by Raci Ames
They’d seen the red wolf, but didn’t think he was a shifter. But just asking the question got their hackles up, and they started grilling him about his love life and ordering him to date girls but not Pia because they hated her father.
He didn't dignify their comments with answers, and certainly didn't show how much the questions bothered him. The men in his family didn’t want to escape Woodland Creek the way that Jeremiah had before he left. They saw it as a safe haven, a place to keep their secrets out of sight of the rest of the world. Unfortunately, they’d kept secrets from him as well, and still couldn’t forgive him for hiding the fact that he was a cougar shifter from him. He was ten years younger than his next closest brother, and they’d been a pack for years before Jeremiah started to shift. Their pack activities were almost always dishonest and illegal, and he was grateful in some way that they’d never dragged him into it. But when he started to shift it had been scary, and he’d had no idea what was happening to him.
Pia’s grandmother had told him the truth, and sent him into the woods with instructions about how to shift fully for the first time. He had enjoyed it for a while, the freedom of running, but his brothers never really accepted him, and that way before they realized that he liked boys. Afterwards, they became threatening and tried to control him, so he’d left town, and taught himself to keep the animal deep inside.
After dinner, they’d tried to make him turn into a cougar, dragging him outside and ordering him to hunt. With great pains, he managed to stay calm and ignore the itching in his bones that wanted to give in, if only to experience the sense of freedom he remembered from running through the woods in animal form.
But he resisted, knowing how many details his brothers would learn about his life, and how much it would set back the sense of control that he needed to be successful in London and with his business.
He got back to the building in town pleased to see that the Apothecary lights were off. Pia had stayed late every other day during the week, and he was glad she had taken this night off. He went up to his apartment, and before he could even open up his own door, he heard growling and screeching coming from upstairs.
Concerned for her safety, Jeremiah ran upstairs and slammed open Pia’s door, grateful to her father for insisting both of them keep their doors unlocked inside of the building. He found a mess and a fight going on, but it was nothing like he expected. The woman and the wolf were covered in the same feathers that spread all around the room. Both shrieked in their respective voices happily, while tugging on opposite ends of a pillow. Three similar pillow cases were tattered and strewn about the room. It was a testament to how much fun both Pia and Heart were having because the canine didn’t notice him come in to the apartment for a good five minutes.
"What the actual hell is going on here?" Jeremiah asked to get their attention. Heart’s ears perked and he dropped his nose, stalking to the door to get closer to where Jeremiah stood.
“Jeremiah?” Pia asked, still out of breath from the giggling and general silliness that had happened quite by accident when she had been folding her laundry and the wolf had interfered to get her attention.
“Yes. You ok Pia?” he asked the girl, just as the wolf stalked silently over to him, and took a sniff. Heart glared, if that was possible, and bared his teeth, looking scarier than Jeremiah had seen him before. Heart sniffed around Jeremiah, getting closer than he’d ever been. His tail spiked, and his fur stood up, but he stayed silent so that Pia didn’t know what was happening. For a moment or two they had a standoff, and Jeremiah geared up mentally to go toe to toe with the beast.
But then Pia came over and stood next to Heart, holding his collar. The canine calmed down and Jeremiah had no choice but to do the same or look ridiculous. Clearly Pia didn’t need saving, although she would need help getting the feathers cleaned. “Yes. Fine. We were having fun, actually. More fun than I’ve had in a long time,” she said, and Jeremiah didn’t have the heart to give any kind of a lecture on the dangers of playing tug with an animal who could turn unpredictable at any moment, considering he was a wolf.
Heart didn’t calm immediately at Pia’s touch the way he usually would. His black nose continued to twitch, as if something in the air disgusted him. Jeremiah tried not to take it personally, but after the night he had, that was hard. He just wanted to chill for a bit with someone who didn’t think that he was a waste of space.
Instead Jeremiah sighed, looking around the room. “If you make me some hot chocolate, I’ll clean up the feathers. Deal?” he asked. He didn’t really care about the drink. He just wasn’t up for going downstairs alone. And if the wolf didn’t like it, than that was just tough. He was going to hang out until Pia sent him off.
• • • •
Clark stood by while Jeremiah picked up, keeping close watch to make sure he didn’t make a mess of anything significant that might leave Pia confused about the placement of things in her own home. Cori had done an incredible job at setting things up and labeling them before she had gone back to her residency. She had promised to come to visit as soon as possible, but Clark was doing everything he could to keep things where they belonged. It was easy enough to do a lap around the small apartment once Pia was asleep, moving things to where they needed to be with his mouth. It wasn’t all that different from his time in the woods, when he would collect branches and leaves to make himself a den. Except that if anyone discovered these skills, they’d surely have questions he wasn’t interested in answering.
Jeremiah was more effective and considerate with the task than Clark expected, but he knew from listening that designing and organizing space was a particular specialty. Clark had been neat enough in his human life, but he didn’t have any kind of artistic skill. He envied the easy way that Jeremiah moved, and tried not to give the man any extra credit for plumping pillows and straightening cushions, going above and beyond what he’d offered. All the details Jeremiah paid attention to were things that Pia might not have noticed even if she had been able to see, but each movement would make her more comfortable the next time she used the living room.
This display of domestic affection made Clark’s stomach ache, and his hackles raise. He busied himself with the floor lamps, using his paw to flip switches that Cori had set up for him. She’d taught him to turn on the lights, not expecting him to get it, but of course he had. They praised his abilities so much, he felt guilty for accepting their praise. Cori was even looking to see if there were any domesticated wolves that they could try to turn into Seeing Eye Companions, to see if the success they’d had with him could be replicated. He knew that it couldn’t but wasn’t about to explain why.
With all of the lights on, he could see Jeremiah was examining him, and Clark felt exposed. Clark’s gut had gnawed at him since the man had come to the door. His scent was more woodsy than usual, and he definitely seemed stressed about something. Perhaps Clark was simply picking up on Jeremiah’s anxiety and not shaking it off very well. Maybe it was time to spend a bit of time on his own, away from the humans and their complex emotions.
It had been quite a few days since he’d been on a hunt. He didn’t need to source his own food anymore, seeing as Pia shared every meal and fed him much more like a human companion then canine one. So he forgot that the hunt was more about stretching his legs and his wolfish instincts. Hunting had been his favorite activity before Pia. He loved serving as her eyes, and making life more enjoyable for her. He had a sense of peace and balance now that he had never felt anywhere he’d lived before. It made it easier for him to come to terms with all of the ways he was compromising to live as a wolf in the human world.
In the kitchen, Pia finished boiling water, and set about mixing the chocolate powder with the warm milk. It was a simple task, and one she had likely done a million times in her life, but not often since she became blind. But she hadn’t been close to using a stove to boil water before Clark came to be with her. He liked to think that he was a little responsible for her t
o feel safe enough to try new things. And he knew that she was no longer depressed like she had been before.
She took down the vintage tin of biscuits that she kept on top of the refrigerator. They were Clark’s favorite, and Jeremiah’s too, apparently.
“Are these the one’s your grandmother used to sell at the shop?” Jeremiah asked. Happiness bubbled in his voice as he blew into his hot chocolate to cool it off.
“The very same,” Pia said, taking one off of the plate and offering it to Clark to eat. “Cori and I found a recipe book when we first started clearing things out. It took us a couple tries, but we managed to make them taste the same. I can’t vouch for how they look.”
“Pretty good, if memory serves,” Jeremiah said, taking one and dipping it in his hot chocolate before slipping it between his lips. From the pleasure on his face, it was clear that it meant something to him, and that he was savoring it. “I never understood how she combined butterscotch and licorice to make something that tastes so good.”
“I know. Should be gross, right?”
Jeremiah nodded. “Somehow it’s not, but she’s the only one who ever put those flavors together like that. Believe me, I’ve looked. The British are very into their biscuits, though they take them with tea. I’ve tried every bakery in London trying to find something close. I never did.”
Pia smiled, and Clark felt suddenly that he was intruding on a very private moment, one he didn’t want to witness given his current edginess. Seeing as Jeremiah was there and staying for at least a bit, he decided to take the opportunity to go on a hunt. He walked over to the door and pressed the buzzer that clued Pia in that he needed to go out.
Jeremiah stared at him with daggers when Pia started to get up, but that wasn’t what Clark had in mind. He used his mouth to pull the door open for himself, and hoped that Jeremiah would understand he was going alone. He also hoped he could trust the man to stay with Pia until he returned. He ran out the door and down the flight of steps to the street, wandering into the back alley, walking slowly through the shadows until he confirmed that the streets were basically empty. he took off, running towards the woods. He didn’t switch into fast mode until he had made it beyond the cover of the trees and then he gave in and went top speed.
• • • •
“Man that guy really doesn't like me," Jeremiah said, gulping the drink like it had a hidden power to erase the hate he felt from the canine.
“He’s not a guy. He’s a wolf,” Pia said, pushing the kettle towards him in case he wanted more. Jeremiah stayed quiet and she felt pressed to go on. “He’s a miracle.”
"Maybe," he said, dipping one of the cookies. He put it to his mouth, sucking the liquid off onto his tongue. He tried not to think about the fact that the last time they’d enjoyed this exact snack, it had been interlaced with kisses, mixing the flavor of the biscuits and the texture of her lips.
They’d come a long way over the past week, bonding over the store and settling into the apartment building. But they’d both carefully avoided any heavy topics. He hadn’t brought up their romance, and she hadn’t pressed him about why he came back.
He was determined not to ruin the experience of the nostalgic snack, but there was something about Heart that had nagged at him from the first moment, and now that he’d been with his brothers, he felt even more pressed about it. Even if it made Pia angry, he had to say something.
“I don’t trust him. And, given that this is the first time he left you alone in the room with me, I’d say the feeling is mutual.” It had been a long time since he’d felt this kind of elemental distrust of anyone else. And the fact that it wasn’t an actual person would have been laughable, had he been anywhere else but Woodland Creek.
“You’re reading way too much into this,” Pia said. “And you need to stop humanizing him.” Jeremiah looked into his mug, and realized that was exactly what he was doing. The way the wolf looked at him reminded him of his brothers when they’d shifted tonight.
He considered what she may or may not have known about life in Woodland Creek. They’d both heard plenty of rumors growing up about the various supernatural legends that surrounded the town.
“C’mon, you’ve heard the rumors about Woodland Creek, right?” he asked, keeping it light.
“Jeremiah, I’ve lived here my whole life. They’re not just rumors. Werewolves exist. Other animals can shift too. My grandmother used to treat them,” she said, crumpling her face like she tasted something bad.
His eyes popped out of his head and he was glad that she couldn’t see his face. He knew her parents were incredibly prejudiced, but they’d never discussed it. He hand’t wanted to bring up the subject in high school for fear she would discover the truth about him. Growing into a cougar had happened slowly for him, and the first signs came from nowhere. Strange and uncontrollable things happened at the most inconvenient times. A teacher would yell at him and fur would grow on his legs. He’d get turned on and grow fangs. The physical changes came with a rage and a desperate need to destroy things. It was compounded by an epic sense of loneliness and confusion because he felt alone and freakish.
Like puberty on crack, it happened far too often around Pia. He had to run out on so many different occasions because the shift would begin when he got even the littlest bit turned. He frequently made clumsy excuses to leave quickly in order to go and hide in the woods.
Pia’s grandmother was the first person to notice what was happening to him when his body was changing in uncontrollable bits. She told him that he was a shifter, and that there were probably more in his family. But he’d never heard a word about cougars at home, so he’d been sure her advice was dead wrong.
When he’d finally fully shifted and run into his brothers they’d attacked him because they hadn’t recognized him. When his oldest brother cottoned on and tried to defend him, the other two had turned and worked him over but good. They’d both gone to see Pia’s grandmother who had stitched them up and provided healing herbs. Jeremiah’s cuts and bruises had healed but on the inside he was scarred.
“I thought your whole family hated shifters, but you knew your grandmother treated them? Why didn’t you ever tell me that before?” he asked. He’d hidden the truth from her when they were together in high school, and now wondered if things might have been different for them if he confided in her.
“She told me that it wasn’t to be discussed, ever. That people who shifted were entitled to keep secrets that protected them, and that my life would be easier if I kept it separate from the shifters around here. But I know she treated them. She was killed by one who lost it on her, someone she was trying to help.”
“I didn’t know that,” Jeremiah gulped.
“Yes, well, we didn’t exactly make it public. But I’ve seen them as well. You can’t be an EMT around here without an occasional incident. It’s always violent,” she said, a dark look on her face.
“Don’t you think maybe some are nice?” he asked, debating about telling her about himself. He had worked hard to get himself under control, but he couldn’t say the same about any others. What if Heart really was a shifter and turned on Pia? It was better for Jeremiah to find out the truth before she did.
Pia shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe some are, but they’re not the ones that make themselves known. My grandmother had a- a spell of sorts in her recipe book, about how to figure out if people or animals were shifters. Cori read it accidentally, and thought it was a joke. There were a few more in the book, so I had to stop her from reading them.”
“Yes, well your grandmother was an unusually wise woman,” he said, wondering if the “spell” would work on Heart. He was curious about what else was in that book, but he closed his mind to it, pushing it towards tomorrow. Tonight, he wanted to relax, and Pia’s sweet scent distracted him.
“She was,” Pia said, sighing sadly and Jeremiah wanted scoop her up and gather her in his arms.
In the meantime, he really wanted to kiss her. Thinking a
bout how he’d felt as a teenager had him fixated on her lips, and he needed to make contact. He went for the nostalgia trip.
“Any chance you’d be up for snuggling up and watching a movie with me?” he asked, walking to the sink to put their dishes away and keeping the invitation casual.
Pia got a stormy look on her face. “In case you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly ‘watch’ anything these days.” Her voice had a hard edge that warned him that he offended her, so he backpedaled quickly.
“I’m just not ready for bed and I thought perhaps we could put on something you know well enough to be entertained by your memories of the movie, and the dialogue.” He finished rinsing the dishes and wiping the counter down with a towel. “I could really use a cuddle,” he said honestly
“Not used to going so long without... companionship?”
“No actually. I’m not looking for companionship,” he said, mimicking her emphasis on the word. “Look I missed you a lot over the years I know that you have no way of knowing this because I was bad at keeping in touch. But there a lot of nights I wished you and I could just hang out watching movies, snuggling on the couch. “Right,” Pia said, not closed off but sounding suspicious.
“Come on, I’m even willing to put on...” He paused for dramatic tension. “Dirty Dancing.”
“I don’t have it,” she said darkly. “My copy went mysteriously missing just around the same time that you swore you would never watch it again.”
“Guilty as charged. And I’m sorry. But you kept making me do those dances with you and I was so turned on all the time I couldn’t think straight.”
• • • •
Pia blushed, remembering the constant confusion that had surrounded that summer. She never knew who to expect from Jeremiah - her devoted best friend, cuddling partner, willing Patrick Swayze imitator. They’d just started dating, but he was taking it slowly. Acting out the scenes in the movie had been a cheesy but effective way to get their bodies closer together. Kissing him was intense, and sometimes he seemed just as into as she did. But as often as not, he would make some silly excuse and run from the room.
