by Molly Harper
With as much kindness in my voice as I could muster, I said, “Donnie, we both showed up tonight, just like we were asked to, with the best of intentions. And if this date were to end abruptly, say I didn’t come back from the restroom because I got distracted by a shiny object outside and just wandered off. You couldn’t help that, right? You tried your best. You bought me a nice dinner—”
“An appetizer.”
“You made conversation. You told me all about yourself,” I said, nodding toward the lovely lion lady. “And your interests.”
“But I saw your mama drop you off,” he objected, even as I groaned. “If you call her to take you home, they’d know we didn’t make it all the way through dinner. Your family will hear about it. My family will hear about it. I couldn’t let you take the blame for that. And I couldn’t lie to my family about what I’d done tonight.”
“You mean you couldn’t tell them that you took a pretty girl to dinner?” I asked, nodding to the bar. “Because I see a very pretty someone who would be more than happy to take my place. The trick in trying to get what you want while staying under the radar is being careful with details.”
He blinked at me rapidly, as if it had never occurred to him to be sneaky. The poor, sweet honest doofus.
“And as for blame, well, you let me worry about that. My family’s used to being disappointed,” I added.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Absolutely.” I cleared my throat. “Would you excuse me for just a second? I need to powder my nose, my face, just everything.”
“Thank you, Tylene.”
“Have a good night, Donnie.”
Pasting on a smile, I grabbed my backpack and walked toward the restrooms. That vampire boy seemed to have left, a bit of good luck I needed to get the hell out of dodge without him blocking my path. I turned abruptly, ducking around a waitress. I stopped by Mara at the bar and hugged her fiercely. She seemed prepared to take a swing at me, until I put my arms around her. She relaxed ever so slightly and patted me on the back.
“Just do whatever you can to be happy,” I whispered to her.
Without another word, I dashed out of the door, sucking air into my lungs like I’d just broken through the surface of murky, silty water. To my relief, I didn’t see my parents’ truck parked outside the restaurant. But for all my bravado with Donnie, I was frozen, completely at a loss for what to do. I couldn’t go home this early. I didn’t want to just wander around town until it was time for my mom to pick me up. (Which was, honestly, so freaking sad.) Not to mention, she was going to be furious with me for not “doing more than trying.” And that was nothing to what my family was going to do when they found out. And still, I couldn’t go back in. I just couldn’t stand it for one more minute, sitting there and acting like it was normal for two adults to be miserable because it would make everybody around them happy. I was caught between despair, knowing what was waiting for me at home, and the resentment of that being a problem in the first place…and then, maybe I was a little bit proud, because I hoped that what I had done would shake Mara and Donnie up a bit and they might pursue their own happiness. Or, I might have just led them to do something that would make their situation even worse and blown up their lives entirely.
Shit.
I scrubbed my hand through my hair. I should be a grown woman, leaving a relatively unspectacular date with minimal emotional turmoil, looking to soothe my jangled nerves with ice cream and fucking Netflix at her own apartment. And yet, here I was, unable to move because for me, a bad date could throw off my whole freaking home life. I glanced down the street and saw a familiar vehicle.
“Oh, come on.” I seethed, ducking behind the nearest truck. My aunts Braylene and Lurlene were sitting there in Braylene’s, thumbing through magazines and sipping coffee like it was a damn stakeout. Mama may not have trusted me to show up for the date, but they didn’t trust me enough to stay. They sat there outside the restaurant to make sure that I stayed for the entire date. I mean, obviously, they were right, but that was entirely beside the point.
Fortunately, the latest celebrity divorces were so fascinating that they hadn’t bothered to look up since I’d walked out. I turned, no longer frozen, and ran like I was being chased by Donnie’s mountain lion girlfriend.
7
“If your friends have been single for several centuries, consider what their relationship advice is really worth.”
—A Gentleman in Any Era: An Ancient Vampire’s Guide to Modern Relationships
* * *
I didn’t know where I was running, only that I was moving away from the restaurant, from the window where my aunts could see me fleeing. I didn’t know if they could see me. I only knew I needed to be far, far away.
Alex—I wanted Alex. I I just wanted to be somewhere I felt safe, preferably with Alex, but I didn’t want to bother him with what seemed to be an emotional breakdown. Before I knew it, I was in the library parking lot, headed for a gap in the retaining wall on the far side of the building. There was a fountain hidden inside, a sort of walled-in garden that hadn’t been maintained in years. I remember Mrs. Stubblefield saying something about liability and kids with the fountain, and probably the rotting wood of the benches.
It was beyond overgrown, every flower bed gone to seed a long time ago and completely choked with weeds. The fountain, a bronze of the Alice in Wonderland characters, was covered in a thick patina that was more neglect than art. I could tell it used to be a pretty space. A little glassed-over picture posted on the entrance sign showed a little oasis of quiet, probably meant for mothers who needed a break while their kids were attending Story Time.
For now, I was content to just sit in the dark and try to figure out what the hell I was going to say to my family. I wanted to scream at them, tell them it was none of their damn business who I dated, and they needed to just back off. I wanted to tell them I was dating someone who made me happy. And some small, frightened part of me wanted to tell them I was sorry, that I was just angry and scared and Donnie and I clearly weren’t meant for one another anyway. And I was very ashamed of that small frightened part.
It was terrifying to me, how easy it was to just say I was sorry, how appealing it was to just fall in line and try to go along. It was so unfair, to have to fight this hard just to try to live with some damn dignity.
As if on cue, my phone buzzed in my backpack. It was a text from Mama. “Where are you? Lurlene said she looked inside the restaurant and Donnie was out with some other girl! Explain yourself, right now, young lady!”
I sighed and stuck my phone back in my bag. It was immature, but I just didn’t want to deal with it. I reached into my backpack for a packet of tissues, rubbing at my eyes. Suddenly the makeup my relatives had applied felt like it was suffocating my skin. I pulled the little papers away from my face and saw thick black smudged across them. My eyes stung, hot and bright, and I could feel the drip-drip-drip of tears against my hands as they slid down my cheeks.
It was all just so stupid and pointless. Alex wouldn’t want to be with me long term. Sure, I aged slower than the average human, but I still aged. I would go through middle age, menopause, become stooped and wrinkled and he would just go on forever and ever preserved in perfection. It wasn’t like he could turn me. At least, I didn’t think he could turn me—as far as I knew, it hadn’t been tried before. He would lose interest. I would eventually find someone my family approved because not doing it meant losing my place in the pack. It was what my parents had feared my entire life. They’d always made it sound like a fate worse than hell. How was I supposed to face hell alone?
I indulged in a bit more crying. I was not proud of it, but I spent so much time actively dodging my family that I guess I hadn’t really processed how hopeless I really felt about the whole thing. Something had to change, or I was going to snap.
“Ty?”
My head whipped up at the sound of my name. Alex was standing there in the moonlight like the answer to
a wish I hadn’t even made. I wiped furiously at my cheeks, hoping I wasn’t all streaky and tragic looking.
“The library isn’t even open,” he said, walking towards me. “What are you doing back here?”
“It’s a long story,” I sniffed. For the first time that night, my smile was genuine. I stood and made myself hold absolutely still so I wouldn’t throw myself at him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, pulling me close. I buried my face in his shirt, breathing in the scent of cedar. I couldn’t answer. The tears would start all over again and that was the last thing I needed, to make the situation even worse with a red nose, swollen eyes, and runnier makeup.
His hands slid under my chin and tilted my face toward the moon. “Are you hurt? Did something happen?”
He frowned, but he didn’t flinch, so I guessed I wasn’t completely hideous. His cool hands felt so good against my flushed skin that I nuzzled my cheeks against his hands. “No, it’s more of a feelings issue. Don’t worry about it.”
“Why wouldn’t I worry about your feelings?” he asked, looking so genuinely confused by the concept that I laughed, because otherwise—red nose, swollen eyes, etc. He guided me onto the bench, sitting next to me with his arm around my waist.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
I glanced down, so I wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. “Doubtful. What are you doing here? I thought we’d agreed to avoid the library for a while.”
“Oh, I wasn’t trying to get in the library. I was in town, fetching a package from the post office—replacement supplies for the school. I picked up your scent and followed it here.”
I chuckled. “Usually that’s my line.”
“What were you doing tonight?” he asked, glancing down at my dress. “You look beautiful, if a bit uncomfortable.”
I plucked at my skirt. “I don’t usually wear dresses. I’m more of jeans and t-shirts girl.”
“Well, it looks very nice. But I like the jeans, too. I can’t help but notice you didn’t answer the question—what are you doing here?” he asked again.
“Hiding a little bit?” I offered, the corner of my mouth pulling back.
“Hiding from who?” He pulled back, holding my elbows while he looked me over for potential damages.
“No, nothing like that. I had to, I know this is going to sound lame and awful—My family set me up on a date with a werewolf,” I confessed.
“I see.” He stepped away from me slightly and I felt something in my heart crack a little bit. “Do I see?”
“There’s a lot of pressure on me to marry and have future werewolves, and this guy is considered a good candidate,” I told him.
“And—I’m sorry, I don’t know how to ask this, but was it a good date?” he asked.
“Lord, no,” I laughed. He sagged against my side. I liked to think it was relief. “I mean, he wasn’t awful or anything. I’ve known him since we were children. And he’s nice and all, but I knew there was no chance of anything. He wasn’t any happier than I was. He is definitely in love with someone else, who was also there…which sort of made it worse, and better at the same time.”
“Wait, what?”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you. I should have told them no. I should have—I should have done a lot of things,” I told him. “I went because my family wanted me to. It’s something I’m trying to change. I can’t be myself with them. Everything that makes me…me, they think is bad. Not just like, ‘morally wrong,’ but actively bad for me, like cancer bad. They spend a good amount of time trying to talk me out of being myself for my own good.”
He frowned. “I can’t say I’m thrilled about it. I don’t like the idea of you agreeing to something you don’t want to do because of your family. And to be honest, I really don’t like the idea of you being courted by someone else. Isn’t there some way you can talk to your family about this? Would they listen?”
I burst out laughing, which seemed to alarm him. Alex may have come from a family a lot like mine, but clearly, the centuries of separation from them made him forget what it was like.
“I’m sorry. No. The pack wouldn’t listen. The pack thinks of itself as a unit, what’s good for one is good for all. It’s considered selfish to put yourself ahead of that. And it’s not just our pack, that my family is thinking of, it’s a global thing. The number of werewolves who can shift is dwindling and more of us are marrying humans, which is reducing that number even more. My family clings to the way things have always been because they’re trying to protect what they know. They do it because they’re scared.”
He seemed to think about that for a long time. “Cal and Nik explained to me—that it takes a spoken agreement, a commitment for an ‘exclusive’ relationship these days. They also mentioned becoming ‘Facebook official’ and when I didn’t understand what that meant, they told me you would explain it,” he said, tilting his forehead against mine. “I want to be with you and no one else. And I would very much like it if you wanted to be with me.”
“For how long?” I asked.
“However long we can manage it,” he said. “However long you want me. Do you agree?”
“I would like that a lot,” I said. “The way I feel about you, it’s not just something that comes along so often that I can ignore it. I like you so much. I more than like you. It sounds so silly to use a word so small for what I feel for you. I’m just not ready to say I love you.”
He leaned close, pulling me into his lap and kissing me firmly. “I’ll wait.”
“If my family tries this whole set-up thing again, I’ll do whatever I can to get out of it.”
“But you can’t tell them about me, I suppose?”
I stayed silent for a long moment. “I don’t want to hurt your feelings by laughing again. No. Jolene was accepted after she married a human because her parents insisted on that acceptance. My parents? They’re so terrified that they’ll lose their place. They wouldn’t bother with any sort of defense for me. I would be disowned, tossed out. For a werewolf, that’s a terrible fate.”
He nodded. “I’m only sorry you didn’t think you could tell me. I understand what it’s like to be pressured by your family. My family wanted me to be a priest.”
I giggled. “Clearly, you went in a different direction.”
“Yes. I was the third son. And while my father had purchased a modest second estate for my brother, by the time I came along, the only options were the church or the army.”
I relaxed against him as his voice rolled over my nerves like warm honey. “How Austenian of them.”
“Well, it was several hundred years before her time, but that was how my family operated.”
“Sorry, I interrupted you. Frock or firearms, only options. Continue.”
He grinned at my airy hand wave. “You have a charming way of cutting to the heart of a matter.”
I beamed at him, which made him kiss my temple before continuing. “Well, my father was soldier, you see. He was a second son, never supposed to inherit. His elder brother died of a fever and suddenly he was the heir. Military life was good enough for him and who was I to aspire to something else? Someone had to represent the family, to lead our family’s small legion. But I had no passion for it. Fencing, riding, shooting for exercise, well, that was one thing—though I was always worried about hurting my hands, ruining my ability to play. I told him I wanted to make music my life and he laughed. It wasn’t even something he would consider. He told me that if I didn’t fall in line, I would be disinherited entirely, tossed out of the family home. He was genuinely confused when I packed my things on the one horse I owned and rode off for Paris.
“I wrote to them on occasion, to tell them what I’d learned, the masters I was learning from, but I stopped after a few years. To read letters from my family at the time, you’d think I was engaged in acts of cannibalism and heresy. They begged me, over and over, to just forget the life I made for myself, the life that defined me, and come ba
ck to a place that made me feel unwanted and useless. And then I was turned, and it was more a protective measure for my family—never seeing them again.”
“Do you ever regret that?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “But living a life that made me happy? No, I can’t say I regret that.”
“I get your point,” I told him quietly.
“I’m sorry tonight has been so unpleasant for you,” he said, brushing his fingertips along my cheek. His brow furrowed when I smiled. “Your teeth look sharper.”
“It’s close to the full moon.”
“I thought that was a myth,” he said. “I thought werewolves could change whenever you want.”
“It is. We can,” I insisted. “But the pull is harder over the full moon, the change is more complete. And it makes us a little crazier, decision-wise. Most of us lock up our credit cards and booze to prevent regrettable Internet shopping and fistfights.”
His thumb brushed across my bottom lip, barely grazing the tip of my right top canine. His skin tasted like mint.
“They’re so much like mine,” he said, tilting his head. “But warmer. You’re so much warmer.”
He bent to kiss me. I groaned at the cool relief of it, the taste of iron and mint and Alex. His tongue slipped over my lip, licking ever so delicately at mine. My hand slid into his hair, relishing its silkiness. And even as all the thoughts ebbed out of my head, I heard familiar voices echoing on the street.
I gasped, breaking away from him.
“What?”
I crossed the garden and looked over the wall. Several of my relatives—Uncle Creed, my daddy, Cousin Deacon, and my aunts—all running around the library parking lot, sniffing deeply. They couldn’t take the chance of being seen in town as wolves. Half-Moon Hollow residents might accept one wolf running through town and write it off as an oversized coyote—but a whole pack? People would freak—though I wasn’t sure a bunch of McClaines running around town like they were bloodhounds on two legs was less scary in comparison.