by Faith Mudge
The difference, she reminded herself, was that she could keep both sides of her life in relative harmony, while Louisa had just hared off without a word to the people who loved her. That certainly required an explanation. And apologies. Gloria had not thought to suggest an apology. She hoped Louisa would remember on her own.
She wasn't worrying. And this most definitely was not a pack. At all.
"What's going on?" she asked Nadine, poking her head in the kitchen.
"They're still out there," Nadine reported. She was washing dishes by hand, leaning sideways to look out the window over the sink. "And keeping their voices down, thank bloody goodness. I was worried the brother might be a shouter."
Gloria joined her at the sink. Their shoulders pressed together as they craned for a better view of what was going on outside; Louisa had her back to them, arms wrapped around herself, and Eben was looking away from her. It didn't look very promising, but at the same time, they'd been out there a long time without either one walking away.
"I should get back to the desk," Gloria said reluctantly. "The phone―"
"Lissa's been pacing like that cat of hers." Nadine looked down at her hands, submerged in soapy water. "It's hard not to worry. If this goes wrong, a lot of other things will too."
Gloria frowned. "Are you okay with Louisa telling him? I thought, this morning, you'd say if you weren't. It seemed like the best solution to me, but if you don't want to be involved, you can stay somewhere else for a little while―he hasn't seen your face, and we'd let you know once he left, whether it was safe for you to come back."
Nadine shook her head with half a smile, like Gloria was being dense but sweet. It was a familiar look. "You always have a back-up plan, don't you? I had plenty to say this morning, most of which wasn't very useful. I would have said before now if I wanted to get out."
"I know you were upset," Gloria began carefully.
"I was unreasonable," Nadine corrected, "and yes, I was upset. I have some very set ideas about how people like us should live. They're wrong, but I don't always remember that. My alpha―" She never used his name. She had mentioned once that he had not allowed anyone but chosen mates to use it, and Gloria had nodded quietly, and later she had gone into the garage to beat up a punching bag until the inferno of rage under her ribs burnt down. "He wouldn't let us have contact with family, once we'd turned, unless they were werewolves too. I had a sort of fantasy that maybe that was why my parents never came for me, though they knew where I was. Because they thought it would make things worse, and they really did want me back."
"They should have," Gloria said. Her fingers twitched, but she didn't touch her. Nadine did not like being touched when she was angry or sad, and she was usually both when she talked about the pack she used to have, or the man who drove her to leave it.
"I always wanted a brother," Nadine added, in a more even tone. "I didn't get along with my sister, and I thought a boy would be more fun. Younger than me, so he'd do what I said.”
Gloria smiled. "Telling people what to do was a compelling reason for me to join the army. I was once told I had 'natural command'. I lived off it for weeks."
Nadine's shoulder nudged hers. "I can tell you that any time you like."
Gloria caught her breath for a moment. Because she was not actually dense, or in denial―possibly she was, as her mother put it, more stubborn than a block of wood, but that was because she had to be. She had been attracted to Nadine from the moment she'd seen her (she would never admit to 'the moment she smelled her', even if it was true) and the little tug in her chest had never gone away. She had trained herself with religious discipline not to push or flirt. Nadine deserved a place and people in her life who came with no strings attached.
They both heard an outer door slam and leaned forward at the same moment to check the window. Eben was still out there; Louisa was not. Footsteps sounded in the dining room and they both whirled around, a little guilty, as the kitchen door opened. Louisa's cheeks were wet and she was clutching a fistful of tissues, but she managed a tense smile.
"He'd like to talk to you," she said. "He has a few questions."
"Of course," Gloria said. "Nadine, if you could handle the desk–"
"I already asked Lissa. She's gone to cover for you." Louisa's smile took less effort this time. "Not going to mess up your business, boss. And I will pay for the plates."
"I never doubted it," Gloria assured her.
*~*~*
Eben was sitting on the bench by the fishpond, elbows braced on his knees, head in his hands. When he looked up it was with a shell-shocked expression that made Louisa wince, but Gloria just pulled over one of the garden chairs and settled in.
"Go ahead," she said gently. "Ask whatever you want. It's okay."
"So… werewolves are real." The words were barely out of his mouth before Eben was grimacing and shaking his head. "God, I sound stupid. Obviously they're real. You're real. Was she supposed to tell me that?"
Gloria smiled. "Yes, I said she could. It's all right to be confused, you know. You're handling this brilliantly so far."
Eben raked his hands through his hair. "Right. Okay. Werewolves are real and my sister got bitten at one of her awful friends' awful parties and decided that, instead of telling me, she'd just flounce out of my life like I wouldn't notice. That happened."
"I was scared," Louisa snapped defensively. "I thought I might... hurt you."
Eben flinched a bit but also managed to roll his eyes. "As if."
Gloria liked him. "Newly turned werewolves usually have big problems with self-control. I understand how hard it must have been on you, but under the circumstances, she did the right thing. People being more aware of… well, our sort, doesn't necessarily make it easier to find helpful information. There's a lot of rubbish out there to sort through. Louisa's lucky she found Lissa. Not that I was happy about it at the time, mind you," she added, before Louisa could. "You can't talk about this with just anyone. I expect Louisa has already explained that. The more people know about us, the harder it is to keep safe."
"Are there hunters?" Eben asked, eyes going wide again.
This was another reason why Gloria frequently wished the tabloid newspapers had not started reporting horror movie clichés. "Ye-es and no," she hedged. "That's more of a threat in America, actually. I'm more concerned about the packs. There are other werewolves out there who are very adamant about their lifestyle and would try to make trouble for us. Plus, the regular humans who would either not believe you, or would demand answers for themselves. The media would end up getting involved. It's important to all of us that you keep this a secret."
"That," Eben said fervently, "will not be a problem." He looked at his hands for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts. "What was that about packs?"
Gloria talked for a long time. She explained the physical change in as much detail as she could while Eben bit his lips, trying to suppress any hint of disgust; she told him about packs and the pseudo-government that operated across the supernatural community, and whenever he asked a question, she answered it as honestly as she could. About an hour in, Nadine came out with tea and silently pulled up a chair beside Gloria's.
"Yes, she's one too," Gloria said, hoping Eben was a better actor than he was showing right now. "Most of us are."
"The gardener―"
"Not Damien, thank God. He'd be unbearable as a wolf. Marking territory all over the place, I expect," Gloria sighed, making Louisa and Nadine laugh. "Have some tea, Eben. How long do you think you'll stay?"
"I don't know." Eben looked uncertainly at Louisa. "A few days, at least?"
"Good," Gloria said decisively. "There's no need to rush. If you help out in the kitchen, I'll set your room at half-price."
Louisa choked on another laugh. "Generosity itself, boss."
Eben smiled rather weakly. "Thank you. I'll do what I can."
Four
He stayed on all week. Though it was very clear he was accustomed t
o someone else dissecting his vegetables before he encountered them, he took Gloria at her word, peeling patiently while Nadine hovered at his shoulder. He even put up with Damien's passive-aggressive teasing and Lissa's thoughtful stares. Wellington was sighted rubbing his ankles at one point.
Eben's relationship with Louisa was considerably more strained. He was still furious about being left hanging, and Louisa was resolutely non-apologetic about it. They kept dancing around the issue of their father. Piecing together what was half-said, Gloria gathered that this man would not take Louisa's revelation very well. Also, he seemed to think Eben was hiking in Scotland, not tracking down a lost sister.
"But you can't just leave him wondering," Eben said, during one of the arguments that had become a predictable kind of daily show. He and Louisa had a way of forgetting that other people could overhear, whether or not they wanted to. "As far as he knows, you could be dead in a ditch somewhere, or, I don't know, shacked up with an anarchist."
"An anarchist?"
"Have you met your friends?"
"Budge up," Damien said casually, walking past them to the fridge. "I could be an anarchist," he added to Louisa, "if you're into that."
Nadine, whisking eggs at the stove, rolled her eyes at him. "Aren't you already?"
"Well, at least my friends don't talk in spreadsheet," Louisa growled, glaring at her brother. It was a true growl too, coming from deep in her throat, and Gloria―who had been trying to tune out everyone while she downed her tea―saw Eben start back at the inhuman sound. Louisa saw it too. Her lips whitened and she burst suddenly into tears, banging out into the dining room. Eben, looking shaken, fled into the garden.
"Is he worth all this drama?" Damien wanted to know.
Gloria shrugged. "That's Louisa's call. Stick to gardening, please."
Personally, she liked Eben, but his presence was certainly causing stress. She came out of the kitchen with her half-drunk tea to find Louisa crying on Lissa's shoulder. Lissa was taller but slighter in build, and was swaying a bit as she took most of Louisa's weight. Her hands stroked lightly over Louisa's shoulder blades, drawing delicate circles through the cotton of her blouse. There was such a look of wonder and doubt on her face, like she could not quite believe the honour she was being granted, that Gloria's heart ached. She slipped out before she could be seen and put on another load of laundry.
It had been a long time since she felt like that about anyone. She had thought, when she first met Nadine… but that was before she realized Nadine had taken her for an alpha, and the fight that followed had nearly ruined their friendship. Even now, it still rankled a little. Gloria was a human first, woman second, soldier third. Her identity as a werewolf barely scraped into the top ten. If it had to be her life, she'd do it on her terms.
It wasn't like that for Nadine. She had been turned so young; she had been part of a pack for half her life and would never really shake the habits. Maybe she didn’t even want to. The thought scratched at Gloria's nerves in the way only conservative politicians usually could. Between hauling out baskets of freshly washed sheets and pillowcases, wrestling a stray sock away from Wellington and helping a departing guest load their dozen or so suitcases into a tiny convertible, she could feel unease simmering low in her stomach.
She did not want Louisa to go. Or Nadine. Not Lissa, not Damien… hell, she was even growing used to Eben, found herself planning rotas with him in mind. There was a small, possessive part of her that would not stop growling its displeasure, and the best she could do was pretend she didn't hear it.
As part of her avoidance strategy, she stopped past the kitchen to grab the week's shopping list and took off to the shops. The guesthouse was some way outside the nearest town ("nothing scenic about a supermarket," her grandfather had once sniffed, and she couldn't argue) and the big weekly grocery run could easily take two or three hours, longer if she stopped at the library or got chatting with someone she knew. Gloria did not have many close friends outside of her daily circle, but she kept up nodding terms with as many people as she could, to stay in the loop of local news.
She picked up Damien's items first, crossing them off as she went: paint for the exterior lattice, a new pair of gardening gloves, a particular type of insecticide that he claimed was more environmentally friendly. It was also more expensive, but Damien was the reason she didn't have to buy half as many vegetables anymore, so it went into the trolley. Louisa wanted more candles and Lissa had asked for a scratching post, so Wellington would stop going for the sofas.
The bulk of the list had been written up by Nadine. In the early days she had included little notes beside some items to indicate the brand she wanted or the scent of the cleaning supplies; by now, Gloria had all her preferences memorized and grabbed three bottles of lemon disinfectant without thinking. All werewolves had strong feelings about scent. Nadine loved sharp, clean smells; the association was so strong that it always confused Gloria when someone else who used the same lemongrass soap walked past. Lissa tended towards floral scents, Louisa to vanilla. Gloria picked out each type of soap and shampoo almost by muscle memory, adding the mint variety she favoured as an afterthought.
At the check-out, she glanced at the list again to be sure she had everything. Five different types of handwriting wove in and out between each other, and even Eben had scribbled down a request for 'skim milk'. Gloria couldn't imagine writing her shopping list alone anymore; the thought made her ache.
And wow, here she was getting sentimental over a crumpled piece of paper while queuing in a supermarket, that needed to stop right now.
While she was loading up the car, a four-wheel drive pulled up a few spaces away. She barely noticed the engine cutting out, but then the doors opened and her whole body tensed with awareness. Werewolves. Two distinct scents, both male. She didn't need the burst of raucous laughter to identify them as young, or as trouble.
It took them longer to notice her. She jammed the last bags into the boot and reached for her car door; that was when one of the boys whipped around with sudden interest, catching her scent. They were both what Nadine would have dismissively described as 'white boy wannabes', heads shaved, gold piercings in lips and noses, sleeve tattoos of howling wolves. No subtlety at all. The quicker boy nudged his friend, jerking a thumb in Gloria's direction, and she sighed, pushing the key into the ignition so she'd be ready for a fast exit.
"Hey," the first boy called, seeing she was about to leave. He loped over. "Hold on, lady. It's all good. We're on the same team."
"Whoa, is she?" The second boy leaned towards her, sniffing. Gloria snapped her fingers under his nose, frowning, and he pulled back with an offended look.
"Personal space," she told him, trying not to be too harsh about it. The boys were around the same age, in their late teens or early twenties, and might not have learned the right etiquette. “Is there something I can help you with? I've got milk sitting in the boot.”
"Yeah, you had a lot of stuff, I saw," the first boy said. Definitely the bright one of the pair. "We're passing through, new around here, you get me? So, like, what's the low-down? Your pack local, or are you just here to stock up?"
It made sense to check that kind of information, since some packs were notoriously territorial. Gloria shook her head. "There is no local pack. You can go where you want.”
They both looked confused, like she'd answered them in German. "Say what?" the second boy said. "Seriously? Then you're, what, lone wolf?"
The first one added, "But you're a female. That's crazy, lady. It's not safe."
Gloria's goodwill screeched downhill. "It's been just fine so far."
The boys looked at each other bewilderedly. It would almost be funny if Gloria wasn't so insulted. There was a warning snarl building in her throat. This close to full moon, it was unwise for her to get angry, and she bit it down.
"But how do you, like, at that time of the month―"
"If that's all you wanted," Gloria snapped, getting into her ca
r.
"No need to be a bitch... bitch," the second boy said, and they both laughed.
An alpha would respond to a joke like that with a fist. Power got under your skin. Gloria had seen it in the army, the higher-ups who needed constant deference, and that was without the rumbling undercurrent of the wolf's urges.
She slammed the door shut and drove away, breathing carefully in and out until the anger faded enough to be in balance with her sense of the ridiculous. She caught sight of herself in the side mirror―a long, narrow face and a wry mouth, rusty brown hair pulled tight in a short ponytail, forty-something and showing it. Dressed in well-worn jeans and a plain button-down shirt, she looked practical, and hopefully capable, but she did not look dangerous.
Gloria was not an alpha. She didn't need to prove anything.
Five
"He wouldn't believe me."
Gloria looked up from her laptop, where she was running through the week's accounts, to see Louisa slumped in the doorway. It was getting late and the only light on in the tiny office was the desk lamp, which left Louisa in the shadows. Tomorrow was full moon. It was showing in all of them but Louisa particularly; her eyes gleamed in the dark and when she spoke, her voice was deeper than usual, throaty and miserable. This was clearly going to be an important conversation; Gloria shut her laptop and gestured for Louisa to sit down.
"When we were kids," Louisa said, "Dad was always giving us chores. He's big into responsibility. But he'd always check every detail, even if we'd done that thing a hundred times before. If he didn't like the way we did it, he'd take over and handle it his way. I don't think he's ever taken my word for anything. When I told him I was gay, he was…" She shook her head. "Indulgent. Like I was five years old and insisting I was a fairy princess. He was always perfectly nice to my girlfriends, they didn't understand. It took him two years to believe I fancy girls. Can you imagine how he'd be if I told him I turn into a wolf once a month?"
