by Faith Mudge
Kidnapping linked to 'fairy ring'.
'Werewolves' sighted–are our children safe?
When Gloria was first bitten, those headlines would have been a bridge too far for the trashiest tabloid. Alien abductions and conspiracy theories about the moon landing were almost respectable, but children's stories and horror movie clichés had no journalistic merit. Not then.
Over the past fifteen years, things had changed fast. Gloria blamed the digital revolution. What chance had the supernatural against a smartphone? They were all living at a tipping point, science and social change colliding in the kind of mess even politicians couldn't ignore any more. Not that they weren't trying valiantly. "Queen Victoria said lesbians were an urban myth," was Lissa's take on the situation. There was probably a logical connection there if you thought hard.
Lissa and Louisa were watching the changing landscape of public opinion with mingled trepidation and excitement, following the discussion on social media, staying up until the early hours of the morning to wage comment wars with skeptics. Gloria was less enthusiastic. If you believed in something, you were more likely to notice when it was right under your nose, and once you knew where the monsters lived… Well, humanity had a bad track record.
Two
Gloria had not rescued Nadine. She had not known her, to know that help was needed. What she had done was put an advertisement in the newspaper for a chef, aware enough of her own limitations to recognise she'd kill business before she really started if she tried to feed guests with her own cooking, and a few days later Nadine had shown up on the doorstep with a cut-out of the ad in her hand. They had realised within the first two seconds of meeting that this interview was going to be both more and less complicated than they had anticipated.
Joining a pack at the age of seventeen, specifically one run by an alpha whose mindset would have been considered antiquated half a century ago, had not exactly provided Nadine with many career options. It was part of the reason she had stayed with the pack so long. One thing she knew inside out was how to handle a kitchen; she even had a couple of references from summer jobs before the bite and a small bed-and-breakfast seemed like the kind of place that might take her on. Gloria, who had been wondering how she was going to explain the gamut of full moon weirdness to staff, was faced with an unforeseen solution. They had been running the place together ever since.
There were eight guest bedrooms upstairs, carefully decorated and maintained―there was a cork-board in the kitchen where redecorating suggestions were pinned up, currently dominated by Louisa's detailed ideas–and four staff bedrooms below. Gloria's original plan had been to attract experienced wait staff with the prospect of a working holiday, and if that hadn't exactly worked out, she found she rather liked having everyone under her roof. Everyone except Damien, that was; he lived in a caravan behind the orchard, but appeared in the house at all hours, the better to be bothersome.
“I saw him talking to the new guest,” Nadine remarked in the morning, chopping spring onions at top speed while Gloria gulped toast. “It didn't look too friendly.”
“Damien being friendly would probably worry me more,” Gloria said, “but I'll ask.”
“And tell him to bring in more lettuce.” Nadine tipped her chopping board over one of the three frying pans sitting on the stove, the onions sliding into a buttery froth with a satisfying hiss. “By the way, the children in room five drew all over a wall. Lissa only saw it after their parents had checked out, so as she's scrubbing crayon off the plaster. You'll have to do laundry.”
Gloria sighed. “New rule: we check any room that's been occupied by kids before the parents can escape. Where's Louisa?”
“Ironing. Under protest. Follow the roar of Katy Perry if you want to find her.”
Despite her lengthening list of tasks, Gloria paused in the doorway to watch as Nadine diced tomatoes. There was a fine precision to her movements, an effortlessness that came with constant practice, but the fragrance she was creating was no less gorgeous for being familiar. She deserved a bigger, better kitchen than this one, not to mention a pay rise, and with anyone else Gloria would be pushing her to look for it, but she was selfish about Nadine, leaving offerings of shiny new processors and novelty ice trays every birthday and Christmas in the hope she would stay. So far, it seemed to be working.
If Nadine was her own personal domestic goddess, Damien was the awkward Wellington equivalent who had snuck in while she wasn't paying enough attention. He was a gardener and always smelled fantastic: earth and grass, worn down denim, mint from the chewing gum he liked. Sometimes Gloria was sure that smell was the only likable thing about him. He had shown up a few years ago to do a bit of seasonal work, taken one of his rare, inexplicable likings to the place, and had stuck around like glue. He was not a werewolf, though Gloria suspected he'd had experience with something like them before, since he had worked out the truth without anyone having to tell him. Typically, he'd dropped the information into casual conversation just to see how they would react. He was lucky Gloria hadn't punched him on the principle of the thing.
"What have you done now?" she demanded, cornering him by the cucumbers.
He blinked innocently. If she was twenty years younger and straight, it might have worked―as it was, she gave him the death glare and continued, "What have I said about baiting my guests? And don't think I've forgotten about your little shit-stirring experiment in the kitchen yesterday. As if you give a damn whether we have a cat or not."
"Nadine was upset," Damien protested. Never mind that it was Gloria who had given him this job, Nadine was and would always be his favourite. He slanted Gloria a sly look that made her give a preemptively exasperated huff. "Besides, Louisa was being so protective, it was bloody adorable. I couldn't resist."
"Was Eben Seymour being adorable too?" Gloria said tartly.
Damien wrinkled his nose. "Nah. He was asking stupid questions."
Gloria uncrossed her arms at that. "What questions?"
"Oh, whether we'd seen a car like his around here before, whether we had many guests from London pass through, all in that stiff toffy voice. He was asking to be wound up." Damien took in Gloria's expression. "Oh. Shit. What do you think he wants?"
"He might just be curious," Gloria said, uneasy. "Let me worry about it."
Damien snorted. "Someday I will convince you to stop saying that."
"Maybe someday you'll stop antagonizing people for fun," Gloria said severely. "We can all live in hope. Nadine wants lettuce, by the way."
'Adorable' was definitely applicable when Damien scurried off to oblige, but Gloria was too worried to smile. She turned to go inside, nearly tripping flat on her face when something small and ginger darted past. Gloria swore. The cat swore back. Resisting the urge to snarl–it sounded stupid in her human voice and gave her a sore throat, seriously not worth it for intimidating a daft cat–she pushed open the laundry door, heading for the dining room.
It being nearly seven, Louisa was setting the buffet table for breakfast while Lissa arranged flowers and stole shy glances at Louisa's ballet-dancer-elegant back when she thought she wasn't looking. The dining room was the biggest space in the guesthouse, bright and white with one wall all glass to overlook the rose trellis and beyond that, green fields. It smelled of fresh coffee and Nadine's cooking, but for once Gloria was not reassured.
"Hey, boss!" Louisa called cheerfully, catching sight of her. Lissa, much more sensitive to mood, tensed immediately.
"Have you seen―" Gloria began. She got no further, because at that moment Louisa dropped a stack of plates with a deafening crash that brought Nadine rushing out of the kitchen and made Gloria whirl around. In the doorway to the dining room, Eben Seymour was standing frozen with his mouth slightly open, like he'd planned to say something but forgotten he was actually capable of speech. He and Louisa were locked in a stare so intense Gloria didn't quite dare interrupt it. Oh, Lissa, was her first thought, quickly followed by, what the hell, Louisa?
Then suddenly Louisa was leaping over the minefield of broken plates and Eben was plunging through the doorway, and they were grabbing each other with cries of mostly incoherent accusation.
"How did you find me?" Louisa managed at last. "You gave me a fucking heart attack!"
"Couldn't have left a note, could you," Eben was snapping, apparently holding a different conversation. "No, I had to get a call from Dad―"
"―ditched my car before I left London, you couldn't have tracked that―"
"–been going mad, hunting down all your weird art friends for a hint about where you'd gone–"
"Christ, you didn't tell Dad?" Louisa grabbed Eben's shoulders with enough force to make him wince. "Tell me Dad isn't here."
"Of course he is, because I am a complete idiot," Eben retorted. "Honestly."
Over Louisa's shoulder, Lissa's heartbroken expression was shifting into tentative curiosity. Nadine gave Gloria a meaningful look―you can worry about this, telegraphed loud and clear–and went to fetch a dustpan.
"I take it you're not a tourist, then," Gloria said loudly.
Louisa and Eben turned to look at her and it clicked: the familiarity in Eben's scent from last night. It had been a trace of Louisa, very faint.
"Sorry," Louisa said, looking embarrassed. "This is Eben. My stupidly persistent brother." At Gloria's raised eyebrows, she added, "Adopted. I am, I mean."
Well, that explained the lack of familial scent. Werewolves did not make mistakes about things like that. Gloria turned a cautious smile on Eben, mentally re-evaluating him. Judging from the barrage of questions she'd just overheard, he did not know about Louisa's reasons for being here and had, until this moment, not known for sure that she would be here. Still, she looked happy to see him.
"Once you're done reunioning," Nadine said crisply, "please bring out the backup plates. Try not to break any."
"I'll pay for those," Louisa began, just as Eben tried to say exactly the same thing. They stopped mid-sentence to frown at each other.
"I'm not penniless, you know," Louisa said sharply.
"Forgive my not knowing your exact bank balance," Eben retorted. "Why is that? Oh yes! I haven't seen you in six months and you turn up waitressing in a rural B&B!"
"Guesthouse," Gloria corrected. "It sounds like you have a lot to talk about―" Louisa shot her a betrayed look, which Gloria ignored. "―but I'm afraid you'll need to do it elsewhere, breakfast starts any minute. Eben, why don't you wait outside and Louisa will come out once breakfast is served."
"Thank you," Eben said, with a return of his well-drilled manners. "I'll do that."
Once he was safely out of earshot, Louisa turned to Gloria with a panicked look. "I can't talk to him! He'll ask questions! He'll know I'm lying!"
Gloria sighed. "What would happen if you didn't lie?"
Louisa mouthed silently for a few seconds. "… I don't know."
"He found you," Lissa offered hesitantly. "He must care a lot."
"He's an idiot," Louisa muttered, but she glanced in the direction her brother had gone like she was thinking about it. Nadine cleared her throat pointedly and everyone got back to work, hurrying in and out of the kitchen to lay the buffet while the guests trickled in. Once there was nothing conceivable left to do, Louisa lurked in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee like it might hold her salvation. Knowing Louisa's caffeine habits, it was possible she believed it did.
"He's going to be angry," she said, "now he knows I'm all right."
"He's going to be angrier if you make him wait for hours," Gloria pointed out.
"I don't know what to say!" Louisa wailed. "What do I tell him? I mean, I can't even prove it. He'll think I'm off the planet."
"Calm down or you'll crack that cup too," Nadine said shortly.
"Is that seriously the best help you can offer?" Louisa demanded, outraged. "I need advice. Desperately! My brother is expecting an explanation for why I just walked out of my life to go wait tables in the Lake District!"
"Well, none of us can help with that," Nadine said, with unexpected heat. "When I left home, they all knew exactly why, and I promise you, no one was coming to bring me back. Not that I'd have gone if they had. The pack was everything. I had to walk out on them too, all because of one man, and if you think that doesn't hurt every day, if you think there aren't people I miss so much it aches, you're more self-involved than I gave you credit for."
Louisa was blinking bewilderedly at the onslaught. Lissa's chin had jerked up. If she could raise hackles in human form, she'd be puffed up with defensive indignation.
"She is not self-involved! You can't blame her―"
"She's bloody lucky!" Nadine snapped, with a distinct click of teeth. "What would you give to have a brother who wanted you to come home?"
"Let's not bring everyone else's problems into this," Gloria said warningly. Lissa was looking stricken and it was Louisa's turn to look furious on her behalf―really, how those two didn't realize what they had was anyone's guess. Gloria knew better than to touch Nadine while she was this upset, so she moved to stand a bit closer instead and added gently, "We all have different situations. Louisa, love, you have to do what you think is best. If you decide to tell Eben the truth, we'll back you up."
"But…" Louisa swallowed hard. "What if he hates me?"
Gloria reached out, resting her hands on Louisa's slim shoulders. "If he's worth loving," she said steadily, meeting Louisa's eyes, "he will not hate you. That doesn't mean he'll understand right away, or that he'll say what you need to hear. It will be a big shock. He might need a lot of time. But if he didn't intend to listen, I don't think he'd be here."
She nodded to Lissa. "And we will back you up, if you want to tell him the truth."
"I thought you wanted to keep it secret," Louisa whispered.
"I can make exceptions." Gloria turned her around and gave her a gentle push towards the door. "Go on. Go talk to your brother."
The kitchen was very quiet for a few minutes.
"Do you think she'll leave?" Lissa asked at last. "If he's okay with it?"
Gloria sighed. It was too early in the morning for hysterical confessions and tearful speculation. "Maybe," she said reluctantly. "I don't know. We'll see."
Nadine snorted. "And you say this isn't a pack."
"It's not," Gloria said, startled into mild hysteria herself. It was one of her cardinal rules: don't join a pack, don't start a pack, don't get caught up in any of that wolfy soul bonding nonsense at all. "I'd support Louisa if she wanted to leave."
"That's not what I meant," Nadine said, exasperated but somehow fond. She started clearing the table of mixing bowls and chopping boards. "You've only known her a few months and you want to stand guard over her whole life. That's what alphas do." Her lips tightened. "What they're meant to do."
"I am not an alpha," Gloria growled. "Don't even joke about that."
"It wasn't a joke," Nadine murmured. Lissa smiled at the floor.
Gloria chose to ignore them both.
Three
Alphas fought. That was how you knew they were alphas: they won.
Gloria knew her kind when she met them, but she had steered well clear until Nadine. Then they'd met Lissa in a supermarket and been so rapidly and enthusiastically adopted that Gloria had been morally obliged to take the girl in before a pack found her; and Lissa, in turn, had brought them Louisa after weeks of exchanging messages on Tumblr. Gloria had not intended to start a halfway house for lesbian werewolves, it had just sort of happened.
There had never been any question of dominance or leadership. Gloria owned the guesthouse. She paid the wages and handled the tax returns, and whenever a decision came up that no one really wanted to deal with, Gloria usually dealt with that too. It didn't make her an alpha. It made her a responsible adult.
She sat at the front desk, brooding. It was usually a comfortable task, giving Gloria a chance to catch up on emails and look over accounts in between answering the ph
one, or tinker with the website if she was in a creative mood. Louisa had suggested they start an Instagram account to show off Nadine's cooking and Damien's garden, and Gloria liked scrolling through the pictures during a lull.
Today was not that kind of day. Her senses were all strained, listening for the first signs of conflict. Eben had at least not gone running for his car and Gloria had heard no shouting either. That seemed like a good sign.
A selfish part of her would almost have preferred a fight. It would have been a distraction from her own thoughts.
Gloria had never told her family about her lycanthropy. It was an easy secret to keep. The bite had happened during a training exercise in Wales; a panicky new recruit who had been just as new to the transformation as Gloria soon would be. The attack was blamed on feral dogs for lack of a more convincing culprit. Gloria had been recovering on leave when the change hit for the first time.
The same fierce discipline that had got her through army training had been invaluable then. She had kept her mouth shut, too confused and afraid to tell anyone what was happening to her. The terror of it, her body so completely out of her control, still seeped into her nightmares. Later, once she'd figured out what to do, how to cope with it all, that would have been the time to tell her family. She had chosen not to–was still choosing that.
It wasn't so much a fear of being hated. She could not imagine her grandad hating anyone; if she'd told him before he died, he'd probably have made bad jokes about baths and vets and insisted she got it from his side of the family. Her parents would likely not take it so well. Still, Gloria had faith they'd get over it eventually. They had handled it all right when she told them she was gay―a bit awkward, frequently insensitive, doing their best to get better. These days her mum was always hinting she should make a move on Nadine… if she found out they were both werewolves she'd probably start planning the wedding. Once she got past 'werewolf', that was.
Gloria didn't want to tell her parents. This was something she could deal with on her own. Wonderful though her mum and dad undoubtedly were, the strain of explaining everything, of educating them and reassuring them, would be exhausting. It made her feel a fraud for her speech to Louisa in the kitchen, though.