there was a growing crowd gathering.

"Maybe," he replied cryptically.

"Maybe you're bored, maybe you're nosy, maybe you've got it in your head that you need to protect me or maybe you just enjoy annoying me, which one?" I asked, irritated.

"Maybe all of the above," he replied airily.

I saw him looking at me from the corner of his eye as we drew closer to the crowd before the building. "Are you going to tell me why you are staring at me?" I asked, expecting another evasive answer. After a few more seconds of silence, I figured he'd opted not to answer at all.

"I like your tattoos," he said finally.

I had various small tattoos on my body, only one bigger than a half-dollar. Between my shoulder blades rested a couple of mountains with wind blowing through them; it was the pack tattoo, about three inches wide. A set of Libra scales and the Kanji for wind were on my upper outer thighs, one on each leg. But the most important ones rested between my breasts, below the level of my shirt. There rested, top to bottom, a panther print, a crescent moon and a wolf print. They represented the different parts of me; I had them placed there so that I could look down and be reminded of who I was. It helped me come to terms with myself when I'd felt lost and urged me to be happy with it while also reminding me of my origins.

Looking down casually to make sure my tattoos weren't visible, I said nothing. Doubtless I could have come up with something smart to say if we hadn't already closed the distance between us and the crowd.

The doors opened a moment later, Mathias, Asher and Javen, along with the priest from one of the bigger towns close by receiving people. Silver Vale didn't have a church; it wasn't that the pack was against religion, it was just easier all around if everyone practiced their faith within their own homes. But the priest was here today for additional reasons; his brother was one of the wounded.

Everyone approached in an orderly fashion, were greeted and proceeded inside. The area was solemn, sad but not overwhelmingly so; the people here were better acquainted with death than ordinary folks and knew how to channel grief into something more productive.

I shook hands with the priest, exchanged nods with Mathias and Asher, hugged my father briefly and entered the building.

The town hall was really just a large room with chairs and a small stage, some small storage rooms were tucked in back. Today, there were also benches in addition to the chairs and a piano on the stage, probably barrowed from the school.

Talon followed in my wake as I exchanged brief words with those still friendly towards me, expressing my condolences even though I knew they didn't help. Deftly avoiding those who glared in my general direction, I found us some seats on the far end of a row from the door. I got the feeling that Talon was observing everything that was occurring, every little nuance and undercurrent throughout the room, and was memorizing everyone's reactions to us. I had no idea why and couldn't ask.

Another few minutes went by as people filtered in and found seats; by the time the doors were shut, the room was packed, with even more people standing against the walls. It felt even fuller than it was.

"People of Silver Vale," the priest intoned, "we gather this morning to remember those who have gone. Their deeds will not be forgotten, nor will the joy they brought to our lives fade to nothing. Let us recount the accomplishments of the fallen and rejoice in the lives they led."

He stepped back as an older woman ascended the stage. She was perhaps in her late forties, graying hair pulled back, her crisp brown suit giving her an air of authority.

"Katharine was born here," the woman began, "brought into this world by Doctor Westen himself," she gestured to where the doctor sat, near the recovering Weres. "She remained here when I left, said there was no better place for her. Even after college, she couldn't stay away. She told me once that, though she may have been born human, she shared the same spirit as the wolves and would never give them up." The woman, Katherine's mother, paused to gather herself. "I'm glad she never had to."

As she returned to her seat, another took her place, and so on, people talking about those who'd died. Sometimes they told stories, sometimes they listed achievements but mostly it was like Katharine's mother, who explained that, though they were saddened by their loss, they were not resentful.

As time went on, the emotional currents in the room lightened, making it easier for me to breathe. It showed just how well the people of Silver Vale loved those who'd died that they set aside time to grieve and, when that time was done, they moved on.

Mathias, after the last person had descended, took his turn on stage, just standing there between the podium and the piano, like he was collecting himself. The room was utterly silent as he chose the piano, sitting on the old, wooden bench, the seat creaking at his weight.

He picked out a single clear note and then launched into a piece of his own making, a piece of sadness, joy and love.

By the time he finished, I was wiping the tears from my face. Mathias hardly ever played the piano but when he did, it was beautiful. People gradually asked for specific songs and we all sang, provided we knew the words. That I had forgotten none of the songs in my long absence surprised me, made me feel like I'd never left, if only for a moment.

Finally, Mathias stood and went to the podium, dwarfing it even though it was just the right height for everyone else.

"My people," he began, his deep voice resonating in my bones, "we've gathered together to recount our fellows whose spirits are once again free. That they were loved and cherished is without question. They will be missed. But they will continue to live on through us. Let us feel joy that we knew them as we continue to live our lives, protected by the spirits of the departed." There was a brief moment of silence and then it was over.