by Naomi Clark
SILVER KISS
an urban wolf novel
by
NAOMI CLARK
QUEEREDFICTION PRESS
Gillitts, Durban
Republic of South Africa.
www.queeredfiction.com
QUEEREDFICTION PRESS
First published by QueeredFiction in 2010
Copyright © 2010 by Naomi Clark
The moral right of the author has been asserted. Any characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted—in any form or by any means—without the prior permission, in writing, of the publisher. Nor may it be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.
SILVER KISS
1st Electronic Edition
ISBN 978-1-920441-12-8 (Paperback)
ISBN 978-1-920441-13-5 (Electronic Book)
Smashwords Edition License
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should visit an eBook vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
About the Author
A former army brat, Naomi Clark is now happily settled in Cambridge, living in a converted cowshed with a tank full of catfish. She has been writing stories ever since she learned to write. A lifelong fascination with dragons, monsters, magic and ghosts eventually lead her to urban fantasy. Her short fiction has appeared in a variety of ezines and she also writes a monthly horoscope column for a local magazine.
Find out more at www.naomiclark.net.
Urban Wolf Series
Wolf Strap 0.5*
*Published in the Queer Wolf anthology
Visit www.queeredfiction.com for more of our titles
Dedication
This one is for my mum, just because.
Acknowledgements
There are always a lot more people involved in producing a novel than just the writer. I’d like to thank James for not only being a brilliant editor, but for his encouragement and support in the first place. I’d like to thank everyone at Different Star, who assured me this book wasn’t a horrific mess. I should also thank Skelly, who helped come up with one of the key premises of the book. And finally, I’d like to thank everyone who enjoyed Wolf Strap and took the time to say so. Without you, this novel would never have been written.
ONE
“I wish you were coming with me tonight.” I tried not to sound whiny as I said it, but couldn’t quite manage. I glanced at Shannon over my shoulder while I fiddled with my earrings. She was sitting on the bed, laptop open. Her lips were pulled into the tight line that meant she was concentrating hard and she didn’t look up at me as she answered.
“No offence, Ayla, but I’m glad I’m not allowed,” she replied absently. “The whole thing just sounds...wolfish.”
I grimaced as I threaded the gleaming golden hoops through my ears. “It is wolfish. That’s the point.” And that was the problem. Lupercali was the biggest night in the werewolf calendar and humans were not allowed. No exceptions. Not even for partners. It was a tradition dating back to Roman times and whilst we wolves prided ourselves on fitting into modern society most of the time, Lupercali was different. Sacred.
I was dreading it.
I still couldn’t believe I’d moved back home at all, let alone agreed to be officially sworn back into the Pack. When I’d first walked away eight years ago, I’d vowed never to return. But never is a long time and people—even parents—can change. After the brutal murder of my cousin by anti-werewolf group Alpha Humans, I’d rethought my position on Pack and family. Luckily for me, Shannon agreed to move down south with me—not that I’d have come without her—and here we were.
In the three months that we’d been here, all my parents had talked about was Lupercali, how I’d be officially welcomed back into the Pack after so long as a lone wolf. Traditionally Lupercali was a ceremony for the cubs, the night that they became adults in wolf lore. But it was also a ceremony for welcoming home strays like me, blooding and reaffirming us as part of the family.
And it wasn’t that I didn’t want that. It was just that… Well, I was a little bit scared. “It’s going to be awful,” I said, aware of that whining edge to my voice again and cringing internally at it. My wolf pawed at the insides of my mind, mentally echoing my whine. “The whole Pack will be there, watching me.”
Shannon looked up now, locks of sandy hair falling from her loose ponytail to curl around her delicate face. “You’ll be fine,” she assured me. “From what you’ve said, it’ll all be over in a few minutes and then you can just get rip-roaring drunk.”
I stared down at the tangle of necklaces and earrings on the vanity. Most of it was Shannon’s. She’d told me I needed to dress up tonight. Make the right impression. I glanced back at the mirror, wondering if Shannon’s elegant gold jewelry really looked right with my lip piercing.
“I’m nervous,” I confessed, pulling at the lip ring. “I mean Lupercali is so formal. I don’t see why I have to do this massive ceremony just because I moved back home. It’s not like I ever officially left the Pack in the first place. I was never made outcast or anything.”
“It’ll make your parents happy.” Shannon was staring at her laptop screen again. I wasn’t sure if she’d even heard me. I cleared my throat pointedly and her head jerked up, eyes wide with surprise. “Sorry,” she sighed, setting the laptop aside and rising from the bed. She stood behind me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, kissing my hair. “You’re going to be fine. Like I said, it’ll be all over before you know it and then you can just enjoy the party. And Vince and Joel will be there to support you.”
I thought of Vince, my best friend, who’d determinedly kept me in his life despite the distance I’d put between myself and the city, the Pack and my family. I’d missed him. If only for having him back in my life, returning had been worth it.
“I suppose.” I tipped my head back far enough for us to kiss, just a quick sweep of my lips against hers, but it was enough to warm me up a little. “And you’ll be okay here alone?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve got plenty to be getting on with.” She nodded to the laptop. “Got a meeting with my first client tomorrow.”
I smiled, that warm feeling growing. It had been a big step for Shannon to move here with me. She’d left behind a well-established PI business and starting afresh hadn’t been easy. She had a good reputation but no local contacts. Before the move she’d had friends on the police force and in local politics that were happy to slip her information about abusive spouses and tax cheats on the sly. Now she had to build all those relationships up all over again. She hadn’t complained, but I knew she’d been anxious.
“I love you,” I said, twisting on the stool so I could kiss her properly.
“I love you too,” she said. “Now get moving. You’ll be late.”
For the first few weeks that we’d been back here, Shannon and I had stayed in Vince and Joel’s guest room. Joel, an architect, had one of the bigger houses in Larkspur, a custom-built wolf estate. They’d been happy for us to take up residence indefinitely, but we’d been keen to get our own place. The move wouldn’t feel real until we did. Now we had a small two-up two-down on Foxglove, a slightly lower class estate, home to both humans and wolves. It wasn’t much
, but it was ours. At least until we could afford something better, I told myself as I gave the front door a sharp kick to get it open. Vince, who’d been rapping on the door, leapt back as it swung open. It hadn’t taken either of us long to learn that routine.
“Oh, Ayla. I could build you a better house out of twigs and straw.” Joel leaned out of his car window, regarding the little house with sorrow, eyes gleaming in the light from the street lamp. His lips were curved in a rueful smile.
I straightened my shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with this house.”
“Apart from the fact that it’s small, ugly, crammed in amongst countless identical houses—”
“Alright.” Vince cut his partner short, rolling his eyes at me. “Down boy.” He slung his arm round my shoulder and hugged me against him. I nuzzled into his leather jacket and inhaled deeply, comforted by the mix of leather, whisky and oak rolling off him. “You ready for this?” he asked me, guiding me to the car.
“Absolutely not.” I clambered in, silently cursing the clunky heels I had on. Where had this myth started that high heels make you walk more gracefully? I just stomped, convinced I was going to fall off them any minute.
“Relax,” Vince told me as he slid into the passenger seat. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
I nodded and stared up at the house as Joel pulled away. I could see the light from our bedroom glowing round the edge of the curtains and I pictured Shannon sat on the bed, diligently preparing for her meeting. Then I imagined Moreland Park bathed in icy moonlight and full of wolves from all over the city, all watching me lined up with the cubs, ready to be blooded and welcomed back to the Pack. My stomach churned. I fiddled with the hem of my dress, picking at specks of dust. A dress, for God’s sake. A red dress at that.
Vince and Joel chatted about Pack gossip as we drove, trying to draw me into the conversation about which cubs would be blooded and how much their parents had spent on their outfits. A total waste of money if you asked me, since by the end of the night the designer suits and couture dresses would be in shreds, scattered through the park. I dropped in a vague comment every now and then, but that was all the enthusiasm I could muster.
I stared at the bright full moon sailing above the clouds in the inky sky. The February moon was called Wolf Moon in some cultures. What better night for a ceremony like this, when young wolves were declared adults and hunted for the first time? Of course, wolf cubs were born with the ability to shift—my mum was fond of reminiscing how I’d been born wolf and hadn’t shifted to human until I was a week old—but to be deemed mature enough to hunt solo was a big deal.
I’d been blooded age ten, Vince alongside me, both of us almost frenzied with excitement. I hadn’t cared about people watching me back then; I’d been proud, desperate to shift shape and run off to hunt. Now all I could think was that something was bound to go wrong. I’d fall off my shoes, or throw up on someone, or pass out. Or all three.
I realized Joel was saying something to me and forced myself back into their conversation. “Sorry, what?”
“I said have you heard from the police yet?”
“Oh. No, it’ll be another couple of weeks.” I’d marked the date on my calendar, highlighted it and everything. I’d applied to join the police as a community support officer as soon as Shannon and I moved back here. After my Cousin Adam’s murder and the involvement of two officers in the aftermath, I’d felt a need to redress the balance somehow. Make sure no more kids suffered like Adam had.
Once upon a time, the police fast-tracked werewolf applicants, eager to get the stronger, faster wolves on the force. It had only taken a few nasty accidents for people to realize that being stronger and faster than a human means nothing if you don’t have the training and discipline to use those skills properly. Now wolves went through the exact same screening and training process as humans and fewer people got their bones accidentally crushed while being arrested.
“You’re going to be great,” Vince said, reaching back to pat my knee. “Officer Hammond. I can’t wait.”
I smiled and squeezed his fingers. “This doesn’t give you an excuse for speeding, Vince. I’m not going to lose your tickets for you.”
“Ticket, single,” he stressed. “One ticket. And I was justified. I was—”
“We’re here,” Joel announced, turning into a wide gravel car park already full with cars. The rough wooden gates to Moreland Park loomed in the distance, surrounded by tangled hedges and slender birch trees. Moreland was the biggest park in the city, left to grow wild to give us wolves somewhere to truly run free. I opened my door and inhaled deeply, catching scents of game and greenery on the chill night air. It brought a rush of memories of my first Lupercali with it and the first tingle of excitement crackled through me, burning away some of the nausea.
The gravel was rimed with frost and I skidded a little on my stupid heels until Vince linked arms with me. I clutched at him gratefully, my heart thudding with a cocktail of nerves and anticipation. I glanced around the car park as we picked our way to the gate and saw my parents’ pearl-grey two-by-four parked a few feet away from Joel’s crimson estate. God. The real root of my anxiety tonight was that I’d somehow embarrass my parents. Why it bothered me when I’d been an embarrassment to them for years I didn’t know, but it did.
A few other groups were drifting to the gate; I saw young kids in sparkly dresses and freshly-pressed suits, giggling excitedly as they were ushered along by their parents. Vince and Joel called out greetings to wolves they recognized. I hadn’t really been home long enough to reconnect with anyone, so I kept quiet and focused on staying upright. I would burn the shoes when I got home, I silently resolved. The pointed toes were already killing me and the dull ache in my feet made me itch to throw off my human shape and run as a wolf.
Soon, I promised myself and my wolf, glancing at the moon again. Just a couple of hours and we’re free.
The Lupercali ceremony was held in the center of the park, a wide clearing ringed by ancient oak trees. By the time we arrived the clearing was crowded, every wolf in the city spread around the circle. Teenagers clustered in the shadows of the oak trees, too cool to sit with their families. Elder wolves had brought garden chairs with them and sat with blankets draped over their knees to ward off the winter cold. Young cubs chased each other in and out of the blackberry thickets, yelping and barking joyfully under parents’ watchful eyes. Glasses clinked and people murmured and laughed. My heart swelled a little at it all. Family. I wished once more that Shannon had been able to come.
“Ayla!” My mum emerged from the crowd, dragging my dad behind her. She was wearing a tawny fake fur coat. I couldn’t decide if that was ironic or just weird. Dad was in an immaculate dinner suit. I tugged nervously at my dress again; suddenly glad I’d let Shannon talk me into buying it and wearing the gold jewelry. “Darling, we were wondering where you were!” Mum hugged me warmly, then released me to look me in the eyes. “Are you okay? Nervous? You don’t need to be.”
“I’m fine,” I assured her, although of course they could both smell the acrid scent of my fear. “Just want to get on with it, that’s all.”
“You look beautiful,” Mum said. “We’re both so proud of you.”
Dad nodded and gave me a gentle, buddy-thump on the arm. “Big night, baby,” he said, flashing me a smile that showed entirely too many teeth. “Knock ‘em dead.”
He was as nervous as I was. It didn’t settle my stomach one bit.
With my parents on one side and Vince and Joel on the other, I moved through the gathered throng towards the center of the clearing. A huge bonfire cracked and flared there, shooting sparks and orange-blue fingers of flame into the night. The clouds were clearing to show the moon in all her glory, surrounded by a faint sprinkling of stars. The scent of burning wood mingled with the rich aroma of cooking meat. That came from a barbeque a few feet from the main fire, where someone was cooking herby sausages and burgers.
When the ceremon
y kicked off, I’d be standing by the bonfire waiting for one of the Pack alphas to daub my head with sheep’s blood, cut my palm, and declare me one of them. Then me and the cubs would run off into the forest while everyone else stayed here and ate and drank until they passed out. Like I said, it was a Roman thing.
I spent the time before the ceremony being dragged from one person to another by Mum and Dad. Even though I hadn’t done much socializing since my return, a few Pack members recognized me from Adam’s funeral. A few even remembered me from before I’d left home and I got the usual refrains of I remember you when you were this high and you look just like your mother from them. I bore it with gritted teeth and a tight smile, counting down to the start of the ceremony.
The only person I was glad to see was Gloriana, kitted out in full drag queen regalia and gliding through the woods with perfect balance on her six-inch stilettos. Aside from being one of my few new friends in the city, Glory was the star act at Silks—the local werewolf gay bar—and not only dressed like a diva but unashamedly was one. Even Mum loved her.
“Sweetie, you look gorgeous!” she told me, catching my hands in hers. “Red is so your color. You should dye your hair, you know. A burnished copper, maybe. Black washes you out.”
I ran my hand over my dark spikes. “Black goes with everything though.”
She patted her own bright red beehive wig. “It’s a party, Ayla, not a funeral.” She drifted off to greet Joel before I could think of a witty retort.
Finally it was time. Someone at the center of the clearing blew a shrill whistle that cut through the low babble of the crowd and drew everyone’s attention to the bonfire. Eddie Hughes, one of the Pack alphas, stood before the bonfire, the flames throwing jagged shadows across his stern face. “Settle down, everyone!” he yelled. “Let’s try and show some decorum.”