Page 2 of Eclipsed Legacy

I snorted, “They wouldn’t believe me, anyway.” Everyone at school already thought I was crazy.

Grandma laughed, “You’re right about that. For now, let’s get in the house and get you cleaned up.”

When we entered the house, my mother was sobbing, hysterical. I saw a bag with my torn and bloody clothes on the table. Two police officers stood in the kitchen with their notepads out. They turned; their eyes wide with shock to see me. I gripped the blanket tighter around my naked form and cowered behind my grandmother.

“She’s all right,” Grandma said. “She’s all right, just a little overwhelmed with the day’s events.” She patted my back assuredly. “Go get dressed,” she said with a smile, adding, “hurry” with a look in her eyes that told me this was even more serious than I initially thought.

I hurried up the stairs as quickly as I could while hiding my nudity. Despite the dirt that covered me, I didn’t bathe. There wasn’t time. I had to talk to the police. I dressed quickly in my bedroom, lining my underwear with a thick sanitary pad. When I came downstairs, Grandma was using her serious voice and pointing at the officers. As I descended the stairs, they quieted. “Tala Ward, you are under arrest…” Their voices seemed to fade out. It was all too much. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening. My head swam, and the room spun. My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to scream, to fight; my body was ready: fight or flight. But I was already in so much trouble. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Grandma shouted as they read me my rights and handcuffed me before leading me outside.

The back of the police car was cold. The leather squeaked with each subtle move I made, and the scent of booze and cigarettes clung to the backseat. Neither officer spoke as they drove me to the station. When they questioned me, I did what Grandma had told me and stuck as close to the truth as possible. I told them that I wasn’t feeling good, that Lauren had made fun of me in the past and was making fun of me today in the cafeteria. Tears poured down my cheeks when I told them that I just got so angry I couldn’t control myself. I felt like their eyes were searing into me. I was worried they would find out my secret. But what logical person’s first thought would be that a little girl turned into a wolf?

I spent the next three years at an alternative school for troubled kids, and the following seven years on probation. Despite the fact most of my inner rage had subsided after that first change, in high school I was still known as a menace, volatile, insane. A bomb ready to go off at the slightest provocation. I had no real friends outside of my family, my pack. It didn’t matter, though. People stayed away from me, afraid I would murder them in their sleep like some Hollywood bullshit serial killer. No one gave me trouble, though, which is what mattered. My family was warm, comforting, like my wolf. With the knowledge of my family’s history, I felt even closer to my cousins, like I was finally in on the greatest of all secrets. Thanks to my being a wolf, my little brother wouldn’t be shielded from my family’s heritage as I had been. Everyone else could hate me, spit on me, shit on my name. I didn’t care. I graduated with honors, then kept to myself. That was all I needed. I was content.

Until a new pack moved in, and my world came crashing down.

Chapter 1

An old-fashioned bell rings as I open the door and make my way into Johnny’s Diner at half past seven in the morning. It’s somewhat light out as the sun hasn’t fully risen above the tree lines, but the diner is well lit with outdated overhead lamps that hang from the ceiling. The only occupants, an elderly couple and a few truckers, sit quietly and whisper to their respective partners.

I don’t wait to be seated. Instead, I slide into my usual booth. A minute later, my cousin and closest friend, Melinda, approaches my booth without a smile. “I put in your order when I saw you come in. How many cups today?” she asks nonchalantly, moving her head so the end of her dirty blonde ponytail falls off her shoulder. I hold up two fingers then put my head in my hands. She gives a slight chuckle. “That rough of a night, huh?” I nod as she says something about being back shortly and walks away. I consider making a short joke to be punny, but I don’t have the energy. Mel is five-one to my five-three, so she’s one of the few people I can pick on for being short.

Melinda places two cups of black coffee on my table. “Oh! Sorry,” she says as a few drops spill over the edge of one of the mugs.

I sit up a little straighter. “No worries, Mel,” I say, stifling a yawn. I roll my shoulders and stretch my arms before pulling one of the mugs toward me with both hands. I breathe in the scent of freshly brewed dark roast and take a sip before putting it down. I take a moment to stretch and undo my own ponytail, allowing my near-black hair to fall past my shoulders before I lean against the booth. I close my eyes and allow myself a moment of peace.

Mel groans as she sits across from me. “I just need a few minutes,” she says. Her flawless cream-colored skin is damp with sweat and her cheeks flushed red. Her eyes beg for sleep.

“Gotta love graveyard shift,” I say as I stretch and adjust my posture for conversation. “Off at eight?”

She nods in response.

I sip my coffee. “What’re you doing tonight? This was my fourth night on, so I don’t have to be at the chicken plant again until Thursday evening.”

Mel shrugs. “Nothing much. Abuela said something about helping her sort the herbs.” She rolls her eyes.

I give her a light kick under the table.

“Ow!” Apparently, not as light as I thought. A couple of people jump in our direction, but I glare at them until they return to their business. “Damn,” Mel whispers, rubbing her shin.

“Sorry!” I cringe, hoping I didn’t cause too much damage. I’m not sure why, but Grandma has always hated being called “abuela,” though she doesn’t mind abuelita. I asked her about it once, but she got defensive and changed the subject. Grandma is Mexican, but no one in my family speaks Spanish. Even Grandma isn’t fluent. She sometimes says that she lost much of her heritage because she was an orphan.

Mel interrupts my thoughts. I really am spacing today. “You know she’s only nice to you, right? She treats the rest of us like we’re incompetent or just a plain inconvenience.” I feel a twinge of guilt. I’ve always known Grandma treats me differently than my cousins, but I lived with her for three years of my childhood, so we are closer. We don’t bullshit; we get each other.

“She’s just rough around the edges,” I say.

Mel raises an eyebrow and gives me an amused smile, as if to say, “yeah, right.”

I can’t help but laugh, “Okay, okay, so maybe she’s just a little nicer to me, but that’s because I don’t kiss her ass or walk on eggshells to get her to like me.”

Mel shakes her head. “You are such an ass!”

I gasp with false shock. “I can’t believe you’d say such a thing to a customer. Where’s the owner? Johnny! Oh Johnny!”

“Shush!” Mel says, shaking her head at me again. “You’re rotten, absolutely rotten to the core!” A bell rings, notifying Mel an order is ready. She jumps to her feet. “I’ve got to get back to work. I might call you to save me tonight.”

“Grandma did ask me to pick up a few things for her, so I’ll be stopping by. But I can’t get you out of whatever ordeal she has planned. You know she’s a force of nature.”

“Yeah, but so are you! I’ll talk to you later.” Mel dashes off to retrieve and deliver her tables’ orders.