But when he places me in the cage and closes the door, his hand hovers over the lock... which he leaves hanging open.
I stare at his back until he's out of view, then stare at the open lock. He saw me to the cage, then put me in it. No one can say he didn't. But he also very clearly had no intention of trying to lock me up.
Tod and Aliah are exchanging harsh whispers in the foyer when I get back to them. Aliah squints at me. “What happened?”
“He put me in my cage,” I tell her. “Then I left it.”
No need to say in as many words that he meant for me to do that. Everyone will think it, but I wouldn't want people to try to prove it.
“Well...” Tod pushes off the wall and gives me a grin. “Let's go then.”
“Where?”
“Courtyard?” Aliah answers. She lets out a breath and looks to Tod. “You still have the rifle?”
He shakes his head fondly. “Now who's being overprotective? I thought she wasn't dangerous.”
Pink eyes roll, then focus on me. “Good luck?”
“Thanks.”
She swallows. “I don't think he needs the gun, you know? Because if I did...”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tod moves toward the door. “You'd be scared of what my sister would do to you if you let me get mauled.” He waves her off. “Stop worrying so much.”
She meets my eyes before I turn to go, but I'm not sure what I'm seeing in them. The color is so strange, it makes reading emotions hard.
“We'll be fine,” I tell her, accepting her nod as agreement.
She slumps up the stairs as Tod and I leave, going to the stables to pull a rifle from hiding. “What are you doing with that?” I ask.
“It's just a precaution.”
I snort. “Yeah, but where did you get it?”
“Oh.” He gives me a faintly sheepish smile. “Aliah took it from the supply cupboard earlier today.”
“You had Aliah steal it?” I stare at him as he shrugs and leads me back outside into the dimming evening.
“We borrowed it.” He walks to a bench that I suspect plays the part of a table in warmer months. It sits about halfway between the school and the kennels, under a huge pine tree that keeps some of the snow off it although Tod still has to brush several inches off. After clearing enough space for both of us, he sits down and takes out a box of bullets that look like little syringes.
“What are those?” I ask.
He glances at the bullets, as if checking to make sure. “Tranquilizer darts.” He grins. “You didn't think I was going to aim something lethal at you, did you?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” I admit dryly.
His head shakes as he slides darts into the weapon. “It's just a sedative mixed with a tiny amount of silver to make it work on a were.”
I blink. “The silver thing's true?”
Slowly, he nods. “Yep. The silver thing is true. You may have noticed, no one here wears any.” He snaps the casing closed. “But there's not nearly enough in here to kill you. It would just knock you out and leave you with a migraine.”
“Yippee.”
He laughs at me. “Do I need to point out this is only for the off chance you're trying to kill me?”
“Kill you?” My cheeks go from cold to frozen.
Tod rolls his eyes. “I don't think you're actually going to.”
“Oh, I don't know.” Heavily, I sit beside him. “You can be awfully annoying sometimes.”
“Thanks.”
My eyes on the horizon, I wonder how much time I have until the moon rises. “What if I don't change tonight either?” I whisper.
My companion reaches out to take my hand. Since I haven't been able to replace my good gloves yet, I wear my backup pair. They're too thin, so my hand really welcomes being held. “It won't be the end of the world, Mike.”
Nodding, I try to accept that. Tears prick at my eyes though. “But what if someone dies because I couldn't tell them what that creature out there is?”
“That's a pretty big if, kit.” Tod gives my hand a squeeze. “And it's not your fault if you don't change tonight.”
I nod again. It is not my fault if I'm too stupid to do something that everyone else does instinctively. Right... “And you'll be alright?”
He smiles softly. “I've been able to control my shift for about a year now.”
Which is pretty impressive, according to the stuff Sam and Aliah were telling me earlier in the week. While females frequently learn to manage their changes in their late teens, males usually don't develop the ability until sometime in their twenties. Foxes are usually early learners though. Either because of their superior intelligence, as they claim, or because the fox just isn't as difficult a beast to reign in, as the other weres maintain.
“And...” Tod whispers. “I won't let anything bad happen to you.”
My fingers tighten around his as I hope he can keep that promise. I know he'll try.
I take a breath, my gaze again on the skyline. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going earlier. I had this weird dream, and then I just panicked.”
“It's alright.” His breath warms my cheek as he looks at my profile. “A lot of people do strange things during the moon.”
Shaking my head, I let out a sound that merges laughter and crying. “I don't think it was the moon, Tod.”
“Well, maybe you're just strange all the time then,” he suggests, making me smile.
“You're one to talk,” I banter back, leaning my head against his shoulder.
His arm goes around me. “You make a good point.” He gives me a squeeze. “So are we going to talk about why you let yourself get all panicked over the wolf?”
I sigh. “No.”
“You sure?”
“Are you back together with Lyly?” I counter.
He stills and takes his time to answer. “I don't know.”
“You don't know?” I twist my head to look at his face. “How can you not know?”
A hint of a sheepish smile traces the edges of his mouth. “I've been avoiding her since Monday morning.” The sound following his words is conflicted, half a sob and half a bolt of laughter.
I make a thoughtful murmur and lean my head down again. “That sounds like a no to me.”
He shrugs under my cheek. “I guess.” Moving his hand along my arm, he plays with the fabric of my coat. “I'm just not sure what I want to do, so I haven't done anything. You know?”
“Eventually doing nothing is doing something,” I point out.
“I know.” He sighs and rests his head against mine. “I don't suppose you're going to tell me what I should do?”
Guess I walked into being asked for advice. “Do you love her?”
It takes him several moments to answer that. “I've always assumed so.”
“Well, if you do...” I find his hand and wrap my fingers around it, entwining them with his. “Then you have to find a way to break this pattern.”
“What do you mean?”
“It's not good for her,” I say. “She's turned into a spoiled brat, and it's largely because you let her walk all over you.”
He's silent, presumably thinking about that.
“You told me once I shouldn't hold your dad's behavior against him because he was a fox,” I say softly. “And I know that's what you use to justify Lyly. But, how many times did your mother tell your dad to leave? How often have you looked at Lyly and told her you felt it was time to take a break?”
Cold air moves against me as he moves his head away. Which is answer enough for me.
“Right,” I breathe. “Their problems aren't in their better halves. They're in the human halves.”
“Maybe.” The admission is a weak whisper.
Sitting up, I turn so I can look at him, keeping his hand held against my arm. “Did it bother you and your siblings that your dad was always coming and going?”
For a while I think he's not going to reply, and he won't meet my eyes, but e
ventually he nods.
“The whole den feels that way over Lyly.”
His eyes go quickly to mine. How could that news have startled him?
“So...” I take a deep breath. “My advice is that you can break up with her for good. Or you can take her back, and fight to keep her. But you can't keep this up anymore, Tod. You deserve better. Lyly deserves better. And our den deserves better.”
He stares at me with wide eyes, looking completely shocked at my words.
His lips move, like he's trying to get them to say something, but before any words form, the pressure of the moon rising comes over me again, the same heightening of the senses as last night, the same sensations.
Wiggling out from under Tod's arm, I get off the bench and take a few steps away from it as the urgency mounts.
My body tingles again like last night, the pressure building in the same way as before. The world thrums with energy. The colors around me pop out in dazzling effects. The wind against my skin feels like a million touches and the scents riding it wash over me in a dizzying aromatic display.
Tod leans forward, anxious.
The night presses down on me, harder and heavier, until I'm certain I'm going to burst under its pressure.
And then the world pops. And the feelings reside. And I could be any girl standing out in any yard in the world.
“And that's it,” I whisper through a colossal sense of failure.
Tod smiles sadly. “It's alright, kit.”
Tears form in my eyes as I shake my head at him, slumping in defeat. “I want to change.”
My companion shrugs, clearly not having any idea what to say to me.
I'm a were who can't were. What a freak.
“Don't cry!” Tod lays the gun on the bench and rushes to me, hugs me tight. “It's okay, Mike. Really.”
“I've never even seen a change,” I whine.
Tod pulls back, wipes at my face with the edge of my scarf. “Do you want me to change for you?”
Sniffling, I blink at him. “Would you?”
“Of course.” Smiling, he walks a short way from me. He stops, takes a deep breath, and gives me a nervous laugh. “Not used to this being a performance.”
I smile at him, even though I want to cry some more. “I'm sorry. You don't have to do it if it's weird.”
“Not weird.” He shakes his head. “Just...” He trails off into a shrug. “It's not all that impressive.”
Not impressive? “You change shape. Where I'm from, that's impressive.”
“Not where I'm from.” Holding his arms out dramatically, he bows. “But I'll try.”
Eyes closed, he pulls in a breath, and with it he seems to draw in the moon. He starts to shimmer, the dance of light moving in a rhythm matched by the night.
It's hard to follow what happens next. He blurs into a fog that isn't bright, but is somehow blinding. Then, he just sort of rearranges into a new shape. Then he's looking at me from much closer to the ground than usual, the personality in his eyes still the same but everything else different.
And then the pressure of the moon presses on me again, molding me into something new. The whole world shimmers with that strange fog, slamming my eyelids shut.
And when I open them again, Tod is at eye level.
The bright red fox lets out a yip of pleasure. Barking, he darts forward and tries to bite my tail.
What the expletive? My tail? Twisting away from him, I look back to see a fluffy brown fox tail bobbing behind my rear legs. I have rear legs too. And front ones with paws on the bottom.
“I'm a fox?” The question comes out as a bark.
Tod barks back, then pounces on me. I meet the attack, and we roll together on the ground like a pair of kittens. He pins me beneath him and makes a series of merry little noises.
I'm a fox.
And Warren had me more than half convinced I was a wolf.
Tod yips again, but this time the sound is more frightened than happy. He leaps off of me and back peddles, his eyes huge.
The fog swarms in to cover my vision again. Through the glistening veil, I see Tod grow smaller. And not because he's gained distance.
There's a blinding flash and when I can see again, I'm looking down at my paw. It's bigger. I look back. Yep, my butt is bigger now too. And my tail is different. Lowering my head, I move my front paws up to feel at my head.
I'm a wolf.
I think maybe I would rather have been a guinea pig.
Tod swells in size and after a second of loosing my sight to mist, I see my tail has all but disappeared.
“What's going on?” I squeak.
I try to become a Tasmanian devil, but stay stubbornly in my shape as a cavie.
Kitten.
Glancing back, I see a long, slender tail.
Dog. Cow. Bear.
Every animal I picture clearly, I become.
Human.
“Michaela is a human.”
I hug myself tightly. Then Tod's arms fall around me, and he hugs me, too. “You're everything,” he whispers in awe.
“I'm nothing,” I whisper back, my voice choked with unshed tears.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tod and I enter Mr. Atherton's office together first thing in the morning. We skip over going into how I left the cage last night and get straight to the point. “We know what I am.” I sigh as I sit down. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?” the principal asks, frowning slightly and leaning forward over his desk.
Coming up behind me, Tod places his hands on the back of my chair. “I've never heard of anything like it. But she's not one animal. She's all of them.”
“All of them?” Mr. Atherton redirects the frown to the fox behind me.
“Anything I can think of, I can be,” I clarify. “I went through a series of things. Fox, wolf, bear, cat... Guinea pig.”
“Guinea pig?” He doesn't even try not to stare at me.
“Yeah.” Drawing in a long breath, I meet his eyes, trying to battle the disbelief I see in them. “At first, I didn't change at all. But after Tod shifted for me... It was like seeing it helped me figure out what to do, or something.”
“But you weren't compelled to do it?”
I shake my head. “No. It was just like the first night. The pressure came, but I rode it out.”
“And then you could be anything you wanted?”
Closing my eyes, I try to tap into the energies I used for my transformation. Reaching it, I concentrate on changing form. I open my eyes and wind my lemur tail around my body as Mr. Atherton gapes openly. “How is that possible?”
I snort, not needing words to convey I have no way of knowing.
“She wants to demonstrate for the den and the pack,” Tod says on my behalf. “Do you think we could get them together, or will she need separate meetings?”
It takes a while for Mr. Atherton to respond because he's too busy trying to wrap his mind around the concept of someone who can be anything. “I think we can get them together. I'll call your grandmother.”
Tod makes a sound of agreement. “We figured there's no way anyone's going to believe this without seeing it.”
“No...” Mr. Atherton shakes his head, then stops and clears his throat. “I don't think you should tell anyone here about this. Wait until after we panic the adult community, okay?”
I nod, then realize there's no point in staying furry. Summoning the fog again, I shift back to fully human. Still stunned, Mr. Atherton shakes his head.
Behind me, the door slams open, and I turn to see a vaguely familiar girl sprint into the room. She stops, takes a half-second to catch her breath, and then throws herself at Tod. Instinctively, he scoops her into his arms, grinning down at her. “What are you doing here?” he asks, obviously pleased.
Catching something in the girl's expression, his smile fades. “What's wrong?” Fear radiates off of the question. I find myself on my feet as I wait for her answer, realizing where I know her from. She's the third of th
e Fox siblings, and really should be back in Washington.
“Toni?” Mr. Atherton stands too and walks around his desk, looking at the visitor with mingled curiosity and concern.
“My mom's in the car,” the girl tells him with a tremble in her voice. “Scot's trying to get her to come in, but she's scared.”
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