White Wolf 2: The Call of a Soul Read Online Free PDF Page A

chance. Anything to stop this relentless longing for Mike.
    Minutes passed and sleep proved elusive. At three thirty, she decided to be productive. She washed up, dressed in a fresh uniform, grabbed her cell, purse, and shoes, retrieved the journal from the hamper, and snuck into the living room. She set the phone alarm for four and covered her legs with the worn but comfy fleece throw kept on the couch. The clip-on light she kept for the occasional sleepless night looked like it would dent the battered leather covers of the book, so she attached it to the table and adjusted the journal in her lap.
    Susie had been on the money. The calligraphy-style writing proved difficult to read, but after a few stumbles, Melanie’s pace picked up. The first tale was entitled “Haa’lingan Kitchimee”—The Creation of the Earth.
    The buzz alarm on her cell phone startled Melanie into a gasp. She’d been so completely ensnared by the legends that for a moment she was disoriented. Melanie glanced down at the journal, gritted her teeth against the temptation to read one more paragraph, tucked the book into her purse, and set about preparing lunch for everyone.
    Thoughts jumped willy-nilly as she worked.
    Had the two wolf sets, the black and the white, really begun in a deep underground cave that bordered Canada and the US?
    According to the maggishawi’s notes, the Cwaatchii had once been one species fathered by the Gaa’lingan , the great earth spirit. They had lived in Ma'ghiciwa , the sacred diamond- and gold-dusted caverns that ran the entire west line of what was now Lake Superior.
    Gaa’lingan loved his children and blessed them with his wisdom and many magical powers. The Cwaatchii prospered and populated the labyrinths of Ma’ghiciwa with loving bitches and powerful males. Most were content to live off the fish in the many streams and saw no need to venture aboveground.
    The sun spirit, O'aajiisi , grew jealous of being denied the Cwaatchii and sent a child of his own, Miigawashi , a bird whose song entranced all living creatures, to lure the Cwaatchii to his fiery heat. The Miigawashi enticed the beta males with the promise of alpha powers gifted from O’aajiisi.
    Melanie packed the lunches into three containers, donned her shoes, grabbed coat and purse, and hurried out the front door. The walk to the bus stop in the semidark always spooked her. This morning though, with her head filled with notions of enchanted birds, sun and earth spirits, and mystical creatures, she jumped at every frog croak and owl hoot; even the normal soothing cicada song had the hairs on her forearms and neck tingling.
    Melanie didn’t relax until she boarded the bus.
    “Mornin’, sweet girl,” Mac, the bus driver, greeted her.
    “Good morning to you.” Melanie usually sat at the front and chatted with Mac, but this morning a stranger occupied the first seat, so she continued on and sat in the back. She had grabbed the clip light on the way out, and this gave her the perfect opportunity to read more of the legend.
    The hissing sound of the bus doors opening captured her attention, and she glanced up to see that the stranger had exited. Frowning, she twisted around to check the direction the stranger took, but he had vanished. Uneasiness sailed a shiver across her bared nape. She shook her head. It was the cold, not a premonition; after all, she’d forgotten her scarf.
    Sighing, because she couldn’t be rude and not go up and talk to Mac, she stood and made her way to the front, sat across from the bus driver, and asked, “Who was he?”
    “Not the talkative type. Didn’t get more than a grunt out of him.” Mac geared down, and the bus’s transmission protested with a long-drawn-out grating. “One ’a these days, Herbie ain’t gonna make it up this hill.”
    Melanie smiled. Mac had named the bus Herbie, after his favorite movie, The Love Bug . While he complained about the vehicle, he was absolutely proud of the ancient automobile and