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booksabaking) wrote2021-04-09 11:07 pm
A WEREWOLF IN OCTOBER - CHAPTER 5 (Line Editing left)
"She's back!"
Arturo took off his headphones and rested them around his neck. His hearing might not be as keen as a werewolf's, but he'd gotten pretty good as zeroing in on interesting conversations. Public ones only, of course. Unless there was an emergency.
He brushed aside the week-old guilt summoned by that thought and concentrated.
"I'll make sure to cook for an extra mouth," Dorothy said from the kitchen, positively bubbly. Arturo smiled despite himself.
"She's holding a cat carrier and she's got that shapeshifter guy with her," Vivian said. Her voice was coming from her room, likely having taken up position by a window. "Do we have any cat food left?"
"I'll go get some if we don't!" Melissa shouted from the living room, forming the third corner of the gossip triangle.
Arturo stared at his computer screen, torn. The pack had been on edge all week, in their own ways. Since Jayla had run off, Lisa had drowned herself in research; Dorothy had cleaned until the bathtubs shone and you could see your reflection in the hallway floor; Melissa had read all course literature for her current term; Vivian had gone out drinking with her coworkers and ended up in three bar brawls. Their excitement now caught Arturo between relief and mounting dread.
Jayla must have come back for a reason. Her bringing the shapeshifter proved that.
Arturo shut down his current project and powered down the computer, heart in his throat. He didn't believe the bullshit about wolf instincts taking over werewolves. If he ever had, Lisa had ranted that misconception right out of his head long ago. But he knew his friends and he knew how good they were at being concerned. This business with the new girl had done a number on them and he had no idea where it put them, mentally.
It's not like they'd planned for a new pack member, but that in itself wasn't the root of the problem. The true shock had been to realize that someone could get bitten by one of them and still choose to go off on their own.
Arturo couldn't speak for the others, but to him it felt like a betrayal. Not that Jayla was the traitor. No, they were, messing up her life without helping her deal with it. Making her immortal and then allowing her to leave with little to no knowledge of the dangers preternatural life entailed. She could run into vampires, a lone wolf come to claim territory, a pissed off witch!
That might be what had brought her running back. Alternatively, the shapeshifter had gotten her entangled in something.
He couldn't hide in the basement this time.
Vivian had ushered their two (three) guests inside when Arturo made it up the stairs. Jayla had placed the cat carrier on the floor and opened it, letting a yawning Ginger saunter out. The cat meowed happily up at Vivian, then caught sight of Arturo and made a beeline for him, eyes narrowed in a kitty smile.
"I love your hair! When did you get that done?"
Jayla's neat, numerous thin black braids had disappeared and been replaced by an undercut topped with a cloud of blue.
Jayla laughed, at Vivian's comment or possibly at herself. She rubbed the back of her neck and avoided eye contact for a second. The tension in the air wouldn't have needed a knife to be cut, but it definitely made its presence known.
"I've always thought about getting a fun haircut, but never worked myself up to it. Finally took the leap the other day. Guess being turned into a werewolf puts perspective on things. When you literally can grow fur and fangs, cutting off some hair doesn't feel as such a big deal any more."
"Finding the right hairdresser is key too." The shapeshifter had moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Jayla, smiling up at her in a far too familiar manner. Not the body language of a person who'd only known you for a week.
"Can't you change your hair into whatever you like it to be?"
A very good question, which Arturo was thankful he wouldn't have to break his silence to ask.
The shapeshifter shrugged. "I could, but then I'd have nothing to say when I got asked who does my hair. If I said I did it myself, people would want me to color their hair. Same goes for make-up. This is all blood, sweat and tears, love." He gestured at himself in a 'ta-dah' motion and Arturo resisted rolling his eyes. He couldn't fault the shapeshifter's reasoning.
"I hope it's okay that I brought Ginger along. It felt mean to leave him in the apartment," Jayla said as Arturo, more or less on instinct, bent down to scoop up the cat in question. Ginger rewarded this by headbutting Arturo's chin, purring like a tiny engine. Arturo steadfastly ignored the look of amusement Vivian sent his way.
"I think we're good," she said, turning back to their two human-shaped guests. "We were just about to eat lunch. Would you like to join us?"
"We would love to!" the shapeshifter said before Jayla could open her mouth. "Jayla told me one of your pack is a researcher of the preternatural. Will she be joining us for lunch?"
Vivian beamed. "Absolutely! She'll love meeting you. Let me know if she gets too much with her questions and I'll punch her for you."
Arturo buried his face in Ginger's fur. He didn't want to bet the pack's safety on his poker face, no matter how supposedly good it was. Strangers had taken interest in Lisa's research before, as fellow scientists or as thieves. This guy didn't look like a researcher. Then again, appearances could be deceiving. Better to wait and see.
Lunch began as a quiet affair. Arturo poked at the food, focused on taking in his table company. Jayla laughed often and loudly at small talk and enthusiastically shared the fact that she'd managed to land a job at Mrs Roger's café thanks to the shapeshifter; the shapeshifter simply nodded along with her and supplied short comments to what she said; Melissa looked torn between asking questions and staying silent; Vivian did her best to keep the small talk going; Dorothy busied herself running back and forth from the kitchen; Lisa had a calculating look about her that meant she planned to ask personal questions soon and was trying to find a way to get to them as smoothly as possible. So far so good.
"You mentioned you have a D&D campaign going," Jayla said halfway through the meal, earning plenty of curious looks.
"We do." Lisa's attention shifted from their other guest and focused in on Jayla, a laser beam of observation. Arturo had to tip his hat at how unfazed Jayla remained under such scrutiny. "Do you have an interest in roleplaying?"
"An interest!" Jayla laughed too loudly again and threw an arm around the shapeshifter, who didn't seem to mind. "You are looking at two avid players sadly lacking a group. Well, in my case, hoping to be an avid player once I get the chance to try. If you're open to new members we'd love to jump in, at least for a little bit."
Of all the things Arturo had imagined these two could be plotting, invading their biweekly D&D game had not been on the list.
"That is so great!" Vivian all but overturned her chair in excitement. "I still vote for new players! Who's with me?"
Dorothy and Melissa quickly put their hands up, Dorothy smiling indulgently while Melissa's smile got stuck between shy and delighted. Lisa followed along a few seconds later, clearly taken aback by the sudden introduction of this topic. All eyes then turned to Arturo.
He hesitated.
"It's fine with me." He made sure not to look at anyone when he spoke.
He turned to pet Ginger, who'd taken up residence on the chair next to his. He of course didn't care if the new girl and the shapeshifter joined the game. It wasn't like it was a private, intimate thing, nerding out together as a group. Sure, fine, invite strangers.
Ginger merr-chirped in protest as Arturo scratched too harshly under the cat's chin. He immediately changed to softer petting, regret stabbing at him. He was going to have to get Jayla alone before she left and talk about what he'd done to her. That conversation wouldn't be improved by him mistreating her cat right before it. Not that it could be improved. He could at least not make it worse.
Dread settled, cold and clammy, at the pit of his stomach. He didn't pay it much mind. It was a familiar sensation.
"I would love to ask the both of you a couple of serious questions later," Lisa said, nodding at both Jayla and the shapeshifter, "but I must admit this has been a rough few weeks and I'd much rather discuss D&D for a while. Why don't we make you two some characters?"
Arturo kept his eyes on Ginger, taking care to follow the cat's signals on where he wished to be petted. He prayed his face had stayed static through this because his emotions sure as hell hadn't. Lisa turning down a research opportunity could mean many things, but never anything good. She might have gotten stuck on what that 'wand' could do or it might have turned out to be too dangerous to work with. Other viable explanations for her behavior were the equally worrying possible loss of a colleague or a worse fight with Sledge.
"What would you want to play?"
"Someone who can kick ass and take names!" Jayla answered, no hesitation.
Lisa's expression cracked from cool professional to pure mirth. "I'd say fighter or monk would do the trick for that. We can move to my office and discuss this further, if you wish."
Melissa perked up. Trust tabletop gaming to trump sorry-I-turned-you-into-a-werewolf anxiety. "Oooh, I have a warrior monk friend in my backstory! Do you want to coordinate?"
"Do I!" Jayla was halfway out of her chair, radiating excitement. She glanced down at their other guest, who'd remained seated. "You coming, Jesse?"
"We'll take turns, I think," the shapeshifter said. He still had food on his plate. "Usually easier one-on-one. Plus this way you won't get spoilers about my character's deep dark secrets."
"Planning to have many of those?"
The shapeshifter's smirk morphed into a wicked grin. "A healthy number."
Dorothy clapped her hands twice, rivaling Jayla with her own air of joy. "Leave the dishes to me. I'll go prepare things to our furry little guest's liking while you lot sort out the game."
"You really don't have to-"
Dorothy cut Jayla off with a wave of her hand. "Nonsense! You're all guests here and I intend to make you feel welcome, four legs or two. Jesse, please enjoy the rest of your meal in peace. No need to rush."
The shapeshifter gave Dorothy a nod and helped himself to more salad. "Much obliged. I hope you don't mind me leeching off your vegetarian food."
Arturo started at being addressed directly, but met the shapeshifter's eyes as steadily as he could.
"Not at all." Dorothy always made too much. He could begrudge the stranger a number of things, but food wasn't one of them.
Lisa and Melissa swept Jayla off to plot characters, and Vivian took it upon herself to help Dorothy with the litter box and cat toys Jayla had brought along. This left Arturo and the shapeshifter in the dining room, alone except for the cat.
Arturo stubbornly continued to pay visible attention to the cat and nothing else, waiting for the shapeshifter to crack first. Not looking at him helped in other ways as well. The man wore far too much eyeliner for his own good. Not to mention kept his leather jacket on indoors. That neckline! It showed off the shapeshifter's throat in a very inadvisable way, not recommended when spending time around vampires.
Minutes passed.
Arturo bit the inside of his cheek when he heard the scarping of chair legs against the floor. He let Ginger's purring wash over him, kept his breathing even as steps approached him. Confrontation time.
He gave Ginger a gentle caress along one cheek then stood, turning to face the smug-looking shapeshifter.
"Not hungry?"
At least he was shorter than Arturo. Not that lack of height made him less attractive, unfortunately, but he couldn't loom as efficiently when Arturo got out of his chair. The man seemed like a loomer, short stature or no.
"Not at the moment."
The shapeshifter leaned on the table, smoothly sliding into Arturo's personal space. Arturo held his ground.
"I can sympathize. All my compliments to the chef, but this isn't really what you need, is it?"
Arturo's brain flat-lined. He stared down at the lovely face smirking up at him, met eyes filled with challenge. The shapeshifter placed both hands on the table, leaned back a fraction and angled his head just so, baring his neck without being too obvious about it. Or maybe hunger had finally done its dirty deed and started causing tempting hallucinations.
"Must be harsh, finding a steady source of food in a town like this," Jesse said, kick-starting Arturo's train of thoughts right back on its track of panic. "I'm sure these gals are great friends to have, but werewolf blood is all empty calories."
Arturo took a controlled step back. He curled his hands into fists, forced them to remain at his sides. It had been a long time since bloodlust had hit him this hard.
As if it's only bloodlust.
Shame spun out of the dread and anxiety already pooled inside of him, flushing its iciness fire-red. Cold sweat broke out in a wave across his body, leaving him shuddering in the balmy room.
The shapeshifter looked unperturbed by Arturo's retreat. "Didn't mean to be rude, sorry. I just know the look."
Arturo managed to unclench his jaw long enough to ask, "What look?"
The shapeshifter tilted his head further, giving Arturo a smile that said he wasn't fooling anyone.
"Bags under the eyes, feverish flush, general paleness. You've either managed to get a magical flue that actually affects vampires or you haven't had fresh blood in months."
Try ever, Arturo very much didn't say because that was not a discussion he planned to have with a stranger.
"I could help you out." The shapeshifter's right hand remained on the table behind him, but he brought the left up to tug at his collar. Arturo's gaze fixated on the movement. "My kind are far sturdier than you'd think. Bet I could give your werewolf friends a run for their money in the healing department."
The lovely lunch Dorothy had cooked them began to crawl its way up Arturo's throat. That madman couldn't be suggesting what that had sounded like!
The shapeshifter traced one finger along his neck, calling attention to the faint blue of veins under the skin. "To be blunt, I'm a willing blood donor. Friends only, of course, but you lot seem friendly."
A loud ringing noise started up in Arturo's ears. The shapeshifter really had said that. Those words had come right out of his mouth and smacked into Arturo's solar plexus, and that vicious idiot stood there looking like a movie villain who'd finished explaining their clever plan to a tied-up spy.
Arturo managed to stifle a gasp of relief as Vivian came rushing into the room, wild-eyed.
"What is it?" he said, hoping his voice sounded rough from disuse and not outright strangled.
The shapeshifter had both hands on the table again, eyeing Vivian warily.
"Ava called." Vivian shifted her weight from foot to foot at a speed that said 'urgency' rather than 'nerves'. "Hunters. There are hunters in town! We're going out scouting right now and we'll need you on surveillance. A-sap!"
She left as quickly as she'd entered. Arturo had enough presence of mind to note that the shapeshifter looked more thoughtful than surprised at these news. Good to remember for later.
Making sure not to look back at the shapeshifter, Arturo hurried to his room. He might be useless at in-person tracking during daytime, but there were numerous ways to find people. He'd had a year to set up his own surveillance network in Merrihollow and getting to use it for its intended purpose was a doubtful upside to the current chaos.
He booted up his computer, preparing to put everything but this out of his mind. Wherever the hunters were, they were in for a fight.
Jayla stood at the living room windows, staring in pure amazement at the four wolves darting off across the backyard and into the forest. On her shoulder, Ginger had stopped purring, his eyes fixed on the wolves vanishing among the trees.
"I can't wait to learn that."
"Understandable. It'd be terrible if you only got to be a wolf according to the moon's schedule," Jesse said from the couch. He'd sprawled there since the pack disappeared to organize their scouting party, clearly not surprised that they could change their form whenever they pleased. For a second, Jayla wondered how many supernatural people Jesse actually knew. How old was he? Were shapeshifters immortal too?
"What do you wanna do now?"
Jayla kept Ginger steady on her shoulder with one hand and turned to face Jesse. "Not sure. They didn't tell us to leave, but it'd be weird to start watching TV while they're all busy with counter-hunter activity."
"Should we have a bit of a wolf-shifting class, then?"
The distant, nebulous threat of hunters gnawing at Jayla got blown away by memories from her first transformation. "You could teach me that?"
"Sure!" Jesse held up his hands until they were parallel, then alternated between lowering one and raising the other, like they were riding an invisible seesaw. "Shapeshifting is shapeshifting, different flavors of the same thing. The magic doesn't work the exact same way, but the basics are similar enough that we should be able to trade pointers."
"Sweet!" Jayla gently placed Ginger on the floor, too eager for distraction to let his disappointed mew stop her. "Should I go get the leftovers from lunch?"
The thought made her a little queasy but she wasn't about to take risks. Lessons would be a great distraction from the fact that a group of serial killers might be in town, but not if she accidentally joined in on the serial killing.
A head-shake from Jesse stopped her before she could leave the room.
"No, unforced transformations take less energy. Otherwise I suppose I'd need to eat a ton of food all the time too. You'll likely be a bit hungry afterward, but not 'biting people's face off'-hungry."
"Now that you mention it, the pack did say something like that." Why would there be a difference between full moon transformations and other transformations? Didn't the body go through the same extreme changes in both cases? "That's weird."
Jesse drew a hand through his hair and got up from the cozy green couch. "Don't ask me why it works like that because I haven't got a clue. It just does. Magic doesn't like to follow logic."
"I think Lisa is looking into it." She'd try to remember to ask for more details about that later. "When do we start the lesson?"
"Right away, if you want. I promise to keep my eyes closed until you're a wolf."
"Why?"
Jesse covered his eyes with his hands, then peeked over the edges of his fingers, an amused glint in his eyes. "Because I can shift with clothes on and you can't. Unless you really hate that t-shirt."
Ah. That. "Point taken." Unbidden, a question followed, "Can you turn into anything?"
An expression Jayla had no name for skittered across Jesse's face. It vanished before she could try to place it, leaving his regular calm confidence in its wake.
"Yes and no."
"Okay." Don't be so damn pushy! He'd pretty much said he liked her for not demanding explanations on how shapeshifters worked. Way to put my foot square in my mouth.
Her face must have given her away, as usual, because Jesse continued with, "Don't worry, it's not a sore subject. I'll try to explain what I know. But be warned, I've learned through trial and error. I've got no clear 'whys', only 'hows'."
"Share your wisdom, oh sage!" Jayla knew she was laying it on thick, but she couldn't make herself care. Almost trampling a friend's boundaries was the worst feeling and she wanted to put distance between it and herself as swiftly as possible.
Jesse chuckled. "I'll give you the quick version, so we can get on to shifting before we grow roots here." He steadied himself against the couch. "Us shapeshifter, we can change into a copy of, or our own version of, anything we've touched." He preened as her jaw dropped. "For example, I've touched more than one werewolf in my life. Thus, I can take on the form of one. By that I mean both human-looking, wolf-looking, and all the stages in-between. It's pretty neat."
"That's underselling it." Anything he'd touched, huh? "What about creatures you've only seen? Or made-up stuff, like unicorns?" She paused, thought that last bit over. "Assuming unicorns aren't real. Are they real?"
"Far as I know, no, no unicorns." His voice mirrored her disappointment. "Don't quote me on that, though. There's more magic in the world than I've seen. To answer your first question, I can kinda take on the shape of things I've seen. The success rate is lower, though, and the results can be wonky. Plus, there's the whole brain situation to consider."
That sure sounded ominous. "Brain situation?"
Jesse shrugged. For a second, she thought that would be his full answer, but he continued after an awkward pause:
"The perk of being a werewolf is you only need to eat a big meal to keep your own mind when you go wolf. We shapeshifters take on the brain structure of the body we shift into."
"Which for us not-shapershifters means...?" She had a sneaking, creepy suspicion, but better to ask for facts than guess.
Jesse drew away from the couch, squared his shoulders and stuck his hands deep in his jacket pockets. "Say I change into a dog. The longer I stay a dog, the more I become a dog. I once got stuck as a golden retriever for two weeks." His smile turned self-deprecating. "Luckily it turns out my kind change back to our default form when we take life-threatening damage. Woke up to my body hating me after the local shelter tried to euthanize me. Had to spend an expensive talisman on tricking the vet's memory. I convinced her I'd gotten lost looking for the adoption room. Pretty awkward."
Awkward was not the word Jayla would have picked. "That must have sucked." Then again, it seemed her brain had no better words prepared either.
"Would you believe me if I told you there are worse things to get stuck as?"
Jayla tried to picture it and her traitor brain supplied her with a number of equally horrific suggestions. A snail? A fly? An exotic animal that couldn't find food here? Would starving to death trigger a shift back or would you die?
A light touch at her elbow halted her unsettling thought-spiral.
"I'm being morbid. Sorry, habit." Jesse winked at her. "You don't get to be the goth kid in high school unless you say at least five disturbing things per day. It's a habit that's hard to shake. Now, shall we give this a try?"
"Uhm, okay. If you're still-?"
Jesse waved her off. "We'll be changing into werewolves. Contrary to popular belief, whatever brains your wolf forms have they stay human enough for thoughts to work as they should. We're both going to enjoy this, I promise."
"That's what she said." Jayla clamped her hand over her mouth too late. Thankfully, she got a cackle of laughter in response.
They set up inside the spacious bathroom connected to the living room. Jayla didn't really care if someone accidentally saw her naked. She had, however, gotten the impression that Arturo would mind if he caught a person he barely knew naked in his living room.
They locked the bathroom door, in case the resident vampire came wandering upstairs before they were done.
In other locking news, they'd herded Ginger to the guest room Jayla had previously occupied, to be on the safe side. He had food, his litter box and a bunch of toys, so he'd be okay for an hour or two. She'd apologize to him with a long combing session.
They sat down on the bathroom mat, tailor style, facing each other. Feels like we're getting ready for some serious meditation. Jayla had to stifle a giggle. Jesse didn't strike her as a person who enjoyed 'being in the moment'; he gave the impression of a person who had a million thoughts going at once. Kinda like her. Could be why he gave off such strong 'make friends with this guy'-signals.
"What do you remember from your first transformation?" Jesse asked, eyes dutifully closed.
Jayla frowned, straining her memory. "Besides being nervous as all hell? Heat. A bit of pain. Itching. That sensation you get when one of your legs falls asleep, but all over my body."
Jesse nodded along with her description, looking as serious as Jayla had seen him be up to that point. Not that she'd known him long, but this still stood out.
"Excellent. Focus on that feeling of heat. Picture it located at the level of your bellybutton, right behind it. Do you feel it?"
Guided meditation had never worked for Jayla. All the 'picture your dream room', 'hear the waves lapping at the shore', and 'smell the scent of flowers' took too much effort to be relaxing. She prepared for a long, challenging lesson attempt, followed by disappointment.
The hot ball of something that popped up in her gut area made her jump out of her skin. Metaphorically.
She gaped at Jesse, then managed a, "Y-yes. Holy fuck, I didn't expect it to work that fast."
It didn't hurt, but it had a distinctness to it, different from any pleasant or painful sensation she'd ever felt.
"You're a werewolf," Jesse said as if that was all the explanation needed. "Focus on that heat. Let it spread, slowly, through the rest of your limbs. Slow and steady wins the race, don't rush."
Jayla closed her eyes. The heat followed her directions, flowing out from her stomach, straight into her legs, arms and neck with ease. Like getting into a warm bath, in reverse. The ants-under-her-skin feeling went by quicker this time around. Before she knew it, she stood on the bathroom mat on all fours. There had barely been any pain at all.
She let an excited bark slip. Jesse opened his eyes as if this had been an agreed upon signal and got to his feet.
"Good job!" It was odd seeing him from this angle. "That deserves a run around the garden, I think. Let me get the door."
Jayla padded after him out of the bathroom and all the way to the door behind the staircase in the entry hall. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth in a stupid grin and she couldn't have cared less.
"I'll race you to the tree line and back. That should keep us inside their wards," Jesse said as he shut the door behind them. "I promise you'll be able to jump the fence without trouble."
Jayla snorted and shook herself as if shaking water out of her fur, demonstrating that she already knew that. This almost made her miss Jesse's transformation.
Her eyes stung a bit from watching him. The light around him bent, forming a fun house mirror that distorted the outline of his body. A faint blue glow wrapped itself around the distortion and changed its shape. Jayla blinked rapidly, her eyes stinging.
When the world around her refocused, she wasn't the only four-legged creature in the garden.
The sleek gray wolf next to her wagged its tail. Its eyes were golden but shone bright blue for a second and Jayla could feel her own eyes answer. Laughing in the way of wolves, they both took off for the fence at break-neck speed.
A clearing opened up with a good view of her target; a mansion, roosting like a hen behind the safety of walls and security cameras. Isha kept well out of range from the cameras and noted the signs with 'private property' written in black on red. Her fox bounced off toward the building and disappeared in a silent puff of smoke. It left a sting in her cooling shoulder, digging into her like a barb. Wards. Not solely werewolves then.
Sweat soaked the palms of her hands, her lungs burned and the tension in her muscles made her feel like a poorly tuned piano. She had no backup, no one within reach who would rush in and intervene if things went wrong.
This is it. Time to show I'm actual bite and not all bark.
Securing a place high up in a tree took three shaky attempts, but she managed to anchor herself to a large enough branch with a good view, on the edge of the wards her searchlight had revealed. This high up the mansion looked both more ordinary and more threatening, an out of place lake of calm in a churning sea.
Uncanny. How could such monstrous creatures hide in plain sight? Werewolves and vampires dwelt in abandoned warehouses, condemned apartment buildings and remote cabins. This pack must have killed the mansion's original owners recently. That, or the magical presence enveloping the place belonged to a corrupt witch.
She couldn't decide which option was worse.
The second tattoo burned as much as the first when she activated it. A translucent snake flowed out of her shoulder, wrapping itself around her with the sensation of a faint, cold gust of wind. Just in time. Four blurry shapes darted away from the mansion, straight into the forest. Isha held her breath as they rushed past under her and split off in three directions. Don'tseemedon'tsmellmedont'seeme.
She kept still for a good five minutes before she dared text. Her hand shook as she typed [Four rabid dogs, heading out.] and sent it to Woxell. Another ten passed before she added [Found gingerbread house. Unsure if currently occupied.]
That done she set about working up the courage to head back to camp. It'd be foolish to stick around the mansion on her own, now that she had proof it was a den. She had no long range weapons and nothing to draw capture circles with other than her own blood, a beyond foolish material to use. Leaving to get backup was the wise choice.
A choice easier in theory than practice when you knew four werewolves might come rushing back any second.
Climbing down proved trickier than getting up. The protection spell broke down as soon as she moved, flickering back into her shoulder with an electric sting, sputtering at half-power. She came close to falling five times before her feet touched the ground.
She'd just caught her breath when a fifth werewolf burst through the trees and skidded to a stop in front of her.
Fuck! She should have been able to avoid this, if she'd been paying attention. Fuuuuuck!
Luckily, the werewolf seemed as taken aback as she was.
Adrenaline and desperation pounded in Isha's veins. She grabbed her left thigh, bore her weight down on it, and prayed.
The third tattoo failed. Dead leaves burst up through the snow around the wolf, but that was all. They floated back down in a lazy pattern while Isha's thigh burned like a brand.
The werewolf jumped and let out a dog-like whimper that had Isha gasping in both surprise and terror. One second a large red wolf stood staring up at the fluttering leaves, the next a woman in her early twenties huddled in the snow, dark brown skin and blue hair a stark contrast to the frozen landscape around her.
Oh no she's hot.
What kind of final thought was that?
"Wow," the woman - the werewolf - said, straightening up from her crouch with a sheepish smile, "how did you do that thing with the leaves? Are you a witch?" She rubbed at the back of her head with one hand, looking more uneasy about what she'd said than the fact that she was naked outside in the snow. "Eh, sorry if I'm asking stupid questions. I'm kinda new around here, and to the whole werewolf thing. I'm Jayla, by the way. What's your name? Are you a friend of, eh, the pack? Should I be calling them 'the pack'? Or, like, 'the local pack'?" She let out a shaky laugh. "Sorry, I'm rambling."
The world felt like it was made out of treacle. Isha heard the woman speak, knew what she said, but time had slowed down too much for a reply to be possible.
Isha gaped up at the werewolf, too stunned to react, when a second wolf appeared at its side, slinking out from between the trees.
The second wolf stopped behind the now-woman, keeping in her shadow, its posture hunched and meek. Its gray fur blended well with the afternoon shadows.
"Hah, knew I could beat you out here!" the woman said to the gray wolf. Isha had to remind herself that she was looking at a werewolf, an immortal predator. What did it matter if she'd pictured her first encounter with a werewolf to be more brutal? This had to be a trap.
The gray wolf whined and grabbed at one of the woman's hands with its jaws, tugging at her with strange gentleness. The woman only stared at the other werewolf in confusion.
That was the moment Isha seized. She bolted to her feet and ran, and ran, and ran. She ran until the mansion, and the woman, and the gray wolf were far out of sight.
The unpleasant confusion and terror they caused remained.
As much as he tried to force himself to, Arturo hadn't been able to concentrate on tracking the hunters. Memories kept bashing against his focus, demanding his horrified attention.
He should have been prepared. The shapeshifter being so careless and casual about an offer of blood had hit him hard. The idiot couldn't have known what he'd be in for if Arturo took him up on it or he'd never have stood that close, been that forward.
The first memory ambushed him when the worst of the hunter-related panic had passed. By then he'd at least launched the first of his digital defenses and searches. He'd recalled her face. Her first words to him.
("All alone at a club, child? I'm sorry but you look terribly lonely."
"Your grandmother? Poor dear, you are all alone now."
"Come here.")
The worst part was that it had felt good. He had no recollection of the death he must have suffered; if it had happened in that club, how long it had taken, what exactly she'd done to him. She'd embraced him, bit him. The rest was a blur of pleasure and disorientation.
Until the smell of blood. Lisa had been there, not that he'd know her then, trapping him against a wall until his Blood Mark escaped the premises.
He'd bitten clean through his lip before the computer screen came back into focus. He thus missed the drama happening outside until it was too late to intervene.
The cameras caught the whole debacle. Arturo cursed a long and colorful litany as he saw the playback of Jayla and what had to be the shapeshifter rushing off into the woods. He was still at his computer when the two came back into view, caught up in double-checking that all his most important programs wouldn't stop at vital points when he left to go after them. The shapeshifter had kept his wolf-form, but Jayla was human again, running buck-naked through the yard. Arturo tried to zoom in on her face, read her expression, but she moved out of frame before he could.
Upstairs he heard the back door slam open. Out of habit he grabbed a bathrobe from Lisa's room before he headed up. He threw this at Jayla the second he saw her. She put it on reflexively, her movements slack and stunned.
"What did you do?" Arturo knew he sounded like he'd run a mile at top speed and probably looked it too, but anger kept him from caring. "What happened?"
"There was a girl - a woman in the forest," Jayla said, puzzled. "Jesse was giving me a shifting lesson. We were going to race to the trees and back, keeping within your ward things. Then a woman climbed down from a tree and threw leaves at me. It was pretty weird."
Arturo's generally sluggish and muted pulse picked up pace again, rushing adrenaline though his system. He bolted to tap out the combination for the perimeter traps on the painting next to the porch door. When he got the confirmation beep from it, he turned back to Jayla.
"Are you hurt?"
"Hurt?" Jayla still had a stunned look about her, eyes a little too wide, mouth slightly open as if on the verge of asking a question she kept changing. "Why would I be hurt?"
A blue shimmer heralded the shapeshifter's change back to human form.
"Because that was a hunter," he said, a slight tremor to his words. He didn't have the full-on panicked look expected of a person who'd come face to face with a hunter, but there would be time to analyze that later. "Who else do you think hangs out in trees, spying on people's houses?"
"How should I know?" Jayla whirled on the shapeshifter, hands on her hips. "Sorry for not immediately assuming people I run into are out to murder me! She did party-trick magic! A few leaves fluttering about. It wasn't like she hurt me."
Adrenaline shifted to ice water. "You mean she didn't mange to hurt you. That doesn't mean she didn't try."
The house felt at once too large and too small, everything in it slightly too far away or too close. Arturo leaned against the wall by the back door, knees shaking. He couldn't afford another panic attack. Not now.
"Hunters see witches as more human, since they age," the shapeshifter said. He'd taken one of Jayla's hands in his, the one he'd been leading her by in wolf form. No teeth marks remained on it, but he still traced two fingers over her palm as if to sooth an ache. "That said, most of their lot prefer to take away a witch's powers instead of trusting her with them. That woman out there wasn't a witch and she wasn't out to make friends with party tricks. She wanted you dead."
The artifact in Lisa's lab popped into Arturo's head like an alarm.
"What kind of magic did she have?" He needed to secure their defenses. He needed to call Lisa. He needed to throw up.
"Skin bound, from what I could garner," the shapeshifter said, letting go of Jayla's hand. "Shoddy craftsmanship. She had traces of a sickly protection spell about her and her attack failed spectacularly thanks to your wards."
"Attack?" Jayla turned to look out the tinted windows, eyes focused on the trees in the distance. Arturo fought the urge to pull her away from the glass.
"The leaves," the shapeshifter said. "If I read that spell right, which I tend to be good at, she meant for them to turn into silver spears."
"Silver spears?"
Arturo tried not to picture it, to not imagine Jayla shredded to pieces, nailed to the ground by burning silver. She sounded far too calm. Either she, he, or both of them were in shock.
The shapeshifter shrugged. "Hunters tend to be old-fashioned, like most crazy conservatives. It was either spears or shrapnel. Silver would be involved either way. I could smell it." He made a face that froze between disgust and anger before returning to careful neutral.
Jayla's eyebrows shot up toward her blue hair. "That's a bit much. I must have scared the holy hell out of her."
Arturo thought he should have a comment to make on that, but his mind kept spinning from one catastrophic scenario to the next so it would have to wait. He fumbled through his pockets for his phone and tried to remain inside himself. Disassociating would not help.
"Speaking of which," Jayla said, peering closer at the shapeshifter. "Dude, where did your tattoos go?"
That, of all things, actually visibly startled the shapeshifter. He touched a hand to his neck in a much less provocative way than earlier in the dining room.
"Shit, I forgot them?" As he spoke, Arturo watched a fiery pattern bloom on the shapeshifter's neck, rushing downward to form the decoration he'd worn before. "Need to keep them fresh for work," he said, brow furrowed in concentration. "Keeping real ones is close to impossible, me being me."
Arturo only listened with half an ear as Jayla replied to that, too focused on his phone. No messages, no missed calls.
"How does the hair color stay if tattoos don't? And why didn't you glow blue when you shifted back in the club or now, but went all wonky when you changed into a wolf?"
"Would be rather obvious if I did each time I changed. The glow thing only happens with rapid full-body change. Gradual adjustments like height is easier to keep subtle. Again, I don't know why, ask your science werewolf. Don't know why my hair stays dyed either. Have to refresh that too, of course, but no more often than you'll need to."
Arturo left them to their twenty questions. It was a mystery how they could stand around making small talk at a time like this, especially the shapeshifter. He had to know how deep in shit they were.
Arturo took a deep breath. He called Sledge.
"Arturo, what's going on?" she greeted him, then quickly rattled off the usually agreed upon check-in. "I've got the whole pack here. No one is missing, no one is hurt. Lisa was just about to call you."
"Hunter."
Stillness on the other side of the line. He had to swallow around the lump forming in his throat before he could continue.
"One right outside the house. Tried to attack Jayla. Fled. I have the house on lockdown."
"We'll be right there."
Arturo paced Lisa's office as he waited for the others to regroup and get back. He heard Jayla and the shapeshifter settle down in the dining room. If they knew what was good for them, they'd stay there until it was safe to leave. Though God knows when that will be.
The mood in the dining room weighed on Jayla like a huge, wet blanket. Arturo had left at sunset, to help Ava Sledge with 'something'. The rest of the pack had stalked the mansion since they'd come back home, checking and double-checking doors and widows. Eventually they'd all gravitated to the dining room where Jayla and Jesse had been making quite conversation about comics and other distracting subjects.
Jayla knew Jesse had been trying to catch her eye for the past ten minutes or so, but she kept her head down, desperately sorting through her thoughts. Ginger leapt up into her lap and formed a thankful source of warmth, making her realize how cold her hands were.
"I'm sorry," she said, flinching at how loud her voice sounded breaking the silence.
"Sorry for what?" Vivian asked. She'd taken a seat on the dining room table, half sitting, half crouched, ready to spring into action.
Jayla waved in the direction of the backyard, thankful that Vivian's gaze was so easy to meet. While Melissa paced like a caged tiger, Dorothy huddled in a corner and Lisa glared holes in her laptop screen, Vivian's posture and expression remained deceptively relaxed. Alert, yes, but no angry or scared.
"I'm sorry I showed myself to that hunter." The thought of silver spears, of the woman who had to be her own age staring up at her in pure horror, of how quickly and clumsily she'd blown her cover to a hunter, all swirled inside her head, an emotional trash tornado. "We-, I should have realized the danger. I didn't think."
"We didn't think hunters would be lurking outside the house either," Lisa cut in, her stern gaze catching Jayla's eyes and not letting go. "That one was likely positioned to spy on us before she saw you. We must have run right under her as we went out scouting."
"That's fucking creepy," Vivian muttered.
"Could you get me up to speed on hunters?" She needed that blind spot cleared up immediately. "I get that they want to kill us. But, is that all they want? Are they, like, an organization? A cult?"
"All good questions," Lisa said. Sympathy pushed aside the worry in her expression, if only for a second. "None of my contacts have ever managed to interview one, so we have scarce direct data. All we have to go on are word of mouth and attacks. We can assume they mean to rid the world of all preternatural creatures, or to control us."
She let out a deep sigh, shoulders slumping as if under a sudden, painful weight. The tension in the room wavered, stronger, weaker, stronger again.
"I don't mean to alarm you. Dorothy and I have gone a long, long time without becoming the target of hunters. They are not an army and they appear to be split into different factions. If we're lucky, this lot will find what they're after and leave us alone as long as we stay out of their way."
"Or show we're too much for them to handle." Vivian's grin looked far too bright.
"Should I start telling people the Halloween party is canceled?"
Halloween party? Jayla tore her eyes away from Lisa and over to Melissa, who stood wringing her hands by the windows. Next to her, the giant wolf that Dorothy had insisted on remaining shook its impressive head.
"I agree with Dorothy," Vivian said. "We're not ruining a holiday for the sake of hunters. They're no danger to regular folks. As a bonus, they're less likely to attack us with the house full of witnesses."
"Pragmatic." Lisa pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. They'd been inching their way down as she leaned over her laptop, typing furiously. "But I have to agree. Canceling an event that's been planned for three months with less than a week's notice is going to raise red flags with the wrong kind of locals."
"You think we have local hunters?"
Jesse, who'd begun dozing in his chair, half-opened his eyes and glanced over at Melissa in a cat-like fashion, clearly as curious as Jayla about the answer to that question.
Lisa's fingers rushed across her keyboard as she answered Melissa, "We're not sure, but there's no reason to be careless. Ava's people are on it, and on researching the new vampiric presence in town. Let them worry about this."
She glanced up at Vivian with a bit of a frown and got an eye-roll in response.
"I want you all to remain indoors until we have this situation handled. We'll have to change our routines until the imminent threat is gone. Jayla, you are welcome to the same room you had last week. There is also a free guest room for you to use, Jesse.".
"Much obliged."
One by one, the pack dropped out of the room. First Dorothy, then Vivian, then Melissa and lastly Lisa. She turned as she came to the doorway, face bloodless and stiff, and said:
"You are free to use the living room and the library as you please, and help yourselves to anything you want out of the kitchen. Please, don't leave the house. For your safety and ours."
Most polite house arrest ever.
Ginger meowed and flipped over onto his back in Jayla's lap, demanding belly scratches. She fulfilled the demand automatically, letting her thoughts drift. She had far too many questions but it didn't feel like the right time to ask them.
As if sensing her inner turmoil - and let's face it, it was likely plenty of outer turmoil too - Jesse leaned over and put a hand on her shoulder. "How are you doing? Really?"
"Not great."
The hand stayed on her shoulder. "Do you want a hug?"
Tears burned the corners of her eyes. "Yes please."
It was a good hug. A bit awkward, since they hadn't pulled their chairs together and she had a cat in her lap, but still a good one.
"We'll be fine," Jesse said as they hugged, perfectly calm. "This sucks, yes, but trust me when I say this is the best case scenario for us. We've got a safe place to lie low and it sounds like these people have magical friends in the right places. This will be over before you know it."
Jayla laughed through her tears. "How did you say all that and not sound super condescending?"
"It's a gift." Jesse tilted his chin up so he could meet her eyes, keeping his cheek rested against her upper arm. "Seriously, we're both going to be okay. You remember how I told you I got stuck as a dog for a time?"
Jayla nodded.
"I did that to get away from hunters. Plus some vampires." He gave her shoulder a squeeze and reached over to help pet Ginger. "And I made it! Messily, yes, but I made it. With a whole pack of werewolves on our side, as well as a witch with minions, we're safe as houses."
That did help, but also, "You okay?"
Jesse started. She wouldn't have noticed if they hadn't been touching, but he did, shoulders stiffening a fraction. "I'm fine. Why you asking?"
"You just told me you had to hide as a dog because at least two separate groups tried to either murder or kidnap you. How could I not ask that?" Really, how was that in any way a weird question?
Jesse held her gaze for three long seconds. Then he winked.
"You have to be at least a level 10 friend to unlock my tragic backstory."
That made her laugh, despite everything. "Did you just quote a meme at me?"
He drew his arm back, his shoulder bumping hers as he shrugged.
"I like you, Jayla, but I don't think we're ready to exchange traumas yet. That would require more time and way more alcohol than we've got on hand."
He had a point. But still.
"Fine, I get it. I'll have to keep leveling up then, right?"
Jesse relaxed in his chair. "Right."
Better not be reading this wrong. Maybe it was her own desperation for close friendship, maybe because she'd recognized herself in Jesse's expression before he got his regular calm smirk back in place, but they seemed to be on the same wave-length. They both wanted a 'level 10' friend. She'd bet her cat on it. Or not. She'd not risk Ginger on a bet ever. But still.
Jesse cleared his throat. "Shall we indulge in further cartoon nostalgia?"
"Yeah, let's." Doing something basically on autopilot would give her time to think things over.
Arturo caught himself against the backyard fence, legs shaking. He scrambled over it without grace and collapsed to his knees in the fresh snow. Curling his hands into fists he let cold rush over him, washing away the scalding under his skin.
To his right, white rose out of white. Dorothy opened her eyes and stood. She whined in question as she approached, leaning down to buff at him with her nose.
"I'm fine," he lied, gritting his teeth against the waves of heat crashing out from his spine. The house wards had barely recognized him but he wasn't going to tell her that. At least his arms and legs had stopped flickering.
"Help." He bit back a hiss of pain as a particularly bad wave hit. "Help me get inside and I'll be all right from there."
Dorothy didn't dignify that with a reply. She helped him to the door before returning to her watch, their march across the backyard unsteady and meandering. He should have told her about the scrying points he'd helped Sledge set up, about the traces of hunter activity on the edge of town, and the trouble Sledge's crew was dealing with. He should have, but his bones were trying to crawl out of his skin and thus it slipped his mind.
Arturo made it to the couch before he collapsed. The usually pleasant indoor air contrasted sharply with the below freezing winds outside, burning him like he'd walked into a sauna with an active fan inside. That on its own was terribly uncomfortable. Unfortunately, overexertion cost more than discomfort.
He could smell the shapeshifter before he entered the room.
"That must have been quite the run." The shapeshifter stood in the doorway to the hall, leaning on its frame in a far too relaxed fashion. You'd think he stared down hungry vampires daily.
He could have lived with a whole colony of them for all I know. Arturo's eyes twitched as they began to glow. He cut his tongue on one of his fangs when the shapeshifter's eyes flashed in answer and kept shining. The bright light of the hallway behind him left him a shadowy silhouette with two shimmering spots of blue.
"You're still here." Stating more than the obvious took too much effort.
"I was invited to stay."
The shapeshifter moved into the living room and took up a new leaning-spot between the door and the nearest bookshelf.
"Apparently the night is dark and full of terrors for us supernaturally inclined folks." His mouth shaped a playful smirk that made him no less attractive, damn him.
Arturo bit back a groan and tore his eyes away, fixating on the spot by the fence where he knew Dorothy had hunkered down. The backyard remained frozen, his and Dorothy's tracks the only marks on the snow-covered landscape. He tried to hold his breath, but his body fought him, drawing in the scent of warm skin and hot blood, tantalizingly close.
He should be slower than the shapeshifter, for the moment. His legs were jelly and the mere idea of standing up hurt. Then again, he might manage another burst of speed, fueled by hunger and desperation. He tried to push that thought down, cover it with panic and disgust, but it bobbed to the surface like a bloated corpse.
The shapeshifter simply stood there, not even bracing himself. He was practically inviting a-
Bile rose in Arturo's throat. He buried his face in the nearest pillow, shutting out the sight and smell of anything but home and safety and normalcy.
His ears remained uncovered, so he couldn't block out the shapeshifter transferring his weight from foot to foot, pushing off the wall, making his way closer to the couch. Pulses of heat mixed with chills rushed through Arturo, provoking nauseating tremors.
"Burned up a lot of reserves, I see. Got anything to recover with?"
"Yes." He didn't. Of course he didn't. The shelf life of blood only mattered if you could get it fresh. What he could get his hands on tended to have exceeded its 42 days-deadline.
"Well," the shapeshifter said, far far too close to Arturo's ear.
He's leaning over the couch. The suicidal idiot is leaning over the couch!
"If you want something fresher, all you need do is ask. I'll be upstairs. I'm sure you can tell which room. Tah!"
Arturo gripped the pillow until its fabric creaked under the strain. The prospect of Dorothy's dismay at having her house decor ruined stopped him from going further. He stayed there, half-choking himself with the damn throw pillow until exhausted sleep claimed him.
Jayla had been glaring at the ceiling for close to an hour. Strange how that hadn't helped her fall asleep.
She didn't look like she wanted to kill me. Such a helpful thought. Not at all the kind that'd keep you awake all night. Nope.
One crystal clear snapshot of the hunter, staring at Jayla like she'd seen a ghost, kept flashing by and shoving sleep out the door. I prattled on like a fucking airhead and she sat there, in the snow, looking like Red Riding Hood minus the cap.
A conversation downstairs drew her attention. She didn't really want to listen in, honestly, but she was in desperate need of another distraction.
The conversation was short, but it lasted long enough to get her out of bed and over to wait by the door. Soft footsteps on the stairs told her Jesse was coming up alone.
Okay. Time to be a friend. Confronting weird stuff is what friendships all about. Kinda.
Jesse's steps moved through the hallway outside, stopping at the room opposite hers. She opened her door.
Jesse stood with his back to his guest room, hands in his pockets. Like he'd been ready for her. Weird.
"Your room?" he asked, already moving toward her.
Before she knew it, she was closing the door behind the both of them and Jesse was on her bed. This could be the start of a really average porno. Yuck, no, bad brain!
"Did you..." How the hell did you start a conversation like this? "I know this is none of my business and I honestly didn't mean to eavesdrop, but, y'know, werewolf hearing."
Jesse didn't flinch or flush or curse her out. He remained seated, waiting. She needed him to teach her to keep that calm under pressure.
Better to pull the band-aid right off. "Were you offering blood to Arturo?"
"Sure was."
Okay. Managed that without ending the world. Next step. "Is it weird if I ask why?"
"Nah, I think that's a fair question." Jesse's eyes settled on the closed door but didn't focus on it. "He's starving himself. Not the first time I've seen a vampire do that, so I thought I'd help out. They usually feel less guilty drinking from me than from a regular human. No risk of me dying and all that."
Huh. "Oh. Uhm. How nice of you?"
Was it? She'd have appreciated it, but Arturo hadn't exactly sounded keen on it. A frame of reference for this would have been helpful. Jesse's answering shrug hinted that the answer was 'maybe'.
"I've been expecting someone to call me out since the first time I threw myself at him," he said, leaning back on her bed in a way that yelled 'comfortable' without the addition of 'flirting'. "You're the only one who's mentioned it."
Interesting. Or odd. "The fact that no one else has, tells you…?"
"That this pack would appreciate their vampire a smidge healthier than he is right now. We'll see how that develops."
Jayla's thoughts managed to run five circles around that before she found herself a reply.
"But is it what you want?" Still going with blunt, I see. Yay, brain, thanks for this wonderful output.
She couldn't put her finger on what exact kind of smile that got her but it looked partially amused.
"Don't worry about me. Vampire bites are the opposite of painful and that man is hot as hell. He can dig into me any time." He underlined the last sentence with a wink before sitting up straighter and hiding his hands in his pockets. "My turn. How are you holding up?"
That was the main question of the week, wasn't it? Jayla's shoulders slumped and her traitorous lower lip wobbled.
"To be honest? Not great. Sleep isn't cooperating and all I can think about is that girl we ran into." She stumbled over to join him on the bed. "Was she really trying to kill me? She looked like she should be hanging out at campus or letting loose at a club."
She'd been picturing angry old men with handlebar mustaches and shotguns when they'd started talking about hunters. Knowing they literally could look like anyone was beyond scary.
"I'm guessing she's an apprentice."
One of Jesse's hands left its pocket and reached out, offering another hug. Jayla gratefully accepted it. She put her hand on his for good measure, remembering the issue with shapeshifters and absconding body heat.
"Didn't look like an experienced hunter. Which is good, 'cause they wouldn't set a newbie to watch this place alone if they knew who was inside it." He sighed. "Less great that she got away to report back to her people, but at least we've got time to prepare."
Jayla forced herself to relax. It was easier now with a friendly arm around her shoulders. Against all odds, sleep began to nudge at her.
"Apprentice? Are there like correspondence courses? Can anyone sign up?"
Jesse chuckled. Then he swallowed. She'd heard him swallow before, what with her new werewolf ears and all, but this was a loud, telling one.
"In my experience, hunters are similar to people trapped in a violent sect. They're no more fundamentally evil than the next person but they've been brainwashed and trained to kill. Tend to be pretty loyal to their own too. Keep on your toes around them no matter what they look like, alright?"
"I will."
Jayla had no plans on running into hunters ever again. Not if she could help it. If she couldn't help it, she'd have to get ready to deal with them. Super serious werewolf training, a-sap! But first:
"This is going to sound super awkward, but could we have a sleepover?" Prediction correct, that was super awkward. "Sorry for being weird, but it'd really help."
Jesse's smiling lips brushed against her forehead in a brotherly almost-kiss.
"I'll go get my mattress."
By the time Isha got back to camp, cold shivers wracked her body. She'd lost her scarf during her blind flight and hadn't dared pause to put her gloves back on. The entire way, she'd felt eyes on her, up until her last turnaround by the 24/7 supermarket.
She averted her gaze from the active patrol as she crossed Emma's barrier and made her way home. She'd likely be the last one returning. At least terror hadn't made her a complete fool; she'd taken all precautions, doubling back once she'd been able to slow down, walking in circles and twists, hiding her tracks with every conceivable trick in the book. The loss of the scarf troubled her, but chances of it ending up in hands that could use it against them were minimal.
She had to trust in that. Had to.
"Took you long enough," came from across the communal fire. She didn't answer, only held her head high and walked on.
The caravan spilled light out into the night. It should be a welcoming, calming sight, not a source of dread. But dread it she did.
As she eased the door open she spotted Rahul, out cold in the lower bunk bed. Relief brushed against her, but the touch was brief.
Emma and Jamerson sat staring at her from the cramped booth-like couch that occupied most of the 'kitchen area'. Open floor planning, is how Jamerson tended to describe their movable home. Isha thought she'd gotten used to confined living years ago, yet now claustrophobia came creeping. The narrow path between the airplane-style toilet and the kitchenette counter shrunk, closing in on her as she stared dumbly at two of her three mentors.
"What the hell, kid?"
Woxell appeared behind her, a restraining grip on her shoulder. His scowl froze her blood. Woxell had never hit her, barely raised his voice at her, but his disappointment was a threat far worse than physical pain or yelling.
"We get some texts, then dead silence. What were you thinking?"
"Sorry." She barely got her voice above a whisper.
Woxell shouldered his way into the caravan and shut the door behind him. He didn't slam it. Isha wished he had.
"I had people over to find your trail, and they reported tracks leading to a fancy antiques store and back to the park. Did you at least leave a marker before running off like a headless chicken?"
"There was a rival hunter," she blurted out. She immediately regretted it as a hush fell over the caravan's insides.
Woxell towered over her, a statue built from judgment. He searched her expression and she pulled on all lessons he'd ever given, as well as a number that Emma and Jamerson had drilled into her. Remain calm, but not too calm. Posture, expression, breathing. Posture, expression, breathing.
"Shit," Jamerson said, soft and sympathetic. It made her loathe herself.
"What did they look like?"
Woxell reached for her again, pushed her right sleeve up to bare her arm. Isha let him examine her tattoos, watched his frown smooth out and did her best to read him.
"Girl about my age, black, hair dyed blue." When you chose to lie, remaining as near to truth as possible should help you keep track of what you'd said. Firing that lesson back at Woxell made Isha's stomach churn, but in for a penny in for a pound.
"I suspect she was at about my level of experience. I retreated when she attacked, but she got my phone and I had to get that back. I-I'm sorry I took so long. I meant to let you know those last texts weren't from me, but I was too busy covering my tracks to type."
Emma whistled, long and low, as if in commiseration. She sank down in her seat by the table and put her weight on her elbows. One of her flannel-clad arms narrowly dodged a puddle of coffee.
"That changes the game. We should have known others would be going after the merging tool."
Jamerson grunted in agreement and frowned down at the map they had spread out on the table. A tourist map of Merrihollow. Isha didn't dare speculate on what the twenty odd pins stuck in it indicated. She had to keep acting, couldn't afford distractions.
Anticlimactically, Woxell said, "Go get some shut-eye, kid."
His hand on her shoulder turned into a pat and a gentle shove toward the beds, the other pushing his hat off and rubbing at his temple as if to stave off a headache. The low kitchenette light caught on his silver hair and the crow's-feet at the corners of his eyes. He looked exhausted, a man on the cusp of retirement who should be working his last days in an office, not gallivanting cross-country to behead werewolves.
This impression passed swiftly. Woxell's expression hardened and a stern look sent Isha scrambling up into the bunk above her brother's. As usual she got changed under the covers, her mind too a-whirl with the day's events to focus on where the whispered conversation in the kitchenette was heading. She pulled her duvet around her, cocooning herself in the bunk in a futile attempt at comfort and stability.
Why had she lied? More to the point, why was she still alive? Why hadn't the werewolf chased her down and torn her limb from limb? Why had it tried to talk to her?
Such impossible questions kept Isha up until dawn drew near. She fell asleep with no answers.