Chapter 4: Jack

His motorcycle tore up the road as Jack Grey sped through town, winding his way over the asphalt roads that led back to his village in the woods. When he was obeying all of the traffic laws and going the speed limit, it would take ten minutes at best to get there; under these circumstances, he expected to make it in less than five.

Assuming he didn’t run into Sheriff Meyer or any of his men. Jack didn’t need another citation for speeding.

If they had any idea what his reflexes were capable of, they wouldn’t be worried about him crashing. It would be nearly impossible for him to collide with any other vehicle or lose control of his.

But then… he shouldn’t have been involved in the collision in the grocery store either.

He could’ve avoided it. Thinking back, he could’ve moved to the other side of the aisle or darted around her. But then, the girl would’ve likely noticed how quickly he had moved, and that wouldn’t be good either.

It was better this way. She had hit her head pretty hard when she ran into his chest, but he doubted that she had suspected anything other than the fact that he lifted weights frequently.

Which he did not.

He didn’t need to.

That was beside the point.

Jack turned onto the gravel road that led to the village and slowed down only slightly. It was a little harder to control the bike on loose rocks. It also wouldn’t do his paint job any good if a rock was to hit the bike. He’d spent too much on this ride to have it chipped up for no good reason.

Not that the girl wasn’t a good reason, but she wasn’t going to get into any trouble in the next few minutes.

At least, he didn’t think she would. She wasn’t even near the woods right now. She should be fine.

He turned left and wound down a dirt path that took him further into the woods. No one traveled this road except for the people that lived in the village, and there were only thirty-four of them, so it wasn’t used frequently. But then, most of the roads around Cook weren’t used frequently.

Pulling to a stop in front of his house, Jack turned his bike off and hit the kickstand with his boot as he hurried to the front door. His parents’ house was way too flashy to be situated in town where people would wonder where they’d gotten all of their money. It wasn’t any of their business, but as far as they knew, his father was an insurance salesman in Bozeman, and unless he was taking money under the table, there was really no reason for him to have such a nice house.

People from town didn’t come out here, so it wasn’t a big deal, and everyone who lived in the village knew the truth. Most of them had pretty nice houses, too. Jack’s mother preferred Victorian-style homes, so their house stuck out a bit from the others, which were mostly large cabins. The houses were fairly spread out from one another, too, so even though it was a village, you couldn’t see all of the houses from any one road.

He ran up the porch steps and threw open the front door, not even sure who he was looking for. Who did he need to confide in? His parents? His siblings? His grandmother? All of them? His heart was beating so fast, it reminded him of the drumming he’d heard coming from the girl. She had no idea he could hear her heart beating.

He could hear the oxygen coming in and out of her lungs.

He could smell the fresh perspiration dotting her forehead when her cheeks flushed.

But that wasn’t the scent that had concerned him.

It was that other smell, one he hadn’t smelled in years.

The smell of reifes blut.

“Jack? Is everything okay?” His mother, Greta, came into the living room from the kitchen. It had been her need for flour that had sent him into town to begin with, and here he was back at the house without it. Even though they had servants to do that, she still liked to make their meals whenever she had the time. She was very involved with the other families that lived in the village and spent a lot of time tending to the needs of the elderly as well as children and new mothers. His mom was extremely nurturing and kindhearted. Perhaps she was the one he should confide in.

His father, Victor, was coming down the stairs, straightening the cuffs of his white button-down shirt. He was the official village leader, the one everyone turned to whenever there was a problem of any sort. He would need to know of this new development as well.

Telling Alyson and Will could wait unless his siblings happened to come in in the middle of his proclamation.

“What is it, son? You look flustered, and that’s not like you.” His father stopped on the landing and waited for an answer.

“Did you get my flour, honey?”

Jack shook his head. “No, Mom. I’m sorry. I’ll go back. But listen… something happened at the store. Or rather… someone.”

“Someone happened at the store?” Will came into the room, laughing as he spun a basketball around on his finger. “You sound as dumb as Alyson.”

“Don’t make fun of your sister, Will, and no ball in the house!” Greta shot across the foyer to take the ball from her youngest son. “Now, Jack, what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath and said, “I ran into a girl at the grocery store. Rather, she ran into me.”

“And?” Victor asked, the set of his mouth letting Jack know he suspected the important part was yet to come.

“I knew as soon as I smelled her… she’s reifes blut.” He said the words with a German accent, one no one in their family ever spoke in except for when they were discussing the ancient ways.

His parents both stared at him with their foreheads furrowed while Will broke into laughter. “No way!” his brother said. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“I’m serious!” Jack said, slamming his hand down into the table behind the couch. It splintered. His mother’s face morphed into a disapproving look, but she didn’t say anything. “Sorry. I’ll… fix it.”

“I don’t care about the table, honey, if what you’re saying is true. Who was she?”

“I don’t know,” Jack admitted. “I walked into the grocery store, and immediately, I smelled her. She turned around in the cereal aisle and ran into me. She was so embarrassed she took off.”

“Was she with anyone?” his father asked.

Jack nodded. “I didn’t recognize him either, though. Her dad, maybe? Dark hair, mustache.”

“Was he reifes blut?” Greta asked.

Jack shook his head. “No, only her.”

His parents exchanged nervous glances. “We’ll have to tell the council,” Victor said.

“Do you think she’s young enough to be at school?” Greta asked, looking back at Jack.

“I would think so. She looked like she was about my age.”

“I pity anyone who has to move to Cook this late in their school career,” Will mumbled, shaking his head. He stepped over to his mother and took his basketball back, headed toward the back door and the basketball court behind their house.

Jack was fine with seeing him go. His brother was only sixteen and still didn’t quite grasp the significance of this. Even though Jack was only eighteen, and barely that, he had always been a lot more mature than his brother. “This is serious,” Jack reiterated.

His parents agreed with nods. Victor said, “It is. Let’s just hope we can find out who she is and how to protect her. Before they find her.”