Long road to ruin, there in your eyes...
Most days, I'd wake up completely oblivious to my own dreams, but that morning the damn alarm clock startled me straight out of dreamland. Reaching out, I fumbled blindly with the fucking thing—did I mention I hate alarm clocks?—and finally it shut up. One eye opened just enough to stare at the off-white ceiling that had once been painted black. One can only begin to guess at my older brother's state of mind by the previous colors that adorned this particular room, and I was in no mood to try.
"Sasuke, are you up yet?" called a familiar voice through an open window.
I stuck out my tongue and rolled my eyes because even without looking I knew it was Naruto and didn't want to face him. I could practically imagine him standing on the ground below my second-story window, dressed in something bright-orange and distinctly tacky, and holding a bag of donuts. Considering we live out in the middle of nowhere, I wondered some days how he managed to get freshly baked anything this early in the morning.
Slipping out of bed, because avoiding the were-fox is an exercise in futility, I stumbled over to the window, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms, and pulled open the curtains. Damn it was cold, but that's Cali spring weather for you—days are mind-melting hot and humid and nights take you back to the throes of winter. Goosebumps crawled lazily up my arms just in case the chill alone wasn't uncomfortable enough.
"It's six in the morning. What the fuck could you possibly want?" Let's not mention that my own alarm is set for this particularly damned hour, shall we.
Staring down at the pale-haired man I discovered I'd been partially right; he was orange, but no donuts. Naruto's tall at six feet something and all muscle, though it comes with the territory; were-creatures are predators by nature and it shows. His blue eyes watched me and it instantly turned into a staring contest.
He's the alpha male of a mixed-animal pack, but alpha nonetheless, and it's in their very nature to glare down possible opponents. I had a strong urge to look away because, in the world from whence he hails, he's a leader and I'm subordinate. It helps that I'm, relatively speaking, human and all the rules need not apply but still... Pain in the ass!
He growled, which amounted to a stalemate and grinned. "Just checking up on you."
"Before sunrise?" I raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
He deflected the question entirely. "Mind if I come in?"
I grumbled under my breath. "Fine. It's not like I can say 'no,' damn it."
"Technically you could," he countered.
"Would it help?"
"Not at all." The man was now grinning from one tanned ear to the other.
I waved him toward the door with a foul look. "Then why would I bother?"
I watched Naruto walk around the side of the house before making a bee-line for the closet and getting dressed in a hurry. When I came downstairs and opened the front door, he was already there, towering over me and holding onto a stack of manila folders. Not work related unless gym trainers are now required to fill forms out in triplicate, I thought as he stepped past me into the house. No invitation needed.
I watched him stalk straight into the small garage attached to the side of the house and vanish inside. I'm no fan of old, rusty cars but it used to be grandpa's favorite hobby so a bunch of them are still sitting in there, in various states of disrepair, and gathering dust. What the blonde could possibly expect to find, save moths and mold, was beyond me.
When he emerged, only slightly less orange now that he was dust-covered, I glared in his general direction. Entirely un-phased, he walked into the kitchen and dropped the folders unceremoniously on the island table. I stood in the door way, leaning up against the frame, and watched him putter about.
"What are you doing?"
He gestured to the now running coffee maker. "Coffee."
"Naruto, why are in my house at this ungodly hour, making coffee of all things?" My voice came out calm and collected, almost sarcastic.
He glanced once toward the newly made pile on the table. "There's been some...unfortunate deaths..." His voice trailed off into nothingness.
"What do you mean?"
I reached over and grabbed the folder on top, noting the police scribble on the front and the neat label. Carefully, I pulled it open and instantly regretted the decision. Photos graced the front page, taken at night with a powerful flash. Blood had splattered everywhere; it covered the body and slid down the sidewalk in a giant puddle. The victim—she was a woman although the corpse was too mutilated to make even that much out—lay naked and spread eagle in the middle of an alley. Entrails spewed from her abdomen. Stunned, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the murder scene; there was no question that the long-haired woman was very much dead.
"Uh..."
Naruto must've expected this reaction because he took the folder from my numb hands and led me gently—as gently as can be for a creature strong enough to lift small cars—over to the nearest chair. I sat down and stared blankly into the distance for a moment. The shock passed, eventually. It always does.
By then the coffee was done, and the blonde placed one green mug on the table in front of me. He doesn't really drink coffee, or any caffeine-laced beverages, because they tend to wreak havoc with the shifters' metabolism. I looked up and found him holding a glass of orange juice, not smiling anymore.
"That's not some unfortunate death."
He glared at me. "Drink."
A sip of the bitter liquid did absolutely nothing for my stomach, but at least it was warm as it slid down my throat. "Naruto?"
He sat down opposite from me at the table and leaned back in the overly small, wooden chair. "She was a Watcher, and the latest in a string of six such murders. The police don't have any leads on the perpetrator, but the suspicion among the were-packs is that whatever did this isn't human."
Watchers are people like me, human in the sense that we possess no super-human abilities. I don't jump higher or run faster than a normal person, in other words. Yet, we are perceptive enough to notice the supernatural; I can tell a werewolf on sight where a normal person will walk right by and never notice. We're also called to the highest truth, hence the name; when supernatural events close in on the human world, we stand in as witnesses. My mother died for the purpose; she followed the call that cannot be stopped to her own death.
"Is someone targeting Watchers?"
"It would appear so," agreed my pale-haired companion, "but we don't have any real answers, yet."
I raised an eyebrow. "So what does it have to do with me?"
"I wanted to make sure you weren't involved, all right." He frowned. "Look, kid, I promised your grand-dad I'd look after you."
"I'm not a kid anymore!"
He laughed, though it didn't reach his cold, blue gaze. "You'll always be a kid in my book, Sasuke."
"Fuck you."
It was true, though. Shape-shifter don't really age as fast as normal people; he'd outlived my grandfather and would likely still be here, blond and tan and grinning, by the time they scattered my ashes to the wind. I glanced up and saw sadness and longing in his bright eyes; it puzzled me. He had everything, a pack, honor, and strength. What more could a man like him possibly want?
"Just be careful, all right? That's all I ask."
I shrugged, feeling a little sick still. "Fine."
His pager went off and he got up so quickly the chair tipped over. I watched him rush out of the kitchen and heard the front door open and then close again. He was like that, and yet today he'd been different. Naruto's outspoken and casual—one reason why the women at the gym like him—yet he'd been guarded with me, careful with his words. I figured he wasn't being completely honest.
Ah, but for want of a horseshoe...
