Target (Page 28)

"Your office is downstairs, beside mine," Winkler led Ashe down the steps and through another hall. Winkler had the office with the gulf view; Ashe could see the guesthouse from his. It didn’t matter; if he wanted to see water, he only had to go to the kitchen, the media room or just go outside and take the wooden walkway to the beach.

"I like this, Mr. Winkler," Ashe breathed.

"Good. I like it too. Now, why don’t you grab something to drink from the fridge and go out to the deck? Watch the waves roll in until lunch?"

"Sure." Ashe followed Winkler to the huge kitchen, where a short, bald man who introduced himself as Jimmy was busy preparing a meal. Winkler got a soda with Ashe and walked out to the massive deck behind the media room.

"This is one of my favorite spots," Winkler settled into a cushioned rattan chair. Ashe sat nearby, setting his soda on a glass-topped table beside the chair. He watched waves pile up on the beach while tourists walked past and brown pelicans and seagulls flew by, calling out in flight.

"Do they always fly like that?" Ashe watched a line of brown pelicans flap by, so close he could almost reach out and touch them. It looked as if they were playing follow the leader.

"A lot of the time," Winkler grinned. "You’ll see a few of the white pelicans, too, but they’re not as common here. I’ve invited your parents and your friends over tonight for a cookout," Winkler went on. "I think your father will come after sunset. The rest will be here around seven."

"Thanks," Ashe said.

"Come on, you can do this," Marco was forcing Ashe to run in the late afternoon sun. Ashe had his shirt off, sunscreen slathered on and was working to keep up with Marco and Trajan. They ran easily on the beach, and Ashe watched as bits of shell and a stray jellyfish or two blurred past as he forced himself to take longer strides. "See, those long legs can work for you," Trajan grinned. Ashe knew the nearly seven-foot werewolf was playing with him and could likely leave him behind and stranded if he wanted. "And tomorrow, you’ll be in the weight room again at seven."

"What sport did you play in school?" Ashe was breathing hard.

"Basketball mostly," Trajan said. "Got a scholarship. Had to turn it down. Can you see me out of town at a scheduled game during the full moon?" Trajan shook his head. "So, now I take all my frustrations out on my trainees."

"You went to a human school." Ashe didn’t make it a question.

"Ashe, most werewolf children do. A lot of those kids don’t know what they are until they go through the change the first time. I gotta tell you, the werewolf kids in those experimental communities turn a lot faster than those in the human schools. Dad says it’s because they know what they are from the beginning. The rest aren’t told because the secret is too hard to keep. Some don’t turn until they’re eighteen or nineteen. I think it’s instinct—the wolf knows it’s not safe."

"Wow, Trajan. How old were you?" Ashe hoped he wasn’t prying.

"Seventeen," Trajan replied. "Trace didn’t turn until he was eighteen and about to graduate. It was hard, spending that last year in high school, suddenly realizing I was something else and couldn’t ever play pro like I wanted."

"Trajan, I’m sorry about that," Ashe said. And he was. He felt a bit of kinship with Winkler’s Second at that moment. Ashe was worried that he’d never be able to attend college, or do much of anything that called attention to himself. He was hunted and he could never forget that.

"Kid, I think you know how I feel," Trajan said and ran ahead.

Ashe took off his shoes when they reached the stretch of sand in front of the beach house and walked into the water. "This is a long way from Cloud Chief, isn’t it?" Marco said, wading in beside him.

"Yeah. Do you ever talk to Randy Smith?" Ashe asked, gazing out over the horizon. The water stretched before him as far as he could see.

"Every now and then, by email. I think Cori talks to him more often than I do," Marco sighed. "He’s working for a newspaper in Chicago, now."

"He could write really well," Ashe agreed. He’d seen the essay Randy had written at age thirteen.

"Still can. Graduated with honors from the University of Illinois. His dad, Terry, was from that area. Dawn sent him up there because Terry’s brother lives in the area. Dawn went back to the Santa Fe Pack, last I heard. She stays in contact with Randy. Anyway that’s what Randy tells Cori."

"I hope he’s all right," Ashe said. "I was hoping I’d hear from him once in a while, but never got anything."

"Ashe, I think that’s not his fault," Marco whispered. Ashe thought about that for a moment.

"Compulsion," Ashe sighed.

"Yeah."

"I think that word is worse than cursing to me," Ashe said. "It worries me that someday, nobody will remember who I am except the vampires. And that frightens me." It worried Ashe, too, that it might drive a wedge between him and his father.

"I hope that doesn’t happen," Marco said. "It’s bad enough that Dad asked for Sali’s memory to be altered."

"Marco, I can’t talk to Sali about any of this stuff anymore," Ashe allowed the defeat to come out in his voice. "I’ve been isolated from my best friend. I don’t know how they could think I’d feel anything other than angry about that."

"Ashe, if there comes a day when I don’t remember any of this stuff, I just want you to know that it wasn’t my idea, and that before that happened, I thought you were probably the most amazing shifter I’d ever met."

"Thanks, Marco." Ashe felt a flush creeping into his cheeks, but he ignored it, turning his face into the breeze coming off the water.

"Ashe!" Adele gave him a hard hug when she walked into Winkler’s beach house later. Ashe had taken a long shower before dressing in clean jeans and a T-shirt. He walked around barefoot, thinking he probably needed sandals—that’s what Winkler was wearing around the house.

Sali, Marcus and Denise were hugging Marco before Cori got to do the same. Sali, looking tan from working in the peach groves, grinned at Ashe. Wynn had come with Dori and Lavonna, and she was staying close to Sali’s side. Ashe observed Dori, thinking at first that she watched Wynn. That wasn’t the case. He realized after a while that Dori’s eyes followed Sali everywhere, with bare longing on her face. Silently he railed against the injustices life dealt.

The cook had prepared barbecued ribs and chicken for the crowd, with potato salad, baked beans, rolls and apple pie for dessert. The food was good; Ashe sat at a table with Sali, Wynn, Dori, Marco and Cori, eating and talking. Cori had her cheek against Marco’s arm after a while and Marco smiled down at her. Ashe sighed.