Luna Queen Pariah

Chapter 8: Stacey the Alias (of Sariah)

Chapter 8: Stacey the Alias (of Sariah)

Sariah

By the time Wisteria had washed the bleach out of my hair, toned it, and demonstrated how I should apply my makeup from now on, I was too exhausted to even really look at myself properly in the mirror. I remembered mumbling a “thank you so much” before crawling into bed. When I woke up hours later and went to brush my teeth, I jumped, startled by my own unfamiliar reflection. I was blonde. Not as blonde as Stella thank goodness but definitely blonde.

“It’s a dark ash blonde, level seven,” said Wisteria, appearing in the mirror behind me and making me almost hit the ceiling for the second time this late morning.

I turned around and she put her palms up.

“Chill, it’s just me,” she said, laughing.

“Where’d you come from?” I asked breathlessly.

“I never left,” she said with a shrug.

“Where’d you sleep though?” I wondered, hoping she had not slept in the bathroom or some other uncomfortable place.

“In the other bed,” said Wisteria.

“So where did Rodney sleep?” I asked, distinctly recalling only one motionless lump under the covers of the neighbouring bed.

Wisteria sighed and looked away from me.

“Don’t freak out okay,” she said, prefacing some new development that would undoubtedly make me freak out.

“I won’t,” I lied.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “Rodney went to go see Stella.”

I would like to say that I was tougher than this but that news knocked the air right out of me.

“Stop panicking!” Said Wisteria sternly. “Part of the reason he went was to draw suspicion away from you and himself. Why would he be out around town with Stella if he was an accomplice helping you escape?”

I calmed down a little. Did that make sense? I quickly convinced myself that it made sense.

“What’s the other part?” I asked, taking deep breaths in between words. “The other part of the reason behind this?”

“He just wanted to see Stella,” admitted Wisteria with a shrug. “She’s probably his mate. What do you expect?”

I sighed. I leant my back against the wall and slid down onto the floor with my eyes closed. I needed a moment.

“You better get used to this. It’ll only get worse once it’s confirmed and the full mate-bond hits,” she said.

“I hope I’m gone by then,” I muttered without opening my eyes. “I have to be gone by then. I can’t wait around to be tried as an adult if they catch me,” I explained, opening my eyes to look at her.

She nodded.

“Did Rodney say what the rest of the plan is by chance?” I asked sheepishly, feeling out of the loop in my own getaway plan.

Wisteria chuckled.

“It’s Tuesday. You have until next week Monday to skedaddle, right?” Said Wisteria.

“Technically, yeah, but Monday starts at midnight so I have to be gone by Sunday night to be safe,” I said, realising that suddenly sounded so much sooner.

“Right so our options include simply driving across the border with you in plain sight with your new disguise or hiding you in the trunk but either way we need to make it past the pack guards who check all the cars and pedestrians crossing the border,” said Wisteria.

“Why do you sound like you’ve helped someone do this before?” I asked as I slowly got back on my feet.

Wisteria ignored my question.

“They’ll check the documentation of everyone present in the vehicle so we would have to get you a convincing fake ID if you’re gonna be sitting in the car like it’s nobody’s business,” reasoned Wisteria.

“I have a fake ID!” I squealed, running back into the bedroom, grabbing my backpack and rummaging through it.

I ended up frantically dumping everything out on the bed only to realise it was in my wallet on the nightstand. I sighed. I would re-pack my stuff later.

“Here,” I said, showing Wisteria the fake ID.

It said I was twenty-one, named Rococo Jones and the picture slightly resembled me.

“This is not a very good one,” said Wisteria, grimacing.

“Why not?” I asked, crestfallen.

“Rococo?” She said dryly.

“Like Coco Chanel…only with Ro at the beginning,” I said.

“That’s the most fake-sounding name I’ve ever heard,” said Wisteria.

“Are you saying the great Coco had a fake-sounding name too then?” I said pointedly, defending my unique fake name.

“Yes. Her real name was Gabrielle,” said Wisteria, folding her arms.

“I did not know that,” I admitted after a long pause.

“You learn something new everyday,” said Wisteria. “You need a better fake ID if you’re gonna pull this off. Where’s your real ID?”

I handed her my real ID. She elongated her nails into claws and shredded my legitimate ID into pieces.

“No!” I squeaked.

“You can’t have that on you! It’s incriminating!” Said Wisteria.

She was right but it was hard to let my old identity go.

“From now on, remember to not even look up when you hear the name ‘Sariah Prince’ in public,” advised Wisteria. “We’ll need to choose a new name for you. Keep it simple. Most people have pretty boring names like…Rodney, for example!” 

I nodded, laughing faintly. I knew she was trying to cheer me up but something was dawning on me. For the first time, the true finality of the situation hit me. I felt as though I was mourning a death, my death.

“Okay, time for breakfast,” said Wisteria lightheartedly.

She took out her cellphone and snapped a picture of my stunned expression.

“There,” she said, showing it to me. “That’s your new ID photo!”

“But it’s a photo of me?” I said, confused.

“Yeah,” said Wisteria slowly.

“Well, what if they recognise me in the ID photo at the border?” I said.

“You’re blonde now remember? And you’re still wearing the makeup I put on you last night! You should really wash your face before bed but that’s okay. For now, it’s a good thing. You had black hair and no makeup in that school photo they keep shopping around. If they recognise you in this new look photo, they would recognise you in real anyway,” surmised Wisteria.

I nodded, understanding her point. I was too terrified to go out somewhere for breakfast at first but Wisteria convinced me that we needed to give my new look a “test run” before the actual border crossing.

“We can’t let the dress rehearsal be the actual play,” said Wisteria as I got into the front passenger seat of her car.

“And what if I get caught during dress rehearsal?” I countered.

“The show must go on,” she replied. “We’ll run to the car and speed away with the knowledge that the disguise isn’t good enough.”

I sighed as she pulled out of the Snooze and Fuel’s parking lot. She drove for literally one minute before pulling into another parking lot. I stared at her in confusion.

“The diner is close by,” she said with a shrug.

I looked out the window and saw the diner she was talking about. 

“Huff and Puff,” I said, reading the sign.

“They’re a bakery too!” She said excitedly. “They promise to blow your tastebuds down or you get a free mini cream cheese bagel if your experience is dissatisfying! Wow! It smells amazing! Damn! It’s mouthwatering!”

She was going on and on about how good the bakery diner place smelled. I could smell the freshly baked bread and the grease and butter of a breakfast fry-up. It smelled good but not nearly as good as whatever Wisteria was describing. She was either smelling things I couldn’t because she had her wolf or she was hyping the place up to incentivise me.

I took a deep breath as I stole one last glance in the rearview mirror. I had taken a quick shower and Wisteria had styled my hair and did my makeup. I smiled. I looked kinda nice. Glamorous. I was wearing a simple black dress. I put on shades. I got out of the car on wobbly legs. My heart was beating erratically as I walked towards the diner’s front door. I could practically hear my blood pumping in my ears. 

“One step at a time,” whispered Wisteria under her breath. “Left. Right. Almost there.”

I neared the diner’s entrance. Left. Right. Almost there. Wisteria and I reached the door but someone blocked our way.

I almost fell over in shock. I gripped Wisteria’s arm, my hands shaking.

“Excuse us!” Said Wisteria loudly to the tall broad-shouldered man standing in front of the door.

My eyes started at his fancy shoes and slowly worked their way up his lean but muscled build. He was wearing a black blazer over comfortable-looking heather grey trousers and a plain white tee shirt. I noticed the bulging veins in his caramel-complected arms. I dared to look at his face. I knew this person. He was so familiar! I recognised him from somewhere! Where did I know him from? My mind transported me back to the bushes outside Rodney’s house. This man had glanced out the window of the sleek black car the Alpha King had supposedly been in while Stella visited Rodney. This was the man who resembled Stella’s goon, Ruby! This was Ruby’s brother! This was the Alpha King’s best friend, right-hand man and Beta! Raphael! Beta Raphael! 

“Sa-Stacey! Stacey! Come on girl, time for brunch! Stacey! STACEY!” Shrieked Wisteria as I, code name Stacey, keeled over in a dead faint for the second time in my whole life.