Tod looks back to Aliah and lets out a slow, saddened, breath. “Same deal.”
Lyly lets out a cry of frustration. “Like anyone would take her to prom anyway! Why don't you take away something she actually cares about?”
Tod has to be well aware the punishment is worse for Lyly than for her sister. It sounds fair to me though, since Lyly's crime was the greater one.
“You can take the matter to my grandmother,” Tod offers, not so much as blinking under the force of her ire.
There are honest tears in Lyly's eyes now. “I can't believe you'd do this to me because of her.”
Shaking his head, Tod starts to leave the room. I stand aside to let him by and out of the corner of my eye, I catch a blur of motion. Tod spins, comprehending the situation faster than I do, and he leaps across the room to slam into Lyly, knocking her to the ground. “What was that?” he bellows at her as her body starts to shudder with huge, wracking sobs.
Aliah is staring. She had been climbing to her feet when her sister tried to take her out from behind. Lyly's hands are still shifted into claws. Smaller claws than mine, yes, but larger than those of a natural fox and capable of plenty of damage.
“Lyly!” Tod is still furious when he shouts the name, but as he looks down at her, tears marring her face and her lips quivering, something in his expression softens. When he speaks again, he is more mournful than anything. “What is going on with you, Ly? This isn't you.”
Sliding back down to the ground, Aliah closes her eyes, concentrates, and then shifts in furred form. As a sleek white fox, she walks around the sofa, pausing to glance up at me before running out of the door. Blood stands out against her pale coat, but the wounds are starting to heal, their repairs accelerated by her change.
Looking back toward Tod, I see him pull himself out of a bittersweet kiss. His voice is soft, his expression tender. “I'm not taking you back.”
“What?”
I notice Lyly's stopped crying completely.
Rising to his feet, Tod holds out a hand to help her up. “We're not getting back together this time.”
“You're breaking up with me?” Her screech sends knives of pain through my bones. Ignoring the offer of assistance, she springs to her feet unaided. “You can't do that!”
I almost laugh.
Tod gives her a very long look. “Goodbye, Alysia.”
He leaves her sputtering and hissing. He looks at me as I fall into place beside him in the corridor. Reaching out, I give his hand a quick squeeze. “Where did Aliah go?” he asks.
“I don't know,” I tell him, dropping his hand and giving him a shrug. “She sprouted fur and scampered out as fast as her four little legs could carry her.”
“She needs to see the nurse.” His nostrils flare as he sniffs for her scent.
I sigh. “She's a big enough girl to know if she needs attention or not.”
“No, she isn't,” he contradicts. “In the fall, she fell when we were hiking, and she didn't say anything to anyone. Just passed out from the pain and shock of trying to walk up a mountain with a leg that was broken in three places.”
That does imply a certain lack of sensibility. “Maybe she learned from that.”
But her scent leads to a door, and a freshman who admits to opening it for her. Cursing, we grab our coats and go out into the cold.
Her trail leads to a thick concentration of trees, pines that are growing so closely together as to be impassable without shifting.
“It's your call,” I answer Tod's questioning look. “But it looks to me like she wants to be alone. And she wasn't dripping blood or anything.”
Unhappy sounds emerge from the back of his throat as he glares at where the tree branches were disturbed by Aliah's passing. He calls out her name, three times, with increasing volume and insistence.
“Aliah,” he calls out again, forlorn now. “Please? I'm worried about you.” There's a rustling from inside the trees somewhere. “Did I do something wrong? Something to upset you? Because if so, whatever it was, I'm sorry. Very, very sorry.”
The next rustling is from further away.
“Aliah? Please come out,” he begs. “Please?”
And she starts to run.
Tod's eyes go to me, wide and hurt. “Why is she running from me?”
Taking a deep breath, I shake my head. “She needs to be alone. I doubt it's anything personal.”
He frowns, but doesn't call me on the statement. Even though he had to see that it's one of the biggest lies I've ever told.
“If I change, I can go after her,” he says quietly. “But I don't know if I could change back before tonight. Most people don't shift as easily as you do. And my instinct will be to keep the fox form.”
I nod. I don't want to go to the meeting tonight without him, but I'm not going to tell him that holding my hand through my performance anxiety is more important than Aliah. I think she'll be fine, I really do. But if he disagrees, I'm not going to stop him from helping her.
He stares at the trees for a long time before turning with a tight expression and starting back to the school. “Do you know what's wrong with her?” he asks me as I trudge through the snow after him.
“No.” That one's not a lie. Not entirely. I don't know what's wrong with her; I've merely formed a highly probable theory. There's no way I'd ever talk to Tod about it without permission though. “But I think it will work itself out.”
“And how do you know that if you don't know what the problem is?” He catches on to all the wrong things, doesn't he?
I shrug. “Call it an optimistic hunch.”
Snorting, he shakes his head. “Optimism,” he mutters in a dark voice.
The truth is, I just can't be the one to tell him why Aliah's acting like she is. I mean, being wrong would be pretty embarrassing. But, if I'm right... Well, then it's Aliah's place to tell him. Not mine. She's the one in love with a guy who will never, ever notice.
He doesn't even seem to notice he's far more upset about Aliah being out there in the woods than he would be about anyone else. But as he rushes around commanding people to keep an eye out for her while we're gone, it's pretty obvious to the rest of us.
“We'll find her,” Seth assures us with calm sympathy, even though there's no way a leopard could fit in the holes she was using any more than a human could.
“You look nervous too,” Seth observes as Tod goes off to spread the word to keep an eye open for Aliah further. Leaning into a loose hug, I sigh.
“That would be because I am.” I wish Seth would be coming with me, but he hasn't mastered his changes enough to be allowed, even if we could get permission to take a leopard with us. “I never liked public speaking.”
“You'll be fine.” He plants a light kiss on the top of my head. “And when you get back, you can tell me all about everything.”
“I could tell you now, but I'm not sure you'd believe me.”
He makes a sound of interest. “So it really is that weird?”
Nodding, I let out a slow breath. “This meeting is so I can demonstrate. Because there's absolutely no way they'd all buy it without seeing it.”
That tidbit widens his perfect eyes. “As soon as I'm human, I'm knocking on your door.”
“Yeah, well, if you do it before six, there's no way I'm telling you anything.” I grin up at my friend.
“Okay. See you at six-oh-one, then.” He gives me a teasing wink as Tod swoops in to take me away, escorting me to his car with none of his usual banter.
We don't speak much as we drive, spending the hour long trip in virtual silence broken only by the music on the radio.
The venue for my demonstration is just as devoid of excitement as the ride to it was. I suppose I had expected to be taken to a glen deep into the forest, or possibly into a cavern secreted dramatically in the midst of a mountain, or even to a trendy nightclub closed on nights of the full moon. But, no. The meeting is in Tod's aunt's backyard.
It's a nice backyard, r
oomy and opening into the forest, and, most importantly, out of sight of the neighbors. But it's still just a backyard. There's even a swing set in it, half buried under the snow.
A cold wind rips through me as Tod leads me around the side of the house. Nausea grips my stomach. There are at least sixty people milling about the yard, most of whom are strangers. I saw a few of them at my introduction to the den, and I remember Tod explaining that not only are they members of his den family, the majority of them are members of his extended biological family, as well. That has something to do with the rules on who is allowed to breed. Apparently one half of any breeding pair has to come from one of a select number of genealogical lines, but it's more complicated than that. I haven't felt compelled to ask for details, being fairly certain I wouldn't like them. Catching sight of a pair of familiar faces, I approach Emma Fox to say hello to her and to be re-introduced to her youngest daughter. While I'm talking to them, a pair of wolves come over, Warren's parents. In looks, my friend takes after his mother, but he has his father's scent.
The den matriarch tells me the moon will rise in about ten minutes and urges me to have something to eat first. Nodding, I agree and go over to a buffet table filled with smoked meats and cheeses. I nibble on some jerky, but it feels like lead when I swallow it.
“You'll be fine,” Tod tells me, putting a supportive smile on his face, even though the pinched skin around his eyes tells me he's still upset about Aliah.
I whimper softly in mild argument and lean toward him, into a warm and friendly hug. After a few moments, he whispers, “I think Warren could use some help.”
Pulling back with a puzzled mew, I move my head around to look for the wolf. I spot him near the corner of the house, somehow giving off the impression of pacing despite standing still, his eyes on the horizon even though he won't be able to see the moon crest over the land because of all the trees.
I excuse myself from Tod and walk toward the wolf. Unlike usual, he doesn't act at all aware of my approach until I'm within a few feet of him.
“Hey, Warren.”
His eyes flicker to me, but are pulled almost instantly back to the forest. “Michaela.”
Why do so many of our exchanges start this way?
“You doing alright?” I ask, easing to a stop near him, letting his body block the wind a little.
“Yeah. You?”
I snort. “Nervous as hell.”
The faintest trace of a smile appears on his face. “You and every fox here. But we're not going to start eating you all.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Not what I'm afraid of. I'm more worried I'll get a bad review and ruin my performance career.”
“Well, that's possible.” The smile gets bigger. “Critics are the scariest monsters of them all, and we have several here tonight.”
Warren's jaw tenses, and his body trembles. His attention goes back to the horizon.
“Stop fighting it,” I say gently.
“If I don't fight it, I'll have to leave.” His gaze forces itself to me, pain in his eyes.
“I don't want you to leave.” My hand goes, of its own accord, to his arm. “What I meant was, don't deny you're a wolf. Just be a wolf in human form.”
“That's really... mystic.”
The statement makes me laugh. “No. I just... I realized when I watched Tod last night that he didn't change what he was when he shifted, he just changed what he looked like.”
Storm clouds brew in Warren's eyes and his teeth grind together with audible menace.
“What?” I ask.
The wind blasts into me again, rushing from behind me and flinging my hair into my face. I curse and pull my hood up.
Warren, his nostrils flaring and his eyes full of hurt and anger, glowers down at me with a growl that shakes my bones. A surge of panic knifes its way into my chest. “You are not helping,” the wolf grumbles at me.
Every piece of my body trembles as he stomps away. “Warren!” I yell, finding myself more frightened for him than of him. Repeating his name, I trot after him.
The look he gives me when I catch up to him is feral. He is more the wolf this second than he has ever been with me before, and I realize in a sudden blast of clarity exactly why it is harder to contain the wolf than to contain a fox. Both are wild, but the wolf... It's wild.
The fear rises up again, but it's still not for me. Warren, the wolf or the human, isn't going to hurt me. But he's capable of ripping himself apart.
“How can I help?” I whisper.
“How can you help?” he sneers. “You can...” A rough breath breaks into the words. “You can stop...” There's a heart wrenching growl of frustration, and he gives up trying to speak all together.
Instead, he grabs me by the shoulders, slams me into the wall, and brings his mouth down over mine with a furious passion that rips through me, tearing apart my entire world to rebuild it again with Warren stamped on every single atom of it.
I moan in displeasure when he pulls away.
“You,” he places a languid kiss on my cheek, “--can,” lands another kiss a millimeter away, “stop–”continues the pattern of alternating kiss with words, “smelling... like... other... people.” He moves to the other cheek. “You... can... stop... doing... intimate things... with them.” His lips go again to mine, brushing them ever so lightly. “You... can... stop...” Giving up on talking again, he kisses me firmly, his tongue swirling into my mouth, possessing, dominating. “Just...” He pulls away again, eyes fevered and breath catching with every syllable as he says, “Just stop reminding me you aren't mine.”
His hands release me, and he walks briskly away. As his long strides steal him from me, I stare after him, my body too shocked to do anything other than lean against the building and hope it doesn't collapse.
Stop reminding him I'm not his?
My fingers go to my lips, tracing them as I think about the way he kissed me, and the way I kissed him back.
“But what if I am yours?” I whisper to him even though he's not even in sight anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“There you are.” Tod smiles at me as I approach him, my thoughts a swirl and my mouth still tasting of Warren. My friend's eyebrows go up at my expression, but he doesn't say anything about it. “I was starting to wonder if you'd bailed.”
“Wouldn't dream of it.” Okay, there's a part of me that's still considering running away. But it's tremendously important people realize what sort of creature has invaded our territory, and there's a chance I'll be able to talk to a certain wolf afterwards, conceivably even get him to kiss me again.
It amazes me to realize exactly how much I want him to kiss me again. I don't think I've ever wanted anything quite as much.
A large circle has been formed, and Emma is busy giving an introduction for me, telling the others about how I'm a new were from a previously unknown strain. “We're hunting someone who is the same species as Michaela. She hopes her demonstration today will help us understand what we're fighting against.”
Insecure, nervous, and cold, I could really use another hug right about now. But thinking about Warren, I refrain from requesting one as I wait for the pressure of the moon to hit and then recede. “Show time,” I whisper in a voice I somehow keep from trembling, leaving Tod's side to go stand in the middle of the circle.
With all the eyes on me, it's hard just staying upright and breathing. Knowing they can all smell my fear, I try to dampen it, but the best I can do is ignore it. It hasn't gone away as I stop in the middle of the gathering and take a deep breath. Tod, his arms folded and posture relaxed, gives me nod. I nod back, but then my eyes go to Warren. Everyone here has to notice I'm looking at him. Unlike Tod, he's not directly in front of me, but off to the side so I have to turn my head most of the way sideways to see him. Leaning nonchalantly against one of the swing set's supports, he gives me a faint, understanding, smile. It settles the fluttering in my stomach, gives me the strength to keep going.
&nbs
p; Still looking at him, I picture in my mind the image of a fox, then focus on drawing power from the moon. Slowly, as the now familiar fog settles in, I start to tingle, then to shrink and change shape into a fox. Warren's shoulders slump a little, his smile becomes a shade sadder. Then his face stills as I start to shift again, taking on the form of a wolf. He straightens, staring at me. People around the circle start to talk.
I become a leopard. And a guinea pig, a boar, a bear, a mouse, and a woolly mammoth. I try not to spend too long as any of them, particularly the animals a wolf could describe as bite-sized.
The quiet murmuring of the crowd has become an avalanche of sound. And Warren's look has shifted to one of appalled horror.
Of Fur and Ice Page 24