Lucky: Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever owned any part of the book, "Blood and Chocolate," by Annette Curtis Klause. I do, however, love her characters, and I hope she doesn't mind me writing a story about them. Also, in order to make the relationships in this story legal, all of the characters have been aged up by three years.

He was there when Vivian came home from school. Tall and broad shouldered, he filled the room while sitting on the couch. Vivian closed the door behind her and knelt to take off her shoes, missing the invisibility of school.

"Hey, Viv." The thunder of his voice rumbled across the large living room.

Return the greeting. "Gabriel." She stood and put her jacket in the closet before pulling up her backpack.

"How was school?"

Answer the question. "Fine."

On her way to the stairs, she made the mistake of looking over at him. Even lounging on the couch, at rest, he was a predator. If his physique hadn't given him away, his eyes would have. He stared at her, stared through her, and she felt his gaze down to her bones.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?"

Pull it together, Gandillon. "I assume it's about the meeting?" By eight o'clock, the living room would be filled with the snarling, broken remnants of the Pack, and in the absence of an Alpha Male, Gabriel and Uncle Rudy had begun sharing the leadership duties.

Gabriel nodded, never breaking eye contact. "Do you know when Rudy will be back?"

"His shift ends at 4:00, so he should be home soon." Please just let me leave.

A moment passed, and he said nothing more, so Vivian started to climb the stairs up to her room, her bed and the sweet release of sleep.

"Viv, are you okay?"

His voice was warm, intimate and genuine, and Vivian paused. Of course I'm not. How could I be okay? What's the point in asking that? She turned, risking another glance at him. His expression was partly concern, mostly unreadable. How can he see right through me when I can't begin to understand him? It's not fair. She nodded, "Yeah. I'm just tired."

He held her gaze a moment too long, face unmoving, working through her lie. "Going to take a nap?"

Cautious gratitude washed over her. "Yes."

His expression softened, "I'll tell Rudy you're sleeping."

"Thanks." Vivian made her way up the stairs, away from Gabriel's attention. Out of sight, her facade slipped away slowly. Her shoulders drooped as she walked to her bedroom, and the backpack slid out of her hands and onto her floor. She closed the door behind her, locking it, and began pulling off her clothes. Throwing on her worn pajamas, Vivian crawled into bed and clutched her pillow. The hollowness in her chest, the aching void at her center, throbbed, and Vivian pressed her face into the pillow and let loose the tears she'd been fighting since homeroom.

Mr. Antony couldn't have known why she'd rushed out in the middle of morning announcements, but at least he didn't stop her. The trigger, a seemingly innocuous notice about the upcoming graduation ceremony, had set off thoughts of her future and all the life events her dad would never see, all of the memories they'd never share. Down the hall, in a bathroom stall, Vivian had fought it, fought hard, but here in her room she let go.

Eventually the tears slowed and exhaustion took hold. Vivian lay under the covers, half asleep, and wondered, am I okay? No. No, I am not. She sighed and turned onto her side. I am very, deeply not okay. Closing her eyes against the dying afternoon light, she curled up and let sleep claim her.

Curled up in her armchair, Vivian numbly surveyed the stewing mass of loup-garou. There were so few of the old pack left now; new faces, strays probably, filled the spaces left by the dead and the deserters. Nothing about this felt real, it all blended into the waking nightmare of the past year.

At the focus of the room, the fireplace, where her father should have been, Gabriel and Rudy stood in silent conference. Around them, the pack socialized, growing louder by the minute. Esme, Vivian's mother, sat to Vivian's right, muttering something about Astrid, the red-haired woman lounging on the bay window seats. Vivian glanced over to catch Astrid eyeing something with blatant interest, and as she looked over she saw that something was Gabriel. Vivian wanted to be annoyed at a woman in her late thirties chasing after a 27 year old, but she wasn't exactly in a place to throw stones. After all, Esme past forty and pulling the same shit.

One year. Has she already forgotten Dad?

Across the room, a feral posse of five teenage boys busied themselves being loud and obnoxious. The Five, as they were called, were Vivian's nearest age-mates. They were also insufferable pigs. Rafe, the de facto leader, seemed to be regaling his comrades with a tale of some girls' breasts, if his hand motions were any indication. Storytime stopped for a moment when Lucien, Rafe's alcoholic father, turned around and threatened them with an upraised fist. The Five quieted, at least until Lucien turned back around, Rafe flipped him off and started up again.

Rudy and Gabriel's conference ended, and Rudy turned to face the crowd with raised hands, "Can we have quiet, please?"

Vivian hugged herself in her armchair. The assembly grew silent, all eyes turning toward the fireplace and the men running the show. Dad should be up there. Vivian pushed the thought away. Yes, Ivan should be here, leading the meeting, but he'd died in the fire in West Virginia, along with a substantial portion of the Pack.

Vivian tried to listen to Rudy's voice, to let its familiarity soothe her, but instead it rankled. The Pack. Vivian looked around the room, barely recognizing the people around her. Newcomer or not, they were strangers now.

Maybe I'm the stranger. It was the simpler explanation, wasn't it? Maybe they were the same as ever, and she was the one who had changed.

I haven't changed. Vivian brushed away the growing moisture under her eyes. I can't change. I'm stuck. I wander around like a ghost, a specter trapped in my own misery. Vivian tried to pay attention to the matter at hand, the topic that seemed to be causing so much contention, but not crying took what little energy she had to spare.

The room grew louder and louder, and everyone sounded like they were on the verge of shouting. Vivian saw the Pack's ancient healer, Persia, cut down Lucien with an acidic quip while Esme and Astrid were arguing and talking over each other, a rapid-fire torrent of catty bile spewing from their mouths. Rudy was trying to regain order and failing utterly.

The only person who wasn't adding to the noise was Gabriel. He stood aside, watching Rudy's attempts at control and clearly losing his patience.

As Vivian looked over at him, Gabriel glanced at her. Their eyes met, and Gabriel gave a small, conspiratorial smile. It confused Vivian for the moment it took her to realize, Oh. He's not the only silent one in the room. She sat there, almost unaffected by the turmoil around her, and between the two of them the room's tension eddied like whitewater rapids.

Vivian held Gabriel's gaze. As disarmed as his stare could make her, she couldn't help but to also feel safe. Implicit in his attention was his care, and right now, in this room, she craved it.

Looking over at Rudy, she saw that he had totally lost control. She looked back at Gabriel, eyes asking the question he couldn't have heard from her lips. He sighed, strode up to and onto the coffee table, and shouted, "QUIET!"

The room stilled to dead silence. His roar cut through the bickering, and he had the attention of everyone, Vivian most of all.

Over on the bay window seat, Astrid made her appreciation plain, and without turning her head, Vivian could see Esme staring with frank interest. Vivian rolled her eyes, and looked back to Gabriel.

After scanning the room, daring disobedience, he spoke. "If you're done arguing, Rudy has more to say." He stepped off of the coffee table and back against the fireplace, letting the smaller, older male have the floor again. "Thank you, Gabriel. As I was saying..." Rudy continued speaking, but Vivian had stopped trying to pay attention. Standing up on the pretense of getting some water, Vivian could feel Gabriel's eyes on her as she left the room. Suddenly, she had to get away, away from these people, away from their politics, but most of all away from him.