by Ware Wilkins
How can someone feel so similar and look so drastically different? It’s almost like someone took Abe and threw him in a meat grinder. Don’t be stupid, Sadie. That’s a bit of what happened.
Abe’s shoulders tense further under my scrutiny and he looks away, staring into the fire. The grin is gone and in its place is a frown that looks startlingly more relaxed on his face. All of my memories of Abe are memories of his mega-watt, teasing smile. To see a frown so… so at home on his face makes my guts clench.
“Don’t be rude, Sadie.” I don’t know if Alec is chiding me for staring or for mouthing off at him. I suppose it doesn’t matter. With effort, I shift my focus to Alec. The alpha.
“Sorry. I’m just…”
“It’s a shock,” Alec admits.
There’s a low growl that comes from Abe and it makes all of me ache, deeply, with pity and shame. “Yes. I thought that the lycanthropy was supposed to heal the wounds,” I mutter, unable to tear my eyes away but wishing I could.
“If he hadn’t died, it might have. But Abe’s heart had stopped while Henry was trying to turn him.”
I clench the arms of the chair until my knuckles scream, white against taut skin. “But--”
Alec shakes his head. “We didn’t say anything because, if I’m honest, we didn’t trust you.”
“Because I’m a bone witch?” He shrugs as if to say of course. “Then you should know that I can smell if you’re lying.” I say it with no emotion. I don’t even know why I say it, except that there’s a torrent of emotions in me that are snowballing and I’m a little afraid of the outcome.
“Hm. You’re cute. We all heard his heart give, but Henry-- and you should thank him for this-- kept going. He bit places we don’t normally need to. His throat. His face. All in an attempt to get enough of whatever it is we have into Abe so he’d come back to life and turn. And,” Alec flourishes his hands, “it worked. Abe’s heart started again.”
At this, Abe bolts up from his chair so quickly that it’s knocked back. “I’m right here,” he hisses at the both of us. “I’m right fucking here.” His flare comes so soon after the warm greeting and it throws me hard, this zero-to-raging in Abe, who has always been so level.
My adrenaline spikes, my body reacting on intuition to a large, aggressive werewolf in the room. Shame burns quickly after it because it isn’t just a large, aggressive werewolf. It’s Abe.
Alec growls at him, a clear warning. Ignoring him, I stand and move toward Abe. He’s scowling next to the fire. Abe is glowering, and the pain I feel is almost unbearable because he never glowered before I caused this to happen to him. The orange and red from the fire make the scarring look even puffier, more angry and raised.
With care, I lift a hand to his face. He leans into it, knowing I’m too short to get there easily. In that moment, of each of us giving a little to the other, we connect. His scarring is soft and ridged under my fingertips. Abe’s eyes squeeze shut while I trace them softly, like he wants to keep me out. Up close, the roughly healed tissue isn’t actually as bad as it seemed.
Underneath my hand’s exploration, I find him. The shape, the feel, the sheer electricity I feel being near him is all the same. His stubble is uneven, broken by the slashes Henry’s claws and teeth caused, but it’s still his stubble. “I’ve missed you,” I whisper, though Alec could hear anything I say, as close as he is sitting. “Did they tell you I’ve been calling?”
“And coming by. If they weren’t so irritated, I think the pack would be impressed with your doggedness.” Abe waits, leaning in. “Get it, Sadie? Doggedness?” Just like that, he’s himself again, the sulking evaporated from his features and voice. It’s disorienting how quickly he can move from mood to mood, and it sets me on edge.
It isn’t the scars, or the changed voice, or the sheer anger that Abe showed that breaks me. It’s his stupid joke. It cracks me open like a pecan, my tears bursting out as I throw my arms around his waist, burying my face with its hot tears into his t-shirt.
“That was a horrible joke,” I sob as he strokes my hair.
His breath is hot and sticky at my roots and I love it, wanting him to breathe me in like I’m breathing him in. He smells different now. It’s animal for sure, the scent of pelt and rain, musky and wild. Before, he smelled like a popular spicy men’s deodorant. This is better, though I can’t explain why. All I know is, in the heat of his embrace and with his scent surrounding me, there is a curling and neediness between my legs that begs for me to take our connection further.
The creak of leather and a few heavy stomps later, Alec is close enough that Abe pushes us apart. I don’t miss that he angles his body between Alec and I, as if guarding me. While I don’t know a ton about pack politics, I know this is a no-no. Alec’s flashing anger secures this knowledge. “Watch yourself, pup.”
“I’m no pup,” Abe snarls back. There’s a ripping sound and I see that the arm seams of his t-shirt popped. He’s trying to shift. Gallant as his move to be in front of me is, I’m more scared of Abe now than Alec. If he shifts while I’m this close, he won’t be the only one with a busted face.
“Stand down now. We don’t shift in the house. You know the rules.”
“You’re threatening my territory,” Abe shoots back. A tremor runs down his spine.
“You stupid piece of…” Alec shakes his head, but not before I see the golden yellow burst in his eyes.
My hand is shaking, because touching a wolf on the verge of shifting is a stupid idea. But I did dental surgery on a pup a few days from the full moon and survived, so I have to believe that Abe won’t hurt me now. Pressing a palm to his back, I begin to rub soothing circles. “I’m not in danger from Alec, Abe.”
“He’s a threat to you.”
“You know what I am, Abe. What I can do. I don’t need protection.” This is a half-truth, and I hope that half is enough to override the lie. Alec knows I’m a bone witch and knows I can, infused with sufficient enough power, annihilate this entire complex. That I don’t currently have the teeth and bone on me for such a feat is not relevant.
I hope.
It seems to do the trick, though, and Abe softens beneath my touch. My arms circle his waist again and this time I press a cheek to his back. The quick, fierce thumping of his heart is audible. He was ready to fight for me.
That’s like… caveman sexy. The rush of heat I was feeling earlier is stoked further. But Alec interrupted us once and, since we’re in his home, I probably shouldn’t jump Abe’s bones just yet. That seems rude, though certainly it holds appeal.
Alec’s nostrils flare and for a moment, I’m not sure my help has been enough. But Abe bows his head, ever so slightly. A sign of submission. It must work because Alec throws his hands in the air and turns to walk away, but he doesn’t yell at us anymore. “Abe, I need a moment with Sadie.”
The hackles are up again, and this time Alec doesn’t wait. He turns and he talks in this tone I feel in my bones. “Leave us.” A command, as heavy as it is frightening. His words are weighted with power and the tang of magic fills the air. Abe bristles, his muscles corded and his teeth bared, but he turns and goes, leaving me with a hulking and frustrated Alec.
As soon as the door shuts, I whirl on the alpha. “Three months? You couldn’t tell me what was happening for that long, and then you make me come over here with no warning? What’s wrong with you? I could have helped! You don’t need to protect your pack, or Abe, from me!” The words tumble out, cascading and jabbing. It felt good to release some of the pent up emotions from being in the dark about Abe for so long.
He holds his hands up, defensive. “Sadie--”
“Don’t ‘Sadie’ me, Mister. I’ve had enough of your shit.”
“Sadie,” he says again, and my lips clamp shut. “I wasn’t protecting him from you. I was protecting you from him.”
My mouth gapes, lips trying to form words that aren’t there. “Well, I just… I don’t know what to say about that.”
�
�Will you sit again?”
Following his lead, I do. Prepared for the cushiness this time, I allow the chair to cradle me, leaning a head heavy with exhaustion against the back. It was late, or early. Well past when I should have been sleeping, not learning of my Abe’s disfigurement and attitude problem from the most pigheaded and bossy man I knew.
“Abe’s transition has been hard. For all of us. It took almost a month for him to recover. A month, Sadie. Most wolves, when they turn, turn in hours. Rapid healing truly is one of the only blessings that comes from lycanthropy. There’s no precedent for someone like Abe. We… we considered putting him down on several occasions.” At least Alec has the decency to flush at this admission. I find myself glad I don’t have any teeth or bone on me, because for a blazing moment, I want to turn him to dust.
“Why?”
“Because we weren’t sure if he’d ever heal fully. Or be a werewolf. He missed the first shift, when the lycanthropy works best at mending the body and merging wolf-mind with man’s. And he was in pain, Sadie. I don’t want to worry you, but you need to understand. Imagine the wounds you saw, and the pain that would stem from them. Then imagine you had a were’s metabolism.”
Oh. Oh god. One of the difficulties I’d always had in treating weres when I was practicing was their metabolism. No drugs stayed in their system long enough to offer relief. Abe’s body had been completely brutalized by Henry who--I taste bile as I realize--was acting on my request.
Alec nods, even though I haven’t said anything. My whole body hurts for Abe, for what I’ve put him through. “You see? We were worried it wouldn’t stop for him, and no one deserves that. But then the pain went away and he began to heal. He just never healed fully. The scars are all over his body.
“The second month was just the normal initiation stuff. Teaching pack rules. Shifting. How to control the beast. All new wolves are brought in with the same care. Abe is a quick learner, but his viciousness has been an issue.”
“Abe’s never been vicious a day in his life,” I argue. Maybe I’m trying to fight this avalanche of this difficult knowledge, but imagining him in so much pain is hard. Trying to picture him as angry or antagonistic is almost impossible. Except that his moods flared, hot and cold, in so little time I cringe remembering it. If it takes so little to set him off, then a lot could make him...
“Hmph. I’m sure Henry warned you.”
“He said not to have expectations.”
“That was good advice - we’re at a standstill with Abe. Everyone does their part in the pack, but Abe’s not. He’s fighting against working here and working in general. I’ve encouraged him to return to his law enforcement duties. It would be a boon to the pack to have a member working in law. But he’s refusing.”
“How can he go back looking like that? How does he explain where he’s been? How can you treat that level of trauma like he fell off a damned bike and just needs to get back up again?”
“You’re very confrontational. How does so much fight fit into such a tiny body?”
I’m going to punch you in your werewolf mouth. Then I’ll refuse to fix your smile, you jackass. I move to Respect, picking the bat up and pointing it at Alec. “You haven’t seen fight yet.”
“Christ,” he mutters. “The two of you are made for each other. I don’t expect him to go back to work right away, but I think it would be good for him. He needs to do something. He’s been sitting around the place moping all day. You have to drag him to eat or talk. He’s miserable, Sadie, and I can’t take care of the pack if I’m constantly trying to take care of him.”
Respect sags and I rest the tip on the ground, leaning into the bat a bit. None of this sounds like Abe. Yet how can I be sure? I only knew him as a friend before his change. Well, there was the small chunk of time where we admitted how we felt about each other, but that was also when we were worried we might die. The truth is, I know an ideal of Abe, an idea I like very much, and everything that Alec is telling me clashes with that ideal.
Alec is a lot of things, but he’s no liar. “What do you need me to do?” Even if--and I hate even considering this-- Abe isn’t what I thought he was (gentle, funny, generous, loyal), he’s in pain because of me. I owe him support in the aftermath.
“Get him in shape. I know I sound cruel, and I’m sorry. But with all the attention you’ve brought Grimloch, I need to protect the pack. He either falls in line, or I’m going to have to kick him out.”
We don’t speak. Turning a new wolf out is a death sentence. Rogue wolves rarely survive, killed off by a territorial pack or picked off by a hunter. Besides, wolves crave contact. They need a group to feel strong and secure. “Okay. Let him hang out with me tomorrow night. Away from your pack’s compound.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“You asked me for help and now you’re refusing to let me?”
Alec drags a hand roughly through his hair. “He’s volatile, Sadie.”
“Like I told him. I can protect myself.”
His shudder is visible. Alec still struggles with my magic, and I can’t blame him. “Okay. He can go out with you tomorrow night, but he needs to be back here by midnight. And keep him away from humans, okay? You can protect yourself, but can you protect Grimloch if something goes wrong?”
“You’re giving a grown man a curfew?” I’m joking, but the weight of Alec’s worry is beginning to wear on me. Just how volatile has Abe been?
“Get him back here in time, Sadie.”
“Yes, Dad,” I shoot back, before grabbing my bat and going home.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Oh boy, lucky me,” Dr. Winston says dryly, rolling his eyes. “I get an overtired worker again. You’ve been so well rested and dependable these past few months, and I was beginning to feel spoiled. So thank you, Sadie, for coming in looking like shit smeared on toast, and reassuring an old man that things like work ethic no longer exist in this cold, miserable world.”
“I brought you donuts?”
“I’m on a diet.”
Laughing, I pull his favorite kind out of the box and put it in a napkin. “No you aren’t. Eat up.” Handing it to him, I then wheel over a chair and sit, munching my own donut. The first patient isn’t due in for another thirty minutes, giving me plenty of time to get his chair and table set up.
He glares as he takes a giant bite, but Tiffany’s Treats always win him over. Sometimes I wonder if she works some literal magic into the dough, because her baked goods are ungodly delicious. “And thanks for pointing out that I’m looking rough. You always know how to make a girl feel special.”
“You don’t need to feel special. You need some damn motivation. When are you going to apply to school, Sadie?”
“Maybe next year.” A lie, but it has been mollifying him more than when I give him excuses or just say that I’m not going to school.
“You’re so full of shit.”
“I can’t believe you’ve still got a functional practice with that sailor’s mouth, Doug.” Using his first name makes him cringe and I savor it along with another bite of my donut.
He grunts. “It’s better than the crap help I’ve got around here.”
We smile and I eat quickly, licking my fingers of the maple icing before going to wash my hands. “You’ve got a root canal first.”
“I hate starting with the root canals. Don’t I tell you to start with a cleaning? Let me warm up.”
“She needed to come in early, Doc. Deal with it. Besides, you’ve done a million root canals. You could do one in your sleep.”
“Are you volunteering? You’re dead on your feet, anyway. Come pass out in my chair and see what happens.”
“The two of you joke like an old married couple,” a woman’s voice pipes in. I look up and see a woman who is, I assume, our patient. Usually I know all the patients, since I’ve lived in Grimloch my whole life. But as Asheville keeps getting larger and more hip, the surrounding towns do, too. Grimloch’s growing, and that means strang
ers.
The woman is tall. She’s shaped like Ingrid, all curves and whittled waist. Her hair is long and so shiny it looks like a Photoshopped shampoo commercial. The dark brown flashes and almost glimmers and I’m ashamed to admit I desperately want to run my fingers through it. Just once, you know?
Doctor Winston is red and open-mouthed and I’m ninety nine percent sure it’s because our new patient is gorgeous. Her red lips are full. But, despite the alluring shade of her lips, I roll my inner eyes, because someone has to be super vain and ridiculous to wear lipstick to the dentist. Red tends to smear onto the skin and leave a noticeable and embarrassing tint after someone’s hands have been shoved inside the mouth.
“We are married,” I say. “I’ve known Dougie my whole life. Love comes in unexpected places, don’t you think?”
This catches Doctor Winston so off guard he splutters coffee out of his mouth and nose and down his clean, white coat. The patient and I both erupt in giggles while he scowls. “He’s like that in bed, too,” I add with a conspiring wink.
“Sadie, you’ve never been so close to being fired,” he warns. “Help the patient while I go find a clean scrub top.”
While he goes, I walk over and offer my hand. “Sadie Salt. You must be Melissa Black.” She takes my hand and her grip is cool and strong. I feel a zing at her touch, like when licking a nine volt battery. Gasping, I release her hand and grab mine, rubbing.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, looking beautiful and apologetic. “It’s so dry and cold outside. The static has been driving me crazy. My cats won’t let me touch them.”
“No worries, Ms. Black. Why don’t you come over to the desk? I have some forms for you to fill out…”
By the time Dr. Winston was changed, Ms. Black had filled out her paperwork and sat easily into the chair. No fear of dentists in this one, for sure. Her long, black eyelashes flutter shut and she opens her mouth with a sigh. No one looks good in a dentist’s chair, yet she manages to look lovely and serene. Dr. Winston, now in his element, seems to have forgiven me. He even lets me help.
