Chapter 1:

Chapter One

Skinwalkers: Distant Thunder


Chapter One

Everything was wrong.

The sun beamed cheerfully from its perch up in the cloudless blue sky, sharing its pleasant warmth with the woods below. Some of its rays alighted on a rickety orange and white striped bus as it meandered, carefree, down the winding forest road. The trees were lush and green, the air was filled with birdsong, and the engine’s gentle roar sent more than one deer bolting for safety.

Its passengers were jostled almost playfully as the bus bounced across the old, weathered pavement. The wide, squat concrete building that was their destination could be seen in the distance, drawing closer by the minute. A sign stood by the side of the road, proudly declaring that the travelers had arrived at the Dunchurch Regional Airport in large bronze letters. Every few minutes, a plane would break free of gravity’s clutches, escaping into the wide, open skies. The entire scene seemed tailor-made to fan the flames of adventure in Fey Greenbriar’s heart.

And it was all so very, very wrong.

To Fey, who had been sitting on the bus for the past five hours, it was as if nature were mocking her. Such a beautiful day could never follow the horrors she had witnessed the night before. The sky should have been dark, the sun hidden in shame. The idea that the earth itself didn't share their horror after so much innocent blood had been spilled on it mere hours ago felt almost blasphemous.

Eventually, the bus pulled up to the curb outside the airport and the passengers began to disembark, chatting excitedly with one another about the adventures they were about to embark on and the memories they were about to create. They avoided speaking to, or even looking at, Fey and the small morose group of people sitting near her, as if they instinctively knew her ragtag group belonged to a wholly different world than the rest of them.

They were right—in more ways than one.

Once they were the only passengers left on board, and the driver was beginning to give them strange looks, one of them rose from their seats. Gray haired and sharp eyed, he turned to look at the other remaining riders and said, in a voice that was heavy with the burden of responsibility, "Let's go, everyone."

At his command, the others rose from their seats and silently made their way to the door in single file. As soon as they were outside, Fey couldn't stop herself from stretching.

"That's better," she said, working the kinks out of her neck. "Skinwalkers aren't supposed to be stuck in cramped places like that."

"Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it," another young woman sneered. While Fey's skin was pale, the other girl was a rich tan, and her midnight black locks were the exact opposite of Fey's platinum blonde, nearly white, hair. "We all know how much you love being surrounded by humans, Tame.”

Fey spun to glare at her, but before she could say anything, the gray haired man stepped between them.

"Stop it, both of you! This is not the place for you to make a scene," he said sternly, eyeing both of them. "Understand?"

"Yes, Glenn," they said in near unison, though the looks they gave each other were no less venomous.

"Norrin, leave it alone!" Glenn snapped.

Fey turned to look at another member of the group. This one was over seven feet tall, and had his shirt pulled halfway up his belly. He froze, giving a blank-eyed stare at Glenn.

"Don't like it," he said, his voice completely monotone.

"It doesn't matter," said Glenn for what must have been the hundredth time that day. "Humans don't run around naked, so while we're around them, we can't either."

"We shouldn't be around them in the first place," Ember complained. "None of us want to go Tame like Fey!"

Glenn opened his mouth to reply, but paused when he saw the way Ember had started grabbing her backside.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Ember's cheeks flushed. "I'm…I can't remember the last time I didn't have my tail. It feels wrong!"

"We are skinwalkers," Glenn said in a lecturing tone. "Your human form is half of who you are. To say that it's wrong is to say that you are wrong."

"I know," Ember admitted begrudgingly, "but still…"

Someone moved behind her, and Fey turned to see Zave looking away awkwardly. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. What Glenn had told them last night had shocked Fey almost as much as the massacre itself had, and his words hadn’t even been about her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what Zave must be feeling.

What Ember had said earlier was true: they were skinwalkers. A race of shapeshifters who lived in the Wilds, hidden from the eyes of humanity. Or rather, thought Fey, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, most of us do. She had abandoned that life to live in the human world. Going Tame was what they called it. But after living that life for three years, trying to convince herself day after day that she was happy, horrors that she could scarcely comprehend even in the light of day had forced her to seek out her old pack.

Wendigos. Just thinking the word sent icy shivers down her spine.

And though she hated to admit it, she knew Ember was right. Fey had no right to even be here. Going Tame was a self-imposed exile, and the punishment for returning to the Wild was death. Luckily, Glenn had never put much stock into such archaic laws, as evidenced by the fact that an entire skinwalker pack was now preparing to board an airplane.

But Zave…even in an unprecedented event like this, he was still the oddest one here. When Fey had met him less than a week ago, the unwitting owner of an unAwakened skinwalker, she had assumed that he was just another human. Dull, dumb, and blind to the true magic of the world around him. Even now, just looking at him, it was hard to believe that wasn't the case. But try as she might, she couldn't discredit everything that had happened the night before. How, after she had managed to travel over a hundred miles without even telling him where she was going, Zave had not only managed to track her down, but had saved her and the rest of the pack from the wendigo horde in the process.

Zave claimed that he had been guided there by the mysterious visions he had begun having only a couple of days before. Visions that even he was at a complete loss to explain. And if that wasn’t enough, Glenn's final words on the subject had sent chills down to Fey’s very soul:

Zave isn't human.

Neither she nor Zave knew what he meant by that. Fey wasn't sure even Glenn himself knew. But her former alpha wasn't given to exaggeration, and the fact that he'd allowed Zave to join them on their journey to Skinwalker Ranch for the emergency counsel spoke volumes.

Then again, could Fey say truthfully that Glenn was in his right mind? The deer-walker had practically raised her, been the father she'd never had. She wanted to trust him more than anything else in the world. But as horrifying as the previous night had been for all of them, nobody had suffered even half as much as Glenn. Their victory over the horde had been narrow enough as it was, with Skylar—one of Fey’s former packmates—not making it out alive. But then they had gone back to the nest to find the pack's three youngest members dead.

And not just dead. Eaten. Jake and Nat, the twin rabbit-walkers…and Glenn's own son, Derrick.

Damn you, Jacob Donner, Fey thought, the anger rising up inside her yet again. The only thing that'll stop me from hunting you down and killing you is if Glenn does it first, you bastard!

But for now there was nowhere for that anger to go. No enemy for Fey to lash out at. The leader of the wendigos was long gone, promising that he would be keeping an eye on Zave, and returning when…Fey couldn't help but shudder…his flavor was just right.

Zave stood apart from the group, and nobody seemed eager to let him get any closer. Even Clueless, who had been Zave's loving and devoted pet until a few days ago, kept her distance from him—although that was for an entirely different reason.

The golden haired young woman turned to glance at him, and Zave's expression brightened hopefully. For a split second, childish glee filled Clueless' eyes, like a toddler seeing her father come home from work at the end of the day. But then her eyes clouded with anger, and she spun away from him with a huff. Zave's expression fell again.

Everything I've done over the past few days has only made things worse, Fey thought glumly. First, she had done her best to ruin Clueless and Zave's relationship, thinking that the newly Awakened skinwalker wouldn't be able to adjust to her new life with her old owner following her around everywhere. It wasn't until after she'd wrenched the two of them apart that she realized how badly she was hurting them both.

And then of course, there had been the massacre. The wendigos had been tracking her and Clueless for days, across entire states and countless miles. And where had Fey led them? Straight to her old pack, and three defenseless children.

With her heart feeling like a ten ton weight, Fey stepped over so that she was standing next to Zave. He didn't say anything, but the shy glance he gave her told Fey he was grateful.

"Clueless will come around," she said softly.

Zave looked at her, then at Clueless, and shook his head morosely. "Maybe she shouldn't."

"No point in putting this off," said Glenn, who was staring up at the airport terminal almost defiantly. "Come on, everyone. Stay close."

Together, walking so close their shoulders bumped with every other step, Glenn's pack made their way inside, followed by Fey's pack—which was just her and Clueless—then Zave lagging a few steps behind.

The automatic glass doors slid open as they stepped close to them, and Ember sprang backwards, baring teeth that were growing sharper even as she pulled back her lips.

"Ember!" Glenn snapped. "Calm yourself!"

"That thing is evil!" she hissed.

"It's just a door, you idiot," Fey said with a laugh she didn't truly feel.

Ember rounded on her, green eyes flashing, but a cold look from Glenn silenced her before she'd even spoken. They went inside, and Glenn led the way toward the ticket counter.

Fey couldn't help but give her old alpha a curious look. Glenn was clearly out of his element here, but it was just as obvious that this wasn't his first time navigating the human world. She considered asking him about it as they waited in line, but decided against it.

"So, remind me where we're going again," Zave asked.

"Skinwalker Ranch," Glenn answered. "It's a place in Utah that's considered neutral ground for every skinwalker pack in America. We hold counsels there when something important happens—and the wendigos returning definitely qualifies as important."

The group fell into an awkward, shuffling silence when they reached the front of the line. Glenn spoke to the lady behind the counter, working out their destination and which flight they needed more smoothly than Fey ever could have done.

Then, with tickets grasped firmly in hand, the pack sat down to wait.

NEXT CHAPTER: 11/13/2024