Chapter One

Chapter Two

A/N1: My thanks goes to FlexSis for the wonderful beta for this chapter and helping to make the last half coherent, also for helping clean up a little of chap 1. Note to self: trying to hurry to finish writing a chapter is not a good thing.
******

Nina had never flown first class before but even the more comfortable seating did nothing to assuage the tension that wracked her body. Sure, the flight had been smooth, her seating companion amicable, the stewards personable, but nothing could alleviate the pit in her stomach. Guilt taunted her conscience. Reason told her that Julie and Amanda were safely on their way to their destination. Still, she wasn't with them, and it hurt.

Reason also repeatedly reminded her that this Oz person might be able to help her with controlling the werewolf. Any control or techniques he could teach her that would enable her to safely return to her family would make this hopefully very short separation worth it. She had promised her sister that she would be careful. They had devised a method of communication so that her sister would know how she was faring - the old classic coded classified ad with agreed-upon key phrases. Both she and her sister were huge fans of spy movies.

Looking out from her window onto the Charlotte Douglas International Airport tarmac, she appreciated the vast number of trees. As they approached Charlotte, she had noticed green acreage spaced nicely between clumps of buildings. So different from Los Angeles. Her seatmate, a dear middle-aged lady from what sounded like a quaint town called Mc Adenville, told her that she really needed to come back this way during Christmas. "Dear, everyone decorates their houses, lawns, trees, and from all over people come to see what's been done. Of course, the traffic at times can be tiresome, but 'tis all in the spirit of Christmas."

The plane had taxied to a stop, and Nina could feel everyone's anxiousness to get off the plane and continue onto the next stop, wherever that may be. Ms. Ruby - 'cause that's what everyone called her - leaned over and wished her well.

"Now, Joan, you take care of yourself."

"Thank you, Ms. Ruby. You have a safe journey home."

Even though the lady seemed authentic, heeding Spike's caution, Nina hadn't revealed to Ms. Ruby where she was headed. For all she knew, the lady could be a spy for Wolfram & Hart, and the safety of her family depended upon her discretion. She didn't know who could be trusted, so she'd resolved to trust no one until she met with Oz, and even then she would be cautious.

******
(2 hours later)

Driving through the mountains of North Carolina, Nina loved the smell of the pine trees and various other scents the environment had decided to share. She had the windows rolled down, as the weather was mild. She could tell that it had rained earlier in the day, because she smelled the moisture still clinging to the air. Her werewolf self inwardly howled with delight at the scents and sights, and knew exactly why another of her kind would want to remain in this area.

Blowing Rock. Back at the airport she had purchased several maps and touristy brochures. Yep, just another tourist, that was her. She grabbed information not only about the area where she was headed but - just in case anyone was watching - info on other North Carolina tourist attractions also. The man at the information booth had suggested purchasing an insider's guide, which listed hotels and all sorts of helpful numbers.

While she needed the maps in order to find her destination, Spike had provided the last known address for this 'Oz.' In order to learn more about the area she was headed, Nina had asked Ms. Ruby, as vaguely as she could, what North Carolinians were like, and if they differed from region to region. Ms. Ruby had mentioned the mountain folk, and told Nina that mountain folk tended to be friendly and loyal, and could be very protective.

"I had an older cousin, who lived near Boone, North Wilkesboro," Ms. Ruby had said, "who used to run white lightning - moonshine - during Prohibition. No one from that area would help the federal officers who'd tried to catch and arrest him. Of course," Ms. Ruby had said, "since more outsiders are moving to the mountain areas, some of those traditional ways have eroded. My nephew moved out that way," she said, "and all he complains about are the drivers from Florida who don't know how to drive on the back winding roads." At that, Ms. Ruby had laughed, then continued, "Now, not all the bad drivers are from Florida, but it seems like every one I've personally gotten behind driving on Highway 321 has been from there."

Nina had passed Lenoir fifteen minutes ago; which marked the beginning of the road to the Appalachians. Knowing she had maybe five more minutes before she would see the sign saying she was leaving Caldwell County and entering Watauga County, then another welcoming her to Blowing Rock, Nina reached over to the passenger seat to the envelope Spike had given her. Trying to navigate a curve while at the same time glancing at the address Spike had provided, she realized the best course of action would be to find a place to stop, maybe grab something to eat, and then try to find the cabin.
*****

She had been impressed when she'd rounded the huge curve on the mountain, going under an old-fashioned railroad bridge. There was an exit immediately to her left, announcing 'This Way to the Blowing Rock.' She'd stopped at Holley's Tavern, which had a lovely setting, overlooking a valley of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

She'd ordered a hamburger, bloody. The closer to the full moon, the more Nina's body craved red meat. The waitress - 'Meg,' by her nametag - had looked at her a little strangely, but nodded her head and went to place the order with the cook

As Nina waited for her food, she glanced through the tourist brochures she'd gotten at the airport, pausing on the one for Blowing Rock. The legend, about a young Indian maiden and her beau, was intriguing. Of course, she knew now that many of the things she'd once thought were fictional were real: she'd met two vampires, Lorne, and an ancient demon-god; heck, she herself was a werewolf! As she read the brochure, Nina began to wonder if the legend of Blowing Rock might not also be true, maybe the work of some demon, or even a witch.

According to the legend, the maiden and her brave had been courting near the rock, when red filled the sky. The brave thought that the color warned him to return to his tribe at the bottom of the mountain. The maiden begged him not to go. The brave, completely torn, jumped off the Rock into the gorge below. As the days passed, the maiden prayed to the Great Spirit for his return. One day, the red sky reappeared, and a great wind blew up from the gorge, returning her lover back onto the Rock. It was said that from that day on a perpetual wind blew up from the gorge; even snow blew upwards there.

"That legend holds more romance than Angel," Nina thought, bitterly. Her jaws tightened with anger, and the man that had started to sit down next to her decided to try his luck elsewhere.

As she chewed on her delicious hamburger, she studied her map of Watauga County. She immediately found the road she needed. It appeared to be somewhat close to where she was now. Maybe she would get to Oz's cabin by nightfall. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have a backup plan.

When the waitress returned to refill her water, Nina asked her about lodging. "It's my first time in the area," she said.

"Why sure, sweetie," Meg said. "Days Inn is a jump up yonder. Go back on the road; turn the corner like you were going on to Boone. Now, if you turn left instead of staying on the road, you'll be on 221, and that takes you into downtown Blowing Rock. Lots of shops. Still more up the road a-ways. Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you. I appreciate the help. Oh, and the burger is very good." Nina smiled.

"You're welcome," Meg replied, smiling too. "Be sure to come back and see us before you leave." With that, she placed the bill facedown on the table.

Nina checked it before leaving several ones for a tip. She made sure to tip generously; in case she needed more help in the future, she wanted to be able to count on Meg.

She left the restaurant and started out for the road that hopefully led to Oz's cabin.
*******

A/N2: While the town of Blowing Rock, North Carolina does exist; I am taking creative liberties with the roads and layout of the town. Those who are familiar with Blowing Rock may recognize some landmarks, but the rest is in my creative imagination. Blowing Rock is a beautiful place to visit, especially in the fall when the leaves are at full turning. The Green Valley Inn and the Days Inn are real. Holley's Tavern was located on that lookout going into the town proper; while the restaurant itself still remains, it is under a new name. For this story though, it still has its old name. Some of you, dear readers, may be familiar with the Mitford series by Jan Karon. The town of Mitford in that series is really Blowing Rock; Jan Karon is from my hometown; and the characters in those books are semi-based on actual townsfolk. In fact, 'Mitford' tours have started where tourists get to see where the actual places in that are mentioned in the books are located. While this piece will be nothing like the Mitford books, they are great reads and I highly recommend them. As for the Legend of the Blowing Rock, more information can be found at http://www.theblowingrock.com/legend.html.




A/N1: Inner thoughts and memories are in italics. Thank you to Flex Sis for her wonderful beta.

Chapter Three

Nina had parked her car on the side of the road about a quarter mile down from the cabin. Now she found herself walking along a dirt road, gravel scattered irregularly, as if it had been paved with gravel but no one had bothered to refresh it in the past few years.

After leaving Holley's Tavern, Nina had first acquired a room at the Days Inn and then drove further up Highway 321 North. The turnoff for Oz's address appeared to be between Blowing Rock and Boone, exiting on the Blue Ridge Parkway. While admiring the incredible view from the Parkway, Nina drove south keeping an eye out for her exit road. She passed Julian Price Memorial Park. From the road she could see one long parking lot, which continue til it disappeared into the trees, obscuring any further view inside. However, from what she could see, lush grounds fanned out from both sides of the parking area - an enticement to all to come inside, to relax and play. The parking lot was teaming with families. Some families had made picnics out on the foregrounds, children playing Frisbee and dogs chasing the kids. It made her long for her own family, especially her niece.

After a few more miles, Nina found her exit, and entered a community consisting of campgrounds and cabins. Oz lives here? She rechecked the address on the slip of paper and began to once again search for another road. Driving past several RV parks and a few rental cabins, she discovered the private road. A little mailbox marked the start of the road, which also had a sign prohibiting cars from entering. Interesting.

Nina retraced her drive to the visitors' center of the complex. She'd noticed the place boasted hiking trails and a fishing pond. Great, I can hike and not look out of place.

After picking up a complimentary map and brochure in the visitors' center, she walked back to the private road. Following a nearby trail that seemed to skirt parallel to the private road, she made her way toward what she hoped would be Oz's house.

After walking a good fifteen minutes, Nina finally strolled into a clearing and saw a quaint cabin, with a bubbling brook to her left and wildflowers growing along a path leading to its front door. No other signs of life - well, human life, anyway - were evident as she glanced around. Cautiously, she moved to a window off to the side of the front porch; no lights were on, and she saw no one inside. Still, she knocked on the door and waited a few seconds for an answer, but no response came.

Looking around to make sure no one had snuck up on her, she began to fiddle with the doorknob. The lock appeared simple, so she took out a credit card to slide between the frame and the door. Turning the knob and giving one more look around, Nina successfully opened the door and quickly went inside. Sometimes, being a little sister with a history of being nosy paid off.

Nina found herself in a great room, with a cozy kitchen to her right. An unlit fireplace was directly in front of her on the other side of the room. The interior was Spartan in nature, with only a few pieces of furniture - no more than necessary - filling the rooms she could see. Nina could tell that whoever owned the place first had a country décor, for faded blues and creams painted and trimmed the walls. Apparently, Oz had not decided to paint, or it was a rental property. Yet, even though its muted country colors juxtaposed the Spartan feel of the place, it strangely seemed to work. She guessed it was because the 'country' had been muted and didn't dominate the mood of the cabin. Several guitars were scattered around a couch, some on stands, some not. In a bookcase, she noted a variety of meditation and religious books, with some science fiction novels interspersed among the more serious tomes. On a coffee table that looked as if it had once been half of a barn door, she saw a box of Animal Crackers, three Pez dispensers, some candles, sheet music and a half-empty mug, which smelled like Oolong tea.

The kitchen had a mix of modern appliances and old-fashioned ones. Nina smiled at the vintage 1950s refrigerator aligned with the brushed nickel cabinetry. The kitchen table and chairs looked as if they had come straight from some 1950s soda shop. A faded violet sadly stood in its vase on the center of the table.

She found the bedroom to the left of the front door. Again, its décor was understated. It had an old, wrought-iron bed covered with a homemade quilt, a side table, a set of books piled on the floor, and two lamps - a small one on the table and a large one on the other side, near the open armoire. The bed was messily made, but the pillows looked inviting, very plump. Nina glanced in the armoire, seeing lots of t-shirts.

Before she could investigate further, Nina felt the tiny hairs on the nape of her neck stand at attention. She felt as if someone was watching her. Frantically, she spun around, but no one else was in the cabin. Still, the feeling persisted and Nina knew she had overstayed her welcome; she needed to get out of there.

Grabbing a pen and a piece of paper out of her small knapsack, she quickly scribbled a note to Oz, explaining who she was, that Spike had sent her, and that she would be back. She didn't want to leave where she was staying, 'cause who knew who lurked in the shadows.

She left the cabin and made her way back to her car. Once back in the driver's seat, Nina took a deep breath, realizing that she had barely breathed the entire time she'd been in the cabin. Looking at her watch, she was shocked to discover forty-five minutes had passed. Starting her car, she decided to return to the hotel and change. She would explore downtown Blowing Rock this evening; if nothing else, she could window shop.

****
Downtown Blowing Rock surprised Nina. For one, the place seemed to hum with vitality, and yet maintained a quiet reserve. The two-lane Main Street was packed with cars, reminiscent of a typical Saturday night on Sunset in L.A. Except, instead of being stressed about the traffic, she noticed the drivers appeared calm, some even rolling down their windows to yell out to someone who was sensibly walking on the sidewalk. She had fortunately secured a parking space right on Main Street in front of Blowing Rock Park - the Parking Gods were smiling upon her tonight.

Nina decided to cross the street to at least window-shop and see if she could find a place to eat. Directly across from her parking spot was an antique shop with yellow siding. Several women were standing in front of its smoke-tinted window, admiring some of the wares on display. The variety of shops she discovered called to that primal instinct that she rarely let out - a need to hunt for sales. As stressed as she was, she could use some serious retail therapy. Maybe later, she promised herself. Some shops were already closed for the evening. But she knew she would be back; oh yes, she would be back. Shaking off the need to shop 'til she dropped, Nina continued strolling down Main Street.

Thoughts of Spike popped into her head as she found the Six Pence Pub. Now, normally she didn't believe in signs or omens or whatnot, but standing outside a British pub, on Main Street in Blowing Rock, North Carolina, gave her pause; maybe this was indeed some kind of sign. Hell, she thought to herself, why not give it a try, as a nod to Spike, if nothing else?

The atmosphere of the Six Pence Pub did not disappoint. While the menu did have some American fare, it definitely catered to any Anglophile - bangers & mash; shepherd's pie; beef-Guinness & mushroom pie. Deciding to sit at the bar, Nina ordered a pint of lager and the shepherd's pie.

A few locals chatted with her while she waited for her food. A TV at the bar had CNN on. At first she paid it no attention, but then the announcer said Los Angeles. Curiosity got the better of her, and she turned to see what the report was about. Apparently, an unusual upswing in violence occurred the previous night, with witnesses reporting strange phenomena. Of course, those witnesses were the homeless, so "officials" were attributing their statements to drug-induced hallucinations. She hoped Spike was all right - okay; deep down, she hoped Angel was too.

The report ended, and the achor announced the beginning of the entertainment segment, so Nina tuned it out. Her food had arrived, and her mouth watered at the delicious aroma wafting to her nose. Diving into her meal, she unconsciously relaxed her senses. The local woman sitting next to her kept prattling on about some upcoming art festival. Nina only half-listened to her, nodding in what she hoped were the appropriate places. She was famished apparently. Finishing off the shepherd's pie, she ordered dessert.

Suddenly, the hackles on the back of her neck began screaming at her. Her eyes widened as she looked into the mirror behind the bar and saw a man standing behind her. Did he just sniff me? Damn, what am I going to do? He appeared to be short, at least a few inches shorter than her; perhaps she could take him. But the intensity of his gaze had her questioning that snap assessment.

Then, to add to her bewilderment and fear, her inner wolf started tingling in a way it never had before. Her heart started racing, and she subconsciously raised her nose to sniff at the air. What the hell?

In the mirror, she saw the man's mouth quirk into a slight smile. Casually, he took a seat beside her, and Nina saw him nod at the bartender. A Guinness was immediately placed in front of the man. He'd said nothing to her and it was driving her inner wolf crazy. Her rational side told her to get the hell out of the pub, out of the town, out of the state - as far away from this guy as possible. But her wolf side… she couldn't figure out what it wanted to do, except she sensed it wanted to stay. It wasn't afraid. Going with that 'assurance', Nina kept still and sat.

Unexpectedly, the woman on the other side of her spoke. Nina had forgotten the woman was even there, so focused was she on the stranger.

"Evening, Dan. You doin' alright?"

"Hey, Clara. Yep. Can't complain," the man answered. "You?"

"Fair to middlin'. You need to come by my place and get some tomatoes and beans. The sweet corn will be coming soon, if the weather holds," 'Clara' responded. Apparently they knew each other. Was he a local, too?

That ghost of a smile reappeared again on his features, reaching his eyes. "Thanks, I'll do that."

At that moment, her dessert came. Nina looked at it as if it was from a science fiction movie. Her vision blurred. Then his voice filled her ears.

"Breathe."

The breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding released with a shudder. Much needed oxygen quickly refilled her lungs.

Then her heart stopped as the man quietly whispered, "So, you're Nina."

TBC

A/N: While the Six Pence Pub does exist, I've purposefully not described its interior, nor have I described exactly where it is located on Main Street. Julian Price Memorial Park does exist on the Blue Ridge Parkway, and as a child, I had the pleasure of many a Saturday afternoon frolicking in the creek and hiking its trails. The campground/cabin community is very loosely based on the actual Bear Den Creekside Cabins, located in Spruce Pine, NC (http://www.bear-den.com). For those interested in the view Nina saw out of Holley's Tavern in Chapter 2, check out http://www.canyonsbr.com



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