I cleared my throat. “And you and your kind have been coming to Wolf Town for—”
“About fifty years,” she nodded, sitting back in the seat and chewing on her lower lip. “We've been on earth for that long, watching humans, studying you. But our mission is over, and we’ve been sent a ship to take us back to our world. We’ve been waiting for that ship to land, and we kept getting the dates mixed up. But we've finally coordinated it,” she said proudly. “It's landing outside of Wolf Town…” She glanced down at, I assume, her wristwatch. “Well, it’s landing right about now.”
“And that's the only way you can get home. To your world,” I repeated part of her story back, blinking as I said those strange words.
I was talking to an alien. It was taking a little getting used to.
“Yes,” she said, sounding wistful. “We've been here so long, and if we miss it, the earth’s pull and trajectory will make going home impossible for another full year. And, personally, I can’t wait that long. I can't wait to go home.”
“And your home is…” I let that sentence trail off, glancing at her again in the rearview mirror.
“My home world is called Grok, and is the planet that is located in what your kind call the constellation Orion. It’s in his belt!”
I blinked.
A planet in Orion’s belt. Right.
The storm refused to let up as we neared the state park that Anna swore, up and down, contained the coordinates for where the spacecraft was supposed to have landed. As we turned onto the main road for the park, the rain actually thickened, something that I hadn’t even thought possible. Buckets and buckets of more water poured over my poor Subaru's front window, so much so that the wipers almost gave up, sort of flopping back and forth in an effort to make the road slightly visible. They were failing miserably.
“Don't worry,” Morgan told Anna, turning to glance at her in the backseat and pat her arm. “Even if you're a little late, they can't possibly take off in all of this. Can they?”
Anna shook her head, bit her lip, stared out the window. “I’m not so sure about that,” she muttered.
I pressed harder on the gas.
There was a slim spit of parking area on the edge of the state park. I sort of beached the car as best I could on the rain-soaked pebbles, and then we all bailed out, up to our ankles in freezing rainwater that was slucing off from the surrounding rock-filled forest. I had no umbrellas or rain gear, so the utterly cold water poured over us as we stumbled through the water and pebbles toward the woods. Anna cast about in frustration.
“We knew it was supposed to land near here, but we were never given clear communications.” She glanced at Victor in surprise when he groaned. “In any sort of normal circumstance,” she told him curtly, “a spaceship is awfully hard to miss.”
We waited as Anna glanced around uncertainly—a very human response—and when she picked one of the paths and set off down it, the only decent thing to do was to follow her. So we did.
Under the broad arms of colorful maples and evergreens, the torrential downpour was somewhat lessened. Anna was trotting now ahead of us.
“I think it might be this way!” she called back, voice almost swallowed by the roar of thunder. Morgan reached across the space between us and took my hand in her own warm one, squeezing tightly. We began to pick up the pace.
A bolt of lightning zigged and zagged through the air, striking a tree not fifty feet away. The flash was so brilliant it blinded me for a full few heartbeats.
“This is dangerous!” shouted Morgan over the roar of thunder that followed. “I mean, it's going to be a gigantic metal ship, this spaceship, yes? Won't that draw lightning?”
“Probably. Why is that a problem?” Victor shouted back, peering at her through the downpour.
“Problem?” said Morgan, spluttering rain out of her mouth and mopping her red curls out of her face. “Of course you don't care!” she chided him. “You're a vampire, and I’m a werewolf. But you’re forgetting that Amy is human—no offense, sweetie,” she told me.
“None taken,” I replied mildly.
There was a scream up ahead; it sounded like a woman's scream, short and sharp and cut off pretty quickly. For the limited time that I had known her, I was still able to recognize Anna’s voice. Anna had made that scream.
We ran toward the source of the sound, stumbling through the torrential downpour, running into branches… Well, that was probably only me running into branches. When I managed to glance through the rain at Morgan, I realized that she was leaping effortlessly past the trees as easily as if she were already in wolf form.
We got through the woods and came out pretty suddenly (it was really, really hard to see) onto an open field. The rain poured around us in solid sheets of water, but there ahead of us was a dark, writhing shadow in the middle of the meadow. I couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but as we got closer, I figured out that it was a group of people milling about in the center of the meadow. The scream that Anna had made was one of excitement, we gathered, as Anna was hugging every single one of the people gathered, crying happily.
The spaceship was nowhere to be seen.
Another crash of lightning, this time along the border of the meadow, arched out of the sky, bringing with it a roll of thunder that was so loud the ground itself shook beneath our feet. The spear of lightning connected to a tree on the edge of the meadow: one of the tallest trees shattered in two, one particularly large, claw-like branch falling off in a low groan as it toppled to the ground.
“This lightning is all part of the landing procedure, because of the electric currents of the ship!” yelled Anna over the noise of the thunder to us. “Don’t worry. It's all right! We're perfectly safe here!”
It’s not that I didn’t want to believe her, but it was hard not to be doubtful as the intensity of the lightning picked up, bolts beginning to hit trees surrounding the meadow at an alarmingly faster rate. There was a constant roll of thunder around us now, the earth beneath our feet shaking.
Morgan put her arm about my shoulder, and I shivered—partly because of the cold, partly because of the massive amounts of lightning raining down around us, and partly because of how her warmth instantly made me feel: loved. There was such a closeness now between us, a fresh, new joy that flooded me each time I looked at her, watched her flashing green eyes take me in like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
It was an odd circumstance to have this thought in, granted, but it wholly consumed me in that heartbeat. I knew that my heart belonged to her. Only to her, forever.
I threaded my fingers through hers and squeezed her hand. I could see her smile in the rain, her mouth turning sexily up at the corners, even in this cold, torrential downpour. She ducked forward a little, moving as fast as a wolf on the hunt, and pressed her hot mouth against the side of my face and my nose, her smile turning into a full grin as she glanced away then, squeezing my hand even tighter.
As I felt the blush rise in my cheeks (and other parts of me turning extremely hot), I knew that I could totally face a freezing October thunderstorm: I had love on my side!
I wondered fleetingly if people who died of pneumonia had ever had such steadfast convictions that love would keep them warm and dry.
Nah…
“It's coming!” Cries broke out around us, and some cheering. “It's here!”
We peered up, shielding our eyes from the rain. We didn't see anything but more storm clouds and lightning arcing through them at a dizzying pace. I kept peering up, shielding my eyes from the rain as best as I was able to, and in a moment, the rain began to lessen until it was only a few fat drops falling down around us to absolutely nothing. The clouds were dark and menacing, but the stormhad gone from a complete downpour to not raining at all—almost as quickly as if someone had turned off the tap.
And out of the clouds…it arrived.
The spaceship (because that’s really all it could possibly have been) was round and enorm
ous, a shining silver oblong object that flashed in the lightning that began to hit the earth around us. But it wasn't the usual lightning—that mostly kills you on the spot. The bolts didn't hit like they might destroy trees and humans but as if they were fingers of a god, caressing the dirt. The arcs of lightning lingered, staying for half a minute, a minute, suspended from the earth to the surface of the spaceship. Sort of as if the lightning was holding the spaceship up. And it was now lowering the spaceship down.
The ship landed silently, effortlessly, like someone had thrown down a giant's pillow from the clouds. It hovered for a heartbeat about five feet above the ground, rotating in space, and long, spider-like metallic limbs disengaged from the hull, touching the ground and finally settling.
A door in the side opened without sound, lowering to the ground like a ramp. White lights were flashing on and off inside.
We all stared at it, our mouths open. At least, the vampire and the werewolf and myself, the witch, were staring at it with our mouths open. The aliens stared at it with longing, and with joy.
“This is goodbye!” said Anna joyously, turning quickly and hugging each one of us, one after the other. She pressed her purse to me with a smile. “Please keep whatever is in here for the trouble of driving me all the way out here. I appreciate it so much!” she said. Tearfully, she turned and almost ran up the ramp, followed by several people from Star Trek, moonwalkers and a Wookie or two. Anna’s Star Trek uniform looked especially striking ascending a real-life alien spaceship.
I still hadn’t been able to shut my mouth.
Calmly, the people formed one long line and marched into the spaceship. When all were inside, as effortlessly as it had landed, the silver spaceship sucked in its thin legs, hovered for a heartbeat, and glided off and up, through the stormclouds, the lightning seemingly lifting it into the air. The spaceship parted the clouds, and then the dark clouds had swallowed it completely.
And it was gone.
The three of us stared for a long moment; then we glanced at one another with wide eyes.
Victor crossed his arms, looking up, working his jaw. “Well,” he said, drawing out the word with a slight eyeroll, “that was certainly a lot less theatrical than Spielberg would have led me to believe,” he said, after a long moment. “But still nice. That landing was a pure ten.” He wrinkled his nose. “The takeoff could have been better.”
“Aliens,” I managed, and I could hear the awe in my voice.
“Are you kidding me? You’ve been witness to werewolves, vampires and lake monsters since you got to town,” Victor snorted. “Aliens should sort of be expected at this point.”
We all stared up at the sky for a moment longer.
“True,” I said, biting my lip.
“We’re going to catch our death. Except for maybe the vampire,” Morgan quipped, tugging my hand and drawing me against her warm body and wrapping her arms around me tightly. “Let’s head back and get some warm dinner,” she murmured in a low growl into my ear.
“Oh, damn it, I should have taken a pic with my cell phone,” Victor muttered, drawing his smartphone (his slightly damp smartphone) out of a coat pocket and thumbing it with a frown.
Morgan chuckled and placed her arm around my shoulder, and together, the three of us turned to head back toward the car. And as we walked together through the dripping, quiet woods, I realized that my life had gotten interesting in all sorts of unexpected ways, and that I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Back in the meadow, on the ground, lay a drenched headband with sparkly alien antennae.
Chapter 12: The Invitation
They say that an alien encounter can bring people together. I just think Victor wanted a dinner that he didn’t have to cook. Either way, we somehow ended up at the door to the Witch Way Café as I fumbled with the keys and let all three of us into the quiet, empty space.
Victor stood in the doorway, nose wrinkled, as he glanced into the café.
“What?” I asked, throwing my arms wide. “Don’t you like the redecorating job?”
“No, it's not that,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “But I can't come in. You have to invite me.”
“What?” I asked, not understanding.
“I'm a vampire,” he said slowly (and a bit patronizingly). “You have to invite me in, or I can't come in.”
I stared at him, blinking. “My aunt never invited you into the café?”
He frowned a little, one eyebrow raised. “She found me…” He pursed his lips. “Well…”
“Your aunt was a little racist toward vampires,” said Morgan gently, brushing past me into the café and depositing her sopping wet coat on the coatrack, placing her hands on her hips and smiling encouragingly at me.
“So…” I trailed off. I curled my finger towards him.
“You can just say ‘c’mere,’ like I’m some sort of highly trained puppy,“ he told me, rolling his eyes.
I chuckled at that. “Come here, then, vampire. How is that any better?”
“It’s not,” he told me imperiously, stalking into the café and kicking out one of the chairs and sitting in it backwards, like he was about to star in a boy band music video from the nineties. “What do you serve in this joint?”
I chuckled at him and grabbed one of the laminated menus from the cash register. “It’s your awesome, standard diner food. What’ll you have to drink?” I asked him, taking one of the aprons off the hook behind the register and placing it over my head.
He sighed and didn’t even glance at the menu before tossing it onto the tabletop. “I’ll take a plate of eggs, bacon and wheat toast,” he said with a small yawn.
“And for you?” I asked, my heart beating a little bit faster when I glanced in the direction of Morgan. I just glanced in her direction, and already my heart was beating so quickly against my ribs that I had to take a deep breath.
“Just tea,” she said, with a small sideways smile, and sat down gracefully next to Victor at the diner table.
“You got it,” I told them, lighting the burner on the stove in the kitchen. It wasn’t really so much a kitchen as an area behind the cash register that included burners and counterspace. I dragged the bacon and eggs out of the walk-in fridge and began to prepare the meal. I also put the kettle on.
“I still can't believe vampires eat,” I said with raised eyebrows as I threw bacon onto a frying pan.
“We should do a show and tell!” said Victor blithely, leaning forward against the chair and smiling toothily at me. “The differences between vampires and werewolves—it'd be most informative. And, anyway, you’ll want to know all of this to be politically correct in Wolf Town.”
“Politically correct in Wolf Town,” I repeated with a chuckle, turning the bacon on the pan as it began to sizzle. “There’s a sentence you don’t hear every day.”
As I worked at the stove, Winnie wandered down the steps from the upstairs apartment, her nose wrinkled. She floated about a foot above the steps, and she had a ghostly book in her hands, which she promptly dropped once she’d spotted Victor. Well, the book didn’t so much drop as float in mid-air. Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared the vampire down. “What's he doing here?” she huffed, crossing her arms. “Seriously, Amy, vampires aren't the nicest sorts of people—”
“I can hear you, you know,” said Victor, looking directly at her. “God, you even have a ghost problem in this joint.”
“Ghosts?” said Morgan, raising an eyebrow. “Amy, you have ghosts?”
“Just one, and she's very friendly,” I said, smiling encouragingly as I placed a few slices of wheat bread in the toaster. “Winnie, please be nice. And, Victor, I can uninvite you, you know.”
“You can't!” he said blithely. “It's in the rules.”
Winnie sighed out and hovered above one of the steps with a small frown. “He’s right,” she muttered. Then: “I’m going back up. Tell me when he’s gone,” she said with a frown, drifting back up toward the apartment, and presu
mably through the door and out of sight.
“How did you end up in Wolf Town, Victor?” I asked. I began cracking eggs.
Morgan chuckled at that, running her long fingers through her still-damp red hair. It was beginning to dry, the humidity and the rain making it curl in every direction. “It's because Victor's weird, and he had this uncanny ability to find us other weirdos,” she said with a dry laugh.
“That’s true. Sort of,” he agreed with another toothy grin. “I came over to the states from Europe about a hundred years ago, actually. I was originally from… I guess it used to the Czech Republic, but I have no clue what it is now. I haven’t really kept up with family affairs,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I wasn't a grand, rich vampire, by any stretch of the imagination, and I wanted to start over in America. I knew about Wolf Town because I knew a few werewolves that were part of the MacRue clan over there.” He jerked his thumb in the presumed direction of Europe. “They said it was a great place to lay down stakes. As it were…” He laughed at his own joke. Both Morgan and I groaned.
I scooped the bacon, eggs and toast onto a plate, artfully arranging a few packets of butter around the toast and waltzing it over to their table. I set it down in front of him, and he smiled appreciatively down at his plate, tucking a napkin over his lap. I sat down next to him, flipping the spatula in my hands as I waited for the tea kettle to whistle. “I hope you like it,” I told him as he tucked in.
“Oh, gods, it’s heavenly,” he said inarticulately around a massive mouthful of egg. “It wouldn’t be better if there was blood on it. Well, maybe a little,” he amended, seamlessly transitioning to that thought as I grimaced. “Oh! Before I forget,” said Victor, tapping the table in front of Morgan. “You, missy—the Blood Dance is this Wednesday.”
The werewolf sighed and slumped forward in her chair. I glanced from one to the other and shook my head. “Blood Dance?” I asked.
“Well, you see, there are actually quite a few vampires in Moon Run,” said Victor around a mouthful of crunchy toast. “We always make an appearance at the Wolf Town Hallow's Eve Fair and masquerade every year, but we put on a dance of our own two days before the Fair. Vampires have to be first,” he sniffed. “It's, like, a thing. And, traditionally, Morgan has always been my buddy date.” He sighed long-sufferingly. “I can't believe I just said that.”
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