Primal Promise

Two

Standing in the stairwell, Jameson felt his heart hammering. The memory of that night and all that'd lead up to it came back to him with all the kindness of a sledgehammer pedicure. 

The morning it had happened, he'd been happily at home, his cabin was small, fairly nondescript for a man of his means. He inherited several homes after his father died, but his favorite was at Diamond Lake. It was where he could escape the emails and phone calls. There he could breathe the clear air, the rich smell of earth and trees and old growth. There he could be himself without fear he'd do harm to himself or another. 

His mother had died when he was very young. To lose one's mate was something he could sympathize with now, but at the time, all he'd known was that father turned cold and distant when he needed him most. 

James Holt owned several very lucrative businesses and the time he spent keeping them going kept him away from home a lot. Except for a week at summertime. Then they'd head to the house near Diamond Lake. No work, just his dad making dinner and watching movies and being around. It was the best. 

The summer he'd turned ten, he had been walking along the lakeside when he saw a girl, perhaps five years old. She was very intent on building a little house out of mud and twigs. He really didn't like little kids, they were loud and ran everywhere, always breaking your stuff, but this girl was different. 

She was quiet and deeply intent on her building. Her hair was short, barely passing her ears, and mud was streaked through the ginger strands from how often she'd pushed it back off her face as she worked. He had walked over to her and, for some reason, kicked the house down. 

He'd expected her to cry. To throw a tantrum. To call her mommy and run away to get kisses and ice cream like all the other spoiled brats around here. Instead, she spoke quietly, a heavy sadness that was beyond her years in the small voice. "It was unkind." She stood up, her muddy hands clasping in front of her, then she turned on her bare feet and walked away without looking back. 

Idly, he began to re-create the house as best he could, feeling guilty and angry with himself. Why had he been so mean? If he allowed himself to be honest, it was because he secretly wished he was one of them. Those kids whose parents' showered them with affection. She was long gone, but his curiosity was piqued by the fact she was not like the other kids he'd watched. 

All week he became her personal stalker. She was strange. It wasn't as if she never acted normal, she did. She played and ran and colored and ... normal stuff, but then out of nowhere she'd stop and just look out across the lake with the oddest smile, then go back to what she was doing. She never screamed or squealed, but when she laughed she did so without restraint. The other kids seemed to avoid her so whenever she was away from her parents, he would take his chance to go and talk to her. 

He was aware she wasn't like the other kids, but he understood somehow she wasn't like him either. Jameson knew what awaited him when he reached maturity. His people had many names throughout the world. His tribe were the Kasabe. Skinwalkers. He hadn't earned his skin yet, but he already had very acute senses. He could smell her, and she smelled human, but not. There was something there he couldn't figure out, but it wouldn't leave him alone. He hated not knowing things. 

"PSST!" he whispered at the edge of the cabin she was sitting in front of. The other kids were running in circles playing tag or with their toys. This girl was just looking across the lake at the mountain. She seemed sad and thoughtful but when she turned her head and fixed her eyes on him, a smile came that made him think he'd been imagining the sadness. She hopped off the porch and walked toward him, stopping just a few feet away from the edge of the woods where he was crouched down.