by S Bolanos
“I realize I shouldn’t have done that, but after this morning, I was worried, and…”
“Michael, stop, it’s okay. I understand,” I emphasized.
He didn’t look relieved.
“Honestly, it’s a little comforting to know,” I tried again.
“You don’t get it.” An emotion I didn’t understand thickened his voice. “The change is a really personal thing, it’s when we’re at our most vulnerable. What I did was a serious violation of trust. I mean, occasionally there are exceptions, but they’re rare and usually involve permission or at least some sort of understanding. I realize that werewolf etiquette might be a little beyond you right now, but that’s no excuse for my behavior. I know better,” he finished then turned away and flopped onto the couch. His head hung in his hand, his fingers twisting in his hair.
“I don’t really know what to say, Michael, except, you’re right, I don’t understand how everything works, but what’s done is done. And quite frankly, I need you to stop feeling guilty, because I would like to talk to you about what happened.”
He lifted his head so I could see his brown eyes peering back. He still looked sullen, but didn’t try to resume apologies.
“Thank you. Now, can you explain how it works? I know you sort of walked me through starting the change, but what exactly is happening? And don’t worry about sugar-coating, I think I’m a little past that,” I added with a small smile.
He let out a large sigh and finally dropped his hands. “It’s definitely not a pretty process. The only reason we survive at all is because we have super-accelerated healing.”
“Okay, I can understand that. What else?” I prompted.
He shrugged and took on an almost scholarly tone as he proceeded to break down every gory detail from breaking bones to ultra-sensitive fresh skin. I nodded along, appreciating that he didn’t hold back even when the explanation was gruesome. When he finished, he knotted his fingers together and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees.
“And eventually, I’ll be able to choose when all of this starts?” I chewed my lip a moment then met his patient gaze. I’d asked before, but after what had happened, I wasn’t sure how much faith I had in the answer.
He stood and grabbed both my hands. “Sara, you will master this and I will do everything I can to help.”
“Will it always hurt?” I asked barely above a whisper.
His expression saddened. “You’ll get more used to it as time goes on.”
It was the answer I expected, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. I removed my hands from his grasp and wrapped my arms around myself as if somehow it could keep me whole while I was so clearly falling apart. This was my life now, assuming I stayed alive long enough to live it.
15
A Real Run
Michael assembled his duffel with a precision that spoke of years of practice. I glanced at my own which had not received the same level of care. I’d had a whole week to brace myself for this, but I didn’t feel any more prepared than the first time. Okay, maybe a little.
“How long will it be before I don’t have to change at the full moon?” I asked as he zipped his bag shut.
He let out a sigh that sounded a bit like resignation. “Resisting isn’t easy. Even with years of practice, it’s rarely foolproof.”
“So, I should definitely clear my calendar?” I quipped. Sarcasm, I could handle. Turning into a wolf in less than three hours, not so much.
“Yeah, you might want to consider it,” he said with a laugh.
“Werewolves should get extra sick days,” I grumbled. I’m definitely running low.
“It’s usually only a problem when the moon rises early. Typically, you’ll be able to go to work that day, change later in the evening, then return to work the following day.”
I stared back at him in amazement as it fully registered that he truly had been doing this his whole life.
“What’s that look for? I’m serious, unless the moon rises in the middle of the day, you’re pretty much in the clear,” he added.
“That’s convenient.” Between both of my experiences, I was shaping up to be an utter disaster as a werewolf.
“Sara,” Michael said as his fingers landed lightly on the side of my face.
Electric awareness surged through every cell. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disheartened that he hadn’t made any attempt to resume intimacy between us over the last week. I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat and met his steady gaze.
“I will be with you every step of the way. You don’t have to do this alone.” His thumb stroked across my cheek, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake.
The air in the room suddenly seemed thinner as if somehow, I was standing hundreds of feet in the air as opposed to a little bedroom in North Carolina.
Maybe it wasn’t a one-off. What if he really does want to be with me and the dates aren’t excuses to give me bad news?
A part of me still believed the only reason I was even staying at his place was because he felt responsible and that everything that had transpired was actually a product of guilt—reverse Stockholm, if that was even a thing. But then, there was the way his hand held my face, like he was balancing a feather on the tips of his fingers, and the way his brown eyes seemed to be searching mine for the answer to a question we both were asking.
I should say something.
Before I got the chance, his cell phone vibrated and shattered the fragile moment. He dropped his hand to silence it. “That’s our cue. Time to hit the road.”
My face burned, emphasizing the cold absence of his touch. I looked up through my lashes as he slung the duffel over his shoulder as if nothing had happened. My rebelliously optimistic heart sank.
I’m his project, nothing more.
“You ready?” he asked, even though he knew I already was.
“Yeah,” I said quietly and followed him out of the house. As we approached our ride, I stalled. The bright yellow Jeep sat completely open to all of the elements. “You took the sides off.”
“It’s a beautiful night. There’s no reason we shouldn’t enjoy all of it.” His bag made a decisive thunk in the back and he held out a hand for mine.
I scurried the last few feet and handed it over so that it could receive the same treatment. Once the bags were secure, he turned to look at me wordlessly. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and folded my arms as if the barrier could somehow protect me from my own feelings of insecurity. He continued to stare without uttering so much as a syllable. Finally, he looked away and I let out the breath I was holding. We walked around to our respective seats and buckled in. Within moments, the engine roared to life, signaling that we were officially on our way.
In my continued pursuit of avoidance, I focused on the drive itself. Gradually the stoplights and green street signs gave way to a county road with scarcely any traffic to be seen. Open highway and giant trees quickly swallowed suburbia and the city skyline.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were headed to my parents’ place.
After a while of appreciating the breeze gusting through the open cabin I asked, “How far are we going?”
“It’s about an hour out of town. This time of year, the park isn’t too busy. Even then, we’ll need to swing wide to make sure we go to the far side. All in all, I’d say we have another forty-five minutes or so.”
“Right, don’t want any adventurous campers stumbling across a pair of werewolves.”
He gave me a look out of the corner of his eye.
“What?” I asked.
“If you're thinking about backing out, it’s a little too late,” Michael said as he navigated the Jeep down the county highway.
“I know, I know. If I chicken out now, I’ll never gain control,” I lamented, yet again trying to steel my resolve.
“I was going with it’s almost dark and we’d literally not make it back anywhere safe before you change.”
Michael glanced quickly in my direction and added, “But that too.”
My mouth twisted into a sour scowl as I glared at him.
“Sara,” he sighed, “you have to do this sometime. You can’t be afraid of this your whole life—this is your life now. Besides, doing it out here will feel better, feel right. Trust me.” He gave my knee a friendly pat.
I took a deep breath and released my death hold on the door. He gave me a reassuring smile, then carefully maneuvered down a dirt road that looked like it hadn’t been used in the last decade. The scent of pine hung heavy on the breeze. Shadows played on the ground as we slipped past trees determined to persevere against the harsh bite of winter. Here and there fresh growths of green could be spotted, but they were gone too fast to see more than a blur.
An eerie awareness of the approaching night permeated my skin. I scratched absently at my arm and shifted several times unable to find a comfortable position while I stared out at the deepening twilight. Michael glanced repeatedly in my direction at each movement, but neglected to comment.
By the time we parked, the sun sat like a giant red ball on the horizon. Michael immediately got out and walked around to grab our bags.
I stayed seated until the last remnants of vibration from the vehicle dissipated. The ominous sun glowed like a fiery harbinger of doom between the rows of pines. Each passing second bringing the day closer and closer to the end.
I swallowed back the acid inching its way up my throat and slipped out of the Jeep. The door clunked shut loud enough to startle me and several nearby birds. I looked up from my cringe to see Michael eying me speculatively. I quickly straightened up and re-tied my hair in a tight tail. He zipped the keys into an internal pocket of his duffel, then slung his bag on before tossing me mine and waltzing towards the tree line.
I fumbled the catch and made it two steps before stopping. I whirled to look at the Jeep and called after Michael. “Aren’t you worried about someone stealing it?”
He looked back, his gaze swinging from me to the Jeep and back again. “Not really.”
“But anyone could walk up and—I don’t know—hot wire it or something,” I insisted.
A smile played on Michael’s lips. “Do you see any potential thieves around? We literally drove to the middle of nowhere to be as far away from people as possible. If they’re that motivated to steal my truck, they’re welcome to it. That’s what insurance is for,” he said. Then with laughter in his eyes, he turned and disappeared into the darkening shadows.
“It was a fair concern,” I grumbled to myself.
“You’re stalling!” Michael’s voice called from far ahead.
I let out an “Eep” and scurried to catch up.
He led us on a path that aimed deep into the forest. Twigs and other dry things snapped under foot while the night wrapped around us. As the light died, my senses focused on other things. Squirrels scrabbled against bark as they found their way home. Tiny feet and their tiny steps whispered on the breeze. When an owl hooted overhead, all the scurrying stopped for a heartbeat, then resumed with renewed purpose.
I spun around at each minuscule sound in search of its source. My duffel switched from shoulder to shoulder, never lasting more than a few seconds in any one position. I rubbed my arms, though I wasn’t cold, and did my best to keep up with Michael who was virtually silent compared to me and the rest of the animals. Each step clawed at my nerves, heightening the anxiety I’d been fighting since before we left the house, until it was all I could do not to shriek and bolt back to the jeep.
“That’s it. This is as far as I go.” My bag landed with a muted thud on the leaf strewn ground. Something scratched my face and I ripped out a stray twig along with my ponytail. “You’ve dragged me heaven only knows how far into these creepy-ass woods and I’m done,” I snapped, my chest heaving as unexpected anger flowed through me.
Michael stood a good ten yards ahead of me, but he was by my side in an instant. “I’m sorry, I should have given you a better idea of what to expect. We don’t have to go any farther. Here’s fine,” he said, scooping up my duffel.
Guilt flashed white hot through me at my unprovoked outburst. I shook my head and held my arms. “No, I’m sorry. I know you wanted to get deep into the woods…” Abruptly, I realized I was shaking. It didn’t take a genius to know it wasn’t because of the cold. I looked up at Michael as fear took root.
“You’re going to be okay,” he said calmly. “Take a deep breath and try to relax.”
I nodded and he stepped away. My first attempt stuck in my throat, but I managed the second and another well enough. I placed my hands on my knees and focused on one steady breath at a time. Slowly, the feeling of someone sitting on my chest eased. While I worked on not collapsing, Michael checked out the area where we’d stopped.
“We need to get ready,” he said as he completed his circuit. “I normally prefer more cover, but here should be fine.”
At the sound of a zipper, my head snapped up. His jeans slithered to the ground leaving his legs as bare as his chest. He snatched them off the ground and folded them along with the shirt.
Stop staring.
While this wasn’t technically the first time I'd seen Michael naked, it didn’t diminish the sight. My pulse slowed as I raked my gaze shamelessly over his naked body. The last remnants of twilight reached out to caress every sculpted inch of him and there was no denying that even in a human shape, he looked like he belonged out here.
I doubt the same could be said of me.
Abruptly, he met my blatant gaze and gave me a wink. I choked on my latest steady breath and almost fell over. He gave me one of those carefree smiles that came so naturally to him, then promptly disappeared into the trees, presumably to hide his clothes.
I waited an eternity for him to come back. With each passing moment, my measured breathing became harder to keep in check. My hands flexed repeatedly as I paced in place. My steady breaths turned into harsh pants. As a last resort, I tried counting to ten, only to discover that making it past seven was near impossible.
How long does it take to bury a damn duffel?
The barest crunch of leaves reached my ears. I jumped, realizing a fraction too late that the sound had come from the same direction Michael had vanished. “It’s about freaking time,” I snapped. “Now how am I supposed to hide my bag? Is there some kind of protocol? Are some leaves better than others? Do I need to involve dirt?” My slew of inane questions stopped as I finished turning around.
At the edge of the trees stood a very, very large wolf. My mouth went dry and my heart pumped furiously. The dark creature sat and cocked its head to the side. A fresh bout of anger seared away my sudden fear.
“Seriously? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? And what happened to me changing first?” He barked and I gave another involuntary jump. “Stop that.” I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension gathered there. The motion did nothing.
I can do this.
Not like I really have a choice.
I dismissed the bitter reality check and focused on doing what I should have been doing while I waited for Michael to return. My shirt came off less than gracefully, quickly followed by an equally awkward attempt to remove my pants. In retrospect, removing my shoes first probably would’ve helped. I looked up, finally bare to the elements, expecting to see Michael laughing at me. To my surprise, his back was turned.
I shoved my things into the duffel and walked over to where he sat patiently waiting. Once I was by his side, he led me over to where his clothes were concealed, then walked me several yards away to where I could hide mine. When I was satisfied that they were sufficiently hidden, I returned to the area where we’d stopped. He was waiting for me in the small clearing. He held my gaze for a moment, then silently turned and padded ou
t of sight.
Okay, I can do this. It won’t be that bad, and it’ll be over quickly.
Who am I kidding? This is going to be awful.
I looked up at the purpling sky and spied the first stars twinkling to life. Michael had told me how to be human again, but had neglected to say how it went the other way. I tried to remember what it was like to be on four legs instead of two, what my tail felt like, how everything looked and sounded, but I kept coming back to when I was a wolf, I wasn’t me—wasn’t human.
Maybe I can get Michael to growl at me.
I dismissed the idea with more reluctance than I cared to admit, but the idea had merit. I couldn’t only remember the mostly good things.
The fear of that first night as I ran for my life spread through me. Streaks of light zipping past as I ran faster than I'd ever been able to before. The pure smell of water and the strange way it tasted. Crashing through trees and leaping high enough to fly. Pain that defined every breath, each step more determined than the last to survive.
A telltale spasm jerked my abdomen.
My breath fogged as I gasped at the pain. Knowledge of what was happening did literally nothing to ease the transition. If anything, it made it worse. Now, I was waiting for the sickening feel of my ribs caving in and then pushing back out in a different shape. Waves of nausea poured over me, threatening to swallow me whole.
I clutched my stomach with claws that pierced the sensitive skin and looked up in search of peace. White light encompassed my world as the impossibly large moon filled my eyes. A shudder wracked my body as I continued to stare, completely enraptured. Then the change began in earnest.
Time became a blur, an hour, fifteen minutes, a few seconds, it was hard to say. When it was done, I lay there panting. Once my breathing steadied, I pressed my front paws into the earth. They sank slightly as I maneuvered myself off of the ground. My legs quivered, but didn’t buckle, while my ear twitched as the muted whisper of leaves shifting tickled it. I stared into the trees in search of the culprit.