the street next to campus. Entitled prick, thought Colin.
The back seat window rolled down, as if they were in some mobster film, and a face Colin knew from the media, if not his own memory, looked out at him.
“Well hi there, sugah,” she said, in a drawl as fake as her hair color.
“Hello, Mother.”
7
Cafe Riders in the Sky
Lexi Blanc, in the flesh, right there in front of Colin. Well, in a stretch limo but still, right there. Colin stared at his mother, some alien creature here to abduct him, or experiment on him, or something. He half expected a probe to unfold from her bouffant hairdo.
She was unbelievably beautiful. He knew that from her online images but up close, in person, was worse. She was Alpha − most female werewolves were − and she had taken pains to focus all that Alpha charisma through her appearance, like a magnification lens made of face powder.
Besides, Alpha power only really worked well in person. A photograph of Alec couldn’t convey to the world how safe he smelled, how bossy-kind he was. How Colin always knew that Alec had the pack’s best interests at heart. And how Alec was only disappointed when Colin failed himself or hurt the pack.
A photograph of Lexi Blanc, even a video of her, couldn’t show Alpha-ness. Meeting her face-to-face, Colin felt it in his bones – that he was a lesser wolf, a rank-less weakling, hers to play with and manipulate. She knew she was his superior. She knew she could order him to do anything and he’d probably do it. And he knew it. Without his pack to buffer him, to protect him from another Alpha, Colin felt belly up, exposed, shaky, and terribly alone.
He wanted to bolt. He didn’t know if she had VOICE, but if she did, he was within range. Running would do him little good. But he didn’t want to move any closer, either. He didn’t want to smell her. Didn’t want to be comforted, if her scent reminded him of a childhood he’d never had. Didn’t want to feel his hackles raise if she smelled like a stranger or an enemy.
She didn’t do or say anything further, just stared at him. Her lips were so much like his, and her chin and eyes, her hair artfully streaked and darker red. But still red. There was no denying that face – he saw a version of it every morning in the mirror.
Colin stood, frozen, staring back – motorcycle helmet still half on his head.
Maybe a few seconds passed, maybe a minute. A part of Colin registered that she’d catch attention soon – in that car with that face, someone was bound to recognize her. So he wasn’t at all surprised when she rolled the tinted window back up. In fact, he expected it. Expected her to just drive on. Leaving him wondering why she’d bothered to come looking for him, or if it was all a coincidence.
But the limo stayed where it was. The door she’d just been looking out of popped open.
More than anything, Colin wanted to ask her why. Not why was she here, or why had she come, but why had she left in the first place? Not for himself, but for Kevin. Kevin, whose pain was bright in his childish memory. Colin didn’t really remember his mother, but he remembered his older brother’s misery more than he remembered his own. His big, bright, charming older brother who’d sobbed in his bed across the room until Colin started climbing in next to him, hugging him close. Kevin who’d wailed that child’s word why? into Colin’s neck as if he were the younger sibling.
Colin knew down to his shifting bones that his brother still wanted an answer to that question. Why abandon Kevin, who’d tried so hard to be perfect for her? Kevin, who she’d praised for his achievements in sports, for his physical beauty, for his bold personality. Kevin, who she’d looked at with such pride, her golden boy, yet who she still left behind.
Their dad was clearly an asshole. No surprises there. Colin was a disappointment, weak and inferior. He’d been deemed insufficient from the moment he was born. He knew exactly why she’d left him. But he needed an answer for his brother. Kevin would never ask her himself.
Colin took his time locking his helmet back onto his bike. He walked over slowly to that open limo door – not out of reluctance, but to keep any eagerness