by Naomi Clark
Nor could I do much about it. She couldn’t run with the three of us. That was just fact, whether I liked it or not.
I smothered my guilt as I arrived at Joel’s place and caught a whiff of steak and chips, Vince’s Friday night staple. Joel let me in and ushered me into the kitchen where a bottle of beer was already waiting for me.
“We should really do something as a foursome next Friday,” Joel said, echoing my earlier thoughts. “Maybe a film or something?”
“I’d love that. Shannon would too,” I said, sniffing my beer. It was faintly redolent of bananas and I checked the label to see it was indeed banana bread flavored. Seemed utterly pointless to me, but Vince was a member of one of these ale clubs that sent you weird varieties every now and then. I’d been given chocolate beer last weekend. I hadn’t been able to finish it. Some things just aren’t meant to go together. Banana bread beer was strangely palatable though.
“How’s she doing anyway?” Vince asked from by the oven. “Any new gossip on the Tina Brady case?”
“It’s not about gossip,” I told him tartly, “it’s about finding her daughter. Shannon’s working her fingers to the bone on it.” I picked at the label on my bottle. “I think she’s enjoying it, actually, as hard as it is. It’s a complete change of direction for her.”
Vince dropped a handful of chunky mushrooms into a frying pan sizzling with oil. “You know, we were talking about it the other night. Seems like not so long ago that you were taking off yourself, Ayla. I guess nothing changes.”
I thought about that, thought too about the missing werewolf up in Yorkshire. I suppose the first reaction when a child—human or wolf—went missing, was to assume the worst. Pedophiles, drugs, rape. But it didn’t have to be that sinister, did it? Maybe Molly had just run off to spend some quality time with a new boyfriend, maybe the Yorkshire kid had a blazing row with his parents and went off to teach them a lesson.
“It’s a different world now though,” Joel said, joining me at the table. “Alpha Humans didn’t exist ten years ago. There weren’t so many problems with gangs and knives.”
Alpha Humans wasn’t an angle Shannon had pursued yet. I hoped she wouldn’t. Last time we’d encountered one of their groups, she’d ended up with two broken ribs. My wolf shuddered at the memory. To distract myself and my wolf, I changed the subject. “How’s work, Vince? Oscar still giving you problems?”
Vince shook his head. “Greg finally lost his temper and sacked him. He’s probably at home licking his wounded pride right now. Things have calmed down a bit since that.”
“And you?” I asked Joel.
He grinned, popping open his own beer. “I just won a contract to design the new science department at the local secondary school.” He raised his bottle to clink with mine. “Got the news today.”
“That’s fantastic!” I exclaimed. “Why aren’t we having a proper celebration?”
“Because we’re having it tomorrow,” Joel said. “I’ve booked a table at the Fleur de Lis—seven o’ clock sharp. I assumed you and Shannon wouldn’t have any plans.”
“That was very presumptuous of you,” I scolded lightly, “but as it happens, we don’t. Of course we’d love to come! Who else is coming?”
“My folks and Vince’s and Glory, once she’s finished at Silks. She probably won’t make it until later, but she’ll do her best.”
Joel’s success dominated the conversation throughout the meal. He talked animatedly about his plans for the project, talking in architectural jargon that meant nothing to me—or Vince, judging from his vaguely baffled expression—but his passion was clear. As we cleared up after the rare steaks and homemade chips, our thoughts turned away from ceiling arches and support struts and to the run.
The skies had been clear all day, promising a frosty but snow-free night and I was itching to get out there and run. My skin felt too small and tight, my wolf desperate to burst out. But as Joel filled the dishwasher and Vince dropped our beer bottles in the recycling bin, I recalled the feral wolf and the youngster he’d been pushing around. I rubbed my shoulder absently. The wound had healed up quickly; I didn’t even have a scar. I hadn’t mentioned the encounter to anyone other than Shannon and I hadn’t heard any news relating to it. No rumors about ferals in the city, no word of another young wolf going missing. So I’d dismissed it as a freak occurrence. Maybe it had been a feral who’d decided to rejoin society. I’d never heard of it happening, but surely it did?
With the night outside calling to the wolf inside, I tried once more to dismiss it, but the image kept coming back to me. The feral chasing off after the youngster, the untamed light in his amber eyes. I bit my lip, chewing on my ring.
“Come on, girlfriend.” Vince said, slapping me on the shoulder. “The night awaits!”
We stripped in the garden and shifted fast. The cold was exhilarating, affecting my worried mind like a douse of icy water. I shook my head and huffed, looking around for Vince and Joel. Vince had already bounded over the fence into the park with a yip of excitement. Joel was crouched down next to me, head to the ground, hindquarters up in the air. His tail whipped back and forth, inviting me to play.
I dashed at him, feigning an attack before breaking off to circle round and grab his tail. We tussled, rolling around in the snow with mock growls and snaps, until Vince started barking at us on the other side of the fence, an edge of a whine in his tone. We were ignoring him. I broke away from Joel and leapt the fence. Joel joined us, immediately dashing to his mate to engage in more play fighting.
Larkspur Park wasn’t the biggest park in the city, but it was my favorite. Most wolves tended to head for Moreland when they wanted a run, so the hunting was always good here. I put my nose to the ground, pushing through the light dusting of snow to search for deer. Their rich, gamey scent was faint here, so close to the houses, but deeper in the park it would get stronger. I wagged my tail, anticipating a chase. I wasn’t out to kill or eat; not after the meal I’d just eaten, but a good hunt was its own reward sometimes. Shannon didn’t get that. She thought it was immoral to terrify the poor deer by stalking them that way, which I didn’t get. Surely killing one and not eating it would be worse?
A quick glance at Vince and Joel told me I wouldn’t have any company on my run. They were tangled up in each other, a knot of gold and black fur and wagging tails. I huffed my disgust and trotted off, leaving them to it.
I quickly found my deer, a young buck, strong and healthy. He wouldn’t suffer too much from a little game of chase, I decided. Shannon would approve. I picked up his scent and followed it into the clutch of shadowy trees ahead, my paws gliding silently over the snow. After a while, Vince and Joel’s yips faded away and I was alone in the woods. Owls called to each other over my head and every now and then I heard a faint splash as some water creature went about its own nocturnal business. A chill wind ruffled my fur as I tracked the buck and despite my hot blood, I felt a pang for the heat of summer. The height of summer was the time of the other big festival in the werewolf calendar—the Green Wolf ceremony. That one I truly loved and had observed even during my years as a lone wolf. I was already looking forward to celebrating it as part of the Pack again—and it was one Shannon could attend too.
My mind wandering, I didn’t recognize the sound for what it was at first. I absently assumed it was a bird, maybe a cat crying. It took a few slow minutes for me to realize that yes, it was crying. Human crying. A child crying.
I forgot my buck and pricked up my ears to pinpoint the sound. There—off to the east, not too far from me. I picked up my pace, moving from a steady lope to a run, nerves on fire. Both my wolf and human instincts urged me on and in seconds I’d leapt a thicket of dead blackberry bushes to find myself in a small clearing.
Not alone. A girl was shivering in the shadow of a pine tree, curled in on herself in what had to be a fruitless attempt to stay warm. She stank of Pack and of fear and of another scent I couldn’t place, but knew I knew. As a wolf, I only saw in shades of
sepia and grey, so all I could really tell from here was that her hair was dark. I padded cautiously to her, her choked sobs tugging at my heart, and nudged her arm with my nose. She stiffened, her breathing fast and shallow, and she turned her head to me. Terror and desperation was etched on her thin features and I could almost taste the fight-or-flight conflict going on inside her. Not wanting to scare her any further, I backed away and sat down, contriving to look as harmless as I could.
It was clear she was in no condition to fight. She was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans and she was visibly, painfully scrawny. She was also battered and bruised, cut and scratched all over her face and arms. I’d no idea how long she’d been out here, but I did know that she couldn’t stay any longer. I’d need help to get her to a doctor.
I tipped my head back to the iron-grey clouds and howled, a long, thin howl that would bring Vince and Joel running. If they weren’t too busy shagging, that is.
After a few seconds I heard Vince’s answering howl and relaxed a little. They were coming. The girl flinched and moaned at the sound, turning her face away from me again. God, she was scared. I could taste it, metallic and hot on my tongue. Scared of me, another wolf? I was Pack—she ought to be relieved. Wasn’t that the instinct that powered through us all, as undeniable as the moon’s call? Pack was safety. Pack was home.
But her fear was a living thing, setting me on edge. I whined and decided maybe she’d feel better if I was human-shaped. Then I could at least talk to her, try to find out what she was doing out here. I stood and forced myself to change.
It was always harder to shift back to human then it was to shift into wolf. My body preferred wolf-shape and since my hunt had been abortive, my wolf-self felt cheated. She wanted to run and stalk, pounce and kill. She had no desire to change back yet. It was a desire so deeply rooted I had to fight, had to wrestle myself back into human form. After a few blistering minutes, I dropped to my hands and knees in the snow, panting for breath, sweat dripping down my body.
The girl never moved the whole time I was shifting, just lay there and cried, which made me feel weirdly guilty. I crept closer to her.
“Hey,” I said, pitching my voice low and calm. “Hey, are you alright?”
She lifted her head to glance at me from under a matted mess of hair. Recognition flashed through me and I froze, shocked and disbelieving. “Molly? Molly Brady?”
She didn’t answer, just dropped her head again. I shuffled closer, then hesitated. Should I try moving her? She might have internal injuries. If she had broken bones and I moved her, they might heal in the wrong position. I tried to dredge up anything useful I’d picked up over the years about first aid, but all that came to mind was the recovery position. I didn’t think Molly was in danger of choking to death on her vomit, so I decided to leave her where she was until Vince and Joel arrived.
I could hear Vince howling, not too far away, and that shook me out of my stupor a little. Maybe Molly wasn’t about to choke to death, but it was clear she was badly hurt and probably in shock. The best thing I could do was try to keep her conscious and aware, if I could.
“Molly, look at me. Can you look at me, Molly? My name’s Ayla. I’m going to help you. My friends and I will get you to the hospital and everything will be fine, okay? Molly? Dammit, please say something. At least look at me.” I sucked my lip ring into my mouth, panic threading through me when she failed to respond. I resisted the temptation to shake her, afraid of hurting her, and just kept up my stream of chatter. She twitched and whimpered every now and then, but that was all I could get out of her. My panic mounted by the second, the cold beginning to sink into my bones. If I was feeling it, she had to be. Hypothermia was just as serious for werewolves as humans.
To my relief, Vince and Joel burst into the clearing a few minutes later. Vince had shifted back to his human body, but Joel was still in his wolf shape, gleaming gold in the moonlight. He bounded past Vince to Molly, snuffling loudly. The girl looked up sharply, suddenly alert, and met Joel’s eyes. He huffed in her face. She screamed.
Joel jumped back from her with a bark of alarm and Vince rushed forward to grab his mate, dropping to his knees and slinging his arms round Joel’s neck. Molly staggered to her feet, then collapsed into me as if unable to support herself. I caught her, slumping backwards under her weight and we hit the ground in a tangle of limbs. She clung to me, sobbing against my bare shoulder.
“Please, please, please,” she gasped, digging her nails into me until I squirmed.
I craned my neck to look past her to Vince, who was still hanging onto a clearly baffled Joel. “Maybe he should shift back?” I suggested. It was obvious Joel had upset her, even if it wasn’t obvious why. I didn’t see the point in upsetting her further.
Vince stroked Joel’s head and released him, stepping back. Joel let out a wolfy sigh and shifted back to human. I looked away, holding Molly awkwardly. She was trembling in my arms, refusing to look up and still mumbling nonsense at me. It always felt wrong to watch someone change back to human. They were vulnerable then, exposed to danger, and averting your gaze felt…polite. A way of showing the other wolf you meant no harm.
When Joel was human again, he sat down in the snow, knees pulled demurely up to his broad chest. “So what’s going on?” he asked calmly, as if a strange, teenage wolf hadn’t just shrieked in his face.
“I found her,” I said. “We need to get her to the hospital.”
Vince stepped forwards and crouched down next to us, reaching for Molly with gentle hands. “Hey kid,” he said gently. “You wanna let go of Ayla and let us take a look at you?”
I was surprised when she responded, given her reaction to Joel. But Molly loosened her death grip on me and glanced up at Vince warily. He beamed at her. “There we go, let’s see those pretty eyes,” he crooned, sweeping her filthy hair away from her face. “Hello, gorgeous. Come here then.”
With a sniffle, Molly peeled herself away from me and moved into Vince’s open arms. He hugged her carefully, stroking her hair as he had Joel’s. “Okay then,” he said. “We should get you somewhere safe and warm, shouldn’t we?”
I got to my feet, mentally running through everything we should do. Call Shannon. Call Tina. Call the police. Call an ambulance… But looking at Molly, battered and bloody and wrapped in Vince’s embrace, I knew he was right. First thing we had to do was make her feel safe.
“Can you carry her?” I asked Vince. “We should take her back to yours.”
He nodded and swung Molly up in his arms with ease. She didn’t protest, just snuggled further into his embrace, eyes screwed closed. He headed back towards the house. Joel and I fell into step behind him.
“What’s going on?” Joel asked again, whispering to me. “Who is she?”
“Molly Brady,” I whispered back. “I just stumbled across her—God knows how long she’s been out here, but she’s in a bad state.”
“That’s the girl Shannon’s been looking for? Shit, that’s weird.” He whistled. “We should call the police.”
Even though I’d thought the same thing seconds ago, I shook my head. “Not yet. She might bolt again. Let’s get her home and see how badly she’s hurt first.” Molly was a troubled teen, I reminded myself, already had a criminal record. I was pretty sure she’d disappear like a shot if the police showed up.
We trudged back to Vince and Joel’s place in silence after that, feet crunching through ice and slush. I’d run further than I realized on my hunt and the walk home stretched out miserably, the night getting colder and colder, anxiety gnawing at me. When the warm lights of the estate emerged from the shadows, the sight sent a shiver of relief through me. I sped up, dragging Joel with me so we overtook Vince and Molly. Joel unlocked the back gate and the four of us were soon ensconced in the kitchen. Me and the boys dressed hurriedly, then Vince went to find a blanket for Molly.
She sat in sullen silence at the table, a big tartan blanket draped around her thin shoulders. Joel set a cup of hot
chocolate before her and she stared into the creamy drink without seeing it. I glanced at Vince. She’d responded to him before, where she’d ignored me and screamed at Joel. Maybe if we left them alone, she’d talk?
“Joel, should we…um…” I waved my hands vaguely towards the door, then looked significantly at Molly.
“Oh. Yeah, I suppose. Vince, we’ll be in the living room.” Joel caught my hand and ushered me out of the kitchen, closing the door behind us. Then we both huddled against the wood, listening to Vince chatter to the young girl.
“So you don’t like hot chocolate,” he said brightly, as if all this was perfectly normal. “How about something stronger? Coffee?”
“Vodka?” Molly asked. Her voice was raspy, as if she hadn’t used it for a while.
“Hmm, not sure I can stretch to vodka…” There were a few bangs and slams as Vince rifled through the cupboards. “How about a beer? Honey beer?”
“Sounds gross.”
“It is.” A hiss as a bottle cap popped. “But it’s alcoholic.” Chairs scraping on tiles; Vince sitting back down. “Now,” he said. “What’s your name, pet?”
“Molly.”
“And what were you doing out in the woods, Molly? Did someone hurt you?”
Joel and I both went still keen to hear her answer. For a few long seconds, she said nothing. I heard gulping as she swigged from her beer. Joel sighed in my ear, impatient. I nudged him, every ounce of my attention on the girl behind the door. When she spoke, Shannon’s case would be cracked.
“I don’t know,” Molly said, crushing my hopes. “I don’t remember anything.”
And then she inhaled sharply and there was a thump and a crack. When I opened the door, Molly was slumped on the terracotta tiles, unconscious.
SEVEN
“Bloody hell, Vince, what did you give her?” Joel exclaimed, rushing to his mate’s side as I dashed to Molly’s.
Vince reached for the kitchen phone, alarm lighting his eyes. “Did she hit her head? Is she bleeding?” he asked as he punched in the emergency number.
