Shiftless: A Fantastical Werewolf Adventure

by Aimee Easterling

  My mother, on the other hand, could have traced her werewolf bloodlines back to the Mayflower. Any hypothetical sons I had would be just what my father was looking for, and I cringed at the thought. This had been my worst nightmare ever since I wrapped my mind around werewolf succession and my father’s plans for the pack. I was pretty sure I didn’t want children at all, if only because 10% of werewolves were born as bloodlings, which produced tough odds for werewolf mothers. But if I ever did reproduce, I definitely didn’t want my sons to be raised in their grandfather’s image. Who wants to be the mother of Genghis Khan?

  While I worked my way through that train of thought, my father had risen, a smirk on his face. I wasn’t a small woman, but he towered over me, his human form more daunting than the wolves at my back. Despite my fear, though, I could tell the alpha was playing cat and mouse, which gave me a perverse sense of hope. If my father just wanted to drag me back to Haven and marry me off to someone with good bloodlines, there would have been no reason for this manipulative chat. So he still needed something. But what?

  “You know, your sister had a son,” Father continued conversationally. I did know, because Brooke had sent my father a few letters after she left Haven and before I followed suit. She’d fled at an even younger age than I had, then ended up marrying a guy in medical school who was thrilled when he found out his girlfriend was pregnant. But Brooke didn’t invite me to the wedding, never offered to have me come meet Dale or their son Keith. I hadn’t heard from her after I left home.

  Wait, had my father just referred to Brooke in the past tense?

  “The silly girl died a few years ago,” my father confirmed, and shock made me miss his next few sentences. I’d felt abandoned by Brooke, but had never imagined she’d be permanently gone before I could forgive her. I sank down onto the log my father had risen from, my throat closing up as tears tried to force their way out of my eyes, but pretty soon my sense of self-preservation kicked back in. I could mourn Brooke later. Right now, I had to figure out what my father wanted, and how to get it for him so I could escape from this mess.

  Then the pieces clicked together. “You want Keith to be your heir,” I mused out loud, not bothering to look into my father’s eyes since I was suddenly sure I’d figured out the alpha’s plan.

  “You always were a clever girl,” my father confirmed. “A grandson is as good as a son, as long as he’s a wolf and in Haven. That’s your choice—teach the boy to shift and bring him to me willingly, or we’ll have to go back to plan B.”

  I took a deep breath. This was my way out, as unsavory as it seemed. I didn’t even know the kid, but chances are that if he had my father’s blood running through his veins, he was an arrogant alpha and would be thrilled to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. “Just so we’re clear,” I said, raising my voice to make sure the wolves behind me heard the deal being struck, “what you’re saying is that if I can talk Keith into being your heir, I’m off the hook. You’ll leave me alone. No more surprise visits.”

  “I’ll be glad to see the back of you,” my father agreed, the words echoing his dismissal a decade before. Then he pushed his hat back down over his hair, whistled to his wolves as if they were hunting dogs, and brushed past me up the trail.

  “One month,” he called back without turning. Within seconds, my father was out of sight, but the scent of wolves lingered in my memory for the rest of the day.

  Chapter 5

  My boss tried to talk me into simply taking a leave of absence, but I knew I wouldn’t be coming back. During the five years I’d worked for the park, I’d merely been marking time, and I realized now that I’d never so much as gone out for drinks after work, let alone made any deeper connections. There was no one here who I would miss. I might send Maddie a postcard once this whole mess had been sorted out, but that was about it.

  As I drove my ancient Toyota back to my cabin to pack my sparse possessions, though, I realized I had no idea where I was going. How long ago had my sister died? Did Dale know his wife and son were werewolves? As much as I would have loved to use the absence of information as an excuse to malinger, my father was efficient in getting what he wanted, so I wasn’t surprised to find a dossier waiting on my kitchen table, even though the cabin door was just as firmly locked as when I’d left. I suspected there was an equally thick file on me floating around the Chief’s office—just how a daughter hopes for her father to remember her, with a sea of facts in case she can someday be of use.

  The contents of Brooke’s file hit me hard. I had to sit down to keep from falling when I saw her young face in the top photograph, tilted up to smile at the lanky man beside her. That had to be Dale, and I could tell even from the photo that he was the furthest you could get from an alpha werewolf. My brother-in-law was skinny and unimposing despite his height, the kind of man you might call cute instead of handsome. Just the type of husband my loving and lovable sister would have gravitated toward.

  More photos slipped out of the folder, but Brooke didn’t get much older. By the time her curly-haired son was three years old, the family was short a mother. My sister had died before I even left Haven.

  Although the reality of my sister’s early death was shocking, the true surprise came when I flipped to the end of Brooke’s folder. The last item was an unopened envelope, addressed to me in my sister’s looping hand. Peering at the postmark, I saw that Brooke had mailed it months before I fled Haven, but our father had clearly deemed the letter not worthy of my young eyes. Yet he’d kept it and added the envelope to Brooke’s file. Probably after steaming open and resealing the flap in order to decide whether the contents would be an appropriate bait to add to my trap, I thought sarcastically.

  Even though I was itching to know what Brooke had wanted to say to me, I stilled my fingers before they could open the envelope. The letter inside was from my sister, but I knew the real message came from my father, and I’d been manipulated enough for one day. So I tucked the unopened missive back into Brooke’s file and got to work packing up the few possessions I wanted to keep. Once again, my father’s actions were forcing me away from my home.

  ***

  As I crunched up the winding gravel driveway from the country highway to Dale’s house the next day, I realized my brother-in-law was wealthy. Yes, the rundown nature of the yard gave the residence a homey and lived-in look, but the sheer size of the house at the top of the hill made it clear I was outclassed. I pulled to a stop beside a brand-new minivan, and even the soccer balls and scratched bike in the yard weren’t enough to keep me from cringing at the comparison between my rusty vehicle and my brother-in-law’s van. I knew without turning around that the garbage bags of clothes and cardboard boxes of books in my backseat went even further toward giving me the illusion of being a vagrant. Heck, who was I kidding—I was homeless at the moment.

  During the two-hour drive to Dale’s house, I’d mostly worried over the issue of how to tackle Dale and Keith’s ignorance. My father made it clear in his file that my sister hadn’t spilled the beans about our genealogy to her family, so Dale was to be kept in the dark. Keith, obviously, would have to be told since I needed to help him learn to shift, but how would a hormone-addled teenage werewolf take the news? Looking at their house, though, I now realized those problems were secondary to my first big hurdle—insinuating my way into my sister’s family. What would prevent Dale from assuming I was some kind of gold-digger, then sending me packing before I even got in the door?

  The front porch was bigger than my entire cabin back at the park, and the structure was imposing in its sheer size. I was intimidated enough to try to walk lightly, but my hiking boots were still loud on the boards as I made my way to the glass-paneled door. Cupping my hands around my face, I peered inside, where a beautifully modern kitchen sparkled with cleanliness. My imagination could easily place Brooke in the scene, pulling homemade cookies out of the oven. The role of a fifties-era housewife would have been the perfect fit for her cuddly personality
, and it broke my heart to think she’d escaped Haven only to die of cancer four years into her perfect life.

  “Can I help you?” I turned so quickly at the words that I nearly twisted my ankle, slipping and having to catch myself on the side of the house to keep from falling. Yep, this is the exact kind of first impression I’d hoped to make, I thought, taking in the form of my brother-in-law in front of me. Dale was older than he’d been in the last photo, but he still exuded the air of kindliness that I’m sure had attracted my sister in the first place. Even when startling an intruder, the doctor couldn’t quite make his face look stern.

  “This is so embarrassing,” I said, trying to figure out where to start with my explanation. Despite Dale’s gentle nature, a tall male figure catching me in his territory was enough to set my senses on high alert, and I had to struggle against an urge to jump back into my car and spin out of the driveway. Only the knowledge that my father would track me down and drag me back to Haven if I failed kept my feet rooted to the spot as I tried out a shaky smile.

  But then Dale surprised me with my own name. “I can’t believe it! Terra?” he asked...then pulled me into a bear hug.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been hugged, and my body stiffened in response, then slowly relaxed as Dale’s brotherly affection washed over me. What kind of man would recognize on sight the sister-in-law he’d never met? Would catch her snooping, but assume her intentions were pure? My sister had clearly found a winner—too bad I was here to turn this kind-hearted man’s son into a psychopath.

  “And you’re Dale,” I responded once he released me from the hug. I could just make out the hint of a tear welling up in one of my brother-in-law’s eyes, probably because my sister and I had a strong family resemblance. Just thinking about Brooke made my own eyes tear up, so I swiped at them as I turned a more honest smile on Dale. “I only just heard about Brooke,” I continued, “and I couldn’t stop myself from coming right away to meet you and Keith.”

  Clearly I’d said the wrong thing. For the first time, Dale’s face became shadowed, and he paused for a minute before giving me the brushoff I’d been expecting, but for a different reason. “I’m not sure now’s a good time,” Dale said, and I realized the unhappiness on my brother-in-law’s face was for his son, not for the wife he’d lost a decade ago. Unlike me, Dale would have had plenty of time to put Brooke’s death behind him, but the inevitable changes in Keith as he approached his first shift would be worrisome to a human father. Unfortunately, those changes were only going to get worse.

  “You’re worried about Keith,” I said, hoping to get Dale talking while I figured out how to approach the issue. Since my brother-in-law was a medical doctor, I’d be hard-pressed to pretend Keith had any kind of physical disease, but what about a hereditary mental illness? Something very vague and rare...and easily overcome with the proper therapy.

  As I worked through the intricacies of a lie about my private therapy practice, Dale was spilling his worries that his son had fallen into a bad crowd in school, had started experimenting with drugs. “There’s a major problem in our area with young people abusing prescription drugs,” my brother-in-law told me earnestly, and I almost rolled my eyes at him. I had a feeling Keith was as straight as an arrow just like his father, and I was 99% sure any behavioral changes Dale noticed were due to his son’s approaching change. “I don’t want my son to make a bad first impression on his only aunt,” Dale finished. “Maybe you could come back in a few weeks?”

  “Actually, I’m really glad I came when I did,” I told my brother-in-law, putting on my best pseudo-professional manner. “Did Brooke ever tell you about the...um...mental instability in our family?” Dale paled a bit, and I spun my tale as best I could. Good thing my brother-in-law was an easy mark since my abilities as a con artist left something to be desired. Between Dale’s gullibility, though, and facts pulled from his dossier, I was soon being shown through the house and into Keith’s bedroom. Where it became obvious from scent alone that the boy had already reached the bone-melting phase of a shift.

  “Could you leave us alone for a moment?” I asked Dale calmly, then I quickly shut and locked the door behind him.

  ***

  “Who are you?” the kid grunted from the bed. The curtains were drawn and the lights were off, so the room was dim, but I could feel the imminent shift pushing into my bones. Keith’s pheromones were drawing out my own wolf, but I had a plan to use that effect to my advantage. My nephew would have to help me, though, and there was no time to explain what we were doing. I needed to get him to shift back to human, and fast. Now was neither the time nor the place for his first change.

  “I’m your aunt Terra,” I told Keith soothingly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. “Brooke was my sister.”

  “I heard you telling Dad you’re a shrink,” Brooke’s son said, turning to face me with piercing brown eyes just like my own. “He thinks I’m on drugs, but I swear I just tried pot that one time....” He stopped speaking abruptly, twitching involuntarily as the pain hit, and I reached down to take his hand.

  “I believe you, Keith, but I need you to trust me for a minute,” I said gently. “Can you match your breathing to mine? And keep looking into my eyes.” Keith’s attention had turned inward when the ache hit, but he clearly had some of his grandfather’s iron will because the boy was able to obey my request. I slowed my own breathing to lead Keith into a calmer place, then reached for my wolf brain.

  What I was planning to do would be tricky, partly because I had such iron control over my wolf nowadays that I couldn’t seem to let her out when I wanted to. But also because I needed to be able to pull my wolf brain out far enough to yank Keith back to full humanity when I stopped my own shift...without letting my wolf escape all the way. Since a younger werewolf like my nephew would mirror any shift of an adult in close physical proximity, I figured my wolf and I could easily shut his wolf down, but only if my own darker half cooperated. It had been so long since I’d let her out that I was afraid my wolf wouldn’t go back to sleep willingly.

  It was worth the risk, though, because it looked like Keith was going to change all the way if he didn’t get a little help. I couldn’t imagine how terrifying it would be to perform your first shift without understanding what you were, and the kid’s father might get torn apart in the process. I wasn’t sure if I owed Brooke anything after the way she had abandoned me to our father’s tender mercies, but Dale and Keith didn’t deserve to pay for her desertion.

  My nephew’s breathing had slowed, but I could feel his wolf just out of sight, waiting to return to the surface. Meanwhile, I calmed my own mind enough to let my wolf up out of her cell, and she rose gently, not in the snarling rush I’d expected. I felt the tickling of hairs pushing out of my body, but there was little pain as my senses became more acute. I could smell Dale in the kitchen, pouring a cup of afternoon coffee, could almost catch a confusing hint of wolf scent outside the house. But I’d have to think about that later. Right now, I needed to turn off this shift.

  Down! I ordered my wolf, and as I’d expected, she growled at me, pain running up my arms as my fingers curled into claws. But, surprisingly, my wolf didn’t put up a fight. Instead, in rare human words, my wolf gave me an ultimatum—I’ll go to sleep now, but in five minutes, we’re all wolf.

  Shit. This wasn’t good at all, but I had no choice except to agree. I could feel my wolf and Keith’s both descending deep into our subconscious, and my nephew looked up at me with suddenly clear eyes. “Wow, I feel a lot better!” he exclaimed. “That really helped. Thanks, Aunt Terra!”

  I didn’t have time to answer, though. My wolf was inching her way back up that dark staircase in my mind, and I needed to be far away from father and son’s sight before my change hit. I tore through the living room and kitchen like my pants were on fire, and was out the door before Dale could even ask what was wrong. I was shifting by the time I hit the tree line, my clothes ripping off my back as my wolf form ho
wled in triumph. Then she ran.

  Chapter 6

  It had been so long since I’d turned wolf that I’d forgotten how it felt to subsume myself into her moods and desires. The wolf was still me, but the animal side of our nature was in charge of our actions, and everything we saw was filtered through her world view. Both of us were exuberant at the chance to run through the woods—it felt like taking off my bra at the end of a long work day, like reaching the high point of a perfect novel. Unchained hunt, my wolf added. No matter how we parsed the feelings, they were relief and excitement rolled into one.

  My wolf was more restrained than I remembered, though. She still took in every squirrel and bird moving through the forest, but age allowed her to choose whether to give chase. We stalked a rabbit for half an hour, then let it go at the last minute. Cheeseburger, she told me, and I was almost sure the wolf was bartering with our human side. She seemed to recognize that spilling blood during her first run in six years would make another shift highly unlikely in the near future, but the wolf wanted to make it plain that she craved red meat. It felt strange to be making a deal with my animal side since I was used to her just taking what she wanted, but maybe the last decade had matured us both to the point where we could act as a team again.

  We paused beside a small stream to lap up the cool water, but stopped when our nose picked up the scent of another wolf where one didn’t belong. Keith had never shifted all the way, so we shouldn’t be smelling my nephew’s wolf, but this was obviously a werewolf, and a male. Alpha male, my wolf corrected. We snarled in unison, our mothering instincts aroused by an unrelated male werewolf near Keith during his first shift.

  The trouble was that alpha male werewolves had a nearly insurmountable urge to kill unrelated males as the youngsters reached the age of their first change. The behavior was a relic of our more primal days, when a young male in an alpha’s territory might be angling for his position, spurring the pack leader to squelch the challenge before it could be issued. The problem didn’t often come up, though, because everyone was related either by blood or by marriage in most packs, and some modern males had also learned to ignore the urge even around strangers. But not everyone could overpower his wolf...or wanted to. Keith wouldn’t be safe with an unknown alpha male lurking around.