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The Werewolf Cheerleader
Book 5: Chapter 2

Book 5: Chapter 2

The yellow school bus rattled down Main Street, its suspension groaning with each pothole. Jessica pressed her forehead against the cool glass window, watching Moon Valley's quaint downtown blur past. Behind her, someone launched a wadded-up paper ball that sailed over her head.

"Ten points if you can hit Mr. Peterson's bald spot!" a voice called out, followed by barely suppressed snickers.

Jessica rolled her eyes, catching the reflection of Tyler Martinez and his crew in the window. Senior year and some of her classmates still acted like they were in middle school. She flexed her fingers against her thigh, feeling the phantom echo of claws beneath her skin. Since the bite one year ago, her temper had become harder to control, especially around full moons. At least she had the good fortune to snag a seat next to Kevin while he absorbed himself in what looked like an ancient Egyptian history book.

"You know we're literally going to the museum in five minutes, right?" Jessica nudged him with her elbow, grateful for his calming presence. "You don't have to cram beforehand."

Kevin adjusted his glasses, not looking up from the page. His dark curls fell across his forehead in that endearingly messy way that made her heart skip. "Did you know that some ancient Egyptians believed cats were vessels for divine spirits? And that killing one, even accidentally, was punishable by death?"

"Fascinating," Salina drawled from the seat across the aisle, her purple-streaked hair falling across one eye. Today she wore her signature all-black ensemble, complete with combat boots that probably violated at least three school dress code policies. "Almost as fascinating as watching paint dry."

"Says the girl who has three cats," Jessica teased, earning a mock glare from her friend.

"Those are my grandmother’s cats, and Mr. Whiskers, Salem, and Vader are actually interesting. Unlike..." Salina gestured vaguely at Kevin's book, "whatever dusty old pharaoh you're reading about."

The bus lurched to a stop in front of the Moon Valley History Museum, a squat brick building that looked old since the 1970s. A fresh banner hung across the entrance: "NEW EXHIBIT: SECRETS OF THE FORGOTTEN PHARAOHS." The contrast between the crisp new banner and the building's weather-worn facade was almost comical.

"Alright, people!" Mr. Peterson's voice cut through the chatter. His comb-over fluttered in the air conditioning, a sight that never failed to fascinate the students in the back rows. "Single file line, no pushing, and for the love of all things holy, please try to act like the almost-adults you technically are."

Jessica filed off the bus between Kevin and Salina, the crisp autumn air against her skin. Her enhanced senses picked up the sharp tang of decaying leaves, the distant aroma of coffee from the diner two blocks away, and something else—something old and musty that seemed to seep from the museum's very walls. The front steps cracked with weeds pushing through the concrete. Not exactly the Metropolitan Museum of Art, but it was the closest thing Moon Valley had to culture.

"I can't believe we're wasting a perfectly good Tuesday on this," Salina muttered, tugging at the sleeve of her black sweater. "I could be practicing my routine now so Tiffany wouldn’t yell at me again.”

"Says the girl who had plenty of time to practice at the cheerleader camp last month," Kevin replied, finally looking up from his book.

"That was different. I was just starting out until..." Salina gestured vaguely at the building, "until the incident…”

“Don’t worry,” Jessica replied. “Tiffany always gave us plenty of time to practice. No Debbie Downers in our squad.”

Salina smirked

They shuffled into the museum's lobby, where a perky tour guide with a name tag reading "HELLO, I'M TRACY!" waited with an impossibly wide smile. Her blue blazer looked starched within an inch of its life, and her blonde ponytail bounced with each enthusiastic gesture.

"Welcome, Moon High seniors!" Tracy's voice had the practiced enthusiasm of someone who gave this exact speech five times a day. "We're so excited to share our newest exhibit with you. The lost tomb of Queen Aziza was discovered just this summer, and Moon Valley Museum is honored to be its first stop on a nationwide tour!"

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Jessica felt a strange prickle at the base of her neck. Ever since the bite, her instincts had become sharper, more animal. Something about this place set them on edge. The wolf inside her, usually a distant presence during daylight hours, stirred uneasily.

They followed Tracy through dimly lit halls lined with dusty displays of local artifacts—arrowheads, pioneer tools, the usual small-town museum fare. Tyler and his friends made exaggerated yawning sounds until Mr. Peterson shot them a warning glare. But the new Egyptian wing was different. The lighting was dramatic, and the displays were sleek and modern. In the center of the room stood a massive sarcophagus, its gold and lapis lazuli surface catching the spotlights.

"Queen Aziza ruled a small kingdom during Egypt's Third Intermediate Period," Tracy explained, leading them to the sarcophagus. Her voice took on a more serious tone, as if she too felt the weight of history in the room. "Her reign was brief but fascinating. According to hieroglyphic records, she rose from humble origins to become one of the most powerful women of her time."

Kevin leaned forward, squinting at the inscriptions. Jessica watched his face, enjoying the way his eyes lit up when he encountered something new to learn. But then his expression changed, confusion flickering across his features.

"Did anyone else hear that?" he whispered.

"Hear what?" Jessica asked, but something made her step closer to him, protective instincts flaring. The wolf in her chest growled softly.

"I thought I heard..." Kevin shook his head. "Never mind. It was probably nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. As they circled the sarcophagus, Jessica's skin crawled. Her enhanced senses picked up something wrong, something that made her wolf side want to bare its teeth. The air around the ancient coffin felt thick, and oppressive, like the atmosphere before a storm. There was a scent she couldn't quite identify—not decay, not quite life, but something in between.

"The most intriguing part of Queen Aziza's story is how it ended," Tracy continued, oblivious to Jessica's discomfort. Her smile had taken on an almost knowing edge. "According to legend, her people discovered she was responsible for the mysterious death of their beloved king. They called her a monster in human form."

"What kind of monster?" Tyler called out from the back, for once sounding genuinely interested.

Tracy's smile widened. "That's the mystery! The hieroglyphs are unclear. But whatever she was, her subjects feared her so much that they didn't dare execute her normally. Instead, they mummified her alive and sealed her in a hidden tomb, believing that would contain her evil forever."

A collective "ooh" rippled through the class. Jessica didn't join in. Every instinct she possessed screamed that there was truth behind the legend, that something dark and ancient lurked behind the sarcophagus's painted eyes. She could feel it watching them, assessing them, like a predator sizing up potential prey.

"Kekara..."

The whisper was so faint Jessica almost missed it. But Kevin stiffened beside her, his face draining of color. The word seemed to hang in the air between them, ancient and powerful.

"You heard it that time, didn't you?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

Jessica nodded, fighting the urge to grab his arm and drag him away from the display. The voice had been female, seductive, with an accent she couldn't place. It had spoken directly to Kevin; she was sure of it.

"Okay, this is officially creeping me out," Salina muttered, pulling her black cardigan tighter around her shoulders. "And I'm the one who usually likes creepy stuff. Even Mr. Whiskers would hate this place."

Tracy moved the group along to a display of canopic jars, launching into an explanation of ancient Egyptian burial practices. Jessica hung back, her eyes fixed on the sarcophagus. For a moment—just a moment—she could have sworn she saw movement behind the painted eyes, a flash of gold in their depths. The wolf inside her wanted to run, to howl, to warn the others of danger.

"We should go," she said, tugging on Kevin's sleeve. "Catch up with the others."

But Kevin seemed transfixed, staring at the sarcophagus with an odd expression. His normally warm brown eyes had taken on a glazed, distant look. "Does she look... familiar to you?"

"Who? Tracy?"

"No, the queen. In the paintings." He gestured to the wall, where scenes depicted Aziza's life in vibrant colors. "I feel like I've seen her somewhere before."

Jessica studied the images. The ancient artists had painted Aziza as a striking woman with sharp, almost feline features and eyes that seemed to follow you around the room. Something about those eyes made Jessica's hackles rise. They held the same predatory intelligence she sometimes glimpsed in her reflection during full moons.

"Come on," she said more firmly, pulling Kevin away. "I think we've seen enough Egyptian history for one day."

They hurried to catch up with the group, but Jessica couldn't shake the feeling that something had awakened in that room. Something old, and hungry, and very much alive. As they left the Egyptian wing, she glanced back one last time at the sarcophagus.

The painted eyes stared back, and this time, she was sure they blinked. A low chuckle seemed to echo through the room, though none of the other students appeared to notice.

The rest of the field trip passed in a blur of Native American artifacts and local historical displays, but Jessica's thoughts kept drifting back to the Egyptian wing. To that voice, and those eyes, and the way Kevin had reacted to it all. He seemed distracted, occasionally muttering words under his breath that sounded like an ancient Egyptian. When they finally boarded the bus for the return trip to school, she felt like she could breathe properly for the first time in hours.

"So," Salina said as they claimed their usual seats, absently braiding a strand of her purple hair, "are we going to talk about the weird vibes in there, or just pretend everything's normal like usual?"

"I vote for normal," Kevin said quickly—too quickly. He was fidgeting with his book, his knuckles white against the cover. "We were probably just letting our imaginations run wild. You know how these old museums are, with the weird lighting and the creepy displays..."

"Right," Jessica agreed, but she couldn't quite meet his eyes. She could smell his anxiety and hear his elevated heartbeat. "Just our imaginations."

The bus pulled away from the curb, leaving the museum—and its ancient occupant—behind. But as they drove back toward Moon High, Jessica couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Something had stirred in that sarcophagus, something that had recognized Kevin. And whatever it was, she had a sinking feeling they'd be seeing it again.

Sooner rather than later.