Hair in All the Wrong Places 2

by Andrew Buckley

  “So, Seattle,” said Becca. “Spill.”

  “We’re just going to get right to the point then?” Colin said, keenly aware that kissing wasn’t on the immediate agenda.

  Becca pursed her lips and waited patiently.

  “Okay, okay,” said Colin. He recounted the whole story from start to finish: their arrival in Seattle, tracking the Butcher, Silas getting wounded, Colin’s pursuit, the floating man, the change, no one believing him, the whole sordid affair. He finished with, “And now I’m grounded from Night Watch until Silas can convince them I’m safe to go into the outside world.”

  Becca studied her coffee thoughtfully.

  She doesn’t believe me.

  “I do believe you. And try not to think so loud,” said Becca.

  “Sorry.” Colin’s werewolf abilities allowed him to project his thoughts into certain people’s mind. Some people were more receptive than others. Becca, being a witch, picked his thoughts up easily unless he kept them guarded. It wasn’t difficult to do; Silas had taught him how. He just got lazy sometimes. He was a teenager, after all.

  “When you lost control of your senses in Seattle, was the sensation similar to when you saw Principal Sampson today?”

  Colin thought about it. It wasn’t exactly the same. But there were some similarities.

  “In Seattle, it felt like the floating man was blocking my senses. Like I’d been cut off. With Principal Sampson it was as if I couldn’t sense him at all. Like he wasn’t even there.”

  Becca wrinkled up her nose. Colin had noticed it was a habit of hers when she wasn’t happy with something.

  “It’s not exactly the same but you have to admit, they are similar,” said Becca.

  “You think the two are related?”

  “What did the floating man look like?”

  “He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties. Ruggedly handsome, if you like that sort of thing.” Colin smiled.

  “Oh, you know me. I prefer the tall, hairy types.”

  “He definitely didn’t look anything like Principal Sampson. I meant to ask Silas about it but he’s gone out of town.”

  “I know, my Dad shipped out too. I heard they took most of the soldiers. It’s a big mission.”

  Colin felt a stab of regret. He should be going with them. If things had happened differently in Seattle, he could have been off to Europe to hunt evil werewolves too.

  “Then I guess it’s up to you and me,” said Becca.

  “What? What is?”

  “We need to figure out what the deal is with Principal Sampson.”

  They left the garage and Colin walked Becca to the eastern edge of downtown. Becca lived in a stately farmhouse on the outskirts. Colin felt even more regret that tonight had featured no further kissing.

  “I can still hear your thoughts,” said Becca.

  “Aww, man. I really need to keep control of that,” said Colin, his face flushing with embarrassment.

  “It’s okay. I like kissing you too. I was thinking … ”

  Becca’s scent had shifted. She smelled nervous all of a sudden.

  Oh man, this is it. She’s going to break up with me. I knew it, stupid, stupid, stupid—

  “I heard,” said Becca, “that you’re going to be doing your monthly camping trip solo?”

  “Oh, that! Oh man, yes, that I’m doing.” Colin breathed a sigh of relief.

  Becca gave him a weird look. “Okay, well, I was thinking if you wanted some company, I could probably camp out there with you? Separate tents, obviously. And we could even bring Jeremy.”

  A hundred thoughts raced through Colin’s mind. First, camp out together. Nighttime. Alone, sort of. What about his nightly werewolf transformations? What if he couldn’t keep control? He wasn’t even sure he was going to go camping alone; he still considered just getting locked up at the base. But now, with Becca’s suggestion … ?

  Becca seemed to sense Colin’s confusion. “You don’t have to decide now,” said Becca. “Just think about it, okay?”

  Colin nodded while his head spun.

  Becca stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips, then turned and walked away. Colin listened to her footsteps disappear into the quiet of the night.

  How would that even work? Jeremy would see me turn into a werewolf. What happens if I eat Jeremy? What happens if I eat Becca?

  Colin headed back through downtown and took the main road out of Elkwood toward his house. It was after nine o’clock and the road was deserted. His werewolf senses wandered, almost on their own, while Colin was caught up in his own thoughts. He caught smells on the gentle breeze and the occasional snippet of conversation from somewhere nearby.

  And then Colin felt it. It was like a creeping sensation that ran through his whole body. Something didn’t smell right, and the sounds of the night kept fading in and out, like someone was turning the volume up and down. He started to panic and his heart rate increased.

  Oh no! Not again!

  He felt the atmosphere shift, the same way it did before it rained. The air felt heavy and Colin’s whole body began to tingle.

  The fog was dense with only the occasional streetlight shining through here and there. But Colin didn’t need the light; he could see just fine at night. There was nothing unusual around. His head swam and he began to reach for the wolf inside.

  Colin’s senses snapped back and he could instantly hear normally again.

  What is wrong with me?

  Frustrated, Colin turned to continue home, resolving to write down everything that had happened, and almost ran straight into Principal Sampson.

  “Oh my!” said Principal Sampson.

  “Oh, uh, ah, hi.” Colin was at a loss for words.

  The jolly little man beamed at him. “Mr. Strauss, isn’t it?”

  “Uh, yeah,” said Colin. He couldn’t smell the man at all, and he hadn’t heard him approach.

  How is that even possible?

  He looked exactly as he had earlier at the school when Varson introduced him. Same suit, same red cheeks, same bald head.

  “Oh good, excellent,” said Principal Sampson, slowly edging his way around Colin as if he was deathly afraid of being touched. “I was just out for a nighttime walk, getting the lay of the land.” He chuckled. “I look forward to seeing more of you at school! Have a good night, young sir!”

  Colin watched as the new school principal walked back toward town and disappeared into the fog.

  Fear crawled down Colin’s spine.

  This can’t all be a coincidence!

  First Seattle, then the new principal shows up, then tonight’s weird events, and he’s here again.

  No heartbeat. And the man gave off no scent. Most disturbingly, his footsteps made absolutely no sound.

  It was as if he weren’t there at all.

  Principal Sampson wasn’t human. And he wasn’t the same as any of the other freaks in Elkwood. Which raised one very disturbing question …

  Who, or what, is Principal Sampson?

  Chapter Five

  It’s 3:00 a.m. Do You Know Where Your Demon Is?

  Despite the unusual events of the day, Colin fell asleep quickly. Curled up at the end of his bed, he dreamed of an old female werewolf who couldn’t control her changes. She lived a long time ago, in France. The dream was Colin’s worst fear: not being able to control when the transformations happened and attacking people at will.

  In his dream, Colin always saw everything from the werewolf’s point of view. He could feel the fear and helplessness as she fought against the change but, in the end, the werewolf inside was too strong. It was hungry. And it didn’t care who or what it ate. She was running, hunting a scared peasant man who was fleeing and shouting something in French. He smelled scared. His scent shifted abruptly and instead he smelled of burnt meat. There was a blood-curdling scream but it wasn’t in Colin’s dream.

  His eyes snapped open. He could still smel
l burning meat, like something was being overcooked, as the scream died down. Colin sensed danger. He didn’t hesitate. He let the change rush through him, his growing form filling his bedroom as hair exploded from every pore and his enlarged bones shifted neatly into their new positions. Muscles flexed and his senses swam, fixing themselves on the source of the smell and the scream that had woken him.

  It was Charles, the demon, floating in the middle of the room. Charles was referred to on the base as the Soothsayer; his gifts included being able to see glimpses of potential futures.

  Charles wasn’t pleasant to look at. He was a hideous creature with horribly burned skin, two small horns protruding from the top of his head, and eyes that were nothing more than dark, empty sockets. His pointy black teeth were bared as if he was growling at something, but whatever was troubling him, it wasn’t Colin.

  The demon was staring at the corner of the room and Colin suspected that Charles wasn’t reacting to his dirty laundry hamper. Sure, the smell wasn’t great, but hardly worth a blood-curdling scream.

  “Charles.” It was tricky for Colin to speak while in wolf form and his words came out slowly in a deep growl.

  The demon looked around startled, as if realizing where he was. He seemed out of breath and … scared?

  Do demons get scared?

  “Colin Strauss! He’s coming! He’s here!” said the demon frantically, his sharp, raspy voice filling the room.

  “Who?” barked Colin.

  Charles’s whole body flickered and faded and then he was solid again.

  “I don’t have much time,” said Charles. “He’s using a hellstone. You have to stop him! Free the imprisoned. Save Elkwood!”

  Charles let out another shriek. The demon looked to be in terrible pain as his shape shimmered and shifted and then exploded in a cloud of black smoke that filled the room and then vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

  There was no trace to suggest there had ever been a former resident of Hell floating in his room.

  What had Charles meant? Who was coming? What was a hellstone?

  Colin’s bedroom door burst open and thunder rolled overhead. Colin’s grandmother, hair wildly askew, stood in his doorway dressed in a pastel-colored floral nightie. Her white eyes crackled with electricity.

  “What in the blue blazes is going on in here?” she shouted. “I’m trying to sleep and you’re shrieking like a demon and shaking the house!”

  Colin quickly pictured himself as a human and felt the power flee his body as he shrank down from a huge, hulking wolf beast. He grabbed the blanket from his bed and covered himself.

  “Uh, well—”

  “I don’t want your excuses! I want a quiet house! And a good night’s sleep without being woken up by intrusive floating demons or my werewolf Grandson clawing at the walls!”

  “But Gran—”

  Thunder rolled again and the glass in the windowpanes shook slightly.

  “Goodnight!” the old witch said, and slammed his door closed.

  Colin settled onto his bed and grabbed one of his notebooks and quickly scribbled down what Charles had said, writing a note beside each item:

  He’s using a hellstone—What’s a hellstone?

  You have to stop him—Who? Principal Sampson? Floating Man from Seattle? Someone else?

  Free the imprisoned—??

  Save Elkwood—How? From what?

  He placed the notepad back on his bedside table and curled up at the bottom of his bed. Colin tried to go back to sleep but couldn’t. Charles’s words echoed through his mind. With Silas gone, he wasn’t even sure who to talk to.

  Becca will know what to do.

  He tried calling her cell phone but there was no answer. Just a flat, no-nonsense voice recording saying, “Leave a message, or don’t. I don’t care.”

  He sent her a text.

  Colin: U up? We got a problem. Need 2 talk. Now. Urgent. Like really urgent. Not joking. Vry serious.

  He waited ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Thirty.

  His alarm clock blinked 2:00 a.m. at him.

  Once, not that long ago, Becca had broken into Colin’s house to recruit him for a crazy nighttime excursion.

  Colin decided it was time to return the favor.

  ***

  Not wanting to wake his grandmother again, Colin slid open his bedroom window and leapt to the ground, landing lightly in a crouch. He pulled his hoodie up over his head and broke into a run. Colin figured taking the long way around town made the most sense and would help him avoid any unfortunate encounters. The last thing he wanted was to run into Mr. Sampson again.

  Looping around the outside of town, across the football field behind the school, and through the edge of Elkwood Forest brought Colin to the moors. The Emerson Family Farm sat on a large property at the center of the moors, edged in on either side by misty, rolling hills. Colin wasn’t even remotely out of breath. He really wanted to turn into a wolf, but assuming the form of a large, hairy beast didn’t seem like the best way to sneak into a house. He leapt the small stone wall and ran into the swirling mists of the moors. The scents of the night floated to him—animals, wet grass, the occasional cow. Colin remembered all the smells in Seattle and part of him pined to feel those sensations again. He had to get back on the Night Watch team—he just had to.

  Focus, Colin. Stay on track.

  The moon shone briefly through the clouds, reminding Colin he was only a few short nights away from his uncontrollable change. In three nights, during the full moon, he was going to turn into a werewolf whether he wanted to or not. He pushed the thought away and concentrated on the task at hand.

  Colin skidded to a stop as the dark shadow of Becca’s house loomed out of the mist. The Emerson’s house was an old stone building that was far too big for Mr. and Mrs. Emerson, and Becca. It had at least six bedrooms, a large study, a library, and entirely too many bathrooms. It had belonged to one of the founding fathers of Elkwood who, as Colin had learned from the archives at the base, had actually been some sort of a half tree creature. Becca hated the size of the house; she always felt like she was drowning in the emptiness.

  Colin located her bedroom window on the south side of the house and realized this was as far as he’d planned. He could hear the gentle rhythm of Becca’s breathing as she slept, and further into the house, impossible to ignore, was the loud snoring of Mrs. Emerson. Colin was thankful Mr. Emerson had left with Silas; at least he didn’t have to worry about anyone shooting at him.

  Now how do I get in?

  When Becca had broken into Colin’s house, she’d used the patio door at the back of the house. The Emersons’ home had no patio doors. He tried the front door but it was locked. He went around the house and tried the back door when he caught a scent. Something angry and old, and then heard the growl.

  The Emersons’ guard dog, Bartholomew, lurched out of his doghouse in the back garden. The old dog, an Irish wolfhound, moved low to the ground and stalked toward Colin before stopping and raising his head. He sniffed the air, whimpered, and scurried back into his doghouse.

  This was the natural effect Colin now had on dogs since becoming a werewolf. Which was a shame as Colin loved dogs, but they were all deathly afraid of him. No matter how many he encountered, they all immediately recognized that Colin was a much bigger, much more dangerous canine and should be avoided at all costs.

  Colin leapt from the ground to the roof and looked for a skylight but found nothing. He leapt high into the sky, clearing the edge of the roof, and landed back on the south side of the house. He picked up some small rocks.

  Just a few light taps, something to wake her up.

  He judged the distance and the force required, and gently threw the first rock at Becca’s window. The rock flew through the window like a bullet, putting a perfect hole through the glass.

  Oops.

  He heard Becca’s heart rate increase and saw her bedroom light turn on. S
he slid open the window and leaned out. She was wearing a set of flannel pajamas and a sleeping mask sitting slightly askew on her forehead, which she fumbled with pulling it off as she approached the window.

  “Becca,” said Colin. “It’s me!”

  “Colin? Why did you—? How—? What are you doing here?”

  “Step back, I’m coming up.”

  Colin effortlessly leapt from the ground to her window ledge and perched there until she backed away so he could climb in through the window.

  “Sorry about the window,” said Colin.

  “Is my Mom still asleep?” asked Becca, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  Colin could hear Mrs. Emerson’s rhythmic snoring a few rooms over.

  “Yes, and snoring loudly. Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

  Becca waved her hand dismissively. “Remember I said I’d been having deep sleeps? I asked your grandmother about it. She says it might have something to do with my powers as a witch developing. She says magic requires balance. Apparently I might be cursed to be really tired for, ya know, ever.”

  Becca slumped down on her bed. Colin was about to try comforting her when he suddenly found himself very aware that he was standing in his girlfriend’s bedroom.

  He’d only been in the Emersons’ house once before, when Becca had convinced her father to allow Colin over for dinner. It was nothing short of a disaster. Although Mrs. Emerson was quite delightful, Mr. Emerson spent the whole time monitoring Colin, and Colin in turn kept a watchful eye (and nose) on Mr. Emerson in case he tried any funny business. Colin remembered all too well the time Mr. Emerson had tranquilized him and given him a drug that prevented him from changing into a werewolf for a short period of time. Maybe it was because werewolves were still new to Elkwood or maybe it was because Colin had knocked out Mr. Emerson with a single punch. Whatever the reason, it seemed unlikely that Becca’s dad would ever see Colin as anything other than a dangerous creature.

  After the dinner, Becca had decided that they should probably just spend time together away from the Emerson household. Consequently, Colin had never been in Becca’s room. It was all a bit of a surprise. Not that he was standing there, but that the room looked so … what was the word?