Chapter 2 #3
“Well, no matter whose fault it is, Freya fucked this one up royally. Who knows when we’ll recover after bringing such a faulty design to the table?
I know, Cassandra, but she’s not here. I can’t produce her out of thin air.
Besides, at this point, I’d just confiscate her laptop and fire her. Stupid, fat cow.”
He disconnected the call and looked around, peering into the trees in case I had conveniently left my laptop somewhere he could retrieve it.
After hearing what he really thought of me, I hoped he would find it and stumble into the demon’s fortress.
Maybe he would turn Matthew into a frog.
I wasn’t under any delusions that Matthew would search for my body.
At this point, he looked up at the tree and stared right at me.
I ruffled my feathers, not dropping his gaze.
Matthew looked around to see if anyone was watching him and flipped me off. I was too shocked to respond.
He brushed imaginary lint off his suit and climbed into his car, barely shutting the door before driving away.
Good to know how little I meant to the man.
I thought back on our relationship, if I could even call it that.
To one particular night when our group had gone out for drinks to celebrate winning a big project.
I had been relatively new at the firm, even more insecure than now, and crushing on Matthew.
He never wore black suits, only colors in the “almost black” category. Dark gray, chocolate, indigo, even a gray-green suit that not just anyone could pull off, made from shiny cloth of wool, silk, or cashmere, all fitted to show off his lean form.
“If you ask me, someone watches a little too much television,” Mindy had said, pouring us each a glass of champagne and shaking her head. “Fifties ad men don’t make the best role models.”
“I like his look.” I’d spoken quietly. Nobody heard me but Mindy.
“He’s a shark.”
Turns out my friend was right, but that long-ago night I ignored her advice.
Heady from champagne and my first professional success, I stayed by his side.
As the night progressed and he swam in bourbon, he began opening up to me.
At first, it was general congratulations and small talk, but then we began talking.
Like me, Matthew had a private side he didn’t show to just anybody.
We discussed everything from music to books and politics.
Then I told him about my past. How my mother left us, and my father died soon after.
How my uncle raised me but never loved me.
By that point, we were the only two people still drinking at the bar.
He offered me a ride home and walked me to my door.
He stepped in close, surrounding me in his clean cologne essence, a scent I had searched for unsuccessfully at the department store counters.
I kissed him. He kissed me back, stopping soon after with a reluctant look. “We can’t, but…”
Then he wished me a good night.
We never spoke of that evening, but through the years we grew closer.
Had you asked me yesterday, I would have told you with complete confidence Matthew believed in me and my work.
I thought he understood me. I had trusted him, and that made me a fool.
The only person who would be bothered by my disappearance would be Mindy.
And Matthew would be the one to tell her how they did everything possible to find me. Would she believe him?
No one can help you.
I looked around, but even my crow friend had deserted me. Not that I blamed him, there was nothing to see anymore. Everyone had gone. Then again, crows don’t speak English.
Down here.
The voice was coming from inside my head like the demon had spoken to me last night, only this wasn’t his voice.
Today’s voice was also male but lacking the gravitas of a true monster.
I tilted my head, searching the ground at the base of my tree.
Far below stood a wolf, gray with a black stripe down his back, watching me.
“Are you talking to me?” I asked, but of course, it came out as gibberish, crow-speak.
Try thinking instead of speaking. His mouth didn’t move, but his yellow eyes stared intensely at mine.
I’d been doing nothing but thinking, and my head hurt, but I tried it anyway.
Projecting my thoughts out toward the wolf, I asked, What do you want?
I want to help you. He wagged his tail, a sloppy tongue hanging loosely from his fanged mouth. His words and body language seemed to imply sincerity, but recent experiences told me to move cautiously. As long as I stayed where I was, perched thirty feet above the ground, I was safe.
How can you help me, Wolf? And, more importantly, why would you?
He did a little shake, looking like someone’s pet.
Because I am the only one who knows what you really are.
And who do you think I am?
You are someone like me. Someone unfortunate enough to wander into his evil trap. The only person in the world who knows what happened to you. Your background, your former life, means nothing now.
And who are you?
I am the Wolf.