Chapter 92: Who She is.
Angela spent the entire night staring at the phone number Sarah had given her. She sat at her kitchen table, the small piece of paper in front of her, a cold cup of coffee beside it. Every time she reached for her phone, fear stopped her hand halfway.
What would she learn? What truth was waiting on the other end of that call?
But then she thought of Carla’s final moments, the way she’d screamed Bella’s name, the terror in her eyes. She thought of Jonathan standing in that hospital hallway with no emotion on his face. She thought of that leather pouch he’d hidden so desperately.
By morning, Angela had made her decision.
She picked up her phone and dialed the number. It rang three times before someone answered.
"Who gave you this number?" The voice was male, deep, cautious.
"Sarah Mitchell. She was my sister’s nurse."
There was a long pause. "Your sister was Carla Rivers."
"Yes. She died two days ago and I need to know what happened to her."
"What you need to know and what you can handle knowing are two different things."
Angela’s grip tightened on the phone. "Try me."
Another pause. "Not over the phone. We meet in person or not at all."
"Where?"
"Riverside Park. The bench near the fountain. One hour. Come alone and tell no one where you’re going."
"How will I know who you are?"
"You won’t need to. I’ll know you."
The line went dead.
An hour later, Angela sat on a bench near the fountain in Riverside Park. The morning was cold, and few people were around. She kept her hands in her coat pockets, trying not to look as nervous as she felt.
A man approached and sat down beside her. He was in his sixties, gray hair, weathered face, dressed in a simple jacket and jeans. He didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead at the fountain.
"Angela Rivers," he said quietly.
"That’s me. Who are you?"
"Someone who knew your sister. Someone who tried to warn her before it was too late."
Angela turned to look at him. "Warn her about what?"
"About what she was married to."
"Jonathan."
"Jonathan Rivers isn’t human. Not entirely. And neither was your sister."
Angela felt her stomach drop. "What are you talking about?"
The man finally looked at her, his eyes sharp and serious. "Your sister was a werewolf, of the Moonblood lineage, one of the strongest and oldest bloodlines that exists. You would have been one too if the gene had activated in you, but it skipped you and went to Carla instead."
Angela’s mind was spinning. "You’re insane."
"Am I? Then explain how your sister died. The doctors found nothing wrong with her organs, no disease, no poison, nothing medical that could account for her death. That’s because she wasn’t killed physically. She was attacked in the spirit realm."
"The spirit realm?"
"Where werewolves can fight without their physical bodies. It’s an ancient battleground, invisible to humans but very real to those who can access it." He pulled out a folder from inside his jacket and handed it to her. "Look at these."
Angela opened the folder with shaking hands. Inside were photographs of Jonathan meeting with people she didn’t recognize. But what caught her attention was one photo in particular. It showed a woman with sharp features and cold eyes standing beside Jonathan.
"Who is this?"
"Maren. Principal of Whitethorn Academy where your niece Bella is currently enrolled."
Angela’s blood ran cold. "What does she have to do with this?"
"Everything. Maren is the leader of a rival werewolf clan. She’s been hunting Moonbloods for decades, eliminating anyone who could challenge her power. Your sister was her target, and now Bella is."
"You’re saying Maren killed Carla?"
"In the spirit realm, yes. She attacked Carla’s wolf spirit, tore it apart piece by piece until there was nothing left. Your sister’s body died because her spirit was destroyed."
Angela felt sick. "And Jonathan? What’s his role in this?"
"Jonathan is part of Maren’s clan. He married your sister to get close to her, to monitor her, to make sure she never came back to her Moonblood abilities. When Carla started to fight for and shield Bella against her attacks, Maren decided she had to die."
"Why didn’t Jonathan just kill her himself?"
"Because Moonblood wolves are protected by ancient laws. Killing one directly brings consequences even Maren can’t escape. So she did it in the spirit realm where the rules are different, where it looks like natural death to anyone who doesn’t know better."
Angela stared at the photos, her mind refusing to accept what she was hearing but unable to deny the pieces that were fitting together. Carla’s strange illness that no doctor could diagnose. The way she’d talked about feeling something attacking her from inside. Her final words about Bella needing protection.
"What about Bella?" Angela whispered. "Is she safe at that school?"
The man’s expression darkened. "No. Whitethorn Academy isn’t a normal boarding school. It’s a prison for young werewolves. Maren keeps them there, suppresses their abilities, and when they become too powerful or too aware, she eliminates them."
"Then I need to get Bella out of there. I need to bring her home."
"You can’t. If you try to remove Bella from that school, you’ll alert Maren that someone knows the truth. She’ll kill you immediately and then she’ll kill Bella to tie up loose ends."
Angela’s hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped the folder. "So what am I supposed to do? Just let them kill my niece?"
"No. You help me gather evidence of what Maren is doing. Not for the police, they can’t help with supernatural matters. But there are other Moonbloods out there, survivors who’ve been hiding from Maren for years. If we can prove what she’s done, if we can show them that she’s breaking the ancient laws, they’ll come out of hiding and fight."
"How do we gather evidence against werewolves?"
"The same way you’d gather evidence against anyone. Documents, testimonies, proof of her crimes. Maren may be supernatural but she still leaves traces. We find those traces, we build a case, and we present it to the Moonblood council."
"There’s a council?"
"There was, before Maren scattered them. But they still exist, hidden, waiting for someone brave enough to challenge her. Your sister tried before she died. Now it’s your turn."
Angela looked at the photos again, focusing on one that showed Jonathan with that leather pouch. "What’s in that pouch he carries?"
"Suppression powder. Made from wolfsbane and other herbs that weaken Moonblood abilities. He was putting it in Carla’s food and drinks for years, keeping her wolf dormant. That’s why she never fully transformed again, never really used her powers until it was too late."
"He was poisoning her."
"Slowly. Methodically. Making sure she stayed weak enough that Maren could attack her spirit without resistance."
Angela closed the folder, her decision made. "What do you need me to do?"
"First, you need to understand what you’re getting into. These people don’t fight with lawyers and courts. They fight with claws and teeth. If they discover you’re working against them, they will kill you. No trial, no second chances. Never forget you’re human."
"I understand."
"Second, you can’t tell anyone about this. Not your lawyer Morrison, not the police, not anyone. The moment you involve normal authorities, you put them in danger and alert Maren that someone’s investigating her."
"What about the wrongful death case I started?"
"Drop it. Or at least pretend to drop it. Make it look like you’re giving up, that you’re too grief stricken to continue. That will make Maren and Jonathan relax their guard."
Angela nodded. "And then what?"
"Then we start gathering real evidence. I need you to go through Carla’s belongings. Look for anything she might have written about her experiences, any journals, notes, recordings. Moonbloods often document strange occurrences before they fully awaken. If Carla kept records, they could be crucial."
"I can do that."
"I also need you to watch Jonathan carefully. Don’t confront him, don’t let him know you suspect anything. Just observe. Where does he go? Who does he meet with? What’s in that pouch he carries? Document everything but stay safe."
"How will I contact you?"
He handed her a different phone number written on a new piece of paper. "This number only. Don’t save it in your phone, memorize it and destroy the paper. Call me once a week to report what you’ve found."
Angela memorized the number and tore the paper into tiny pieces, letting them scatter in the fountain’s spray.
"One more thing," the man said as he stood to leave. "You asked me what they’re planning to do to Bella."
"Yes."
His expression was grim. "The same thing they did to your sister, just slower. They’ll keep her at that school, suppress her abilities with their potions and powders, and when she turns eighteen and her Moonblood powers try to fully awaken, Maren will attack her spirit just like she attacked Carla’s. Bella will die of mysterious causes that no doctor can explain, and Jonathan will inherit everything as her only living parent."
Angela felt tears burning her eyes. "How long does she have?"
"Bella turns eighteen in three months. After that, Maren will move quickly. So we have three months to gather evidence, rally the surviving Moonbloods, and stop her. If we fail, your niece dies and the Moonblood line comes one step closer to extinction."
He started to walk away but Angela called after him. "Wait. You never told me your name."
He turned back, a sad smile on his weathered face. "Marcus. I was your sister’s friend, one of the few Moonbloods who escaped Maren’s purge. I promised Carla I’d protect Bella if anything happened to her. I failed to save your sister, but I won’t fail to save her daughter."
Then he was gone, disappearing into the morning crowd.
Angela sat alone on the bench, the folder of photographs clutched in her hands, her mind reeling from everything she’d learned. Werewolves. Spirit realms. Ancient bloodlines and supernatural wars.
It sounded insane. It should have been impossible.
But deep down, Angela knew it was true. She’d seen too much, heard too much, felt too much to deny it anymore.
Her sister had been murdered by supernatural forces, and now her niece was in the same danger. The police couldn’t help. The courts couldn’t help. Normal human authorities had no power in this world.
Angela stood up and walked out of the park, her jaw set with determination. If the normal world couldn’t save Bella, then Angela would learn to navigate the supernatural one. She would find evidence, rally allies, and expose Maren for what she was.
She had three months.
She wouldn’t waste a single day.