The Black Wolves of Boston (eARC)

by Wen Spencer

  "Sounds wonderful to me." Seth patted Joshua on the head, making him wag his tail. "Good job! I love pie."

  "Me too. Obviously it's a family trait," Cabot said. "Well, they're not going to do us any good in the freezer. I say: let the baking begin! What kind should we make first?"

  "Leave the pumpkin for Thanksgiving dinner," Seth said. "I say apple, peach, and pecan."

  "Which one of those?" Cabot examined the range, looking for the oven controls. "I like peach the best."

  "Make all three!" Seth said. "Fourteen pies. Five days. That's an average of three pies a day. Besides, I'm hungry."

  Joshua leapt from Seth's lap, over the back of the couch and landed as a human, able to do such things as operate an oven. "I'll do it. I've got some chicken potpies and frozen French fries too and extra chicken gravy. I can make those too."

  Cabot stared at Joshua. "Seriously, how does he do that?"

  "Do what?" Joshua glanced to Seth who was shrugging.

  "Your clothes," Seth said, which didn't explain anything.

  "What about my clothes?" He was wearing blue jeans and one of the green shirts that the wolf liked. He'd been feeling stressed out so he'd picked clothes that would comfort the wolf.

  "We take ours off." Cabot leaned against the kitchen island. "Shirt, pants, underwear. Everything goes."

  "Do they get lost sometimes?" Joshua had given up on washing his clothes every time he transformed. He was growing used to them smelling of deep woods. He'd never considered that they might not return. He was usually too worried about whatever triggered his transformation---and sometimes crushing Decker.

  "If we don't take them off, they get ripped to shreds," Seth said. "Kind of like the Hulk. Boom! Hulk smash."

  Joshua shifted, trying for big. He went too big and bumped his head on the ceiling. He transformed back to human. He was still clothed.

  Cabot jerked back, swearing. "Seriously! How is he doing that?"

  Seth spread his hands. "He's shunting the extra mass to and from the Source. I think he's somehow storing his clothes along with whatever mass that he exchanges."

  "You guys change size." Joshua had seen Cabot, at least, in "big dog" and "super scary wolf" mode.

  "Yeeeeeaaaah." Cabot made the "yes" sound like a "no."

  "It would be cool if we could figure out your clothes trick," Seth said.

  "I want to know how you can talk," Joshua said. "When I try to talk as a wolf, even I can't understand what I'm saying."

  Cabot snickered.

  "It's easy to learn," Seth said. "I'm surprised you didn't figure it out already, but our dads showed us. Food first!" He pointed at the kitchen. "Everything is harder to do if you're hungry."

  44: Decker

  Five thousand dollars' worth of seating and the wolves were in a puppy pile on the floor. Decker decided that he should be happy that at least they weren't gnawing on the expensive leather.

  The three black wolves were nearly equal in size. He could tell them apart only by the fact that the prince and his cousin were wearing boxer shorts. The prince's was red plaid while the Thane's was dark blue. The underwear was never intended to be worn by werewolves; an extra hole had been torn for the wolves' tails. The rest of the visitors' clothes were scattered about the living room. Whatever triggered the disrobing had ceased to occupy the wolves' attention and they were now watching a movie and giggling like little boys. The movie had a bunch of men dressed as knights pretending to ride horses while men ran behind them clapping coconuts together.

  Joshua was tucked between the two others. The message was clear; the prince had come to protect his brother.

  Decker carefully considered everything he could say to announce his presence. He settled for "Click clack click clack" and sat down on the couch where there was plenty of room for Joshua to join him.

  "Decker!" Joshua leapt up and landed in Decker's lap. Thankfully between floor and couch, he shrank to puppy-size. "I can talk! The quick black wolf jumps over the lazy Grigori."

  "Wonderful." Decker hugged him. "I wouldn't say that around Elise though. She might hurt you. Pride might be a sin but that doesn't seem to stop the Grigori."

  "Ah, right." Joshua settled onto Decker's lap, much more relaxed than he had been last night, but clearly not totally back to an even keel. Decker had felt horrible having to abandon his boy at dawn when Joshua seemed close to losing his sanity. Decker's cursed existence only felt like a curse when it affected the ones he loved.

  "Seth brought lots of cool old movies with him," Joshua said. "We're watching---what are we watching?"

  The Seth wolf gave Decker a level, calculating look and then focused back on the television. "Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Our father loved comedies. We'd watch his favorites every year during the holidays. It was our family tradition. His copies were burned with our house, but I've bought my own."

  Puppy ears drooped a little. "My grandmother would put on the dog show after the Macy's parade. She breeds Jack Russell terriers. I was the only one that they liked. We didn't do anything together as a family except talk about stupid stuff like---like---a whole hour of talking about stinkbugs. After dinner, it would be grandpa's slide shows of their trips to dog shows all over the country. Which wouldn't be so bad but grandpa always cuts people's heads off when he takes their pictures."

  "There's Easter," Decker promised lightly. Joshua would be eighteen then and his parents wouldn't be able to turn to the police to control where he lived.

  Seth looked up again, this time worried, but he said nothing. Two little lost boys. One helpless to save the other.

  45: Elise

  Cabot had called to say they were eating in the afternoon but let slip that none of the wolves had ever cooked a turkey before. At one earlier point, during an odd conversation about a carton of milk that had gone bad in her refrigerator, he also admitted that werewolves didn't get food poisoning. Between the two facts, she decided it would be in her best interest to be there when the three wolves started to prepare the food.

  As added insurance, she made two plates of deviled eggs to take with her.

  What she hadn't considered was how to get the eggs to Decker's. They were slippery little things, skidding about on the plates. With the streets basically sheets of ice, she didn't want to be distracted by little egg bombs pelting her as she dodged bad drivers. (As it was a holiday, it was guaranteed that she would pass at least one car spinning out of control.) Tupperware would work---if she owned any. All the stores were closed. She stood at her counter glaring at the eggs. What could she use as a carrier?

  Half an hour later, one facial tissue box mummified in aluminum foil and filled with deviled eggs, she was ready to go.

  "You haven't started the turkey yet, have you?" she texted Cabot.

  "Just finished breakfast and cleaning up. We'll tackle the turkey next."

  She had to hurry then.

  She jerked open her apartment door and Joshua's sister Bethy stood in front of her, hand upraised to knock. "What in God's name are you doing here?"

  "You!" Bethy pointed at her fiercely. "You know where my brother is."

  Elise stood there a moment wondering if she could get the girl tied up and stuffed into a closet before the wolves started their turkey cooking attempt. Unlikely. Bethy was a black belt in God knows how many martial arts. "How did you even find me?"

  "I took pictures of your and Porsche boy's license plates. A friend of mine ran them for me at the DMV. The Boxster was leased by some real estate company in Manhattan."

  Which would seem like a dead end for someone who didn't know about the Wolf King.

  Elise pulled shut her door and made sure it was locked.

  Bethy shifted to block her escape. "We're not going anywhere until you tell me where my brother is."

  "I'm going to see him right now. You can come with me."

  Bethy frowned at her like the invitation was a trap. If they didn't get there soon, it might be.

  46: Joshua />
  Three werewolves stared at one very naked turkey.

  "There. Not so brave without your plastic covering, are you?" Joshua poked at it.

  "Do you always talk to your food?" Seth had opened the box of oven bags and was examining the contents in confusion. They had assembled everything to prepare the turkey on the kitchen island from the turkey itself to various raw vegetables to a ten-pound bag of flour.

  "Only when said food has been terrorizing me for weeks." Joshua picked up the plastic oven bag. It unfolded and unfolded to a huge size. "So we just stick the turkey in this and cook it?"

  Cabot picked up the turkey and shook it at Joshua. "Stuff me! Stuff me! Gobble, gobble, gobble."

  "That's your job, Cabot," Joshua said.

  Seth found the cooking guide. He pointed at Joshua. "Preheat the oven to three hundred and fifty. Jack..."

  "Yes, sir?" Cabot made the turkey salute with its right wing tip. Something slithered out of the body cavity and dropped to the ground. "Sir, I think I just shit myself!"

  "What the hell is that?" Joshua laughed.

  "Those are my privates, private!" Cabot cried.

  "I think that's the neck and the giblets." Seth pointed at the sink. "Jack, its pissing blood everywhere. The recipe says to rinse it off and pat it dry."

  "Yes, sir!" Cabot made the turkey salute again and then turned it upside down to stem the flow of blood. Something else fell out of the neck opening and landed with a wet splash on the tile floor.

  "Cabot!" Joshua laughed harder.

  Jack glanced down at the bloody objects on the floor. "I think those are the giblets. That other thing is either its neck or turkeys have bigger dicks than I thought."

  Trouble came streaking around the corner to leap on the bloody bag.

  "No!" Joshua cried.

  He and Seth both leapt to grab the giblets and collided. Seth kicked the neck in the scrabble and it went skidding across the floor, leaving a blood trail behind it.

  "Not under the fridge!" Joshua shouted even as the column of raw meat disappeared underneath the big refrigerator.

  Seth shouted something like "grab that" and then suddenly the room was filled with a hazing of white flour.

  "Trouble! Trouble!" Cabot shouted, dancing about, looking for someplace to land the turkey while trying to herd the ginger kitten with his feet. Flour drifted down like dry snow.

  The doorbell rang.

  "Get him!" Cabot cried. "I think we need that for the gravy!"

  Joshua and Seth lunged again and collided again.

  "You get him, Joshua!" Seth cried, rubbing his temple and backing away.

  The kitten was greatly hampered by the number of feet trying to block him and the fact that the giblets package was the same size as it. Still he growled angrily as Joshua caught him and attempted to gently wrestle the bag away.

  "We will give you lots and lots of turkey later," Joshua promised. The paper bag squished wetly in his hand and the smell of blood filled his senses.

  ...wetness sprayed his face, blinding him. He blinked rapidly. Tasted the blood. Realized what just covered him...

  "Joshua?" Seth crouched beside him.

  Joshua realized that tears were pouring down his face. "The blood," he whispered. "There was so much blood."

  He went to wipe the tears from his cheeks but Seth caught his hand.

  "You're going to make a mess." Seth kept hold of Joshua's hand holding the giblets. "It sneaks up on you when you least expect it. One minute you're fine and the next you're lost in the grief." He patiently wiped Joshua's face with his shirt cuff. "It will hurt bad for a while, but it gets better. You just got to hold on and be strong."

  "Cabot," Elise's voice came from the other side of the kitchen counter. "What the hell are you doing?"

  Cabot turned, still holding the turkey, covered head to toe in flour. "What does it look like?"

  "Like you're doing some kind of odd Mexican tag team wrestling, which is why I asked."

  "Si," Cabot said in a Mexican accent. "I am El Hijo del Thane and this is my partner, El Pavo Desplumado!" Cabot had the turkey shake a naked wingtip at someone behind Elise. "She should not be here. This is not the right time for visitors."

  Elise leaned across the counter and looked down at Seth and Joshua. "Oh. I see. Let's go."

  A familiar, annoyed "What?" came from the dining room. "We just got here."

  Joshua whimpered as he realized who was with Elise. It was his sister, Bethy.

  "I'm not leaving until I see my brother!" Bethy said.

  Seth stood up and Cabot put the turkey on the counter.

  Bethy was about to meet his protective new family in worst possible way.

  "I'm fine!" Joshua cried. "It's okay. Just---just---just get the damn turkey into the oven. I don't want to see it again until it's cooked."

  Everyone stood around and glared at each other. Joshua was sure the damn turkey was snickering. He got up, threw the giblets into the sink, and scanned the counter for the oven bag. It looked like it had snowed in the kitchen; flour coated everything.

  "Stop playing with the turkey and rinse it," he snapped at Cabot as he swept flour off the countertop. What did he do with the bag? There were two in the box. "We need to make the stuffing. Somehow. I had a recipe writ---writ-writ..."

  He sneezed.

  Bethy leaped back swearing in surprise.

  Elise blocked her from running. "You wanted to see him. There he is."

  Bethy was the only one looking at him. Everyone else was glaring at his sister; ignoring the draft-horse sized wolf in the kitchen.

  "Oh freaking h-h-h---" Joshua sneezed again.

  Seth leaned down and picked up the puppy. "Jack, get the turkey in the oven."

  "Will do." Cabot continued to glare at Bethy.

  Joshua was sure that the turkey was gloating as Seth carried him upstairs to hide in his bedroom.

  47: Seth

  Seth's father had always told him that as prince he'd need to be the bedrock for his pack. He never told him, though, how to put his people back together once they'd come undone. Seth sat on the floor of Joshua's bedroom, holding the whimpering puppy and feeling useless. Had he done the right thing leaving Joshua in Boston? What should he say to Joshua about the massacre? He knew from experience that nothing anyone said actually helped ease the pain of losing everything. It seemed wrong not to say anything; maybe that was why people kept saying all the stupid stuff to Seth when his family had been killed.

  What should he do?

  The first time Seth had seen his brother was in this room. It had been empty except for an airbed. It didn't even have curtains. Three weeks had made a world of difference in the bedroom. It now held a queen-sized platform bed, two nightstands, a dresser, a chest of drawers, and a computer desk all in a dark thick Asian style. A large oriental rug, floor length curtains, fantasy prints of dragons, and a variety of lamps completed the bedroom into a comfortable space.

  It was a far cry from the tiny closet-sized room that Joshua used to have at his adoptive parents' house. Seth knew first hand that a big private space and a big bed did little to repair a hole left by being torn away from your family.

  "I'm sorry," Joshua whimpered. "I didn't see it coming. I was laughing at Cabot and all of the sudden I was back at the barn, covered with blood. But I was coping! I was! I really hate this part of being a werewolf. Everything will be fine and then something happens and it's like someone else steps into my skin and I'm this!"

  It wasn't clear if "this" was being a puppy or whimpering loudly or both.

  "It gets easier," Seth said. "You get to recognize when the wolf is about to take over and head it off. Give it time."

  "God I'm so tired of the waiting. Wait until you can drive. Wait until you can go to college. Wait until you can leave all the bullies behind. Wait until you grow up enough to do everything you want to do."

  "Yeah, I know. Same here." Seth realized that he hadn't thought about college for days. He'd been
fixated on going to Harvard since his family died. He'd even skipped a grade to make it happen sooner. "College" one time meant returning to Boston and truly start being a prince. He'd been furious when the king declared he'd go to Columbia in New York City instead. Then all the chaos with the Wickers happened, and college became unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

  The puppy scrambled out of Seth's arms to trot to the bed. "I love my parents, but the longer I've lived here in Boston, the less I want to go back to their house. I like having a bed that I don't need a ladder to get into." The puppy leapt onto the mattress to demonstrate. "And that little railing---the one the keeps you from falling to your death in the middle of the night---always made me feel like I was still in a crib. My desk was under my bed and if I stood up wrong, I'd hit my head."

  Maybe Seth was wrong about the worth of a bigger room and bed.

  The puppy bounced up and down on the mattress. "It rocks that I will never again have to eat liver and onions again, or hamburger slop or the kitchen sink."

  "Hamburger what?"

  "Oh its browned hamburger with cream of mushroom soup and mixed vegetables. The kitchen sink is what my mom calls putting all leftovers into a soup. She usually makes it on Wednesdays because Thursday is trash day. I like to keep all my food separated and eat one thing at a time. It's a little OCD of me..."

  "It's a Tatterskein thing. Our father always ate everything carefully separated like that." It was a habit that enraged his Mexican mother. "Jack does it too."

  "It's genetic? How weird but awesome. I'm not going back to my old school. Not even the teachers were nice to me." The puppy flopped down onto the bed and sighed deeply. "Why is Bethy even here? She doesn't even like me!"

  Seth thought of his first meeting with the woman. After beating him with a bamboo sword, she'd broken down and cried over her missing little brother. "No, I'm fairly sure she loves you very much. She drove through a blizzard and cornered a Grigori Virtue just to see you. People don't do that when they hate someone."