The Reluctant

by Aila Cline

  “Yes, and I think that all trash should be kept outside to let the rats gnaw on it,” Anya snapped.

  A series of growls erupted and the tension in the room thickened until it made my skin crawl. A few of the Lycanthrope held tightly to their Lycanti mates. At this point, I was glad that these Changelings had Masters to control them.

  “Anya,” Raníer growled deeply. “You will apologize.”

  She crossed her arms and raised her chin. “I will do no such thing.”

  His blue eyes met hers in a clash of wills of the like that I had never seen. It was like two pools of liquid blue flame had ignited right there in front of me.

  “We are guests in this house. Our host’s own son is Lycanti. You will apologize.”

  “I will apologize to the Lycanti, for they are my brothers and sisters and deserve an equally honorable mention in our line,” she said in a soothing, manipulative tongue that considerably cooled tempers in the room. “I will not apologize to the human.”

  Raníer knew that he had stretched the limit by asking her to do so. He turned to me. “I am sorry, Emily. My daughter is young and rash. Even in thirty-six years she has not learned to control her tongue.” He glared at her. “One day it will get her killed.”

  I nodded silently. I felt I had nothing to say that anyone wanted to hear anyway. The old hippie slogan of “Can’t we all just get along?” would not work here.

  He looked at Will with regret in his eyes. “Do not bring the human.”

  Will shot a quick glance at me, then looked back to Raníer. “I will not leave her.”

  “Then you will not attend. I will give your regards to your mother. She will see you after.”

  Will stood there in silence, gripping my hand as both Lycanti and Lycanthrope left us standing in the foyer without a further word. Even Anya did no more than scowl at Will as she passed.

  Will kissed me softly on the neck. “Drink your wine,” he whispered. “The Clan loves tradition. They have a hard time accepting new things, but don’t worry. They will accept you.”

  I appreciated his attempts to console me. Unfortunately, I could not help but wonder if his words were just empty wisps of optimistic hope.

  Will

  It took a year of hunting together for Luka to trust me enough to meet Shasta.

  “She is too good for me,” he’d joke. “Gods help my self-esteem if she wants you instead!”

  His fears were completely unfounded, because when I met her, I could not imagine a more perfect couple. They even looked right together. They were always smiling, never arguing, and could not keep their hands off each other. I was jealous, but Brooke and I had become something of an item. It was more from familiarity that I sought her out—a relic of my former life that I could use to feel halfway normal again, even pretending we were human and just having fun like old times. But when I saw Shasta and Luka together, I knew that Brooke was not what I wanted. By this time, I had finished my education. I wanted someone to love me like Shasta loved Luka, not use me for her own selfish purposes. So I called it quits with Brooke, physically and emotionally. She didn’t take it well—obviously.

  She’d stalk me, pouncing on me at inopportune moments trying to arouse me and get me to sleep with her again. I wouldn’t. I would sooner go to my mother’s clan and have a mate forced on me, I told her. That enraged her even further, and her motives turned venomous.

  Shasta was still human at this point, but she wanted the Change. She had a great amount of self control as a human, and Luka thought she could handle our life. And they wanted children. Luka has several sisters and his family means everything to him. I did not grow up in the Clan, but he did, and he loves all of them as if they are all immediate family. As a pure blood, he had the right to Change Shasta at any time without the approval of the Council. So they decided the third week in May would suffice at the next full moon.

  He warned her it would hurt, and she admitted a fear of the pain. That was how Brooke got to her. Luka took great pains to keep Shasta’s existence secret from the Lycanti for the very reason I keep you from them. As the only two males in the area, female Changelings seek us out continually, wanting our protection for assimilation back into the Clan. Knowing that these women had killed their previous mates made them instantly undesirable to me. I am not a suicidal lover, no matter how beautiful the bait may be. Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to you. I guess your innocence appealed to me that night in the park. I feel like you’d never hurt me. I feel selfish mostly, since this our relationship seems to be from self preservation in this sense.

  Brooke, however, would kill anyone who got in her way. I think she instinctively knew that the angelic perfection of Shasta made me wary of her own unscrupulous ways; therefore, she sought to destroy Shasta. Not only destroy her, but turn her into something that Luka could never love.

  Unfortunately, we will never know the truth of what happened that night unless Brooke decides to tell us. Even as the best friend, I did not attend their ceremony since it is usually a sexual event with the swapping of body fluids acting as the catalyst for the Change. Luka told me later about the dagger Shasta brought to the event—a small ornamental dagger that would blunt the pain according to a wise woman. He used it at her request to give her comfort. When I saw that dagger, I was catapulted back to my own Change. The best I can figure is that Brooke laced it with poison and Shasta was dead before Luka tried to Change her. The Change has to happen at that pivotal moment between life and death. Luka did not expect her to slip away so quickly; he wanted her to experience the euphoria of bleeding to death slowly. When he tried to heal her with his fluids, she did not awake ravenous for the warmth of his flesh. She awoke craving the salt of his blood. He fought her off and she fled—and it broke his heart and left him carrying the guilt of her botched Change all these years.

  He gets better every year, but he keeps that dagger by his bed to remind him of how he lost Shasta. Even in my painful and blurry human memories, I remember the professor slashing my throat with that small knife. I will never tell Luka; he would kill Brooke and then regret it. He needs no more burdens on his soul.

  Besides, I want that pleasure for myself. Because of her, the one thing in my life that could have been ideal has been shattered. Luka mourns Shasta, and I mourn the loss of his happiness. He has not been the same since losing Shasta, although I seem him smile and banter with you, and it reminds me of the old him.

  What is there for me if my best friend cannot be happy?

  Emily

  The small crowd filed out of the private audience chamber that Will and I had been excluded from. I noticed again how elegantly everyone dressed and thought for the umpteenth time how stupid I had been to wear my jeans. But Will, too, had forsaken the black tie affair and wore a nice pair of slacks and a button down shirt. After all, he had reasoned while dressing in the hotel earlier, he had already been to a previous Bonding of his mother’s that had been an even ritzier ceremony and ended just a few nights later in disaster. He also gave me a bit of history about his father. Why get all dressed up if she was just going to kill the guy accidentally on purpose—again?

  I had no desire to be there, and honestly, I felt a bit piqued that I was there at all. We escaped the heavy atmosphere of exclusion on a balcony.

  “A Bonding is a beautiful ceremony. I hate that you missed it,” Will said while kissing me and playing with my hair. I relaxed instantly. Only he could soothe me in such a manner.

  “I didn’t wanna watch a bunch of werewolves getting all misty eyed anyway,” I grumbled playfully.

  “We’re not werewolves,” he chastised me delicately. We had had this discussion before.

  “By what standard? I still don’t understand.”

  “We are completely human most of the time.”

  “So are the werewolves in the movies.”

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “That word is offensive here.”

  “That proves even more that she should not be here,�
�� came a voice from behind us. We turned to face the noxious Anya. “She just told you she doesn’t understand. Obviously, she is just another stupid human.”

  I felt the heat start in my stomach and work its way to my throat. “I am not stupid,” I spat.

  Anya laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “All humans are stupid. That is why you allow yourselves to be slaughtered like foolish vacas.”

  I felt like I would begin steaming in a moment. “Arrogant polyglot werewolves. You think you’re so much better than everyone.”

  “We are Lycanthrope,” she stated. “We are better. We have rights over people like you.”

  I turned to Will, frustrated and looking for help. His eyes had turned into hardened flakes of bright green.

  “She did not grow up like you,” he said through gritted teeth. “Neither did I for that matter. Your father does not grudge us for our previous lives. There’s no need to be so rude, Anya.”

  “There’s every need,” Anya snapped. “You brought a bag of meat and you didn’t even have the good manners to kill it first. Now I’ll have to get blood under my nails.”

  With a bellow, Will transformed and leapt. It happened so quickly, so suddenly, that I did not even realize that the creature ripping into Anya’s face was him. She must not have saw it coming either, underestimating his protectiveness of me, for the only defense she offered was her inadequate hands. His horrifying, bear-like appearance disturbed me, especially with a blood-covered snout. A burbling scream came from the remnants of Anya’s head before he crushed her skull with his massive jaws. On two legs, hunched over his kill, Will’s glowing green eyes traveled slowly around the room. Dropping to all fours, he growled a challenge at the remaining spectators before returning to my side. I had just seen the quick, merciless attack of a Slayer.

  I looked from him, to the corpse on the floor, to Raníer. None of the others looked more than inconvenienced by the body, although a few nostrils quivered at the scent of blood. My gaze found one young man staring intently at Anya. I watched his eyes darken with hunger as bits of brain leaked out of her head. I felt sick. They bits of grey brain looked like the paté they had served earlier.

  “Excuse me,” the young man muttered, clutching his nose and leaving the room in a hurry.

  Raníer’s attitude was different though. He fixated on Will with those now merciless blue eyes and growled—a low, deep growl that I felt in my chest from fifteen feet away. Will answered the challenge with an intense rumble of his own. I saw Raníer jerk forward, but strong hands of the Mexican clan held him back. Will held his ground over the corpse.

  I stood transfixed. The tableau in front of me had started to move again; I could hear the others start to chatter and shuffle, but my eyes kept straying to Will’s victim. I’d never seen him kill. The idea was abstract to me. The Lycanti seemed unmoved by the violence. I, on the other hand, stood like an extra furnishing in the room, a distasteful piece that no one knew what to do with, horrified by the blood in the air. They had pulled a struggling Raníer out of the room, determined to keep him from Will. After all, this was not Raníer’s clan—it claimed Will as one of their own, and his mother was one of its elders, one of greater status than Raníer at any rate.

  The conversations bouncing around did not include me, most were not even in my language, and it would be a good while before Will Changed back. The dreadfulness was all I could focus on. I swallowed deeply; the smell of blood overwhelmed me. I had to leave, had to get away from the stench. Suddenly, Will licked my hand, and that drew my attention away from the body. He sat beside me, just as he had stood, my guardian Slayer in a room full of less-talented killers. He had been trained to kill by one of the best and for that they kept a respectful distance; the only one they feared more was Luka.

  Then, the tones in the room thickened. Even the nonchalant observers of Anya’s death became nervous. People filed out slowly. My translator sat next to me on the floor as a beautiful brown wolf, so I stood there awkwardly, wondering if I should follow. Suddenly a woman’s voice called back clearly, dismissively, “Send someone to clean that up, human.”

  Will bristled at my side, but I put my hand on his head. There had been enough bloodshed that night, and Luka’s own sister at that! The warm fur felt solid, real, ludicrously soft on such a beast—almost like the irony of artistically-cultured killers. With a dry mouth, I suddenly realized that everyone else in the room had been thinking similar thoughts of how I would make a better appetizer than guest. Anya had said it aloud and died for it. My mind wandered back to California and what action family-rooted Luka would take once he found out one of his precious sisters had been killed by his best friend, and could I stop him if he came for my Will?

  Will

  I remember when my mother used to take me swimming at the public pool. Maria is a beautiful woman and men usually fall over themselves trying to impress her. Of course they do not realize that she can practically control them with the chemicals of her body without her beauty. She would flirt with them, taking them home with us sometimes, only to use them and cast them aside. I understand now why she never got close to any of them, but as a boy, I wanted a father. I wanted someone who would play football with me and teach me to shave. I wanted to be a man, and I felt that a woman could teach me nothing about my role in life.

  I never wondered why she didn’t have to work. I took it for granted that my mother was home when I needed her and she always would be. The Clan sent her money to live and for my school. Cerritos charged a hefty tuition, but once again, as a sheltered child, I had no idea of these things. I knew that I was loved and protected, and that we went to Mexico once a year and that still, after all these years, I had no father.

  Will you remarry? I continually asked her. She always told me no.

  A year after high school, she summoned me to Mexico for her second Bonding. I had to watch as a man took my mother as his own. A bit Oedipal, but beautiful nonetheless. You pledge yourself with a blood oath; there is nothing stronger in our world, for if you break it, the Clan will hunt you. I know you must think that they send Luka and me to hunt down our own family for the thrill of it, but that is not true. Lycanthrope are actually very loyal creatures, loving intensely for many years. Clan marriages are generally for life. The Lycanti are the ones who throw the balance off. They are never satisfied. Perhaps this does not bode well for our relationship, but I think that you and I are devoted enough to one another to overcome that recklessness.

  My mother’s second Bonded was Lycanti. She Changed him, just as she did my father, but he took another lover. A woman may not crave another man while she is mated to him, but a man has no such restrictions. And Lycanti, especially, tend to lack the loyalty of the Lycanthrope. Sadly, it is a quality lost in the Change for most. But some Lycanthrope like my mother remain desperately steadfast, and in her case, possessive. I must admit that I feel that way over you sometimes, especially when I see you so at ease with Luka, but seeing the misery it has brought to my mother makes me want for you and Luka to be friends even more. You deserve such a good friend, especially someone as trustworthy as Luka.

  When the Lycanti’s interest strayed less than a week after the marriage, she needed no help from me to hunt him. She has made it to her age for a reason: she is deadly when provoked. She might have killed my father in a mating by accident, but when she finished with the deceitful Lycanti, he could not be claimed as wolf or human.

  So we will go to Mexico to honor her Bonding, but I fear for her new husband. She seems to have horrible and transient taste in men. I am encouraged only by the fact that this new one is Lycanthrope. He will be able to control his passions better than her previous husband.

  And you need to see it, to see the love and trust that exists between a Bonded couple. Even I need to see it, so that I will know how to treat you that night.

  Emily

  “Stay here,” Will said, grabbing his light jacket. “I’m going to see my mother to wish her
well and ask her about your Change. We’ll leave tonight if we can.”

  For once, I did not argue with his reference to something I did not want, so thankful was I that we might actually leave soon.

  “Don’t leave me here,” I begged. “Raníer is pissed!”

  Will shook his head. “Even so, he won’t come for you, baby.”

  The implications of that statement hit me hard. “But if you don’t come back, Will, think about what would happen to me.”

  That made him pause. Every movement became tense and worried.

  “Please, Will?” I allowed a bit of desperation to leak into my voice.

  He considered for a long moment; I could practically see the wheels moving behind his eyes.

  “No,” he said halfheartedly. “I can’t take you. Trust me. I will come back to you.”

  And I did trust him, damn it. That would be my downfall. I trusted him implicitly and without question. He kissed me hard then. As he pulled back he looked at me as if he would never see me again.

  “I love you, Emily.”

  I looked up like a startled doe. I felt dizzy. No man had ever said those words to me with such passion. I could not even return the sentiments due to being so overwhelmed.

  He smiled at my reaction, obviously pleased by it. He kissed me swiftly on the cheek and left the hotel room in a hurry, as if the electricity between us would be stifled if he stayed and pursued it. Cool relief swept over my body. Too many emotions had pounded through me that day, and I was truly exhausted. Maybe it was a good thing Will left for a while and we weren’t staying in his mother’s huge house, though she had insisted. I could get some sleep without being worried about ending up as a side item served with red wine and a nice, brisk salad.