by Ian Thomas
“Could I…I mean…is there a…I’d like to wash.” Somerset said.
“That all?” she asked, backing into her room. “I’ll let you do more.”
Somerset didn’t reply, though a hungry smile broke across his face, the hint of his wolf fangs evident. He walked past her into the room, a swagger in his step, Henry forgotten.
“Okay so for starters,” the girl gushed, looking back at Henry. “Thanks. Like a million. I figured you'd be super pissed is all. Like hell hath no scorn type rage.”
“Me? Why?”
“Your wolf bomb? Didn’t go bang last night.”
As Henry’s face froze, Somerset stood behind the young woman, draping an arm over her and cupping a breast. He smiled at Henry then kicked the door shut.
IV
The déjà-vu didn’t make the morning any easier, Hayley thought.
Standing on the landing, the distance allowed her to look at the scene, those on the stage, those in the wings, and not feel like she was connected to any of this.
“You okay?” McLachlan asked her, looking up as he and Matteo crossed the floor heading for the basement door.
“Getting there,” she replied, finding just enough words for him to continue off stage.
Once they had managed to get out of Mouth’s room, they’d headed to Matteo’s. The building would always be a haven when the supernatural crept too close. An understatement, Hayley needed the detachment just that much longer.
As yet she hadn’t seen Jason. He’d been locked away in a cage in Matteo’s basement. Words she never thought she’d put into a sentence. Thankfully she hadn’t yet had to say them aloud, but she knew that time was fast approaching.
Descending to the main floor, she wasn’t sure where to turn. Who would she comfort first. Mouth in the kitchen? Mills in the dining room? Or the wolf in the living room? Was his name Max, she wondered, not wanting to blunder that one.
The doorbell had barely stopped echoing through the house before the hammering started. The decision made for her Hayley opened the door, dreading what waited on the other side.
“Hey,” she said, dread giving way to profound relief. Rebecca grabbed her and held her, the embrace threatening to overwhelm her carefully crafted exterior.
“Hey? Really hey? That all I get?” Rebecca prattled. God, it was good to see her. “I was worried sick.”
“We’re good. I got to do the whole rescue thing. You’d be so proud.”
“You know I didn’t actually mean for you to go, right?”
“Like I was gonna leave Mouth dealing with…” She broke off. She hadn’t said the W word in hours. As adrenaline ebbed and the night crawled on, Hayley had struggled with the reality of the events. Reality! Ha, she’d thought. “Like I was gonna leave Mouth. Good thing too, your boyfriend was a no show.”
“I know, fake memory thing again.”
“And…well, there was Michael.”
“Is he really…”
Hayley couldn’t say the word. Not the word as such, but the confirmation. The scene crashed into her memory. Loud door knocks. Her and Mouth opening to see two vampires holding Michael’s body.
“Take him,” one of the men urged.
“Bring him in.”
“We can’t. Not invited.”
“Matteo!” Hayley yelled.
“You have to take him,” the other vampire pressed, shoving the corpse at them.
“Matteo!” Hayley shouted, as Mouth struggled to take the body from them. When he staggered, the black vampire stepped into the house to assist but the breach cost him. Blood started seeping from his eyes, his face crumpled as it aged suddenly.
“Rufus!” the other vampire cried, pulling him back. As Michael’s body started to fall, Hayley lunged for it, desperate to grab hold before it hit the ground.
“You got it,” Rufus breathed, outside once more.
“Michael?” Matteo asked, behind them, his voice small.
“We found him,” the other vampire said. “We’re…sorry.”
“Wait.” But they were gone. Silently, Matteo had taken the body from them, turned and walked back to the basement door.
“You okay?” Rebecca asked, cutting through.
“Are any of us?”
“I’m asking you.”
“Rebecca?” a voice asked from the dining room.
“Mills?!” she replied, startled as they moved to him.
“Yeah, he had a pretty rough night too,” Hayley said. “I’ll tell Mouth you’re here.”
“What happened?” Rebecca asked, looking after Hayley as she left them.
_ _ _
As Mills started telling Rebecca about his night, Hayley was unsettled to find the kitchen empty. Which meant Mouth had gone to the one place she’d been avoiding. Leaving the kitchen she walked to the basement door. She hadn’t wanted to venture there the whole night. Dark things were down there. Dead things. Nothing good came from where dead things were and she sure as shit hadn’t wanted to go there.
Apparently, she wasn’t getting a choice.
Descending the steps, she found herself in a large room with weights and other gym equipment. Matteo worked out? Given the other revelations of the past few hours, this was by far the most human. Albeit a little unexpected. Behind a partition she glanced a fully stocked wine cellar. Why hadn’t she known about that five hours ago?
Two rooms led off the weight room to her left. A single door to her right.
“You think this was Ben?”
“N-no, probably not,” Mouth was stammering. “Just I think they were seeing each other.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” Matteo demanded. Everything he’d pushed down, avoided, drunk, or whored his way clear of threatened to spill out. She heard it in his voice, fissures of pain cracking as he tried to hold himself together.
“With that tone do you blame him?” Hayley asked, pushing open the single door. There was a long table in the room, high backed chairs lining it. “Uh,” she paused at the door, “you have a board room? In your basement? How very Doctor Evil.”
“Hey,” McLachlan said gently, seeing her and starting to rise.
“Well it’s not like you were…around,” Mouth threw back indignantly.
Hayley saw McLachlan wince at the comment. Trust Mouth to say the one thing all of them had been thinking but wouldn’t dream of saying to an irate 500-hundred-year old wolfman. Did he need to hear it? Probably. From a twenty-year-old loud mouth who was almost killed by his freshly-minted werewolf roommate? Definitely not.
“How is he?” Hayley asked, easing the tension and looking around the room.
“Sleeping,” Matteo replied, gesturing for her to enter. She hadn’t seen him in a few hours. May as well have been a few years. He may have been a wolf, but right now he looked ready to rabbit. Run. Hide. Wait for this to pass and hope no one caught his scent. His fear.
To her right, the wall was inset with iron bars.
“In an actual cage,” she observed. Huddled in the middle of the barred cell lay Jason, naked and still.
“It’s a safety measure,” Matteo explained, apparently thinking his words would normalize the presence of a cage in his basement. “If we have a wolf problem or threat we can put them here and it’s safe for everyone.”
“For the moment,” Mouth said.
“Perhaps you should go,” Matteo said. Despite everything he was still handling people with care. Not for fear of them breaking, but because he genuinely cared. Jason and Michael may have been the headlines, but Matteo saw the ripples and fractures in others. A sensitivity he’d all but abandoned when it came to himself.
“He’s my friend.”
“And now he’s under my care. As a friend and his Pack Lord,” Matteo replied, his tone warning the young man against further disrespect.
“It’s cool,” McLachlan said, playing good cop. “I’ll come and get you when he wakes.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he’ll need y
ou then.”
But Mouth didn’t move. He looked at his sleeping friend for a long time. Were they all just going to blame themselves for this? Each vying for most culpable. But there wasn’t a medal for lapsed judgement or blind spots. Only pain. Mouth should know that. She’d watched him struggle with Jason’s distance then absence. Of all the possibilities, this certainly fell into the category of least expected. And now they needed to find a way forward.
“Fine, sure, whatever,” Mouth said, finally heading out of the room.
After a long tense silence. “That–”
“Could’ve gone better?” Matteo turned to McLachlan, cutting him off. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“This isn’t exactly uncharted territory,” McLachlan replied, temper flaring.
“Oh no? Which part’s familiar? A freshly sired werewolf when the peace accords forbid it? Or that it’s Jason? A kid we both know and like.”
“Maybe don’t call him a kid,” Hayley said quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re saying that a lot lately,” she remarked, studying him. McLachlan was wrong. This was ‘unchartered territory’. Maybe not in the sense of a new wolf, but Matteo was right. Given the context of the accords and who Jason was, Matteo was measuring each step, each word, and each action. Painfully aware of his own shortcomings while understanding the bigger picture. Would it be enough?
“This isn’t his fault,” McLachlan said in his defense. “This wasn’t Ben.”
“No, it was Colton. Much the same really.”
“Then it’s my fault,” McLachlan replied. “I was the one who killed him. Apparently not that well it turns out.”
“As much as I love a good party,” Hayley said. Their blame-claiming was self-serving and painful to hear. Making this about them, however well-intentioned, wasn’t going to change anything. “Even pity parties, maybe focus on Jason for now.” She stood at the bars looking at him as he slumbered. Around the walls were gouges in the brick, scratches in the metal, signs of anger and rage at confinement. “If he’s human again, why is he still locked up?”
“Precaution,” Matteo said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “He’ll turn again tonight. And tomorrow. Safer to keep him in there than to try to get him back in the box.”
“Then maybe a pillow or a blanket? That’s a concrete floor, just so you know.”
“Right, yes, of course,” Matteo said embarrassed.
“I’ll go,” McLachlan said as his friend moved to the door.
“No, I’ll go,” Hayley said firmly. “Given the night we’ve all had, I’m the least likely to get stopped up there. Then he might actually get a pillow or something.”
With a parting glance at her sleeping friend, she left them. At the foot of the stairs, she glanced at the two closed doors on the other side of the room.
Michael’s body was behind one of them.
_ _ _
About to head upstairs, Hayley’s phone vibrated in her back pocket. She closed her eyes dreading the message. With all of her close friends under this roof, it could only be one person.
Sadly, not Eddie.
Since his fallout with Matteo he had gone quiet. Complete radio silence. With nothing formalized between them, Hayley left her concern at one as-yet-unreciprocated message. He should know she’d be worried and open to him.
This would be Rowan, she thought, slipping the phone out of her pocket. Her heart sank when she saw the screen.
Rowan // 7:21
What the hell is going on there?
I’ve been calling and texting everyone
but nothing! Getting some horrible vibes.
Please talk to me!
Why was this falling to her? And text message was not the way to tell Rowan about Michael’s death. Hayley loved Rowan, she just didn’t want to be the person who told her that. Sure it was selfish, but messengers were often shot.
Hayley // 7:26
Shit’s kinda intense. Jason’s a werewolf.
His first full moon last night.
Everyone’s in panic mode.
How’s Dylan?
Feeling terrible, Hayley hit send. Assured she already had a prime seat lined up in hell, this was only going to get her closer to the barbecue pit. Of course with her best friend dating a former demonic vessel, maybe making jokes like that wasn’t in the best taste.
“Where’s McLachlan?” Rebecca asked, then saw Hayley’s expression. “Wait. What’s wrong?”
“I’m a horrible person.”
“You’re not a horrible person.”
“I just told Rowan about Jason so I didn’t have to tell her Michael’s dead.”
“Okay so I’m gonna revise my previous statement.”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Possibly not that,” Rebecca said. “But then it’s not your place to tell her.”
“Then whose is it?” Hayley asked, looking at the basement door.
“Well, it sure as shit can’t be them.”
“You get your boyfriend is one of ‘them’?”
“Not forgetting that in a hurry.”
The phone buzzed.
Rowan calling…
“We’ll do it together,” Rebecca said, pulling Hayley into the living room where Max sat staring at the wall, Ash asleep in his lap. With that room occupied, they ended up in Matteo’s study, Rebecca shutting the doors as Hayley answered the call.
“What the actual fuck?!” Rowan demanded.
“Yeah, not good, hey so, um, can you talk?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“I mean really talk,” Hayley said, her voice low. “Like are there people around you?”
“Just Dylan and his overprotective goon of a friend.”
“I heard that,” a British voice called out.
“You were supposed to,” Hayley heard Dylan say. She smiled. She’d heard so little from him since the attack, and his voice punctured the darkness and death with a small moment of light. And amid it all, she smiled.
“Maybe get rid of the goon,” Hayley said.
“What is it? You’re scaring me.”
“Freddie,” Dylan said firmly. “Get out.”
“But–”
“Fuck off, Freddie,” Dylan declared.
Tears hung in Hayley’s eyes.
“Hayley?” Rowan asked, her voice small.
“Yeah, hi. It’s–” Rebecca leaned close, arm around her friend. “It’s Michael. I’m s-so sorry b-but he’s–”
“No.”
“Yeah,” Hayley choked, the tears starting to fall. Silence on the other end of the phone.
“Hayley?” Dylan asked and she could breathe again. “Are you okay? What’s going on? Are you alright?”
“Hey, yeah I’m – here,” she replied. “Just, um, Michael’s dead and–”
“Are you alright?” he pressed, his voice firm.
“Yes,” she said, but his concern was pushing her over the edge. Thrusting the phone at Rebecca, she strode out of the room.
“Hey, it’s Bex…Rowan. I-is Rowan there?”
Seeing Max’s empty, staring eyes, Hayley turned to the French doors leading into the garden.
_ _ _
The dawn had yet to erase night from the foliage. Would this gloom ever lift? Threatening to overwhelm her as it had in the past, the black dog of depression was a wolf now. Age had eased the rougher edges, making episodes more manageable. But this…
When one of the shadows moved, Hayley dried her eyes and peered closer.
Moments passed before it moved again, then she saw a familiar face.
Eddie.
Fumbling with the latches, Hayley forced the door open and hurried onto the patio and down into the garden.
“Hayley?” he called, moving to her.
The tears were sobs before his arms encircled her.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong? Hey, talk to me,” he was saying, trying to meet her eyes.
“Can I not?” she asked, wanting to hold him a little longer. Which she did, his hand stroking her hair as they stood in the cold, quiet garden. “Where’d you go?”
“Just working out my daddy issues,” he said, pulling back from her self-consciously.
“Find a good stripper pole did you?” she asked, an unwelcome edge in her voice.
“You get I don’t actually have daddy issues, right?”
“Then what was with your bullshit disappearing act? Figured I rated a call at least. A text. Shit, I would have taken a post-it.”
“I had stuff to deal with.” They were apart now, a familiar distance opening between them.
“We all have stuff to deal with,” she said finally, feeling a series of ‘life-is-too-short’ clichés running through her head given the previous evening’s trauma. Breathing deep, she leveled her gaze at him. “But that ends today. Right now. I’m staking a claim.”
“A claim? On what?”
“On you,” she replied. “We’ve been dancing around this for a while now and honestly we’ll just keep stepping on each other’s toes unless someone takes the lead.”
“And that’s you?” he asked, his tone warm. “Because I’m okay with that.”
“A hundred or so fucking years old and I’m the adult here,” she replied.
“What brought this on?”
He doesn’t know.
The thought struck her like a slap. Was she going to have be the bearer of bad news for everyone? Messengers were shot for less.
But he was here, she thought. Right here. Now. Despite enough fanged, furred, and unholy evidence to the contrary, she was skeptical of coincidence. Yet he seemed...even. Untouched by what was in the house. In a way ignorant. Safe. Knowing the answers to her questions, she asked them anyway.
“So you’re not here because of Jason? Or...Michael?” To her mind this was the softest opening she could think of before upending his world.
“What’s happened?!”
She knew she had to tell him, she just didn’t want to. Duty and desire were waging war but ultimately she knew what would win.
In the cold, quiet garden, Hayley told him.
He buckled, stricken. When Eddie dropped, she grabbed at him. More than she could hold, Hayley barely managed to settle him on his knees. Staring at her in disbelief, she stroked his face returning the gesture.
