The lost lycan queen

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© 2024 Dakota Quinn. All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Martha Withers opened the file on her lap for the about the third time that day. The contents inside were pretty thin; thinner than usual. Just one page actually, and no photograph in sight either. Usually, she’d have at least ten pages of information and more than one photo to go on. Not this time.

“Belinda Rogers, born 12 June 2009, birthplace unknown,” she read on the thin sheet. “Parents deceased 28 May 2024 in a military training exercise.”

That was less than a month ago. Hence why Martha was sitting in her car waiting for the Greyhound bus to arrive to deliver her latest foster child, fifteen-year-old Belinda.

She looked down at the sheet in her lap again. There was nothing else in there. There was no record of the girl’s schooling history. Usually there will be something on that included in the file, so that Martha could organize for a records transfer to the new school. Either someone slipped up and didn’t add it to the file, or Belinda didn’t go to school. Maybe home-schooled? Nah, most likely the first scenario.

Martha didn’t particularly want to take on a teenage girl. Not now. Not after Lucy. She didn’t know if she was ready for it yet. But the fostering authorities were desperate, and Martha was the only one available with the capacity and experience to take on a girl like Belinda. Or at least that’s how they sold the gig to her. She sighed and closed the file.

When the anticipated Greyhound bus rolled to a stop, Martha remained seated. She’ll get out when she notices a lone teen.

She didn’t wait long. When the small crowd of weary travelers dispersed into different directions, one remained behind. Obviously, this was Belinda.

“Oh boy,” Martha silently mouthed to herself. “This is going to be interesting.”

She got out of the car and walked over to the girl with the black backpack slung over one shoulder. The closer she got, the more Martha stared. Belinda was quite possibly the most beautiful girl she had ever seen – and that includes movie stars on screen and supermodels in magazines.

Underneath those charcoal grey combat pants and black t-shirt, the girl had a killer body her clothes couldn’t hide. Her hair was silver-blonde, hanging in soft waves to just below her shoulders, but it was her delicate facial features that made one stare. High cheekbones, plump lips, straight nose, porcelain skin and big eyes surrounded by impossibly long lashes. And the color of those eyes – cobalt blue.

“You must be Belinda,” said Martha when she was close enough and regained her composure. “I’m Martha, your carer.”

There was warmth in her voice, because no matter how little she knew about this stunning creature, the girl was just a child who had lost her parents and everything she knew just a couple of weeks ago.

Belinda looked straight at her with those big blue eyes. She didn’t smile.

“Yes. Billy, please mam,” she replied. Her voice was soft and musical. It fitted her looks.

“Oh, please call me Martha. I’m parked over there. Let’s grab the rest of your luggage and we’ll get going to your new home.”

Belinda, or Billy as she clearly likes being called, started walking to where Martha pointed in the direction of the car park. Even the way she moved was beautiful, graceful.

“There’s no other luggage. Just this,” she said, pointing to her backpack.

Okaaay, Martha thought. It didn’t look like there was much in that small backpack. Did she not have any other clothes?

She nevertheless followed Billy and walked past her to the parked suburban. She opened the door for Billy on the passenger side and the girl slid in.

As Martha secured her safety belt, she realized that Billy hadn’t done the same.

“Buckle up,” she told her. Billy had a bit of a confused look at first, then she looked at what Martha was doing and followed her lead. Her movements were slightly unsure, like someone who has never fastened a seatbelt before. Martha filed that bit of information at the back of her mind.

It took just over 40 minutes to reach Martha’s house in suburban San Diego. Billy didn’t talk much on the way, despite Martha’s best attempts. The most she got out of the girl was ‘Yes’ or ‘No, mam’. Billy wasn’t being disrespectful or even shy, nor did Martha get any vibes of resentment from her either. It was more… disinterest maybe? Possibly even a bit of the militaristic style of ‘only speak when spoken to, only say what you need to.’

So Martha did most of the talking. She told her about her husband David and the other kids Billy will be sharing her life with in her new home. About Mike and Bob, the 12-year-old twins who joined her care when they were five, nine-year-old Shirley, the shy one, who has been with Martha for just over two years, and little six-year-old Carrie who Martha took in less than a year ago.

Then there was Jude, a hormonal 16-year-old boy, and the one Martha was most worried about right now with a gorgeous new girl being added to the mix. That bit she didn’t share with Billy though.