Kennel Club

by Geonn Cannon

  “How many of your girls are you willing to sacrifice, Gwyneth?”

  “You want to hurt me, then fine. Leave them alone.”

  Cecily said, “I didn’t come here to prolong our ridiculous war. I’m simply returning a lost dog to her owner and issuing a warning. You seem to think I’m your villain, but I assure you I’m not. I’m a lieutenant, someone who was hired to do a job. You are coming very close to drawing the ire of my employers and trust me, that is something you do not want.” She pointed at Milo. “I left her alive. I didn’t have to do that. I could have waited for her to change into the wolf and broken a bone, trapping her in that form until it healed. I chose not to. We are done. This is finished.”

  Gwen said, “We’re not finished. As long as my daughter is still in jail for a crime she didn’t commit--”

  Cecily held up a hand. “That is the ending she chose, Miss Willow. She refused our offer of employment. We discovered that she would never accept our offer, so the decision was made to simply eliminate her. Nobody refuses us, Miss Willow, and Ariadne will serve as a cautionary tale for those who come after her. She will prove to those who came before her that they made the right decision coming to work for us. There’s nothing for you to win. No victory. You’re simply prolonging your own suffering and making things worse for everybody you love.

  “I suggest the next time you visit Ariadne, you take the time to say goodbye. Then move on. The firm is not interested in you, your girlfriend, or the girl who may have once been your daughter-in-law, but if you continue to make nuisances of yourselves, you will be dealt with. To you, this is a war. To my employers, it is nothing more than an inconvenience. Count yourselves fortunate that Ariadne will be the only loss you’ve suffered.”

  She took her foot off Dale’s shoulder, looked at Milo with disdain, and walked out of the house without looking back.

  Gwen dropped the knife and ran to Milo, who was still cradling her broken arm. Her whimpers had grown quiet, but her face was pale and beaded with sweat. Gwen cradled her head against her chest and stroked her hair.

  “She took my wolf,” Milo whispered.

  “I know, sweetheart, I know.” Gwen looked at Dale. “Are you okay?”

  Dale nodded, but she looked understandably shaken. She was brushing at her shoulder where Cecily’s foot had been seemingly without realizing she was doing it.

  “What do we do now?” Gwen asked.

  Dale looked at Milo, utterly shaken by how defeated she seemed. And Gwen, who had sacrificed so much to fight the hunters and finally had a chance at real, true love. She thought about Diana in the hospital bed, and the bullet holes in her blouse. She thought about Cecily and the partners at GG&M, and what they could do. They had silently dug their claws into Seattle and remained there for over a hundred years with no one even realizing.

  “We stop,” Dale said.

  Gwen furrowed her brow. “What?”

  Dale slumped against the back of the couch and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mom. But you heard her. We can’t fight them, not without losing someone else.” She put a hand on Milo’s leg. “Ari wouldn’t want any more of us to get hurt to save her. If she knew...” Her voice caught in her throat. She had to take a moment to fight the tears before continuing. “If she knew sacrificing herself would keep the rest of us safe, she wouldn’t hesitate.”

  Gwen was openly crying now, holding Milo. “She’s my daughter.”

  “She’s my everything,” Dale said. “But look at what we’ve learned about GG&M and where it’s gotten us. Where do we go from here? A kamikaze run? What good is saving Ari if she comes out of prison to find us all dead or mourning someone she loves? My job is to protect Ari’s interests and... I know this is what she’d choose. She would want us to stop.”

  Gwen closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the top of Milo’s head. Dale brought her knees up and covered her face with both hands. She tried to smother the idea she had just signed Ari’s death warrant. She knew in her heart she’d done the right thing, knew it was what Ari would want in her place. But laying down arms just felt so much like surrendering.

  I’m sorry, puppy, she thought. I’m so sorry.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ari once read somewhere that it only took about three or four weeks to create a habit. It didn’t take her that long to adjust to her new routine, but maybe whoever came up with the number didn’t have a whole platoon of guards enforcing the new habit. Mornings were awake at six, bathroom and shower, breakfast, work. Lunch. Then more work, free time, and in bed by ten. Everywhere Ari went, she was trailed by at least one member of the kennel club. The first couple of days, her bladder refused to cooperate while Frankie was leaning against the sink outside the stall, but soon enough it wasn’t a problem. She got to know far more about Segura and Vogel’s sex life than she ever wanted to know, but it was a small price to pay for safety.

  She still wasn’t used to her hair. Every morning she reached up to straighten it, only to find that it barely reached past her ears. It was less of a hassle, sure, but she hated it. She absolutely hated the breeze on her neck, and the way it just barely reached her eyes. She couldn’t tie it back so it was always just slightly inconveniently in her face. It had grown out a little, but she still had a long way to go before she was back to normal.

  Dale, on her first visit after the scalping, had very gently stroked it with her hands before declaring the new look made Ari look “so handsome.”

  After that, the meeting became bleak. Dale explained what had been happening out in the real world. While Ari was shaken by what happened to Diana, she looked like she might become physically ill when Dale told her about Milo.

  “Is she...?”

  “She’s depressed, of course, and she’s angry at herself. Your mom is taking care of her. I think she’s traumatized. You had time to process what was going to happen. She had her wolf torn away from her. I worry that it’s not really going to hit her until later.”

  Ari put her hand on top of Dale’s. “Baby, you have to stop.”

  “What?”

  “Stop this. Just leave it alone. Walk away, right now, before anyone else gets hurt because of me. I know it’s going to be hard...”

  Dale started crying and put her head down on the table. Ari put her hands on top of Dale’s head.

  “I know. I know. But I can’t... if Milo or Diana had been hurt in a more permanent way, to try to save me... I can’t justify that, Dale. Please tell me you understand.”

  “I love you so much, puppy.”

  Ari kissed Dale’s hair. A guard across the room said her name with just enough warning to let her know she was pushing the limits of the rules, so she sat up straight and moved her hands back. Dale sat up and wiped at her cheeks.

  “I told Gwen and Milo to stop. I put an end to it. I didn’t know how I would tell you.” She sniffled and laughed. “I told them it was what you’d want. I don’t know why I’m surprised I was right.”

  “You do know me better than anyone ever has.”

  When their time was up, Ari stood and pulled Dale into a hug. She breathed in her scent and kissed her hair. “I would give up my wolf for a full year if I could just have one night with you.”

  Dale held her tighter, gripping the back of Ari’s prison uniform with both fists.

  The male guard standing just behind them said, “Willow...”

  “Please, Burke...”

  He didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t force the hug to end.

  Dale said, “Every time I leave here, it might... I may never...”

  Ari stepped back and cupped Dale’s cheek. “Don’t think like that.”

  “Just stay alive. Okay?”

  “I’ve got some good people in here watching out for me.”

  Dale kissed her. Ari closed her eyes and let her hand slip into Dale’s hair.

  “Willow, we’ve really got to go.”

  She sighed and pecked the corner of Dale’s mouth. “I love you.”


  “I love you, too.”

  The rest of the day was almost unbearable, a comedown from the high of holding and touching Dale. It only reinforced the fact she was in prison and cut off from all the most important people in her life. She kept quiet and did her work. She followed Henning to the cafeteria and the gym, ate dinner with Gladys and Segura, and said less than a dozen words throughout the evening.

  Every inmate with blue shoes became a suspect. She spent so much time watching feet that Vogel finally commented on it.

  “Keeping your head down is one thing,” she said, “but if you always have your eyes on the ground, people might start mistaking you for a weakling.”

  “Right now, it’s the only clue I have to her identity.”

  “Unless she got a new pair of shoes that happen to be white.”

  Ari groaned when she realized that was a valid point. “So much for that lead.”

  The days began to bleed together. She didn’t read any of the books she got from the library, she didn’t pay attention to the rotation of the lunch and dinner menus. The only thing she cared about were Mondays, the morning meetings with Dale where she could feel like herself again. But even those quickly got harder. She could see the worry on Dale’s face compounded with each meeting, and she knew Dale could see Ari growing more and more despondent.

  Dale was still living with Gwen and Milo. They were officially cohabitating, a true couple, and Ari managed a sincere smile at that. It might not be a happy relationship, given the circumstances, but she was glad her mother had someone there to support her.

  “I feel like an adopted daughter,” Dale said. “They dote on me. I think it gives Milo something to do other than worry about her arm.”

  “How is that going?”

  Dale shook her head. “She’s depressed. Withdrawn. I’ve walked in on her crying a couple of times, but she always pretends I’m imagining it.”

  “Mom?”

  “She’s...” Dale ran a hand over her face. “Sad, but happy about Milo, and guilty about feeling happy, and worried for you. She keeps saying she wants to come visit you, but then when I get ready to go, she says she doesn’t want to take away from my time. I think she blames herself for not doing more to get you out, or for being happy while you’re in here.”

  Ari said, “I’d love to see her. And I’m thrilled she’s happy. The last thing I want is for all of you to be depressed all the damn time.”

  “Easier said than done, puppy.”

  “I know.”

  That day when they parted, Dale put her lips against Ari’s ear and whispered, “Tonight at eleven, I’m going to be thinking about you. Will you think of me at the same time?”

  Ari curled her fingers in the small of Dale’s back. “Yeah. I promise.”

  Dale kissed Ari’s neck and ended the hug.

  Gladys and Segura commemorated her first month in prison with a cupcake in the commissary. “No candles,” Segura said, “but you can still make a wish before you chow down.”

  “Something tells me everyone in here makes the same wish,” Ari said.

  “That would probably be a safe bet,” Gladys said, licking frosting from her finger. “But go ahead and make it anyway.”

  She met with her lawyer, Graham Cosgrove, and gave him her side of the story. She left out any talk of wolves and succubi, but told the rest of it exactly as it happened. When she was finished, Cosgrove carefully chose his words as he capped his pen.

  “This goes along perfectly with what I heard from your mother and partner. But it just sounds so bizarre. No offense, but why would a law firm like GG&M go to these lengths for you? Are you really that singular? Are you that good at your job?”

  “I am,” Ari said, “but that’s beside the point. I think it’s been a long time since anyone has told Cecily Parrish no, and she got obsessed.”

  “Well, I’m pretty good at my job, too. You have my word that I’ll do everything in my power to sort this all out.”

  Ari thanked him, hoping she hadn’t just put a target on his back as well.

  Elise Gilpin caught up with Ari as Vogel escorted her back to the library after the meeting. “Hey, Willow. Got a minute?”

  “Not really. I have to get to work.”

  “I understand. I just...” She glanced at Vogel and lowered her voice. “I just noticed that you seem to have built up quite a posse the past few weeks. I was wondering if you had room for one more. You know, safety in numbers?”

  Ari said, “Everything okay?”

  “Sure, I mean, I guess. No one’s knocked my head into the ground like Kunz did with you. But I haven’t quite bonded with my cellmate the way you have. It’s kind of lonely in here without a support group. Look, I don’t want to be the pathetic girl asking the cool kids if she can sit at their table at lunch. I was just hoping you could maybe throw me a bone.”

  Ari nodded. “I understand. And I think we can make some room for you.”

  Elise grinned. “Really? Thank you. Thanks so much.”

  When she was gone, Ari looked at Vogel. “What do you think about her?”

  Vogel shrugged. “She’s quiet. Keeps to herself, doesn’t cause trouble. Of course, compared to you, everyone in here is a model prisoner.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Ari muttered.

  “Blue shoes, though,” Vogel pointed out. “Could be damning.”

  Ari said, “You’re the one who told me the shoes didn’t matter.”

  Vogel said, “Unless they do.”

  “I hate you.”

  Vogel grinned and followed Ari into the library.

  #

  Gwen switched her focus from tactical to triage. Her first order of business was getting Milo to the hospital to take care of her broken arm. Milo was silent throughout her examination and the application of her cast. Gwen was obviously concerned but also relieved to have something to take up all her focus. She doted on both of the girls as the days turned into weeks, and Dale’s decision to give up on helping Ari became more and more real.

  She couldn’t bring herself to visit Ari, though she pestered Dale for details every Monday when she returned. “Is she healthy? Is she taking care of herself? Have her bruises healed?” Dale patiently answered everything she was asked. She knew that Dale was worried every visit would be the last time she’d see Ari alive, and Gwen had the same fear. She dreaded the phone call that Ari had been killed in prison. With that cloud hanging over her head, along with Milo’s depression, and Dale’s resignation, the house was in a constant state of melancholy.

  Gwen made the decision that as long as her girls couldn’t transform, she would also abstain. She would have to do it at least once a month, but she could make sure she did it where Milo couldn’t see. Her attempt at abstinence only lasted a few days. They were getting ready for bed when Milo said, “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Moving the decorative pillows to the chair so I’m not sleeping all propped up by them?”

  “You’re chaining up your wolf. I don’t want that. Ari doesn’t want it, either. If our positions were reversed, would you want us to hold ourselves back?”

  Gwen said, “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is.” Milo got into bed and smoothed the blankets over her legs. “Change.”

  “What, now?”

  “It’s been a couple of days. I’m sure the wolf is aching to get out.”

  Gwen thought about arguing but, in the end, knew it would be a battle she lost. She stepped away from the bed and stripped off her pajamas. She couldn’t help but notice Milo’s appreciative examination once the clothes were gone.

  “If this was just an excuse to ogle me...”

  Milo grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Added bonus.”

  Gwen got on her knees beside the bed and steepled her fingers on the carpet. She hunched her shoulders, then arched her back into a wide stretch. Her skin rippled and burst forth with thick, dark hair. Milo had leaned forward to watch the transformation and smiled
when Gwen leapt up to join her in the bed. Milo wrapped her arms around Gwen’s neck and buried her face in the thick fur just above her shoulders.

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” she said.

  Gwen nuzzled Milo and settled heavily across her lap. Ordinarily she would have gone for a long run, but even the animalistic side of her brain knew where she needed to be.

  A few nights after that, three weeks after Cecily broke her arm, Milo startled Gwen awake by suddenly leaping out of bed and running to the door. She clawed at the knob before she turned and ran to the window. She was making frantic whimpering noises in the back of her throat as she scraped the fingernails of her uninjured hand over the glass. Finally she dropped to the floor and began clawing at the plaster of her cast.

  “Millicent,” Gwen said as firmly as she could. “Wake up.”

  Milo pulled her arm up and bit it just above the cast. Gwen got out of bed and ran to her, stopping her before she could break the skin.

  “Milo, stop it. Stop.”

  “I have to change. I need the wolf.”

  Gwen said, “You can’t. You need to heal, sweetheart.”

  Milo kicked and tried to pull away, but Gwen held her tight. “I can’t do it anymore. I’m going to explode. I need the wolf, Gwen, I need her. She’s dying. She’s dying.”

  “She’s just asleep, Milo. When you heal, she’ll be back, good as new.”

  “She’s not coming back. She’ll think I don’t want her. She’s never going to come back.” She began crying. “I can feel her fading. I can’t... she’s not there, I can’t... she’s not even asking to come out, Gwen. I can’t hear her.”

  Gwen kissed Milo’s cheeks and eyebrows, rocking her on the floor. “She’ll be back. I promise you, Millicent. She’s just giving you time to heal.”

  “What if she really is gone?” Milo whispered.

  “Then... we’ll find a way to deal with that.”

  She let Milo cry until she fell back to sleep, but Gwen was up for the rest of the night hoping that Milo’s panic was unfounded. She’d been spending her days looking up stories about canidae who had to stop their transformations for one reason or another. There was a private forum which required her to jump through nearly a dozen verification hoops before it allowed her to view any posts. She found former prisoners, mothers, and athletes who were forced to ‘silence the wolf’ for their various needs. They all mentioned the drug Ari was using in jail, and Gwen kicked herself for not thinking of the internet before they sent her to get beaten up. She let herself wallow in guilt before she focused on finding help for Milo.