Lonely Werewolf Girl

by Martin Millar

  Clinging on to the small window ledge, apparently trying to attract her attention, was a werewolf.

  “Gawain? What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk.”

  “You need to talk?” The Enchantress was mystified and considered closing the window again. But when she looked into Gawain’s werewolf eyes she could see that they had recently been wet with tears. She stepped back to let him in. Gawain stood awkwardly in the room. Thrix regarded him without sympathy.

  “This had better be good, Gawain.”

  The Enchantress was angered to have been wakened in this way, angered by Gawain’s effrontery in appearing outside her window. Her limbs were still sore from the unfortunate experience at Zatek’s and this annoyed her more.

  “What’s so important that you’re climbing the outside of my building? Did you damage anything out there?”

  Gawain looked utterly hopeless.

  “Kalix,” he said, eventually.

  “Is she dead?”

  Gawain shook his head. He seemed unwilling to say more. Thrix’s patience was wearing very thin. She had no great liking for Gawain.

  “Tell me the problem or get out.”

  “I saw her kissing someone,” said Gawain.

  Thrix was tempted to laugh. ‘So much for the grand passion,’ she thought. ‘Perhaps Gawain will now realise that Kalix is not a suitable werewolf to fall in love with.’

  “Gawain, you never did have a true understanding of Kalix.”

  Gawain sat down very heavily. Such was his obvious misery that even the Enchantress, who had little sympathy to spare, could not quite bring herself to throw him out. She transformed back into her human shape, crossed to her cabinet and brought out her whisky.

  “The MacRinnalchs generally find this helpful for all problems,” she said, dryly, and poured two glasses.

  118

  Sarapen thought for a long time about his encounter with Dominil. It had raised some disturbing emotions. Even though Sarapen had focused his will on the Thaneship, to the exclusion of all else, images of the white-haired werewolf kept interrupting his thoughts. He’d been surprised at the strength of feeling he still had for Dominil. When he saw the hunters heading into the studio, Sarapen had abandoned all thoughts of Kalix and the Thaneship and rushed to save her.

  He hated Dominil. Unfortunately, his passion for her had never abated. He remembered their closeness in the car as they left the studio, and how near their faces had come as they faced each other in the street. Had he not turned to go at that moment, Sarapen might have tried to put his arms round her.

  “And how the bitch would’ve laughed at that,” he muttered, furious with himself. To feel such emotions for the werewolf who had nominated his cursed brother for the Thaneship. It was beyond belief. Sarapen kept his thoughts to himself. His chief councillor Mirasen was dead. Even if Mirasen had still been here, he probably wouldn’t have spoken to him. Sarapen wasn’t in the habit of discussing his emotions.

  Decembrius was on his way back to Scotland to be nursed by his mother, which was unfortunate. Sarapen could have made use of his superior talent for finding things. Sarapen’s werewolves couldn’t find Markus, though Sarapen couldn’t understand why Markus would be hiding. Having worked up the courage to attack Sarapen’s house, why would he now go missing? It made no sense. Sarapen cursed his werewolf guard and instructed them to keep hunting till they found him. As for Kalix, Sarapen still intended to kill her. She deserved to die, and her death would bring him the Thaneship.

  Dominil floated back into his mind. What was she doing with those degenerate twins? They were not worthy of her company. Dominil had been magnificent in the battle. Her savagery had been a credit to the fighting MacRinnalchs. Sarapen shook his head and tried not to think about her.

  Dominil was not thinking about Sarapen. She was busy booking a new rehearsal studio and still trying to find a venue for the sisters to play. The encounter with the Avenaris Guild had been an inconvenience but it had not altered her schedule. She’d once again infiltrated their computers and she was satisfied that the Guild had no real information about either the twins or herself. It was just chance that someone at the rehearsal studio had recognised them as werewolves.

  If Dominil did think of Sarapen at all, it was only to acknowledge briefly that he was a fine warrior; a good werewolf to have on your side in a battle. That could also be said of Kalix. After observing the savagery with which the werewolf Kalix fought, Dominil had been surprised to see how skinny she was when she changed back to human. She didn’t look capable of inflicting violence on anyone. She had done so however, most effectively.

  Dominil didn’t know why Kalix had left the twins’ house without saying goodbye. Perhaps she’d been bored. Or perhaps it was just her way; Kalix was known to be irrational. It was no concern of Dominil’s. As she’d told Verasa, she didn’t intend to play nursemaid to another young werewolf. It was bad enough looking after Butix and Delix. They’d got hopelessly drunk after coming back from the fight at the studio. Not that their fighting had been very effective, unable to transform as they were. Still, even in their human form they were stronger than most men, and to their credit they hadn’t shirked the battle.

  Though Dominil didn’t like the sisters’ music, she thought she understood their motivation. Beauty and Delicious shared the vocals, because each of them had too large an ego to allow her sister to be sole frontwoman. Though they enjoyed posing with their guitars, for the last few songs of their set they abandoned their instruments, preferring just to sing, or shout, at the audience. Dominil didn’t think this was unreasonable. It was probably necessary to have a large ego to front a band. In her practical way, Dominil had been assisting the group with their sampling software, to fill in the sound when the sisters put down their guitars.

  Dominil left the house in the early morning, determined to find a place for the twins to play. First, however, she had to pay a visit to East London, to the premises of the Young MacDoig. Her supply of laudanum had nearly run out and she needed more. Laudanum was Dominil’s secret vice. No one knew of it, not even Verasa.

  119

  Ann arrived at work early. She took the lift to the fourth floor and used her key to open up the offices. She collected the day’s post, sorted it into various bundles, then took Thrix’s mail to her office so that it would be there for her when she arrived.

  Ann opened Thrix’s door, switched on the light, and came to an abrupt halt. Her employer was lying on the couch. A young man, whom Ann recognised but couldn’t name, was lying beside her. They appeared to be naked, and the coat they were using as a blanket wasn’t covering much. Thrix immediately woke up. She opened her eyes to find her personal assistant smiling broadly at her.

  “Coffee?” said Ann.

  “Oh God,” said Thrix, and looked appalled.

  The young man opened his eyes.

  “I’ll just leave you two alone for a while,” said Ann. “You have a meeting in thirty minutes, do you want me to reschedule?”

  “No!” said Thrix, loudly. “Bring coffee.”

  “We could reschedule,” said Ann brightly.

  “Just get the hell out of my office and bring me coffee,” snarled Thrix, who had already had quite enough of her assistant’s amused gaze.

  “Good morning,” said Gawain, awkwardly, after Ann left. The Enchantress regarded him with great displeasure.

  “I have a meeting. Get dressed.”

  Thrix leapt from the couch and hurried to put her clothes on. She looked in the large mirror and was horrified at the mess she was in. Normally she turned up to work immaculately attired. Now she looked like… she looked like a woman who had started the evening by being thrown across the road by a spell and finished it by having sex on the couch. It was a poor way to prepare for meeting an important client.

  Gawain was hanging around looking awkward.

  “You should go,” said Thrix.

  “All right,” said Gawain.

>   “And don’t mention this to anyone,” said Thrix.

  “I won’t.”

  Gawain departed. Thrix took her make-up bag to the small bathroom adjoining her office and hurried to do her face. As she put on a covering of foundation - a little thicker than normal - she smelled the aroma of Jasmine, and suddenly Malveria was standing beside her.

  “Bravo!” cried the Fire Queen, with some enthusiasm. “You have had sex!”

  The Enchantress was pained.

  “Do I have no privacy at all? Were you watching?”

  “Of course not. As soon you were removing your lingerie, I politely left, almost immediately. I had come to discuss various matters, but finding you in the strong and passionate embraces of Gawain the handsome young werewolf I naturally did not wish to disturb you. He’s certainly a most attractive young wolf and I can quite understand why your sister Kalix is in love with him. Do you think it might be a problem that your sister Kalix is in love with him?”

  The Enchantress interrupted her eye-liner application to cast a hostile glance at Malveria.

  “What do you think? Of course it might be a problem. A big problem, if she ever got to hear about it, which she won’t.”

  “I of course would never breathe a word,” said Malveria. “Though it’s a shame to keep this a secret because as all the world knows, you have been very short of sex recently. Will he come and visit you again?”

  “Absolutely not,” stated Thrix.

  “Why not? Was it not satisfactory?”

  “What sort of question is that?”

  “The sort of question which means it is time for you tell me every detail of the sexual encounter,” replied Malveria, meanwhile borrowing Thrix’s mascara to make a few minor repairs.

  “No details.”

  “Not even one? This is very poor spirited, Enchantress. Did you have sex on your desk?”

  “No.”

  “On the floor?”

  Thrix halted her make-up application.

  “Malveria, I’m not going to tell you any details. I’m trying to forget the details. It was a disastrous mistake to sleep with Gawain and I’m now about to suppress the memory.”

  Malveria couldn’t understand Thrix’s attitude. She’d just slept with a handsome and healthy young werewolf. She should be happy.

  “If you are not pleased, why did you do it?”

  “I don’t know. He just came here to talk and things got out of hand.”

  Malveria sniffed the air.

  “Much alcohol was involved I suppose? Yes, it’s a powerful aphrodisiac, in my realm too. But I am not satisfied. You are not a woman who will lose control of yourself, so why have sex with him? Do you seek to control him?”

  “No.”

  “Do you wish to break your sister’s heart and trample on her dreams?”

  “No!”

  “Then why?”

  Thrix was frustrated at the Fire Queen’s refusal to drop the subject.

  “I slept with him because I drank too much whisky, he’s very good looking, he has an excellent body, and I haven’t had sex for a long time. Will that do?” she said, marching out of the rest room.

  She found herself confronted by Ann, a tray of coffee in her hands.

  “It seems reasonable enough,” said Ann. “I’ve slept with men for far less than that.”

  Thrix scowled at Ann and grabbed a mug of coffee.

  “Are you all right?” asked Ann.

  “She is fine!” said Malveria, appearing from the bathroom. “May I have some coffee? Thank you. Is this not very entertaining, Ann, esteemed personal assistant to my friend Thrix? That the Enchantress should sleep with the werewolf who is so entangled with her sister Kalix, is so full of ramifications that one can hardly imagine what it may lead to.”

  “It won’t lead to anything,” retorted Thrix. “Because no one is going to know. You’re not to tell anyone.

  “But Thrix my dear,” protested. Malveria. “You are being unreasonable. I’m a Hiyasta. We are not famed for our discretion.”

  “Not a word, Malveria, or I swear I’ll never design another frock for you.”

  The Fire Queen pouted, looking, as she did so, exactly like a model in a magazine.

  “Really Enchantress, you are so cold. What happened to the famous werewolf passion? This is something to be talked about yet you are swearing me to secrecy and not only this, you refuse to tell me any details. And did I not entertain you with the tale of my sexual encounter with three frost spirits only last month?”

  The Fire Queen smiled at the memory.

  “It will be a while before they can cool down enough to make frost again!”

  Malveria laughed heartily at her own joke.

  “Three at once?” said Ann.

  “Yes. You have never done this?”

  “Enough!” roared Thrix. “No more talk about sex. I’ve a meeting to attend. Ann, get me my papers. And don’t gossip about this round the office.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Ann.

  120

  Moonglow was troubled by Kalix kissing Daniel. Or Daniel kissing Kalix, depending on how you looked at it. Her natural inclination was to blame Daniel, as he was older, but perhaps that wasn’t fair. Kalix had demonstrated her forceful personality before.

  After the kiss the atmosphere in the house was slightly strained. Daniel was embarrassed and Kalix stayed in her room, assuming that Moonglow was annoyed with her. ‘Probably she’s drinking laudanum, ’ thought Moonglow, which was another problem. Moonglow wondered if she should talk to Kalix about it, but it was so difficult raising anything with the young werewolf. The merest hint of criticism made her retreat into an angry silence. Perhaps she should just let Kalix get on with her life. Take as much laudanum as she wanted, cut herself, and never eat. Moonglow wasn’t comfortable with that. Kalix would surely come to harm if she carried on like this.

  Jay had noticed that Moonglow was pre-occupied. It was harming their relationship, just to add to her problems. It was a relief to arrive in college. The cuneiform script was baffling enough to drive everything else from her mind. Daniel wasn’t in college till the afternoon so Moonglow ate lunch on her own in the canteen, sitting at a table with a book propped in front of her. She was engrossed with her reading and didn’t notice when someone sat down at her table.

  “You study even when you’re eating?”

  Moonglow looked up abruptly, recognising the Scottish accent. It was Markus.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to thank you,” said Markus, in his soft voice.

  Markus was now clean, well dressed, his wounds healed. His chestnut hair hung over his brow, soft and thick. There were slight shadows under his eyes but otherwise he looked almost as good as he had before, apart from the sadness of his expression. They looked in silence at each other for a little while.

  “My girlfriend was killed,” said Markus, suddenly.

  Moonglow didn’t know how to reply.

  “You know of our family problems?” said Markus.

  Moonglow nodded.

  “She got caught in the middle. I think we would have been married one day.”

  Markus tried to say more, but the words died on his lips. A tear formed in the corner of one eye. Moonglow was overwhelmed with compassion. She stretched out her hand and put it over Markus’s hand to comfort him. Markus looked hopeless, and hung his head.

  “Are you in danger?” asked Moonglow.

  “My friends moved me to a safe house. But I can’t bear to go back there. All I do is sit and think of Talixia.”

  People at nearby tables were watching but Moonglow didn’t notice them. She didn’t notice anything except Markus.

  “Should I take you there?” she asked.

  Markus didn’t reply. He just sat there looking miserable. Moonglow rose, took Markus by the hand, and led him from the canteen. Alicia, entering at that moment, had only the briefest of glimpses of Moonglow as she left, but even so she
couldn’t help noticing that her friend was leaving the cafeteria hand in hand with one of the most beautiful men she’d ever seen.

  “Lucky Moonglow,” she said to her companions. “Do you think Jay knows about this?”

  Outside the college Moonglow waved down a taxi and told the driver to take them south, away from the centre of the city, to Markus’s safe house.

  121

  Kalix wrote in her journal. She was making a list of all the reasons she was unhappy. She still felt upset about her visit to the twins. It seemed to Kalix that they had deliberately excluded her from their conversation. This sort of small incident was just the sort of thing to have a ruinous effect on Kalix’s fragile confidence.

  Gawain is never coming back, she wrote, in her laborious handwriting, still struggling over every word. And Sarapen will kill me. It was another painful reminder of how badly Kalix had messed everything up. Her lover was gone, her brothers wanted to kill her and her cousins wouldn’t talk to her. She wrote again. Moonglow hates me because I kissed Daniel. Any moment Kalix was expecting Moonglow to tell her to leave. When that happened, Kalix would go. It wasn’t comfortable to stay here anyway. Even Daniel was acting strangely since they’d kissed.

  Kalix took her knife and made a small cut on the inside of her thigh, and watched it bleed. It made her feel a little better. She drank some laudanum and crawled into her bed, covering her head with her quilt. The laudanum lulled her to sleep but she slept uneasily, with bad dreams of her childhood. Her father was chasing her through the castle and she couldn’t get away. No matter how fast she ran he was always getting closer. She fled round a corner and the way was blocked, though there should have been a door. Kalix moaned in her sleep. This was a recurrent dream, where she was being pursued through the corridors of Castle MacRinnalch and suddenly the familiar passageways would change and she’d find herself trapped. She woke, dripping with sweat, and looked round the room fearfully, thinking that the Thane was there.