Wolf-Run

by Linda Palmer

  I put down my plastic fork, suddenly not that hungry anymore. "Did Titus approach you, himself?"

  "No. A scout did it."

  "Wow. He was that organized?"

  "Oh yeah. Titus was a Palatine, which is a special branch of the Corteggio, the governing body of the Preter, I mean, preter natural world."

  Now I really wasn't hungry. I shoved my food over to Brody. "There's a Preter world?"

  "Baby, there's a Preter universe."

  "Werewolves,

  vampires,

  fairies,

  trolls,

  gnomes,

  leprecauns..." I blurted out the name of every fantasy creature I'd ever heard of.

  Brody picked up the slack. "Zombies, ghosts, elementals, demons, probably even aliens."

  Now I wanted to throw up. "Fuck!"

  He blinked. "Um, yeah."

  "So how'd the scout get to you?"

  He began to eat my leftover breakfast. "Bought me the six pack for starters. He told me about a party that I knew would really piss off my mom. So I went, got drunk, got bitten, got drugged, became a slave, and the rest is history."

  "So you turned into a werewolf immediately? It doesn't happen like that in the movies."

  He shrugged. "I shifted at the next full moon, which was three nights later."

  "Where were you until then? Did you know what was happening? Did it hurt? Were you scared?"

  "Locked up, no, hell yes, and shitless."

  "Wow." I tried to focus. "Is there a cure? I mean, Jackson said something about it. Or was it one of the other guys?"

  "There's a cure."

  "And you haven't taken it because...?"

  "I don't deserve it."

  Tears filled my eyes. "Oh, Brody. You're so wrong."

  "Enough. I'll talk about anything but that."

  "Will you at least tell me why Jackson and the others haven't taken it?"

  "Because they had shitty lives before. It's a brotherhood thing."

  "I get it. How many werewolves are there?"

  "I honestly don't know. We call ourselves Weres,

  ‘Werewolf’ sounds too, well, Hollywood or something."

  "But they range in age?"

  "From seventeen to old."

  "And they all do I mean did Titus's bidding?"

  "Yes."

  "But why? Was he some kind of super-strong Were or something?"

  "Titus was just a guy, a very smart guy in Birmingham, Alabama, who would kill us and probably our families without hesitation and no repercussion if we didn't do what he said." Brody finished off my breakfast, wadded our paper products, and tossed them in a trash barrel a few feet away. "Palatines have hunted Weres for hundreds of years. All the Preters thought they were doing everyone a big favor since Weres were supposedly vicious sociopaths designed for killing. That was a myth the Palatines created and built upon for centuries. But those guys were really a sort of Mafia, a family of bullies who secretly used the very Weres they were supposed to terminate to do their dirty work."

  "That's just wrong."

  "To put it mildly."

  "So who's the boss now?"

  "There have been several leaders since Titus fell. Roman Gillette is currently in charge, though I think he’s getting orders from higher up.” He grimaced. “He’s a piece of work. A real motherfu-u-dger."

  I burst out laughing. "Did you just say mother- fudger?" Brody flushed. "I didn't realize how bad the f-word sounded until it came out of your mouth a minute ago."

  "I said the f-word?" I honestly didn't remember.

  "Yes, and it's all my fault for saying it so much around you. I'm gonna clean up my act, starting now."

  I laughed even harder. He swooped in for a quick kiss, a move that successfully shut me up.

  I closed my eyes, loving the sensation of his mouth on mine. "Mmm."

  "Don't do that."

  My eyes flew open. "Do what?"

  "Make that noise." He jumped off the truck and lifted me down.

  "It's not like I can control how I feel."

  "Maybe not, but you don't have to be so vocal about it. I'm having a hard enough time keeping my hands off you as it is."

  "Why are you, anyway? You know I'm willing."

  "Damn, Cass. Could you cut me some slack here?" Brody pushed me toward the passenger side before walking around to the driver's side. He opened the door and slid behind the wheel. I got inside, too.

  "So why won't you have sex with me?"

  "Because I'm a wolf."

  "But I won't be doing it with wolf-you."

  He grimaced. "Thanks for that mental image."

  "I'm serious. Why are you holding back?"

  "I'm afraid my genes might be wack. And even if I wear a, um, raincoat, there's always a chance I could knock you up."

  "So this relationship is going to be platonic forever?"

  "Unless I take the cure."

  "Does that mean you're rethinking your decision not to?"

  "Maybe. Sex with you is an incentive I haven't had before now."

  Good answer. I smiled. "How much farther is Wolf-Run?"

  "Actually, I'm thinking about a little detour. If you want to, that is."

  "To...?"

  "Sedona. That's where Mom lives."

  "But what about your job?"

  "I'm pretty sure I lost that days ago."

  Chapter Six

  A sliver of flaming orange was all that remained of the sun when we pulled into the drive of a two-story stucco house with traditional clay shingles. A sleek black Toyota was already parked there. Brody killed the engine and just looked at it for a minute while I admired the landscaping and the gigantic rock formations that were the horizon.

  "I'll wait here," I said. "I know this is a reunion. I don't want to intrude."

  "Don't be an idiot." He got out of the truck and got to my door before I could pull the handle up. Another wolf thing?

  With him holding my hand, we walked to the front door. Brody paused on the porch, tipping his head from side to side as if he were trying to get the kinks out of his neck. He sort of shook himself out. Nerves, I decided, trying not to laugh.

  "Okay. Here goes." He rang the bell.

  In less than a minute, a woman with shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes opened the door.

  "Finally!" She threw herself at her son, including me in her exuberant hug, as well. "Oh, sweetie, it's so good to have you home. And this must be Cassidy." She gave me a smacking kiss on the forehead. "I was so relieved when I saw he'd found you."

  "Er, thanks." I suddenly felt incredibly awkward.

  "Come in, you two. Are you hungry? I made chicken quesadillas when I realized you were headed in my direction. Do you have bags or anything?"

  "Actually we both have the clothes on our backs and nothing else."

  "Hmm." She made a show of closing her eyes, and in a melodramatic voice said, "I see shopping in your future."

  "Mo-om," groaned Brody, flushing.

  I just laughed. I couldn't help it. I really, really liked...what was her name? I tried to remember if Brody had told me and came up blank. "I didn't catch your name."

  Brody slapped his own forehead. "Mom, this is Cassidy Norris. Cassidy, Sasha Anderson a.k.a. Sister Sapphire." Sasha shook my hand. "It's such a pleasure."

  "That's the word I'd use, too," I told her. She smiled Brody's smile. Or was his, hers?

  "This way. I just finished the sauce."

  "May I clean up first?" I asked.

  "Oh sure. Brody, show her to the bathroom, please." Without saying a word, he led me to a gorgeous bath with modern everything. I got rid of him, shut the door, and looked in the mirror.

  "Oh God," I groaned, taking in my trip-wrinkled, ill fitting clothing, and my tangled hair, not to mention my face, which hadn't seen make-up in over a week. I repaired what I could, promising myself I'd do better later. How I wished for my credit card.

  I felt almost human as I followed the sound of voic
es and found myself in the kitchen. Sasha handed me food. The spicy scent of it made my stomach growl.

  "My sauce is Brody's favorite," she told me. It took one dip of a cheesy quesadilla triangle for it to be my favorite, too. "Oh my God."

  "My mom can cook," said Brody.

  I could only agree.

  "So tell me everything," said Sasha.

  While her son filled her in on details of the kidnapping and rescue, I let my gaze wander the room. The sunflower motif gave the area a cheerful, homey feel. I took note of the appliances, which looked new and expensive, and wondered if their only income was her readings. I also thought about Brody's dad. Had Brody ever visited the prison?

  Still so much to learn about the boy I loved.

  The best part about dinner was watching Brody and Sasha interact. The love they shared opened my eyes to truths I'd denied before now. My parents had never looked at me that way. Not that they hated me or anything. They didn't. What they did do was tolerate my existence and give me the material things I needed to live a life that ran parallel to, but never really intersected with, theirs. In other words, they did their duty as parents without a shred of honest affection.

  Suddenly it was all too much. To keep from breaking into self-pity boo-hoos that would destroy the happy mood, I excused myself, went to the bathroom, and locked the door. There I stared at myself in the mirror, this time without seeing the outside. Instead, I looked into my own eyes and caught a glimpse of the desperate girl inside. I thought of everything I'd ever done to get my parents' attention—all those A’s I'd crammed for, the boring extracurricular activities meant to impress, even the college I'd chosen. I couldn't remember the last time I'd made a decision without considering the impact it would have on my mom and dad. And the thing was...they usually didn't even notice. Maybe I should've tried getting into trouble as Brody had done.

  "Hey. You okay in there?"

  Actually, I realized as I continued to mull over past actions, volunteering at the Adult Learning Center had been a decision made from the heart. One that I couldn't regret. Too bad, I'd only done it for one night. The idea of helping people learn really appealed to me.

  Knock. Knock . "Cass?"

  Did that mean I'd picked the wrong major? Probably. And what could be worse than four long years of studying stuff I didn't give a crap about? Especially since my parents probably wouldn't be any more impressed with that degree than one in business or graphic arts or even home economics.

  Bang. Bang. "Cassidy!"

  Brody rattled the doorknob so loudly I jumped.

  Yikes.

  I swiped away stray tears, ditched my pity party, and yanked open the door. Brody stumbled into the room.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  He straightened up. His gaze swept my face. "Mom said you needed me."

  Smart woman. Without answering, I stepped close and wrapped my arms around his waist in a very tight hug. He hugged me right back for several seconds before curiosity got the best of him.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Everything just caught up with me."

  "Oh. Then you should go straight to bed. Mom will have something you can sleep in."

  I didn't argue. That plan would give Brody and Sasha alone time I thought they needed. Besides, I really was exhausted. Sasha loaned me a sleep shirt and clean undies. I bathed and crawled into a bed in one of the three bedrooms on the second floor. Brody told me he'd be just down the hall. For the longest time, I just lay there, staring out the window next to the bed. The sky grew darker by the minute. Stars popped out one by one. A full moon rose.

  My bed, though comfortable, didn't feel quite right. I finally realized it was because Brody wasn't in it. With a wistful sigh, I turned my back to the night and closed my eyes.

  When I woke from a crazy dream some time later, I couldn't figure out where I was for a few seconds. Then I remembered and looked at the clock: 2 a.m. I suddenly needed the reassurance of Brody's presence in that big ol' house, so got up and tiptoed down the hall to the room that used to be his. But he wasn't in his bed. Since I could see a light downstairs, I headed that way, expecting to find him raiding the fridge or something.

  But I didn't find Brody. I found Sasha.

  "Need something, sweetie?" She had a bottle of Tums in her hand.

  "Some one, actually. Brody." Too late, I realized how that probably sounded. I felt my cheeks heat.

  Sasha just laughed. "I think the full moon was calling his name."

  "So you know about the wolf thing. But of course, you do. You know everything."

  "Not everything. Just selected bits and pieces of information that come my way, most often about people I've never met. Some of it I can use. Some, I can't. As for the wolf thing, Brody told me about it after you went to bed. I could tell that something about him was different—something beyond finding the love of his life at nineteen, which I predicted, by the way.” She smiled. “I had no idea it was something that crazy." I was the love of Brody's life? For several seconds, I just looked at Sasha and wondered if that were true. I also wondered how on earth she could take the news that her son was part wolf so calmly. But then, she was a psychic, so certainly understood that there was more out there than most people suspected.

  "Did he give you all the details of how it happens? I've been wondering."

  Sasha shook her head. "Not really. Maybe we can convince him to tell us everything tomorrow. It would be two against one. He'll have to talk."

  Good luck with that, I thought.

  She popped the antacid into her mouth and offered me the bottle.

  "No thanks. Dinner was delicious, by the way."

  "Glad you liked it."

  "Guess I'll go back to bed." I moved toward the door.

  "You're very good for him, you know."

  I turned. "What?"

  "Brody's getting his act together, and I think you have a lot to do with it."

  "Actually, I don't. Did he tell you where we met?" She shook her head.

  "At a GED prep class."

  Her eyes filled.

  "He told me he intended to get his certificate and then contact you so you'd know you hadn't raised a loser." She couldn't even speak. Clearly, this had never been part of the bits and pieces of knowledge she gathered on a daily basis.

  "Thanks for sharing that."

  "You're welcome." With a nod, I left her and went upstairs to my borrowed bed. I lay there for a long time, wondering how it felt to be a wolf. Could Brody control his shift during the full moon? Or had his mom had it right when she said that mysterious ball of light so high in the inky sky called all the shots.

  Sometime later, I heard a creak on the stairs. I hopped right out of bed and almost crashed into Brody, who'd just reached my door.

  "You're back!" I said.

  "And you're up."

  "Yeah. Where've you been?"

  "Running."

  I stepped up close and wrapped my arms around him.

  "Watch out," he said. "I probably stink." I sniffed him up. "Actually, you smell like the night." My gaze locked with his. "And you look really wolf-y."

  "Yeah? How?"

  "I'm not sure, but it's sexy as hell."

  With an audible gulp, Brody reached back and eased my arms free. He pinned my hands to his chest, heart high. "Watch out. I'm feeling really wolf-y, too."

  "You know I don't care."

  "And you know I do."

  Damn.

  "I have a lot of questions about the full moon and stuff."

  "Can we talk tomorrow? I'm beat."

  I sighed. "Don't think I'll forget."

  He nodded, pivoted on his heel, and left me to slip into his own room. I heard the door softly shut.

  Tomorrow, then, I thought, already making a mental list of everything I wanted to know about werewolves, full moons, and anything else preternatural I could get him to share.

  Thursday morning Sasha cooked pancakes. While she transferred them from the griddle to ou
r plates, I gently turned the conversation toward last night.

  "What, exactly, does the full moon do to you?" My question earned me a secret wink from Sasha.

  "Makes me a little crazy." Brody took his plate from his mom and immediately began slathering way too much butter on his pancakes.

  "Which means...?"

  He reached for the syrup. "I really need to let off steam. So I shift and run for miles and miles."

  "Do you have Brody thoughts while you're a wolf?" asked Sasha, handing me my plate.

  "You two teaming up on me?"

  We both nodded.

  He sighed and poured thick maple syrup over his tall stack of pancakes. "Yes, I have Brody thoughts. Brody thoughts and wolf senses that bleed over into the next day."

  "So you have a heightened smell, hearing, taste—"

  "All the senses, yeah, plus a sixth that I can't really explain."

  "I don't think that sixth sense has anything to do with wolves,” I said. "I think you inherited that." He glanced at his mom, now seated across from us at the table. "Maybe."

  She just smiled.

  "Tell me about the actual shift." I reached for the butter.

  "Does it hurt?"

  "The first time was pretty scary. Since then it's been a rush."

  Hm. "And the shift back?"

  "That's a little trickier, but only because of the clothes thing. If the shift is planned, we can control where it begins and ends. If the shift is reactive—"

  "Like at the cemetery yesterday?"

  "Yeah. That's when we have to scrounge around for something to keep us from getting arrested for public indecency once we're ourselves again."

  "Kind of cramps your style, huh?" said Sasha with a chuckle. I passed her the butter.

  I eyed Brody's T-shirt, which stretched tightly over his biceps and pecs. "I like what you're wearing now." Brody looked down and grimaced. "Haven't worn this stuff since the eleventh grade. So the jeans and shirt are a little snug."

  "Exactly," I agreed, appreciatively eyeing him again. He squirmed in his chair. "Can we talk about something besides me?"

  I shook my head. "Nope. I have more questions. Can you shift when there's not a full moon?"

  "Yes," he answered around a mouthful of food. "But nonfull moon shifts—we call them NFM shifts—are different because we can't shift into our human selves for a couple of hours, give or take. Every wolf is different. And if we don't want to shift back, we don't have to. Not sure why but that's just the way it is, and that's the reason I try to keep my shifts in sync with the moon. It's just easier that way."