Feel of the Flesh
Chapter Two
Back at home, AnnaLee and Edward--Innya's parents-- were lounging in the living room, watching the evening news.
"Innya, can you come here, please?" Edward asked, his voice cold.
"Yes-sir. What is it?" Innya answered, a cold prick of worry piercing her heart.
"Have any of the young ones in the pack gone off alone lately?"
Edward's blue eyes, the same color as Innya's, were sick with worry.
"Not that I know of. I can ask Rhys if you want me to though. Why?" Innya replied, cocking her head to the side like a confused pup.
"There's been two killings. Two young humans in a park were slayed by 'wild animals' late last night."
"Edward, really. I don't think anyone in the pack would do that! Not even the young ones. Show a little faith. They have more self-control than that," AnnaLee said. But even her eyes were bright with concern.
"No, all us were at Rhys' place last night. Maybe it was an animal. You never know, Dad," Innya said.
Edward sighed heavily, rubbing his temples slowly.
"We should have never left last time. We're not as safe here."
"Edward, how can you say that? There's half as many people here in Oregon. Arizona was much more dangerous."
"Yes, half as many people with twice as many guns."
Innya rolled her eyes and slipped out of the room, not wanting to hear her parents argue again. Not wanting to remember.
It was her brother, last time. Her brother Lars. He had snapped, gone crazy, and killed a girl. After that, they had been forced to kick him out of the pack. Out of their family. That was six years ago, when Innya was twelve. Six long years since she had seen her brother. Her parents, and the pack pretended that he never exsisted. All of his pictures were gone, his name was never spoken. But Innya kept a picture in her diary, and today she chose to fish it out.
In it, Lars was standing in front of a snowy field, all bundled up in a plaid jacket. His straight, slick brown hair hung in his eyes, and his lips curled back to show icy white teeth. If you looked hard enough, you could see Innya at the edge of the picture, poking her little head into the frame. Her crooked smile danced on her face, and Lars eyes were focused on her.
Tears came into Innyas eyes as she remembered. Right after the flash of the camera had dissapated, Lars had run over and thrown her into the air, spinning her around and laughing.
"You trying to steal my thunder, prissy? You're pretty enough to star in hundreds of pictures! Why don't you let your ugly brother have a few to himself?"
"You're not ugly, Lars!" Innya laughed, hopping out of his arms and running helter-skelter, like a jackrabbit, across the field. Lars barked and ran after her, letting her win like he always did.
Innya sighed.
"You're right, Rhys. It was easier."
"Innya, can you come here, please?" Edward asked, his voice cold.
"Yes-sir. What is it?" Innya answered, a cold prick of worry piercing her heart.
"Have any of the young ones in the pack gone off alone lately?"
Edward's blue eyes, the same color as Innya's, were sick with worry.
"Not that I know of. I can ask Rhys if you want me to though. Why?" Innya replied, cocking her head to the side like a confused pup.
"There's been two killings. Two young humans in a park were slayed by 'wild animals' late last night."
"Edward, really. I don't think anyone in the pack would do that! Not even the young ones. Show a little faith. They have more self-control than that," AnnaLee said. But even her eyes were bright with concern.
"No, all us were at Rhys' place last night. Maybe it was an animal. You never know, Dad," Innya said.
Edward sighed heavily, rubbing his temples slowly.
"We should have never left last time. We're not as safe here."
"Edward, how can you say that? There's half as many people here in Oregon. Arizona was much more dangerous."
"Yes, half as many people with twice as many guns."
Innya rolled her eyes and slipped out of the room, not wanting to hear her parents argue again. Not wanting to remember.
It was her brother, last time. Her brother Lars. He had snapped, gone crazy, and killed a girl. After that, they had been forced to kick him out of the pack. Out of their family. That was six years ago, when Innya was twelve. Six long years since she had seen her brother. Her parents, and the pack pretended that he never exsisted. All of his pictures were gone, his name was never spoken. But Innya kept a picture in her diary, and today she chose to fish it out.
In it, Lars was standing in front of a snowy field, all bundled up in a plaid jacket. His straight, slick brown hair hung in his eyes, and his lips curled back to show icy white teeth. If you looked hard enough, you could see Innya at the edge of the picture, poking her little head into the frame. Her crooked smile danced on her face, and Lars eyes were focused on her.
Tears came into Innyas eyes as she remembered. Right after the flash of the camera had dissapated, Lars had run over and thrown her into the air, spinning her around and laughing.
"You trying to steal my thunder, prissy? You're pretty enough to star in hundreds of pictures! Why don't you let your ugly brother have a few to himself?"
"You're not ugly, Lars!" Innya laughed, hopping out of his arms and running helter-skelter, like a jackrabbit, across the field. Lars barked and ran after her, letting her win like he always did.
Innya sighed.
"You're right, Rhys. It was easier."