‹ Prequel: Alpha
Sequel: Aspen County ›
Streak of Black
Epilogue-Ryder
We're on the road by 6:00. We have to be. We're scheduled to take off at 9:00 for Pennsylvania, and we're an hour away from the airport. By the time we get there, after all of the traffic, and through the metal detectors, it's already almost 8:00.
We walk around, looking for our terminal. It's still crowded with people who are just barely making it for their flight. Ours is going to be delayed for sure. I settle back in the seat, and glance at the door. It's closing. Finally, that other plane can prepare to take off.
I gaze out the window, still exhausted and confused. It's been a long couple of days, and I'm just glad it's over. The only thing I miss is Louve. It feels like I'm broken. She's gone. I just don't understand how she can still love me but leave me at the same time.
As if she heard my thoughts, Louve looks out the window of the plane. Our eyes meet, and she smiles at me. It just doesn't look like her smile—it's something different, something wicked. It's a mix between sinister and superior. It doesn't belong on her face. She turns around, presumably to look at Lovett. Her auburn hair glows in the early morning sunlight, but when she turned, I swear I saw something in her hair. But she once told me when I asked that she would never dye her hair or use extensions. She loves her hair more than I do.
I know that's her, but I must have imagined that flash of black. She turns again, and leans back in the seat, giving me a good look at her side. I gasp at the long streak of black. That's not her. It can't be. I blink a few times and look back at her. It's still the same black streak in otherwise perfect auburn hair the color of autumn leaves. It's still the same profile I recognize from gazing at it adoringly uncountable times over the years. She glances out the window again. It's still the same forest green eyes that I've memorized over the years, the eyes that I fell in love with. It's still the same girl physically, but I know that there's something different about her.
Because that is not the girl I fell in love with.
I jump up and run to the counter. "Excuse me!" I say, shoving some guy out of my way in my desperation.
"Sir, there is a line," the woman says in a French accent even thicker than Louve's, especially difficult to understand through her annoyance.
I ignore the attitude. "Are there any more tickets to that flight? Where is it going?" I ignore the fact that Zeeva is now standing next to me, a very worried look on her face.
"Ryder," she says gently, trying to calm me down. But I can't calm down now. There's something wrong with the girl I love, and she's only a door away from me.
"Sir, the doors are closed. No one else is allowed on or off of that plane. I'm sorry I couldn't help." She turns back to the man I cut off, still irritated.
"Where is it going?" I sound like a madman! How has security not hauled me off yet? The woman seems to be thinking the same thing. She glances at the phone on the counter.
"It's going to Michigan."
My knees almost buckle. Michigan. She's going to Michigan. At least in Pennsylvania there might have still been a chance. But Michigan? Where would she go there?
That werewolf community. She must have somehow figured out that it’s in Michigan somehow. Maybe she lied to me again…
"Thank you," Zeeva says apologetically to the frazzled but annoyed woman, unaware of what’s going on in my head. "We won't bother you again."
The woman looks very grateful, and Zeeva begins leading me away as the woman begins talking in rapid French to the man she'd been assisting before in apologetic tones. My Pack looks at me with concern filling their features. All I can do is stare out the window. Louve looks out at me, her eyes twinkling sinisterly. Her face tilts up, and I know what she's hearing—the plane is taking off. She looks back at me, waves, and looks away as the plane begins to take off down the runway.
"Ryder, what the hell?" Zeeva asks, annoyed but quiet. I realize she must have been trying to get my attention for a while.
"Huh?" My mind seems to be not working right.
"Ryder, what was that? You almost got us kicked out of here!"
I swallow, trying to shake myself out of it. "Louve and Lovett… They were on that plane."
"What? How do you know?" Eyulf asks.
"I saw Louve. She smiled...weirdly...at me."
"Weirdly, how?" Rudi chimes in, sounding suspicious.
"This...twisted...grin. Like it wasn't her."
"Maybe it was someone that looked like her or that you imagined that it was her. Are you sure that that can't be what happened?"
"Positive. It was her when I first looked, then looked again, and again when I came back."
"So she's going to Michigan." Zeeva—just like me and everyone else in the group—is kicking herself for just missing them.
"But it wasn't just the...smile…" if you could call it that. "Guys I’m not so sure that the voice was controlling her this time." The words feel like poison sliding down my throat. "If it was, she would've been causing chaos or whispering something in my head. Her hair was different, too."
"How so?" Rudi knows as well as I do how much Louve loved her hair. I can't even count how many times she would sit there while Rudi combed through it gently so it would dry wavy the way that Louve likes it.
"There was this...streak of...black." My sentences are choppy, like I'm trying to figure out what it is I'm trying to say. I hold out my hand, separating my fingers about an inch and a half apart. "It was about this thick."
"And you're absolutely positive it was her?"
I struggle to contain my temper, not wanting to turn into that person again, the stupid teenager that I used to be. The real Louve, my Louve, is still in there somewhere, and I promised that version of her that I wouldn't be that person anymore. "Yes, Rudi, I'm positive. She smiled and waved at me."
"So what are we going to do?"
I sigh. "I guess we'll go to Pennsylvania and then take the next flight out to Michigan."
Everyone accepts my final word and sits down, still anxious and waiting until we can board and leave. I, on the other hand, stay standing and staring out the window until long after the plane disappears through the clouds, wishing desperately that I was clinging to the wings if only to stay with Louve.
'I'm coming for you,' I tell her.
She never bothers to reply.
We walk around, looking for our terminal. It's still crowded with people who are just barely making it for their flight. Ours is going to be delayed for sure. I settle back in the seat, and glance at the door. It's closing. Finally, that other plane can prepare to take off.
I gaze out the window, still exhausted and confused. It's been a long couple of days, and I'm just glad it's over. The only thing I miss is Louve. It feels like I'm broken. She's gone. I just don't understand how she can still love me but leave me at the same time.
As if she heard my thoughts, Louve looks out the window of the plane. Our eyes meet, and she smiles at me. It just doesn't look like her smile—it's something different, something wicked. It's a mix between sinister and superior. It doesn't belong on her face. She turns around, presumably to look at Lovett. Her auburn hair glows in the early morning sunlight, but when she turned, I swear I saw something in her hair. But she once told me when I asked that she would never dye her hair or use extensions. She loves her hair more than I do.
I know that's her, but I must have imagined that flash of black. She turns again, and leans back in the seat, giving me a good look at her side. I gasp at the long streak of black. That's not her. It can't be. I blink a few times and look back at her. It's still the same black streak in otherwise perfect auburn hair the color of autumn leaves. It's still the same profile I recognize from gazing at it adoringly uncountable times over the years. She glances out the window again. It's still the same forest green eyes that I've memorized over the years, the eyes that I fell in love with. It's still the same girl physically, but I know that there's something different about her.
Because that is not the girl I fell in love with.
I jump up and run to the counter. "Excuse me!" I say, shoving some guy out of my way in my desperation.
"Sir, there is a line," the woman says in a French accent even thicker than Louve's, especially difficult to understand through her annoyance.
I ignore the attitude. "Are there any more tickets to that flight? Where is it going?" I ignore the fact that Zeeva is now standing next to me, a very worried look on her face.
"Ryder," she says gently, trying to calm me down. But I can't calm down now. There's something wrong with the girl I love, and she's only a door away from me.
"Sir, the doors are closed. No one else is allowed on or off of that plane. I'm sorry I couldn't help." She turns back to the man I cut off, still irritated.
"Where is it going?" I sound like a madman! How has security not hauled me off yet? The woman seems to be thinking the same thing. She glances at the phone on the counter.
"It's going to Michigan."
My knees almost buckle. Michigan. She's going to Michigan. At least in Pennsylvania there might have still been a chance. But Michigan? Where would she go there?
That werewolf community. She must have somehow figured out that it’s in Michigan somehow. Maybe she lied to me again…
"Thank you," Zeeva says apologetically to the frazzled but annoyed woman, unaware of what’s going on in my head. "We won't bother you again."
The woman looks very grateful, and Zeeva begins leading me away as the woman begins talking in rapid French to the man she'd been assisting before in apologetic tones. My Pack looks at me with concern filling their features. All I can do is stare out the window. Louve looks out at me, her eyes twinkling sinisterly. Her face tilts up, and I know what she's hearing—the plane is taking off. She looks back at me, waves, and looks away as the plane begins to take off down the runway.
"Ryder, what the hell?" Zeeva asks, annoyed but quiet. I realize she must have been trying to get my attention for a while.
"Huh?" My mind seems to be not working right.
"Ryder, what was that? You almost got us kicked out of here!"
I swallow, trying to shake myself out of it. "Louve and Lovett… They were on that plane."
"What? How do you know?" Eyulf asks.
"I saw Louve. She smiled...weirdly...at me."
"Weirdly, how?" Rudi chimes in, sounding suspicious.
"This...twisted...grin. Like it wasn't her."
"Maybe it was someone that looked like her or that you imagined that it was her. Are you sure that that can't be what happened?"
"Positive. It was her when I first looked, then looked again, and again when I came back."
"So she's going to Michigan." Zeeva—just like me and everyone else in the group—is kicking herself for just missing them.
"But it wasn't just the...smile…" if you could call it that. "Guys I’m not so sure that the voice was controlling her this time." The words feel like poison sliding down my throat. "If it was, she would've been causing chaos or whispering something in my head. Her hair was different, too."
"How so?" Rudi knows as well as I do how much Louve loved her hair. I can't even count how many times she would sit there while Rudi combed through it gently so it would dry wavy the way that Louve likes it.
"There was this...streak of...black." My sentences are choppy, like I'm trying to figure out what it is I'm trying to say. I hold out my hand, separating my fingers about an inch and a half apart. "It was about this thick."
"And you're absolutely positive it was her?"
I struggle to contain my temper, not wanting to turn into that person again, the stupid teenager that I used to be. The real Louve, my Louve, is still in there somewhere, and I promised that version of her that I wouldn't be that person anymore. "Yes, Rudi, I'm positive. She smiled and waved at me."
"So what are we going to do?"
I sigh. "I guess we'll go to Pennsylvania and then take the next flight out to Michigan."
Everyone accepts my final word and sits down, still anxious and waiting until we can board and leave. I, on the other hand, stay standing and staring out the window until long after the plane disappears through the clouds, wishing desperately that I was clinging to the wings if only to stay with Louve.
'I'm coming for you,' I tell her.
She never bothers to reply.