Lupine

by Hanleigh Bradley

  He’s the sort of man lesser wolves bow to.

  Not me though… I’ve never felt compelled to just fall in line like an obedient pup. Jacqueline would tell me I’m a born feminist, but I don’t think that’s it.

  He turns his head in my direction and I almost bulk at the idea that I might have been caught staring, but I don’t back down, even when his eyes meet mine through the glass. His gaze lingers and I don’t really like the way his stare makes me feel.

  I feel drawn to him and I almost want to jump out the window so that I can cross the street.

  But the hypnotic feeling his eyes inspire disappears when he drops his eyes to the ground. That surprises me. I might have been unwilling to bend, but I hadn’t imagined he’d be the first to break the stare. He doesn’t look like the sort to back down; in fact, I know he’s not, just from the way his men are behaving. He’s their alpha and they’re all wolves.

  I tell myself not to dwell on it. It’s not like I’m about to cross the street with a tray of cupcakes or cookies and welcome them to the neighborhood.

  Looking away from the window, I go to sit at my desk so I can get some paperwork done, checking the orphanage emails and all the boring admin stuff that won’t get done if I don’t do it. It’s funny because wolves aren’t known for their admin skills. We’re more of a physical species… I guess that’s why those guys own a gym.

  I frown, realizing that my mind has returned to the wolf mafia that has moved in across the street, even though I told myself not to think about them.

  Grabbing my phone, I decide to call the academy. At least if I can arrange a visit for Amon, I’ll have achieved something before lunch.

  “Ashmount Academy,” a preppy voice answers.

  It’s not a voice I recognize from my own days at the academy, but that doesn’t mean much. It’s been a little while since I was gracing their halls, wreaking havoc. I wonder if the teachers even remember me…

  I sort of hope they don’t.

  “Hello,” I say using my most polite phone voice. The one I only use when I want something. “I’d like to talk to someone about a potential transfer.”

  “Reason for transfer?”

  “Er…” I’m not sure what to say. I can hardly tell her that Amon is about to be expelled from Stone Hill High.

  She doesn’t wait for my answer before continuing, “press one for ‘my child is underappreciated by their teachers and is not reaching their incredible potential,’ two for ‘my child is bothersome and I’d like to leave it with you for several months of the year until it evolves into something resembling a normal supe,’ press three for ‘my child is a bullying arsehole who has a penchant for taunting humans,’ four for ‘my child excels at all things but has the social skills of a hungry vampire,’ press five for ‘my child is actually a hungry vampire and keeps biting his friends,’ press six for ‘my child was mauled by a lion shifter and is now too scared to go to school,’ or press star for reasons that simply can’t be put into words.”

  It’s only then that I realize that all this time I’ve been talking to an automated system. Feeling a little bit dumb, I press three for ‘my child is a bullying arsehole who has a penchant for taunting humans,’ although I’m hesitant. I’m still not sure I want to tell them that Amon likes to bully humans. Also, I’d never actually call him an arsehole… although I might have been tempted once or twice.

  “Putting you through to the corrective behavior for naughty juvenile supes department.”

  I can’t remember there ever being a department for that when I was at the academy… Then again, I can’t remember there being any departments. Perhaps it’s just an admission thing. As long as I’m not voluntarily putting Amon in supe juvey, it’s all good, I guess.

  I hold the line and wait patiently until a gravelly voice answers, “yes?”

  “I’m calling from Silver Springs Orphanage.”

  “Oh! It’s been a few years since you sent us one of your problem children.”

  “Problem children?”

  “Delinquents… Brats… Whatever you want to call them…”

  “How about just children?” I suggest, feeling a little bit offended. I was one of those children, after all.

  “If you wish,” he replies dismissively. “May I ask who I’m speaking to?”

  “Lupine Cortesse, the manager at Silver…”

  “Lupine Cortesse?” He cuts in.

  “Yes…”

  “THE Lupine Cortesse?”

  “Er… Yes.” I haven’t got a clue what he’s talking about, but I believe I’m the only Lupine in the at least a three-hundred-mile radius so chances are there aren’t that many Lupine Cortesse’s in the world.

  “Well. Well. Fancy that.”

  “Fancy what?” I ask, feeling my temper flaring, a growl rising in my belly.

  “Just you’re a bit of a legend in these parts.”

  “What?”

  “A success story or whatever,” he tells me. “You know… a kid that actually reformed.”

  I almost burst out laughing at that.

  “Are you serious? I used to cause pandemonium at the academy.”

  “Well, yes… but you also got good grades.”

  “Surely, that’s not the only way to define success…”

  “Of course not… but it certainly helps.”

  I don’t respond. I’m not really sure what to make of what he’s saying. He says I’m a success… It’s strange. I’ve never felt much of a success at anything. I almost feel strangely proud of myself.

  “So, tell me about the child you wish to transfer, Lupine.”

  And like that, my mind is back on Amon and his future. This is important for him and I really can’t afford to mess it up.

  New Neighbors

  “We have to!” Jacqueline is insisting.

  “No. We really don’t.” So much for not taking cookies over to the wolves with guns.

  I’ve walked into the kitchen expecting to see Lewis preparing dinner to find most of the children and Jacqueline busy baking cookies for our new neighbors. Normally, I’d encourage the behavior. But neighborly behaviour is less important when you live opposite the mafia.

  Not only that, but she’s sent Lewis home early, meaning I now need to decide what to do about dinner. I LOATH cooking. Looks like we’re getting pizza tonight.

  “You are not taking the children over there with cookies!” I say sternly.

  “And why not?” she demands, her hands on her hips.

  “Because they belong to the M.A.F.I.A.” I spell out for her.

  “What’s the mafia?” Evangeline asks.

  “I’ll take the cookies,” Amon offers, suddenly interested.

  “No! You will not.”

  “No,” Jacqueline says too, “because Lupine is going to take them.”

  “I AM NOT!” I refuse pointedly. “I’m not about to go and play nice with those…”

  “Those?”

  “WOLVES!”

  “What’s wrong with wolves?” Jerome asks, his voice quaking slightly. “I’m a wolf.”

  “You’re a good wolf,” I reassure him.

  “Are they bad wolves?”

  “They have guns,” Amon tells him.

  “I have a toy gun,” Jerome blinks. “Does that make me a bad wolf?”

  “No silly! They have real guns and they hurt people with them.”

  “AMON!” Jacqueline rebukes the teenage angel. “We really don’t know that for sure. It’s all just speculation and gossip.”

  “Well… Not exactly. Rehan didn’t exactly deny it,” I tell her.

  “The only thing we know for sure right now,” Jacqueline ignores me, “is that we have new neighbors.”

  Shaking my head, I pour myself a coffee as she continues, “and what do we do when we have new neighbors, children?”

  “Welcome them to town,” they say in chorus.

  “Fine. Do what you want Jacqueline,” I give in, “but the kids stay on thi
s side of the road.”

  “What about me?” Amon asks hopefully.

  “Especially you,” I tell him before crossing the room to where Jerome is sitting quietly.

  “Jerome,” I whisper, too quietly for the others to hear, “you’re my favorite little wolf.”

  His eyes meet mine as he whispers back, “wolfie promise?”

  “Wolfie promise,” I agree as I pop a kiss on his forehead, before telling Amon in a much louder voice that I need to talk to him.

  He follows me begrudgingly from the room. Sitting down in the living room next door, I take a deep sigh. If there’s one thing I know about Amon, it’s that he’s never going to make this easy for me. Getting information out of him is like getting water out of a stone… It’s when I start using parent clichés that I begin to think I might be getting old.

  “I spoke to Ashmount today,” I tell him casually.

  “Really?”

  “Yup. You go for a trial day next week to see if you like it,” I say. “If you still want to go after that, we’ll finalize the paperwork.”

  “No need to wait. I want to go.”

  “I think it’s time you explain why.”

  “No particular reason.” He’s lying. Everything about his demeanor gives it away, from the nervous twitch in his wrist to the way he can’t meet my eye.

  “If you’re going to lie to me, at least try and do it convincingly.”

  Grumbling under his breath about a nosey busybody by which I can only assume he means me, he glowers at me. I don’t bother reminding him about my awesome hearing. He knows full well I heard him. That’s why he said it.

  “I’m waiting.”

  “There’s a…” He pauses as if searching for a word. “Person. They left Stone Hill and went to Ashmount.”

  “So, you miss your friend?”

  It’s almost sweet, especially coming from Amon.

  “Not exactly. We’re not really friends.”

  I’m not really following. Why would he transfer if they’re not friends?

  “Or a girlfriend?” I ask.

  “No. Just a person.”

  “Er, okay,” I reply, mentally noting the way his nose has turned red. Is Amon blushing?

  Amon seems to be in a good mood though if the new smile on his face is anything to go by. It’s striking compared to his usual snarky smirk.

  “Can I go out after dinner?”

  “Will you come back on time?”

  He hesitates. That’s one of the things I like most about Amon. He never outright lies to me.

  “What time?” he asks.

  “Nine.”

  “Half nine?” he tries to negotiate.

  “If I agree will you come in on time?”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “Will you do anything illegal?”

  “Not intentionally,” Amon says smoothly.

  “Intentionally?”

  “There’s always an ancient bylaw or two that I can’t be held responsible for breaking.”

  “Such as?”

  “Did you know… in England it’s treason to misplace a postage stamp, in Thailand it’s illegal to stand on money, in Singapore you’re not allowed to chew gum…”

  Oh, no… What have I started?

  “But none of those laws apply to Silver Springs…”

  “I’m sure Silver Springs has a couple of ancient bylaws too,” he tells me, grinning widely at me.

  “You’ll have to check out the law section in the library to find out,” I tell him.

  “Why do you keep trying to make me go to the library, Piny?”

  “To improve your brain,” I tease him. “Fancy coming with me to pick up some pizza from Anthony’s?”

  “Sure,” he replies with a shrug.

  “Go tell Jacqueline that we’re heading out,” I say. “I just need to grab my purse.”

  “No problem,” Amon agrees before making his way back into the kitchen as I wander into my office.

  As I search for my purse, my eyes fall on the book that Juniper gave me. I still haven’t even started reading it and I’m surprised how much I want to. I’m not usually a big reader; that would require time that I just don’t have.

  I’ll read it tonight… I’ll have a bubble bath and curl up with it and forget about everything else, I promise myself.

  Ten minutes later, stepping out of the orphanage, my eyes automatically go to Old Edith’s house. There’s a small cluster of people standing outside talking. I notice Rehan with them, but I don’t wave. I’m not going to start befriending a mafia of wolf shifters.

  Amon on the other hand doesn’t hesitate to raise his hand, waving energetically. Rehan has suddenly gained about a million cool points as far as Amon is concerned, and that’s a little bit worrying. Those guys really aren’t the sort of role models Amon needs.

  Rehan looks our way, offering us a quick nod of his head. The small action causes the person next to him to look towards us too. His eyes are striking enough to root my feet to the ground and stall my breath. His hair is on the longer side and somewhat disheveled and I could stare at him all day.

  But I won’t.

  “Hurry up, Stefano!” the wolf I saw earlier from the window calls back into the house. “I’m hungry!”

  There is a wave of laughter that rolls through the group before someone pipes up, “you’re dreaming, boss! Stefano is a sloth.”

  “I’m quicker than you, Vaughan!” A heavy Italian accented man says as he barrels out of the house before shifting into a wolf and pouncing on a man who I can safely assume must be Vaughan.

  “ENOUGH! Let’s go…”

  I try not to pay them any attention, even when I notice that they’ve all fallen into step on the opposite side of the road. I should have grabbed my car keys. At least then I might be able to avoid them.

  “Lupine?” A voice that I don’t recognize calls across the street, catching my attention.

  I tell myself not to respond, but I don’t want to be completely rude.

  “Yes?” I ask, refusing to cross the street to talk to them. I need to keep my distance. It’s safer that way.

  “What’s good to eat around here?” A shifter with jet black shoulder length hair and a trimmed beard asks. I hadn’t noticed him before, and I have no idea how I missed him.

  Pizza with the Mafia

  “We’re heading to Anthony’s,” Amon tells them eagerly.

  I grimace. I really don’t want to have to maintain this across the street convo for the next twenty minutes, all the way to Anthony’s and back.

  “You could come over and eat with us.”

  Why is he still talking? I want to kick him, but I fear that might count as child abuse. We are not inviting a wolf mafia over for dinner.

  “Or not,” I say between gritted teeth. “No doubt, you’ve all got a lot to do. What with moving and all.”

  “Nope,” the one with the trimmed beard says, crossing the road. “Nothing important at least.”

  He gives me a smile which I don’t return, and then he turns to Amon. “Nice to see you again, kid.”

  “Again?” I ask, blinking. Just how many of these criminals has Amon gotten to know?

  “Er… When I mooned that old lady…”

  Of course, it makes perfect sense that Amon would be making friends with the mafia. He’s a little criminal in the making.

  “I’m Camden,” the wolf tells me, offering me his hand to shake.

  Touching him would be a mistake. What is with these wolves? Why are they all so damn attractive?

  “Right,” I say. “Well, we can’t stop. A lot of hungry mouths waiting.”

  “What do Anthony’s sell?” Camden asks, falling into step beside me, not taking the hint.

  “Pizza and subs,” Amon answers.

  “Oh, I love a good sandwich,” Stefano tells us as the others cross the road too.

  When I decided to go for takeout, I hadn’t planned on an armed escort… I should probably uninvite th
em to dinner. I can’t believe Amon invited them to have dinner with us. The last thing I need is for the children to get comfortable with having the mafia visit for dinner.

  “I’m sure you’ve all got a lot of unpacking to do,” I say.

  “Not really,” the boss guy tells me with an infuriating smirk. “We’ve got most of that done already.”

  He’s got to be kidding me, right? There’s no way they unpacked a whole house full of crap in a day… Shifters or not, that’s impossible.

  “We had a lot of help,” he says by way of clarification.

  “I guess being in the mafia comes in handy for some things,” I say snarkily, although I regret it immediately. Snark is fine… but you probably shouldn’t direct it at crazy wolf shifter criminals with guns.

  He laughs it off though. “Indeed.”

  I go quiet, silently telling myself that it might be better if I just don’t say anything to them at all. At least then I might reduce my chances of getting shot.

  “Name’s Wren…” he introduces himself.

  “I’d say nice to meet you, but I’d be lying,” I say, before biting down on my tongue. Why the hell can’t I keep my mouth closed? Seriously, my big mouth might get me killed at this rate.

  Fortunately, he laughs again.

  “Well, for me at least, it’s a pleasure.”

  “I’m glad one of us is happy.”

  Amon starts asking them questions about the gym, and why they came to Silver Springs. I shouldn’t be interested, but it’s hard not to be. They’re fascinating… in that deadly sort of way. I take the opportunity to look them all over. There are only six of them and I’m sort of grateful they didn’t all come out for pizza.

  “Aren’t there more of you?” I blurt out.

  “Yeah, but only us six will be your neighbors,” Wren explains. “We considered buying several properties on the street, but I wasn’t sure the neighbors would like it.”

  “What? Living on Mafia Row? Probably not…”

  He grins and I feel my heartbeat race. Focusing on my breathing, I work hard to steady my heart. I will not be attracted to him… at least, not if I can help it. Mind over matter… That’s a thing, right?