Masked SheWolf

by Yara Gharios

  "Some brothers you guys are," Daniel whines. Seriously; what a baby!

  "It was your decision to make Mickey the target for War Day," he points out. "Live with it. You know he always comes back swinging. Or were you not there when he almost broke me and Andrea up yesterday?"

  "How's that going by the way?" I casually ask. "Did she take you back? Are you done groveling and begging yet?"

  Connor shrugs with a mischievous grin on his face. "I didn't need to; I convinced her it was a prank, courtesy of my baby brother."

  We don't say anything for a couple of seconds. I think that's the longest we've ever been quiet during the morning car ride. Then something unpleasant settles in the pit of my stomach and I feel it growing to the surface, even though I don't know what's going on, yet.

  "What did you do?" I demand, making each word sound like a separate sentence.

  "I introduced her to your girlfriend," he teased.

  Now I know what the feeling in the pit of my stomach is; anger. There's some embarrassment in there, too, at the concept of me having a girlfriend, but mostly anger. I don't say anything, though, because I know that whatever I come up with is going to be countered by his indifference. That's the most effective way he knows to get on my nerves. Instead, I wait for the opportune moment and let my brothers bash him out in the meantime.

  "Dude, that is just wrong," Danny is the first to defend me, even though I just broke his nose. What can I say? Twins always got each other's backs. "You can't choose for Mickey to have a girlfriend when you want him to."

  "And yet, I did," he replies, completely carelessly.

  "What if Andrea came and asked him about this imaginary girlfriend?" Nate adds in a rare moment of normal intelligence

  Connor shrugs, although he looks a bit uncomfortable now. "Not my problem."

  "Didn't you think about how this would affect Dylan's secret?" Mason protests, and he sounds almost mad. "That was a really stupid thing to do. Dad will bite your head off when he finds out."

  This is apparently something Connor didn't think about. "You can't tell Dad."

  "Why not?" I interject, and I put as much venom in my voice as I can muster. "It's the four of us against you."

  For a moment, he takes his eyes off the road to look at me, and I can see genuine regret flash in his eyes. "Look, Dylan, I'm sorry, okay? You're right, just please don't tell Dad, I'll do anything," he rushes out.

  And there is the opportune moment I was waiting for. "Anything?"

  "Yes," he doesn't hesitate to repeat.

  "Alright, then listen up, all of you," I start. "Aside from the obvious fact of having to fix this with Andrea, my target is Connor, but you are not allowed to retaliate."

  I guess I should explain how War Day works. It's pretty simple; there's a target every week that all the others play pranks on every Sunday. He has all week to retaliate and chose the next target. Since I was yesterday's victim, I am the one who chooses whose turn is next. We used to sometimes pick the same person as the target repetitively, so we came up with a general rule that we can't be picked more than once a month.

  So now, because of what he did to Burns and because of how he got out of my counter-attack, I want Connor to be next week's victim. Nobody can object; it's my choice.

  "That's only fair," Mase agrees.

  "Yeah, Con, I mean you basically retaliated against his counter-attack, and that's not allowed," Nate reminds him.

  "Alright, I get it," Connor stops them. "It was a low move. I won't retaliate when you guys gang up on me."

  This is what I love about our brotherly bond; we fight all the time, we humiliate each other practically every day, but we always respect each other's boundaries. Most importantly, though, we have each other's backs, even if it doesn't always seem like it. Once, in the ninth grade, this guy thought I was hitting on his girl and cornered me after school for a fight.

  I was alright taking him on; I may look like a scrawny guy on the outside, but I’m stronger than I appear, even for a werewolf. I mean, I can beat my brothers in a one-on-one wrestling match, I definitely would have won against some human. But he brought with him three of his friends, and that was about two more than I could handle at the time.

  Connor had already graduated, but he had been the designated driver since getting his license. It was after school, so he was parked there waiting for Danny and me. He saw the guys corner me, called our brothers, and rushed to my side. Those guys got their asses handed to them, although we tried to take it easy on them and not inflict any permanent damage. They haven't bothered me since.

  A couple of seconds pass in silence, and then we continue talking when Danny complains about his nose one more time.

  "People are going to notice," he whines, "if I come in with a broken nose and miraculously heal an hour later!"

  I grunt in annoyance. "Just take cover and avoid face to face confrontations until second period," I tell him. "You'll be fine. I do this all the time when I'm not in the mood to fix my voice."

  Being a girl disguised as a boy is really rough. There are a lot of manners of walking and talking that I have to pay attention to. There are some perks, like never shaving or going anywhere near my eyebrows or nails, all of which I think are a waste of time that could be better spent doing something productive, like planning my next prank. But the downsides are still hard to deal with, even though I’ve gotten used to keeping my mask on without thinking about it.

  One thing my parents were really scared would expose my secret by the time I hit puberty, besides the obvious physical thing that we’ve found a way to hide, is my voice. Luckily, it’s kind of hoarse and throaty for a girl, which means that if I constantly speak at a low volume, I sound like a young boy whose voice is just starting to deepen. It also means that my singing is awesome, but that's not important right now.

  Considering the fact that I tend to speak loudly when I'm worked up, something that happens quite easily, there is a bit of a challenge there. Sometimes, I don't even have the energy to conjure up my guy voice, so I just avoid speaking altogether. It gets rude often, but I don't really care. It's not like any of the people I offend are my friends. The only kids I hang out with at school are Danny and his friends, and they know enough to leave me alone if I don't want to talk.

  "We're here," Mason announces with excitement. "I call shotgun!"

  "Oh come on!" Nate protests.

  Danny and I get out of the car and head to the building while the other Connolly twins continue arguing, and Connor tries to sort the situation out. Almost instantly, we're surrounded by Danny's group of friends. There's four of them; two girls and two guys, and they're all annoying in their own way. Now, normally, Danny would start up conversation with them right away and keep their attention away from me. But this time, because of his nose, he just covers it up and blurts out an excuse that leaves me alone with them.

  To be honest, I don't think they count as his friends, more like his entourage or followers. I don't believe even Danny thinks of them that way, because all he ever does with them is joke around during school hours. They don't do that much stuff together outside school, except party, but it's not like they remember what they do at those.

  My brothers are all very popular at parties, and they still get invited. I only go because they drag me with them; literally, they stuff me in the car against my will and drive off. Plus, since getting my license, they’ve been forcing me to go so I could drive them back, because none of them wants to stay sober all night.

  One of the two girls in Danny’s entourage - I could never remember her name without help - is always quiet and follows the group's move, but the other one, Nell, has been bugging me since the school year started. Danny says it's because she has a crush on me, but honestly, I don't like to analyze it. When we step out of Connor's car, she immediately grabs onto my arm and walks with me.

  The only way I can describe her is by comparing her to a Barbie doll. She adores pink because she's always wearin
g something of the color, she has cerulean blue eyes and platinum blond hair that reaches just below her shoulders, and she constantly wears a plastic smile on her face. Plus, she's always a few inches taller than me because her heels are insanely high.

  Honestly, I don't see why she bothers with me. Forget the fact that I hate the attention; she really could have any guy she wants. They all talk about her everywhere, how hot and sexy she is. Why can't she go bother one of them? At least they're her height. And her type. I'm pretty sure she's not mine.

  "Hi Michael!" she squeals. "How was your weekend?"

  "Fine," I reply shortly and pull my arm out of her vine-like grasp.

  "Yo, Michael, what's with the sour face?" one of the guys, whose name is Nico, asks with a chuckle.

  "Just had a crap morning, that's all," I say casually, moving away from Nell.

  "Oh, tell him the news!" Nell cheers excitedly. "This will cheer him up."

  I frown at her then at them. "What news? What are you talking about?"

  "There's some group that just moved into town," the tallest guy, Brad, tells me, and his expression does not show the same enthusiasm as Nell's.

  "So?" I ask, not really sure how this is news.

  "It's just weird, is all," Nico goes on. "I mean, there must be like thirty-five of them, and there’s still more coming in. Not one of them looks older than twenty-three. I think they're some sort of cult. They’re moving into the old compound at Mayor's Creek. Took up all the houses there, even the big manor at the end. "

  This earns my interest. I have my suspicion on just what kind of group these people are; the old manor Nico mentioned used to be a pack house for werewolves, but it was abandoned some twenty years ago. It's the only reason why my family brought us over here; the manor was the only werewolf refuge within a hundred miles, so we knew we wouldn’t be bothered by rogues or other packs here. It was abandoned years before we moved. Something about being forced to relocate or something, we don't really know the whole story.

  What if they decide to introduce themselves to us, or worse, kick us off the land? My family has been the only pack in the area since my mom was pregnant with Daniel and me. But we are a relatively small pack, and they greatly outnumber us. Thirty-five is already a big enough number as it is for a pack to move at once, but there’s more still coming. Either they’re really stupid and careless about getting people suspicious, or they’re a big pack who already has a lot of influence with the human authorities here.

  "So, are they settling in or something, or just staying for the summer?" I ask as casually as I can, though I'm fully aware that it's the middle of March.

  "Don't know," Brad tells me.

  "They just started coming in yesterday," Nell adds. "Nico saw them driving into town."

  I just say, "Oh. Okay," because I really don't know how to react in front of them. I need to talk to my family.

  "But anyway, that's not the news," Nico admits, and that's when he starts exhibiting enthusiasm. "Word on the street is they're throwing a party this weekend, but they're not letting anyone in."

  "Can you believe how selfish that is?" Nell indignantly protests.

  You're one to talk, I snap in my head.

  "So we're going to crash it," Nico continues as if uninterrupted. "Want to join?"

  My eyebrows shoot up and I stare at him. "You want to crash a party? A cult party?" If he really knew what kind of "cult" they are, he would not be so eager to do this.

  "Who cares? It's a party! Are you in or not?" Nico presses.

  I scoff and shake my head. "Pass."

  "What? Why?" Nell whines annoyingly and pouts.

  "Sounds exciting, really, but I don't care too much for parties," I tell them honestly. "Besides, they're probably going to be sitting around a campfire, trying to do magic or something."

  It's not that far-fetched. Werewolf packs really do have a lot of campfires, and they sometimes spend part of their night in their shifted form, unless their human mates are with them. It's one of the ways of releasing the botched up emotions they always have to keep in check lest they shift in front of humans, and it's also very healthy for their wolf side.

  This is really bad; if a new pack is going to be shifting this weekend, they could actually pick up our scent. And then what? Will they force us to leave or do the opposite and invite us to join their pack? Two separate packs have never been able to coexist in the same area without land boundaries.

  Without even giving the others an excuse, I take off in the direction of the school yard and pick up my phone to text my family.

  We need to have a family meeting.

  The minute I send the message, Dad tries calling me. I wait until the bell rings and people file in their classes before slipping away and calling him back. Mom and my brothers are all on the line with us in seconds.

  "There's nothing we can do at this point, Mickey," Dad's voice says apologetically over the phone when I tell them. "We're not even sure of anything. Maybe your friends got it wrong."

  "They're not my friends," I hiss, keeping my voice low. "But Dad, they moved into the old pack house, into the entire compound to be exact. How would you explain that? Whoever owned it still has property, because..."

  Hesitating, I break off. I'm standing inside a cubicle in the guys' bathroom. It's first period, so there's a slim chance of anyone going in, and anyway, my strong hearing would alert me if someone's approaching. But still, I always hesitate to say the "w" word in public places.

  "Because werewolves always have a backup house, we know," Mom finishes for me.

  "That doesn't mean they still do," Nathan puts in. "Maybe they sold it."

  I roll my eyes. "Seriously Nate?"

  "Mickey, nobody's been to the pack house in twenty years," Connor points out. "Why would they show up all of a sudden?"

  "I don't know," I admit. "Maybe they heard about us?"

  "They've known about us for years," Dad reminds me. "At least, their alpha does. We had to get his permission to live on their land. We signed a treaty with him."

  If it was unclaimed territory, we wouldn't have needed permission. But the land remains in their name, which means that they frequently send over scouts to check up on it and see what's happening. They would have seen us, which makes it so vital that we get their permission, or else they would have definitely chased us away.

  These days, it's impossible to find unclaimed land, so when my parents found out they were having a girl, they had to look for the one furthest away from other packs and most likely to be abandoned.

  "Well then, why didn't he tell you they were coming back?" Daniel asks in a hushed tone, I'm guessing from inside a janitor's closet.

  "We don't know that they did," Dad insists.

  It figures that my parents would freak out over the idea of me going to college, since some other pack might supposedly discover my secret. But when another pack actually moves in next to us, they're not the least bit worried. How the universe is cruel.

  "I'm with Mickey on this one," Mason says. "It seems pretty far-fetched that a pack would sell any of their houses, which means they're the only ones who would ever live there."

  "There's this thing called trespassing Mase, I think you and Nate tried it a few times," Danny throws back.

  "Boys," Dads warns.

  "In that case, who care?" Mason replies. "Trespassers are not our problem."

  "Unless they're rogue," Nate adds.

  "Boys," Dad repeats, harder this time.

  "Rogues don't travel in such numbers," Danny retorts.

  "Keep your voice down Daniel! You're at school," Mom chastises.

  "Sorry."

  "There's at least thirty-five of them; they're definitely not rogues," I interject.

  "Enough!" Dad suddenly yells, and we can all feel that this is more than just parental authority at play. His wolf is rearing its alpha head at us. We all fall quiet at the same time.

  "Michael, I'm sure your anxiety is not misplaced, but
there's no reason to be as alarmed about the situation as you are. I know the alpha personally, and he would have told me if they were coming back. Now, if the old pack is indeed back without informing us, we can sort it out. If push comes to shove and I feel like it's the best decision, we'll just move again."

  "But Dad, we're this close to graduation," I object, horrified.

  This is the only place I've ever lived in; I don't want to move. Plus, I was kind of counting on spending whatever time I have left to convince my dad to let me go to college. There's one I really want to go to, and it’s only a couple hours away, which means that I would be close. The proximity was my best argument.

  This is like my highest ambition; I can't ever imagine living as a girl, which means having my own family is out of the question, so college is kind of like the only goal for me.

  "I've made my decision, Michael," he says with finality. "Anyway, it won't come to that, because I'm sure they're not back."

  "But Dad," I try again.

  "That's enough, Dylan."

  Hearing my middle name is like a slap to the face. Usually, I like hearing it, but in this particular situation, it means that he's thinking very little of me, like I'm weak. Hurt but refusing to show it, I hang up the phone as my eyes start pricking. I'm this close to flinging my phone against the wall in frustration when I hear footsteps outside the bathroom door.

  Chapter 4

  Sadie

  Zoey is pouting a lot, recently. She’s been holing up in her room more than usual, and when she’s not, she’s always on her cell phone playing on one app or the other. Even Zack noticed her weird behavior, and he’s ten. I tried to talk to her, but she shut me out like she’s never done before, and I don’t know how to handle that.

  Mom and Dad suggested that we give her time by herself. Last week was the first time she visited Trent’s -her and my biological father- grave. Our parents thought she might want to, now that we’re moving and might not come back. It’s still too new for her, though.

  "Just worry about what you’re going to do on your first day and leave me alone," she retorts during the car ride to school when I try to get her to open up again.