by Zoe Chant
“My father used to be a cop,” she murmured back. “And kind of a brawler, too, from what I’ve heard from Gran. He used to get into fights all the time as a young man. The day he retired, he said he was done with telling other people what to do and he was going to let someone else take over. And he hasn’t raised his voice to anyone for the rest of his life. Until now, I guess.”
“Well, it worked.” Joey smiled. Everyone else had drifted into the living room, a babble of voices directed at Doris’s father, under which his occasional embarrassed protests could be heard. “Listen, I don’t like the look of those two. I’m going to make sure they keep walking.”
Doris’s brows contracted. “Is that a good idea?” Then she looked alarmed. “Wait, the twins are out there!”
“I know. It’ll be fine,” Joey said. “I promise. I’ll go make sure they’re okay.”
She pressed her fingers over his, her gaze steady and worried as her cheeks pinked. So he learned in and kissed her. She hesitated, and then seemed to reach a decision, and his heart leaped into flame as she kissed him back, hard. He hugged her against him, relishing the promise of her curves. Then he let go, and slipped noiselessly out.
“Wait! Don’t you need your coat?”
“It’s not that cold. I won’t be gone long.” He shut the door quietly behind him.
It was snowing softly. Joey shifted and paced behind the two men, who stayed in human form because of the bags they carried, which were too bulky and heavy for wolves to carry in their teeth. Neither bothered looking back.
Some ways from the house, the short one said, “I don’t know what the boss was talking about. No shifters among those idiots.”
The boss, Joey thought. Could it be Cang?
“Said he smelt ‘em on the wind.”
“So? They’re long gone. I say we just take off.”
“No way. And get our asses hunted down for our pains? You know what the boss can be like when he gets mad. You wanna be the fuel for a bonfire, go right ahead, but count me out.” Another high, nervous giggle and then he changed the subject in the tone of an on-going argument. “Anyways, like I was sayin’, why not zombies?”
“Because, dickwad, on account of there aren’t any. Ever seen a zombie, ‘cept on TV? No. Nobody has, on account of, they don’t exist.”
“That’s not what Will’s cellmate said. He said, he seen ‘em. In Texas, right there. And anyways, I say, if we can shift, why can’t there be zombies?”
Joey forced himself to stay a safe distance behind the pair as the zombie argument went endlessly. He couldn’t help thinking of the book excerpt Bill had read in the writing group. These two bozos would fit right in with Bill’s cast of characters.
But he had actually learned something useful. The reference to bonfires made him sure that the boss they were referring to was Cang.
When at last the lighted walls of the compound glinted through the trees, Joey dropped behind. He thought about sneaking in after the two flunkies, but didn’t want to leave the house unguarded. Not with the enemy on the prowl. Anyway, Xi Yong was watching the compound; Joey couldn’t see him, but he sensed the qilin shifter nearby.
He had a quick mental exchange with Xi Yong catching him up on the situation, then raced back down the slope as the wind kicked up, swirling the snow around him. Halfway there, he spotted Vic’s wolf. The two met and trotted to the safety of a line of shrubs before returning to their human forms. Joey, who could bring his clothing in and out of the mythic dimension, pulled off the sweater he wore over his shirt and offered it to Vic.
“Nah, I’m fine for a few minutes,” Vic said, stark naked and dancing from foot to foot. “Vanessa’s got the house patrol right now. We’ve been swapping off. She sniffed those two dudes coming down the mountain before they sniffed us, because the wind was in our favor. So we hid.”
“I take it you sniffed out that they are wolves,” Joey asked.
“Yeah. We can tell our own kind. We also smelled what Grandpa calls ‘bad pack’ on them.”
“Fear and fighting?”
“Yes. Lots of fear. Lots of fighting.”
“I heard them talking,” Joey said quietly. “I’m even more sure now that Cang is inside that building. At the moment, though, they seem to have ruled out the Lebowitz house as a threat, since they didn’t find any shifters there.” He smiled grimly. “Good thing you and Vic were outside. Be careful, okay? We don’t want them crossing paths with you, and we know now that they’re looking.”
“We’re always careful,” Vic declared solemnly as Vanessa trotted up to them, plumed tail high.
Joey just smiled. He didn’t want to dampen the teenage wolf shifters’ high spirits. Despite his earlier doubts, he was glad he’d brought them along. They had turned out to be responsible and useful.
Though right now Vic was turning a little blue around the edges. Vanessa poked her muzzle into her brother’s leg, rather pointedly.
“We like Ms. Lebowitz, you know,” Vic said through chattering teeth. “I hope you tell her about us soon.”
“That’s my plan—as soon as we can get some quiet time together.” Joey laughed. “Now shift back. Time for the minions to return to minning.”
Vanessa yipped agreement as Vic shifted. Vic’s wolf grinned, tongue lolling, and Joey lifted his hand in farewell. They took off, the way Vanessa had come.
Joey trotted back through the snowy woods. He spotted the glowing lights of the house below, and decided to do a round himself. Not because he didn’t trust the twins, it was more to satisfy himself that all the blinds, shutters, and curtains were closed.
As he circled the house with its welcoming golden light leaking around the edges of the windows, he hoped that a peaceful, snowy night would be solace for Xi Yong’s spirit.
He shifted back, and when he walked in through the mud room door, he found Doris sitting on the bottom step of the staircase. “There you are,” she said, her relief plain.
He bent to kiss her, reveling in how natural it felt. How she turned up her smiling face to his. She smelled of apple and cinnamon and herself, and he had to lock down hard on the wish to whisk her upstairs right now.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Doris said as he sat down beside her, hip to hip.
“They never noticed me. They were too busy arguing over the existence of zombies the entire time I followed them.”
She choked on a laugh. “Zombies? They were arguing about zombies?”
“Let’s just say that I’m not too worried about those two being criminal masterminds. I was perfectly safe, and now I’m back.”
He slid his arm around her shoulder, ready to lift it away if she tensed. But she didn’t. As his arm tightened around her warmth, she leaned against him. “Are the twins okay?”
Oops. He’d forgotten that she would be worried about Vic and Vanessa. “They’re fine. They’re safe. By the way, did Xi Yong come in?”
“Oh, yes. Not long after you left. He’s in the den playing chess with Granny Z. He’s really good at it,” she added, as their fingers laced together. “I actually saw him smile.”
“Last week Vanessa taught him how to play, and by the fourth game he began beating her. He’s an expert at Go.”
“That explains it—Go is much tougher, isn’t it?”
“Well, there are more possible moves, as well as more pieces.”
She turned to face him. “You said you had something to tell me?”
He saw earnestness, and a little uncertainty. He wanted to tell her, but at a time when he could guarantee that five seconds after he admitted to being a fox shifter, someone wouldn’t come along and demand her instant attention. “It can wait.”
His fox growled within him and sank down below the surface in Joey’s mind, leaving a definite sense of a grand sulk.
“So,” she said, “do you want to go watch the chess game? Or, do you play?”
“I can play, but I’m not great at it,” he said. “I’m best at games that involv
e more, oh, possibilities for trickery. Chess can allow for that, of course, but fundamentally it’s math.”
“I’m terrible at it, though I enjoy watching them play. Granny Z taught us all, but Dad and Nicola are the only ones who are actually good at it. As you’d expect from math minds.”
“We can do whatever you like,” he said—and saw her shoulders relax a notch. Maybe now was the time after all.
“We can do whatever you like,” he said—and saw her shoulders relax a notch. Maybe now was the time after all.
Zoom! There was his fox, leaping in a circle as he began, “Or we can just talk—”
“Doris! The pies are burning!”
Doris gave him a rueful look. “The clarion call.”
No! Be tricksy! Sneak out the window with our mate!
He squashed his fox firmly, and laughed. “Let’s go rescue those pies.”
SIXTEEN
Doris
At least we aren’t teenagers, Doris was thinking with profound relief as Joey helped her dish out apple pie and ice cream. What did men usually want to talk about with the women they showed interest in, according to all the books and movies? Sex. Doris didn’t know what to think about that. At once time it had seemed as alien as the stars. Even disgusting, when some guy she was being polite to took that as invitation and pressured her.
The idea of sex with Joey was different. It was as if a sun had suddenly emerged among those alien stars. It was bright and warm and she wanted more of it.And yet it was kind of scary, too.
At least he wasn’t pressuring her to jump into that old, sagging bed covered by a quilt for a six-year-old, while the noise of the family rattled all around them.
As her hands worked, she cautiously tested the idea of getting that close to him. She wanted to get close to him. If just kissing him made her feel like someone had set off firecrackers somewhere at the base of her spine, what was Doing the Deed going to be like?
The thing was, she didn’t know.
She was going to have to woman up and tell him the truth. But how humiliating was that?
She wrestled inwardly with that off and on for the rest of the evening, as Joey took a turn playing with Lon and Pink. It was clear that the kids had decided to like this new uncle, for Pink nattered at him and Lon climbed all over him, and then demanded help in building a Lego Batcave, complete with Batcar.
At an inviting glance from Joey, Doris sat down to help. Together she and Joey built a three story Batcave, complete with a ramp, which delighted Lon. Pink sat contentedly by, building objects whose purpose was obscure to anyone but her, first out of blue Legos, then green.
But it had been a very long day. Even while playing, the kids rubbed their eyes and fought yawns until Brad came to fetch them up to the attic, where he promised them Uncle Isidor would read to them until they fell asleep. Doris’s mother had already gone to bed, and Sylvia retired to read a book. Marrit took over the TV room.
Chess was the main event in the den, Xi Yong taking on all comers as Doris’s dad watched intently, lured away from his stack of Smithsonians and National Geographic. Xi Yong beat Granny Z, to her delight—she adored a good game of chess, no matter who won. Then Nicola challenged him to a game, with Brad smiling as he sat at her shoulder and watched.
Finally, everyone went off to bed. Doris went last, and only after sneaking some kisses with Joey, standing in the kitchen with the lights off. When footsteps thumped overhead they broke apart.
For a wild, reckless moment, she thought about asking him what he was planning on telling her earlier, then lost her nerve. They wished each other a good night, and she retreated upstairs, leaving him with Xi Yong in the den.
She thought about him wistfully as she climbed fell into her old, creaking bed. What would it be like to sleep next to a man like Joey? Before she turned out the light, she gazed doubtfully down at her ancient flannel nightie, so old and faded it was soft as silk. But nobody in the world could say that it was anything but old-maidish.
For that matter, would he take one look at her underwear, and run screaming into the night? Weren’t women supposed to wear lacy stuff in red or black? The most you could say for her undies were that they were clean and practical. But sexy, they were not. The words ‘sexy’ and ‘Doris Lebowitz’ had always seemed to orbit around entirely different planets. And sexy-planet was a place she’d known about, but had never had access to. She didn’t know the code words to get in. Would he share them, or be repelled at her ignorance?
Click. The light went out.
She lay in darkness, staring up at the knotty pine ceiling, which held no answers.
She slipped into sleep without being aware, only to jerk awake what felt like five minutes later. She blinked around the dark room, then glanced at the curtained window. A dim blue glow outlined the old window shades. She got up, her toes curling on the cold hardwood floor, and fingered the shade in order to peek out. She looked upon a peaceful scene. The trees were dark silhouettes except for the delicate lacework of snow on their branches. Moonlight reflected off the snow in the trees and the white carpet covering the ground. The storm had passed.
She was about to climb back into bed when she heard the creak of a stair, and a tiny noise, like a muffled cough. Doris opened her door and made out a small human-shaped blob. She grabbed her robe and pulled it on as she ventured out. Her eyes rapidly adjusted to the dark. There, sitting on the staircase, was Lon’s forlorn figure. He hiccoughed on a sob.
“Lon?” Doris whispered. “What’s wrong?”
“I heard a noise,” came a tiny, wavering voice.
Doris listened. “I don’t hear anything.”
“It’s in the spyhole.”
“Spyhole?” Doris repeated. Then she remembered the knothole in the attic that someone had hollowed out a couple generations before, probably because that face of the house had no windows at all. She and Sylvia had peered out the spyhole as kids, then forgot all about it. Doris remembered having pointed it out to Nicola, what, twenty years ago? Closer to thirty! And Nicola must have remembered all those years and showed it to Lon.
His head bobbed. “I waked up. I heard noises. So I looked.”
Doris wondered if she should blunder to the far end of the house to wake up Brad, then decided to try to deal with Lon’s problem first. Probably he’d had a nightmare, and if she sat with him, he’d settle down for the remainder of the night.
“Come on. Let’s go up together, and make sure things are okay now. Then you can go back to sleep. I’ll stay with you until you do. How does that sound?”
“Okay.” Lon sounded less forlorn. He turned and scrambled up the steep stairs to the attic.
Doris followed more carefully, feeling her way in the nearly complete darkness. If she turned on a light, she might wake up Pink. She held Lon’s chilled fingers as they moved to the knothole. She had to squat down.
“Do you play with this spyhole a lot?” Doris whispered.
Another bob of his head. “Pink and me, we saw the red horsie in it. And the woof with all the tails.” He sucked in a breath. “I heard a woof. So I looked. There were lots of woofs.”
“Dogs?” Doris asked.
“Woofs,” the boy corrected.
“Do you mean . . . wolves?”
Another more vigorous nod. “Woofs.”
Alarm shot through Doris before she remembered that there were no wolves in this area. Maybe he’d seen stray dogs. Or even coyotes, though they rarely ventured this close to houses.
“How many did you see?” she asked.
“Four.” He held up his hand, barely visible in the darkness. “Two made the other ones run away. Then one got up and beed a person. Wearing his skin.” Lon whispered. “I seed, saw, his bottom! You’re not posed to go outside wearing only your skin.”
“Oh, my, he must be very cold without any clothes.” Now Doris was sure that it had been a nightmare. “Lots of . . . woofs . . . does sound spooky. But let’s take a look and make sure they�
�re all gone. Okay? Then you can snuggle back into your tent, and I’ll wait right here and make sure nothing bad is in the spyhole. How does that sound?”
“Okay,” the boy said softly.
“Go ahead. You first. What do you see?”
Lon only had to bend slightly as he pressed his eye against the knothole. “All gone. No! There’s one woof.”
“Can I look?” Doris asked.
Lon moved back, and Doris duck-waddled to the wall and pressed her eye to the dime-sized hole. She made out the dimples of prints on the snowy slope. As she squinted at those, a long canine shape trotted into view, tail up and curled.
That was no dog. Nor was it a coyote. From ears to tail, it was a wolf.
Impossible! There were no wolves in these mountains. At least not for a century or more.
But there it was. It lifted its snout, looked around, and then its shape smeared.
Doris blinked, blaming the tiny knothole for blurring her vision—but when she looked again, in the place of the wolf stood a woman, her skin pale in the moonlight. Naked to her bare feet. Blond curls bounced on her back as she ran a few steps toward the house, then vanished from view.
Vanessa?
That was totally impossible. Doris froze, peering downward. Her nose and cheekbone ground against the plank as she tried to see below her, but a moment later Vanessa appeared again, now wearing jeans and boots, and yanking a sweater over her head. Then she walked out of view.
Doris turned around and sat against the wall, her heart thundering against her ribs. Hallucination? The most important thing was to calm Lon.
She forced a smile. “The wolf is gone now, Lon. Everything is quiet out there. How about you climb into your tent, and I’ll stay right here, like I promised.”
“Okay,” the boy said, and hopped across the room. He scurried into the tent, from which brief rustling noises were heard, and then quiet. Doris sat where she was, half-aware that she was shivering, though she didn’t feel cold. Except her feet. She wriggled her toes. Surely she wouldn’t be aware of cold toes if she were still dreaming, right?
