Humanity for Beginners

by Faith Mudge

  Table of Contents

  Humanity for Beginners

  Book Details

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  About the Author

  Humanity

  for Beginners

  Faith Mudge

  Gloria did not intend to start a halfway house for lesbian werewolves. It just sort of happened. Between running a small bed-and-breakfast with her friend Nadine, helping one young lycanthrope adjust to life after the bite and soothing ruffled fur when the other brings home an unexpected cat, Gloria has more than enough to keep her busy, but one thing is definite: she is not nor ever will be an alpha, whatever Nadine says. And the ever-expanding circle of misfits in her guesthouse is certainly not a pack...

  Humanity for Beginners

  By Faith Mudge

  Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Keith Kaczmarek

  Cover designed by Kirby Crow

  This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition February 2017

  Copyright © 2017 by Faith Mudge

  Printed in the United States of America

  Digital ISBN 9781620049464

  One

  The thing no one warned you about when you became a werewolf―apart from the whole 'becoming a werewolf' in the first place, because it was hardly a popular lifestyle choice―was how your sense of proportion would get hijacked by a constant low-level grumble of 'why don't we just kill it', like having a homicidal toddler grizzling away at the back of your brain.

  That was the worst part, as far as Gloria was concerned: determining which emotion was you, the human, and which was the wolf, and whether either of them had a point or if you really were just a seething mess and couldn't trust your judgment until you'd had a nap and a cup of tea. Or killed something. That worked too.

  Everyone coped in their own way. In hindsight, it should not have been a surprise that Lissa brought home the cat, any more than it was surprising that she still drank milk straight from the carton and forgot to change the toilet roll. She was not so much thoughtless as thinking on a completely different track that only occasionally converged with the main network. Certainly, it should not have been surprising after that weekend in April when she took off to a music festival and didn't think to tell anyone where she was going, so that by the time she got back everyone was so sick with relief to see her alive and well that the secondary (though still almost overwhelming) urge to throttle her was successfully repressed.

  Unfortunately, however, it was Nadine who found a ginger stray eating sausages on her kitchen floor and not only was she surprised, she was furious. When Gloria pulled up outside the guesthouse an hour later, it was a battleground of shouting werewolves and Lissa had locked herself in the laundry with her new pet.

  The chief shouters were Nadine and Louisa; Damien was an enthusiastic supporter of Team Nadine until he caught Gloria's eye and remembered urgent chores elsewhere. The other two presented their cases loudly and with an equally passionate sense of injustice.

  "All right, just shut up a minute," Gloria interrupted at last. "Let's see if I've got this straight. Lissa found a cat?"

  "A stray," Louisa said at once. "A homeless cat. We have a moral duty."

  "Cats smell wrong," Nadine snarled. "They make me sneeze. Do you want a sneezing chef?"

  "You're just pissed off Lissa didn't ask you first!"

  "She should have asked! She's not a loner any more, she can't do whatever she wants. And she's thrown off my menu, I'll have to plan it again from scratch―"

  "That's enough," Gloria said, injecting enough force into the words to quiet both women. Nadine flinched instinctively at the commanding tone; a few years ago she would have bared her throat in submission. Louisa just pouted like a moody teenager, despite being a year into her twenties.

  "I'll sort this out," Gloria continued, gentling her tone for Nadine's benefit but fixing Louisa with a pointed look. "We have six guests to feed tonight, so pull together for a few hours, okay? Nadine, be a love and bring in the groceries. Louisa, get the tables ready and for pity's sake don't poll the guests about us adopting a cat."

  Louisa went pink. "I wasn't planning on it," she said with great dignity, and stalked off to the dining room, dark ponytail swishing.

  Gloria had had some idea of what she was taking on when it came to Lissa. The girl had been a loner long before she was turned and wasn't aware of half the defense mechanisms that drove everybody else mad. Domesticating her reminded Gloria a lot of renovating her grandad's old B&B―time-consuming, confusing, and with the very real danger it would all fall apart in her hands.

  The laundry door was locked. Gloria leaned against it for a minute, making sure Lissa knew she was there, before knocking lightly. There was no answer. Gloria gave it a couple more minutes before knocking again and saying, "You can't stay in there forever, you know. Louisa needs to get at the linen cupboard." She paused, then added reluctantly, "And I think I should meet this cat of yours."

  The door creaked open a crack, just enough to see one suspicious green eye.

  "I won't throw him back out," Lissa said. "No matter what you do."

  "If he stays," Gloria warned, "he's all your problem. He's not allowed in the guest wing, definitely not in the kitchen, and if you feed him Nadine's sausages again you're doing dishwasher duty for a month. Understood?"

  Lissa pulled the door all the way open and stood there with that wide happy smile that made her look about five and also irresistibly adorable. It got her out of more trouble than she knew. "Really? I can keep him?"

  "If you swear not to do this again," Gloria said resignedly. "And mean it."

  Still beaming, Lissa held up her pinkie finger. "I promise, Gloria."

  The cat was a foul-tempered tom with a scarred nose and a gutter mouth, crouching in the sink and swiping if anyone got too close. After the kerfuffle in the kitchen, Gloria didn't blame him. Probably the smell of werewolf was no help. He was hardly a bouquet himself, but Gloria supposed she would get used to a feline scent around the place and Nadine would too, if it stayed out of her kitchen. It would be good for Lissa to have something of her own to ground her here, Gloria reflected. Maybe it would discourage another festival episode.

  "Does he have a name?" she inquired.

  Lissa hovered by the washing machine, arms wrapped around herself, the way she stood when she was nervous or uncomfortable. She was too thin for her height, with a scruffy mop of blonde hair and holes in the knees of her jeans. Gloria was not a maternal woman―no matter what Damien said, what did he know―nor an enthusiastic cook, but whenever she looked at Lissa she wanted to sit her down and feed her toast. It was this quality that would make Nadine eventually forgive the sausage incident.

  "I want to call him Wellington," Lissa said shyly. "What do you think?"

  Gloria smiled despite herself. "That sounds fine."

  "Are they…" Lissa looked down, kicking at the floor. "Very angry?"

  "Grovel a bit for Nadine next time you see her," Gloria advised, but she knew that wasn't what Lissa really wanted to hear. "Louisa stood up for you. Was quite adamant about it, actually."

  Lissa ducked her head a bit further to hide her blush. "Really?"

 
"If I'd tried to give the cat away, she'd probably have incited a rebellion." Gloria sighed. "Not that she ever needs an excuse. Still, she'll want to see I haven't chewed you up too much, so go out and help her with the tables, would you?"

  "What about Wellington?" Lissa asked urgently.

  "Just leave him here for now. Write a note for the door, reminding everyone to keep it shut. He needs a bit of quiet, I think. For that matter, so do I."

  Lissa darted to the door, then popped suddenly back. "Gloria?"

  "What now?"

  Another brilliant smile. "Thank you."

  Gloria flapped a hand and wondered why she even pretended to be in charge.

  *~*~*

  Despite Nadine's dour predictions, dinner went off well. Louisa and Lissa had worked out a good rhythm for waiting tables, the guests all showed up more or less on time and no one decided to have a dramatic break-up mid-meal.

  As it was a pleasantly warm evening, Louisa had arranged everything outside, complete with golden fairy lights woven through the trellis, tea lights at every table and artfully scattered flower petals on the courtyard floor. The girl had an eye for casual glamour. She belonged in art school, painting cans of soup or naked people or whatever kids found edgy these days. Gloria planned on telling her so once she stopped storming out of rooms at the merest mention of her life before the bite.

  With the girls taking care of the guests and Damien helping out in the kitchen―which he insisted, accurately, was not a part of his job but ended up doing most nights anyway―Gloria could check on the chickens and take her usual stroll around the property. Walking the perimeter, she thought ruefully. She'd been out of the army for over a decade, but some habits died hard and she had not really tried to break them. With four lycanthropes and a particularly combative human all living in the same place, there was always a risk of attracting unwanted attention and keeping a wary nose out for unfamiliar smells was just good sense.

  The guesthouse had been in Gloria's family for three generations and had been a small farm for quite a lot longer than that. It was not so much a beloved inheritance as an expensive obligation–there was a family tradition of saddling it on whoever most needed to 'settle down'–but Gloria had spent summer holidays helping out her grandad ever since she was small and when he died, the familiarity of the place had been comforting.

  The house was an L-shaped cottage with a glass-fronted extension turning it into a U. There was a fishpond and flower garden for the guests on one side, a vegetable patch sprawling on the other and a few outhouses scattered around the back. The property came with two neighboring fields which Gloria leased out, and an orchard that had been shamefully neglected until Damien arrived. The trees were all properly pruned now and heavy with ripening fruit. Gloria's grandad would have liked that. She had no green thumb herself.

  Satisfied that everything was in order, she was returning to the house when a glimpse of headlights flashing through the trees made her realize someone was pulling into the drive. She quickened her steps to meet them. There were no arrivals expected, unless someone had called this afternoon, and Nadine had forgotten to say―and Nadine did not forget things like that, even while hysterical about cats.

  The car was small and sporty and expensive. Gloria's excellent night vision made it easy to assess the driver as she approached: a young man with dark hair and a rather lost expression, head bent towards his phone.

  "Hello there," Gloria called. "Can I help you?"

  "Yes," he said, a bit too devoutly, and stopped with momentary embarrassment. "Um. Have you any rooms available?"

  "You're in luck," Gloria told him. She took a discreet inhale. The boy smelled decent enough: soap and strong coffee, anxiety, leather from his upholstery. Underneath was something oddly familiar that Gloria couldn't quite place.

  "There's parking through there," she said, gesturing at the side lane. "You go round and I'll get you signed in. What's your name?"

  "Eben Seymour," he said, offering a hand. Gloria shook it, introducing herself. Eben was moderately tall―he had a couple of inches on her, anyway―with a firm handshake. Underneath his polite smile, he looked tired and rather sad. That motherly urge reared its head again, encouraging Gloria to take him inside and make him a cup of tea. She slapped it down irritably.

  There were two rooms free. Gloria gave them a swift inspection while Eben was parking and bringing in his luggage to be sure they were in an acceptable state, then showed him into the one with the nicer view. "A buffet breakfast is laid downstairs from seven," she told him. "That's included with the cost of your room. You can also book in for lunch and dinner, and I'm happy to give directions to local landmarks. I hope you'll be comfortable."

  "Thank you, this is lovely," Eben said. He had looked at nothing except the bed and was giving off a strong vibe of 'let me shut this door so I can crash with dignity'. Gloria left him to it, returning downstairs and crossing the courtyard to the staff area.

  Dinner was over and the girls were clearing tables. Had started, anyway. Lissa was miming a chase scene with salt shakers, apparently relating the story of Wellington's adoption, while Louisa stood watching with a tray-load of plates in her arms, dark eyes sparkling. She found it difficult to take most things seriously―which was lucky, since Louisa being truly serious was an intense and somewhat alarming experience. She was also surreptitiously wiping her nose with a tissue whenever Lissa turned her back. Gloria sighed, making a mental note to purchase antihistamines with the next grocery shop. Louisa was too stubborn―and loyal, for that matter―to ask.

  The staff dinner was a harum-scarum business, depending largely on how many guests stayed in to eat. Nadine could never relax until everyone else was fed so she ate late and Gloria liked to join her, settling at the kitchen table with a plate of leftovers, a glass of wine and the day's crossword open between them while the dishwasher clunked through its cycle.

  It was a hard-won domesticity. Nadine had been a jittery mess when she first arrived, worse in her way than Lissa. It had taken months to convince her that displays of obedience weren't necessary to keep her place and a few years more before she would talk about the pack she'd left behind. It had been a necessary time for them both. Nadine could speak her own mind now and Gloria could refrain from a constant repetition of how badly she wanted to kick Nadine's ex-alpha in the balls. They sat together in peaceful quiet, feet occasionally bumping under the table.

  "We have a new guest, by the way," Gloria remarked, after a while. "Arrived during dinner. I put him in room eight."

  "Another tourist, is he?"

  "I don't think so. He seemed a bit lost, to be honest."

  "As long as he's paying," Nadine said comfortably, leaning over to fill out eighteen across. She was a spare, neat woman with a nimbus of black curls, streaked with grey threads at the temples. Usually she tied her hair back in the kitchen but in the evenings she liked it loose, to run her fingers through while she worked at the puzzle. It was short enough to expose all the thick scars on her neck and right shoulder, where she had been clawed open nearly twenty years ago; she didn't bother hiding them, here.

  "The Helstons leave tomorrow, that's two rooms opening up. We could use a few more bookings. And cats," she added, snidely, "do not pay their bills."

  Gloria rolled her eyes. "He's forbidden from the kitchen, don't worry."

  "Lissa is hopeless. Has no respect."

  "Oh, she does. This is her way of showing it. She's brought us something she cares about―something that could anchor her here. That's a big gesture of trust, for Lissa."

  "There's already something she cares about here," Nadine said pointedly.

  Gloria smiled. "I'm not sure she's ready to admit that yet."

  "Well, she can't wait forever. Louisa's not a patient girl."

  "Louisa's perfectly capable of making a move herself."

  This particular dance had been going on for months, long enough that everyone had picked teams. Gloria tried to stay neutral, but
usually found herself defensive on Lissa's behalf, since Nadine and Damien were shamelessly pro-Louisa.

  "She's still getting used to her moon side," Nadine protested, like she hadn't been tearing ruthlessly into Louisa a few hours earlier. She phrased things like that the old-fashioned way, a pack habit she had never broken. Maybe, like Gloria, she hadn't tried. "It's only been six months. Louisa is more vulnerable than she makes out."

  That, unfortunately, was true. Dealing with lycanthropy-enhanced hormones was a messy, unpredictable business. Some werewolves managed to keep a reasonable hold on themselves at the full moon, while others went completely wild. It was always worse in the beginning. Gloria didn't envy Louisa the journey to self-control.

  There were coping techniques, of course. Going on the pill was a useful one, so you didn't have to deal with a double whammy of inconvenient biology each month. Around the full moon Gloria exercised harder and cut down on her caffeine intake, practicing deep breathing routines whenever she felt herself getting het up about something. Nadine handled it by distracting herself: trying a difficult recipe or binge-watching a new TV show. Nerves were her problem, another hang-up courtesy of Mr 'My Way or No Way' Pack Alpha.

  In really serious cases, medication could help, but Gloria hoped Louisa wouldn't ever need that. Contacting and reaching a doctor who understood the real situation was hideously difficult, and it was hard to predict which medicines would react badly to the lycanthrope immune system.

  With the next full moon just over a week away, Gloria pushed the problem to the back of her mind and refocused on the crossword. Only when it was complete, 'ambergris' having been triumphantly scrawled into eleven down, did she flip to the front page. Gloria rarely had time to read the paper during the day and didn't watch the news much either―she couldn't care less about sports or politics and if it was really important she was sure someone would tell her eventually–but though she was only skimming the pages, her attention zeroed in automatically on certain key words.

  MP comes out as vampire believer.