Adopted by The Owl: The Owl Shifter Chronicles Book One Page 5

  There was silence.

  “It’s just a story, right?” Joanna said into the silence. She chuckled. “It can’t be real, can it?”

  “What, and a man who can turn into an owl the size of an SUV is?” Michael said for the first time in the class. “Or a woman.” At that, Michael glanced at Emily.

  Emily frowned at him. What the hell was his problem? She was definitely going to have a talk with Michael just after the period ended.

  “It might have been a taunt to get us all worked up and scared.” Mr. Winter shrugged. “It might have been a lie. Or maybe it’s true. Whatever the case, time will tell. Plus, we will do everything in our power to keep everyone safe. Supernaturals don’t have to die. They just can’t live in New Haven. That’s all we want. Don’t live in our town.”

  The end-of-period bell rang out. Nobody dared to move. They were still hung up on the harrowing tale Mr. Winter had just told them.

  Emily was still reeling from the story of her possible history. She didn’t know much of her family’s heritage; however, she had heard Mom talk about her father—Emily’s grandfather—who was like her. If Emily’s mother was The Owl, then it stood to reason that Emily’s grandfather, too, was The Owl. Or should she say an Owl? She was still a bit confused about what she had going on with The Owl.

  The question was: Was having The Owl specific to their family? Or was it as popular as being a vamp or werewolf or warlock? If so, The Owl that killed Mr. Winter’s father . . . was it Bernice’s father? Bernice’s father at the time would have been contemporaries with Mr. Winter’s father—so there was a chance they could have been partners.

  She had to find out.

  “Class dismissed,” Mr. Winter called out. Everyone had started to leave when Mr. Winter said, “Ms. Davies, a word, please.”

  With those five words, dread filled Emily’s heart.

  9

  “Hey, are you okay?” asked a voice to Emily’s left that made her turn with a start. It was Jamie, looking down at her with his lips pursed and brow furrowed—his usual expression of concern.

  Emily looked back up at him. She wished she could tell him. Or anybody really. Having this secret was just too much for her. It was like a burden that sometimes made her feel like she was drowning. But she just didn’t trust anyone with her secret. There was no way to guarantee anyone’s objectivity—anybody’s tolerance.

  There was this fierce stigma against supernaturals to the point of even being killed. She would not only be putting her reputation in jeopardy, she’d also be putting her life in danger. She just couldn’t deal with that.

  Sadly, it meant she was alone in this struggle, especially on days like this. Days where she was a hair’s breadth away from being found out and murdered. Why did Mr. Winter want to see her?

  Why me?

  The question troubled her, even as Jamie patiently waited for her answer, and their classmates made a lot of noise shuffling out of the class for break.

  “I’m okay, Jamie,” Emily said, looking away from him before she teared up. She packed up her books, hoping he’d just go away and not try to break through her inhibition.

  “Are you sure? I could stay here if you want.”

  “Really, Jamie.”

  “I don’t like that Mr. Winter wants to get you alone.”

  Emily smiled. Jamie could be really cute when he was acting all protective. She had told him this many times.

  “What is he going to do, huh?” Emily asked, looking back up at her handsome quarterback with a smile.

  Jamie briefly glanced at Mr. Winter—who was having a word with his son—and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t like this. I mean, first he kills Bernice. Now he wants to see you?”

  Emily’s breathing halted as her hands paused over the zipper on her backpack. This was the first time Jamie had mentioned her mother around her out loud. He had always been silent about the unfortunate incident. In fact, a lot of the people closest to her kept silent about the issue. They all knew Bernice was a shifter when she turned up disemboweled. But they never did approach Emily about it. When they did, they treated it like it was a normal death and not a supernatural one.

  However, Jamie was using the ‘B’ word: Bernice.

  Emily softly exhaled. She zipped her bag, hoping Jamie would go on without her.

  “Really, if he hurts you . . . ,” Jamie began.

  “He’s not going to hurt me,” Emily assured him. “I promise.”

  “You were cleared.”

  Emily frowned. “What?”

  “I never told you this because I didn’t want to be insensitive, considering what you were going through . . .”

  Emily was getting angry, and she knew she was being a hypocrite for it, but how could Jamie keep a secret from her? What was their relationship if they didn’t tell each other everything? “What are you not telling me, Jamie King?” Emily always called him by his full name when she wanted her way.

  Jamie shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he puffed up his shoulders. “The vigilantes wanted to be sure your mother hadn’t transferred her—um—trait to you.”

  “You mean, being The Owl?” Emily was horrified that Jamie spoke of The Owl as if it was some sort of disease.

  Really? The Owl muttered from her silence. That’s what you’ve been doing since Day One.

  Emily ignored her.

  “Yes,” Jamie said through gritted teeth. “They checked you out. They interviewed me.” Jamie brought his voice down, casting surreptitious glances to the few people still around. “They interviewed all of us. They wanted to know if you had . . . The Owl.”

  Emily couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How come nobody told her? Not even Joanna, her best friend? Not even the other cheerleaders, who were like sisters to her? They had all hidden the truth from her? How could they?

  “They watched you for six months,” Jamie said. “They had us give reports every week on your behavior.”

  “You spied on me?” Emily’s heart was breaking at each word her boyfriend spoke. Anger was already making its last lap, and she could feel hurt and bitterness readying themselves in its stead.

  “They made us do it,” Jamie insisted. “They told us we were doing it to protect you. They said if you manifested, they’d be forced to put you down. But if we identified the trait early enough, they may be able to remove it.”

  Emily’s heartbeat rose into her throat.

  It’s not possible, The Owl said. They were lied to.

  “Is that even possible?” Emily asked, trying her best to sound nonchalant.

  Jamie shrugged. “How should I know? All I wanted was for you to be safe.”

  Emily made a mental note to bring up this conversation with Michael when she waylaid him today. If there was a procedure of some sort, she sure as hell wanted to know about it.

  Even if there was, it’ll already be too late, The Owl pointed out. You’ve already manifested.

  “So why are you telling me this now?” Emily questioned her boyfriend.

  “Because I don’t like that Mr. Winter is here all of a sudden and wants to see you.”

  “But you said it yourself—I’m clean,” Emily reasoned. “They cleared me. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  Jamie shook his head. “I just don’t like what’s happening.”

  A thought popped into Emily’s head. “I got a weird text message last night. From an unknown sender.”

  That got Jamie’s attention. “What did they want?”

  Emily held his gaze, trying to ascertain whether he was genuinely surprised.

  Jamie noticed this—he could always read her like a book. “You think I did it?” He raised his eyebrows, appalled.

  Emily didn’t reply.

  Jamie pulled out his phone and showed her all his previous night’s text messages. While it didn’t necessarily prove anything, Emily decided to let him off the hook. If he was the person who sent the message, he wouldn’t be warning her about
Mr. Winter. He wouldn’t even be trying to prove his innocence so passionately. Maybe Emily had been foolish to suspect the young man who said he loved her. What was she thinking? Had she really become that jaded? Suspecting her own sweet and caring boyfriend of being a sick master spy . . .

  But then again, you never know, The Owl muttered cautiously.

  Emily rolled her eyes at The Owl’s unhelpful remark. “Look, Jamie, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. Mr. Winter wants to talk. I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Jamie hissed, “Just be safe,” and walked away.

  “I suppose you and I are going to have a long talk,” Joanna said from behind her. For a second time, Emily turned with a start.

  Her friend was sitting in her seat, her backpack on her desk. She’d been listening in on Emily and Jamie’s conversation.

  “You heard?”

  “Everything.”

  “Did they come to you, too?”

  Joanna nodded. Although she didn’t seem particularly contrite.

  “You betrayed me,” Emily spat out. “I thought we were best friends.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Joanna said. Then she got up and started to leave.

  “Is that it?” Emily said. “You’re just going to say ‘oh, yeah’?”

  “What do you want me to say?” Joanna threw her hands up. “You were under attack. You had just lost your mother to those cruel bastards. What other choice did I have than to ensure that the task force investigated you rather than just send you and your father packing?”

  Emily was confused. “Wait, what?”

  “Yes, Emily, I’m responsible for everything,” Joanna admitted. Then she laughed. “There’s so much you don’t know about what really goes on in this town. It’s because you have your head in a cloud of rainbows and perfection all the time.” Joanna leaned into Emily. “I’m a realist, Emily. I see the truth about people. I see right through them. I don’t believe in happy endings, and I don’t believe in honesty and goodwill.”

  She pulled away, leaving Emily totally bamboozled. “There’s only one thing that binds all of us together, and that’s money. Dollars and cents.” With that, and a flip of her hair, Joanna walked out of the class, leaving Emily alone with Mr. Winter.

  The man sat against the front desk, his hands folded across his chest. “So you’re the one my son wouldn’t shut up about?”

  Emily stood and walked to the man. Stopping beside the front row middle seat.

  Just be calm, The Owl said. Don’t let him intimidate you. Remember, if he has something on you, he wouldn’t be initiating this conversation.

  “Michael and I never talk, Mr. Winter,” Emily said politely. “I find it surprising that he should mention me to you.”

  Mr. Winter chuckled. “He believes something . . . dangerous about you.”

  10

  Emily paused for a moment.

  Remain calm, The Owl warned.

  She was finding it really hard to remain calm. Michael was her primary suspect. What if she was correct? What if he had really been the one who’d sent her the message? Maybe that’s why he’d been acting weird to her. That would explain the nasty looks. It wasn’t a secret that the Winter family hated supernaturals with a deep and fierce passion. Michael was no different.

  “Dangerous?” Emily echoed, trying to sound calm but failing woefully. Her insides were squirming. What did they know? What did Michael know?

  Well, we’re about to find out, aren’t we? The Owl’s voice joined Emily again.

  “Yes, Ms. Davies,” said the man. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Emily kept her face straight. She only hoped the man wouldn’t hear her heart pounding with the intensity of a furious chariot.

  Emily shrugged. “There are lots of things I’m not telling you, Mr. Winter.”

  Mr. Winter chuckled. “Fair enough. I mean, regarding supernaturals.” His voice tapered off, taking on a slight edge.

  Emily gulped.

  Ask him what he means, The Owl prompted. Be as nonchalant as possible.

  “What do you mean?” Emily let out a slight yawn. She feigned a look at her watch.

  Mr. Winter didn’t take the gesture lightly. He said angrily, “Is there some place you’d rather be, Ms. Davies?”

  Tell him you should be at the cafeteria, The Owl murmured.

  “Actually, yes,” Emily said matter-of-factly. “It’s break time, and I’m really starving.” She paused, regaining her confidence. “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

  Mr. Winter observed her for a moment.

  Emily stared right back at him.

  “Michael seems to believe that there’s a supernatural in your house,” Mr. Winter said.

  Emily looked point-blank at Mr. Winter, locking eyes with him. She was unsure of what to say or do.

  Laugh at it, The Owl instructed.

  Emily barked a nervous laugh. Mr. Winter nodded as though he deserved it. “I know, I told him it couldn’t be possible. I told him we took care of the only one there. I told him of . . .” His voice trailed off as he stared at her again.

  “Yeah, I know about the spying.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “Well, I told him,” Mr. Winter said. “But he seems really convinced that you’re harboring a supernatural.” He paused for her response.

  She gave none.

  “So, we followed you around for a week.” Mr. Winter picked the conversation back up again. “I put a couple of my boys on you.”

  By this point, Emily was exasperated. “And?” she demanded, wondering why the vigilante task force always had a blatant disregard for the law.

  “And we found nothing.”

  “So what are you doing here if you found nothing?” Emily asked, confused.

  “You see, he’s pissed at you because you proved him wrong before everybody,” Mr. Winter explained. “I don’t tolerate loss. Wastage is what that boy has cost us by having us stalk you for a week.”

  “So when did you give it up?”

  “Two days ago. Why?”

  Emily said nothing at first. One more day and they would have proven Michael right. She wasn’t happy that Michael got embarrassed; still, she was happy that she didn’t get found out. Perhaps Michael was correct, in a way. Only she wasn’t harboring a supernatural. She was the supernatural. “Why am I here, Mr. Winter?”

  The older man spoke calmly. “I wanted to apologize for my son’s behavior.”

  “You shouldn’t.” Emily wasn’t about to accept an apology she totally didn’t deserve.

  “Humor me, Ms. Davies.” Mr. Winter let out a sigh. “After everything you and your family have been through, it’s not our right to make you continually suffer just because we can.

  “A lot of people think I abuse my power. They think we vigilantes abuse our power in this town, but we don’t. We don’t necessarily operate within the ambit of the law, true. Nevertheless, we don’t act with impunity either.” Mr. Winter paused to draw breath. “I know I’m the last person you want to be talking to right now, but I want you to know that I’m here if you need to talk. We don’t have to be enemies.”

  “We’re not,” Emily lied through her teeth. She didn’t appreciate the fact that Mr. Winter even dared to befriend her after murdering her mother in cold blood.

  Mr. Winter saw this and chuckled. “You say that, but I know you mean the opposite.” He pulled out a business card from his pocket and handed it over to her.

  She took it. “Did you even look her in the eyes?”

  Bad move! The Owl sounded panicked.

  Mr. Winter was thrown off balance. “What?”

  “When you killed her, did you look her in the eyes?” The hatred in her voice was unmistakable.

  Mr. Winter shook his head. “No, I didn’t look her in the eyes. We’re not monsters. You think we like what we do?”

  “You could have fooled me,” Emily replied coolly.

  “We don’t,” Mr. Winter emphasized. �
�We do what we do to keep this town safe. I witnessed the first war. It was terrible. Horrifying. I swore that I’d do everything within my power to make sure it never happens again.”

  “By killing innocent people?”

  “No, just supernaturals.”

  “My mom was an innocent woman.” Her voice was thick, and her eyes were heavy with tears, and she knew she was talking based on emotions now and not logic. The Owl was quiet within her. Nevertheless, she could sense her apprehension. The Owl didn’t like the path she was taking with the vigilante boss.

  “Maybe,” Mr. Winter said. “But she knew what she was asking for when she disregarded all our rules. Her death is on her.”

  Emily felt like someone had struck her in the face. Hatred billowed in the pit of her belly. Her magic simmered within her. She was inches away from unleashing The Owl and snapping the man’s body in two.

  Mr. Winter noticed the change in her. He sighed. “Just give me a call if you need anything.” He shot her one more pleading look before he walked out.

  Emily collapsed into the nearest chair, sighing. Rage overtook her for a moment. She struggled with her magic. Fighting down the urge to unleash her true form was like fighting down the urge to throw up. Most times, she was powerful enough to keep it down. However, sometimes, the urge was so strong that she was terrified she’d fail.

  Now was one of those times. If she couldn’t control herself, she’d turn into The Owl. Everyone would know. The vigilante boss would know. It wouldn’t be long before they did to her what they did to her mom.

  Emily groaned aloud, forcing The Owl down. When she felt she could get up without going full-on Owl, she stood.

  That was intense, said The Owl.

  “What, trying to get us all killed or Mr. Winter?” Emily asked with a grunt.

  What happened a few moments ago wasn’t me, The Owl said. It’s a normal response programmed into your being. Once you’re distressed or unusually emotional, your true form will come to the fore.

  “I thought that was you,” Emily groaned.

  Well, yes and no. Yes, in the sense that I am The Owl, and I am you. No, in the sense that you can summon The Owl at any time and it will obey you.