Solidify

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  Thank you so much for taking the time to read my novella from Woodland Creek!

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  Solidify (Woodland Creek)

  Copyright © November 2015 Alexia Purdy

  All rights reserved

  Published by

  Lyrical Lit. Publishing

  Cover Design by Jennifer Munswami

  At J.M Rising Horse Creations

  Model Photography Depositphoto.com

  www.alexiapurdybooks.com

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  Dedicated to my fierce family pack. Roar. :)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  About the Author

  To view more maps and information, please visit the

  Woodland Creek Series Website

  Malachi

  “What the—?”

  A flash of white and a spray of feathers was all I got a glimpse of.

  I slammed the brakes while jerking the steering wheel to the left. The sudden action was followed by a head-splitting screech along with the acrid smell of burnt rubber. It filled my nostrils, singeing my nose hairs in the process. To most people, it was a putrid enough stink, but to me, a wolverine shifter, it was downright poisonous and set my throat on fire.

  Coughing it up in spasms, I cleared my lungs of tainted air. Finally, I was able to jump out of the truck to investigate what had jumped in my way. A few feet in front of the truck was a woman, naked and with bloodied knees, holding her head between her hands and rocking back and forth as the wind blew her long blond tresses. Her fair skin gleamed under the sun. If it weren’t for the fact I had to cover my ears to fend off her deafening scream, I would have been entranced.

  There was nothing to indicate where she had come from. There was only a mess of white feathers peppering the road like a massive chicken massacre had just occurred. I backed away toward my truck and reached into the back seat to yank out a picnic blanket I rarely used. Shaking it out, I approached the distraught young woman once more, hoping not to spook her into a worse state.

  “Hey, are you okay? Here,” I called out, holding out the blanket, hoping to capture her attention. Her scream died away, but her wild eyes kept on searching the horizon for something. When I was just three feet away, I leaned down and reached toward her, draping her svelte shoulders with the blanket.

  She didn’t bolt like I expected her to. She didn’t even move.

  “They’re all made of stone,” she mumbled. “Nothing but stone.” She pulled the blanket tight around her terribly bony body and hugged it. Tears streaked her face where dirt clung to her wet cheeks. Leaves stuck to her disheveled hair. “The trees… the sky… flying….” She buried her face in the blanket and began to wail uncontrollably.

  “Um, miss? You okay?” I asked. The amount of feathers surrounding her made me think they’d come from her somehow, but who carries a bag of feathers while naked? Or she was a shifter and had crashed before resuming her human form. Her nakedness just confirmed my suspicions. She had to be a shifter, like me, just a different species. I had probably hit her with my truck while she was in her bird form.

  Great. I just wanted out of this shitty town and now I had to deal with almost killing someone who got in the way? It only made my already impossible day even more ridiculous. If she was injured, I’d definitely be held accountable and be stuck in this podunk town for longer than I ever wanted.

  I’d finally decided to hightail it out of Woodland Creek, forever. I’d lived there all my life, but the oppression I’d felt as of late had finally driven me to the edge of my senses. I knew it didn’t help that I was a self-imposed recluse, but I wasn’t a social kind of guy. I just wanted to be left alone, and this town wanted nothing but to include me in every social event happening and making me feel bad for refusing to cooperate. I’d been hit with fees, tickets and more for ignoring the “mandatory” town hall meetings. Retribution for not following the “rules.” I couldn’t care less, but even I had my limits.

  Inevitably, I’d had enough and had loaded the necessities into the bed of my truck along with all my more important worldly possessions. Even though the truck had seen much better days, it was ready to take me to some other place, far, far away from this mess of a town. I’d left my childhood home locked up tight to await my return, if I ever returned at all.

  It would seem fate had other ideas.

  “Miss?” I asked again, hoping to jolt her out of the trance she was now in. She was rocking back and forth on her feet while squatting and muttering indecipherable words under her breath. If she was hurt, I needed to know if she was bleeding and needed medical attention. She didn’t seem to be too worried about her injuries. It barely occurred to me that whatever had spooked her could still be nearby.

  “Look, miss? Ma’am? Um… we need to get you to a hospital or clinic. You might be hurt. I can take you there. Is that okay? My name is Malachi. Malachi Arend. Do you have a name?”

  I reached out and placed my hand on her thin shoulder. She jerked her head toward me, her eyes no longer crazed. I could physically see her return to herself as she took a swift look around, finally realizing where she was: in the middle of a road. Butt stark naked.

  “I was… I… no! No hospital. No police!” She’d practically yelled the last part, and confusion had returned to her features. I hoped she wasn’t going to pass out as she started hyperventilating. She was at risk of hurting herself further at this point, especially if she tried to stand up.

  Which, of course, she did.

  “Whoa, not so fast, you’ll faint—” I rushed to her side, and she collapsed into my arms, eyes rolling back into her head. Out cold. Propping her up against my chest, I peered around, searching for any other cars which could be approaching. Unfortunately, on a Tuesday after
noon, no one really came and went down this lonely country road into Woodland Creek. I’d chosen to drive this way, instead of along the main highway, for its particular guarantee of isolation. Of all days and all roads, I’d decided to come this way and chosen today to get the hell out of Dodge.

  Crazy, right?

  There were two other ways out of town besides the highway, each as lightly traveled as the next. Why had I chosen this road? I couldn’t say. Talk about a sheer coincidence that she’d be there at the exact same moment.

  Now what?

  Groaning, I heaved her up and carried her to the passenger side of my truck. I struggled to open the truck door while holding her. I wasn’t as coordinated as I was strong, but I eventually managed to get it open and slide her inside. I pulled the seat belt around her and made sure she was still breathing and was well covered by the blanket. A blush of pink had returned to her face as she inhaled shallow but even breaths, making her look like she was just sleeping away the afternoon.

  This stranger was a pretty little thing, with a spray of freckles across her nose and over the arches of her cheeks. Her brilliant platinum-blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight, with prisms of color reflecting off the tresses while her lips displayed a natural kissed pink and were irresistibly plump. She wore no makeup from what I could see, but she didn’t need any.

  Something inside me flipped. In fact, a good portion of my insides decided to twist all at once, and my entire body rose in temperature while I observed her. She smelled amazing, like a floral shop in spring. I flared my nostrils in an attempt to take in every little bit of her scent, wanting to fill my lungs with it until they burst. It was intoxicating and caused a build of heat to roll off me in a maddening rush.

  That wouldn’t do. I was leaving this wretched town forever and couldn’t get hooked. Nothing could ever chain me to this place again. I wouldn’t let it.

  I backed away and slammed the door shut before heading around the front of the truck. This couldn’t be a good thing. I shook off the effects of her scent, clearing my head. Nothing about this seemed right. Her refusal to go to a hospital or police station baffled me, but I had a kinship with her since she was also a shifter, so I understood her desire to avoid those kinds of places. I rarely went to them myself. It was too risky and open for our kind.

  Shoving my concerns to the back burner, I jumped into the driver’s seat once more. I cranked the starter, and the roar of the engine got me focused on what I needed to do. Whipping the truck around, I headed back to the one place that had been my solace for most of my life. My solace but also my curse. It was a place I knew far too well, and for that reason it’d be the safest harbor any shifter could find.

  Home.

  Phoebe

  My eyelids fluttered, followed by a severe pain striking my head. I instinctually reached up to hold my skull together for it would burst if I didn’t. At least, that’s how it felt. Blinking once more as the pain dulled to a subtle throb, I peered around the unfamiliar room, searching for the reasons I was even there.

  I was in a woodsy-looking but spacious cabin with plaid curtains and a musky scent to the furniture. I could tell from the smidge of light snaking past the parted curtains that it had to be late evening. The sun was low, and I struggled to remember the events of the day, but my memory was foggy and failed to produce any clues.

  Flashes of trees, leaves, sky, then asphalt and pain. So much pain and frigid air. I rubbed my temples and attempted to slowly sit up. None of it was making any sense so I stopped trying to make the pieces fit. Maybe it would come back to me later. Yeah. That’s what I’d tell my patients at the hospital when they came in confused or hurt with severe concussions and repeating things over and over again. Just give it some time, it would all come back like a runaway train slamming into me with a violent slap. Just wait.

  I hoped it wouldn’t feel like that. My head was hurting already, and the motion of sitting up did nothing but make my stomach lurch in a swift attempt to lose my lunch.

  Had I even eaten anything? From the subsequent dry heaving, I highly doubted I’d eaten for many hours. My dry, sticky mouth felt like I hadn’t had a drink in the same amount of time. I hoped wherever I was, there would be something to drink and food to consume.

  “Hello?” I called out, my raspy voice barely making its way past my lips. I was naked under the cool, crisp sheet, which smelled faintly of fresh laundry detergent. I clutched it more tightly when I saw a man walk into the room.

  “Ah, Sleeping Beauty has awoken. How are you feeling there?” The man approached slowly, taking a seat in an overstuffed chair facing the sofa I’d been using as a bed.

  “I….” Closing my eyes, I hoped the wave of nausea would subside. It did, but just barely. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in my house on the outskirts of Woodland Creek. Near Old Town.”

  His voice was calm, sympathetic even. That was a good sign. I was a pretty good judge of character when it came to assessing if a person was a danger or not. This guy, so far, appeared harmless. His pupils were focused but non-threatening. His shoulders were relaxed.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I reopened them, I was better able to focus. “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I’m Malachi. Malachi Arend.” He didn’t offer a hand to shake, nor did he get any closer. He cocked his head to one side, eyeing me up and down with obvious curiosity. “And who are you?”

  “I―I….” I stuttered, failing to remember. Why did my name evade me? I knew it. I knew I did. “I’m… Phoebe.” There it was! “What am I doing here?”

  “I can ask you the same thing. I was driving down the road, getting the hell out of Dodge if you catch my drift, and this stark white bird”—he held out his hands to indicate the size—“skimmed the windshield of my truck. I had to slam on my brakes and nearly veered off the road because of it. Right after that, I got out and spotted you, completely naked in the middle of the road.”

  “The road?” My question wasn’t one I needed to be answered by him. I needed it answered by my own mind. “What was I doing there, in the road?”

  He shrugged. “Beats me. You okay? I hope you don’t mind that I brought you here. You refused to go to the hospital, which I can understand since shifters keep on the down low. I just needed to make sure you weren’t severely injured. Rest assured, I kept you well covered. You appear intact and healthy, by the way. Just a smidge of road rash on your knees, one of your thighs and bottom.” He cleared his throat, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

  I reached down and touched the slightly tender skin on the areas he mentioned. They were fine until I pressed down, and the pain made me hiss from the burning sensation of raw skin. At least I hadn’t broken anything.

  “Where are my clothes?”

  “When you shift, you don’t take your clothes with you.”

  “You don’t have any clothes you could spare, right?”

  He held up a finger as he jumped to his feet and grabbed a pile sitting on the wooden coffee table before me. The table—and everything else—looked handmade from logs, and varnished to death.

  “I took the liberty to get some for you. I knew locating yours would be quite impossible. I apologize in advance if they don’t fit, but they belonged to my ex-girl―um, old acquaintance. The clothes might be a bit too big, she was taller than you, but they’ll do the job.” He held them out for me, and I placed them on my lap, curling my fingers around them.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Look, you must be starving. I have dinner ready, just in case. If you’re not up for it, it’s okay. Just thought since it’s been hours since I found you, you might need something to eat.”

  “Um… yeah, sure. I’d really like some water or something to drink, please?”

  He nodded. “Be right back.”

  He was awfully kind. I felt bad I was imposing on his day.

  “Where’s your bathroom?”

  “Down the hall to the left.”

/>   I stood up cautiously, afraid the previous dizziness from whatever had happened to me earlier would return. Letting the slight sway of the room pass before straightening, I finally began to feel better.

  In the bathroom, I took one look at myself in the mirror and frowned. I was a complete hot mess. My face was paler than usual, but a dusty pink was returning to my lips and cheeks. My hair was a nightmare, ready to frighten schoolchildren into the arms of their parents. I dropped the sheet and stared at the stack of clothes he’d offered me. There was even a pair of clean undies with a tag still on them. Thank goodness. It would be quite awkward to wear someone else’s previously worn undergarments. Even if they’d been washed.

  I tore the tag away and slipped them on. There was no bra, but the sweatshirt he’d given me was a dark navy color with the words “Woodland Creek Observatory” on it, which kept me well covered. Slipping on the worn but cozy clothing, along with a matching pair of sweats that I had to tighten to the max with the string tie, I finally felt much more human.

  Human. What had he said about a bird? Feathers? A flash of the sky and hovering over treetops hit me, and I leaned on the sink’s counter, trying to make sense of the snippets of returning memories.

  I’d been flying. But how? Wasn’t that impossible? I can’t fly! I’d never flown in my entire life. But I had. I remembered it clearly now. Soaring through the treetops, panicked, frightened. My arms were wings made of the softest down I’d ever felt. White like snow. I stretched them out and felt the gentle wind caress each feather like a soft brush. My eyesight sharpened, and I could see for miles and miles, and I’d flown, just like a bird.

  A bird?

  No fucking way.

  “I got you a plate. Are you sure you’re all right in there?” Malachi’s voice sounded muffled through the thick wooden door. I was relieved he didn’t jiggle the door knob, for I’d forgotten to lock it. I placed a palm on the back of the door, just in case.