by Drew VanDyke
“Naked,” Jackson smirked like a kid with a secret.
“It’s a nudist recreation area,” Sullivan informed us patiently. “We’re going to check it out as a possibility for our monthly retreats.”
I nodded that I understood.
“Hey, Ashlee does that too.” Will leaned forward, interested.
“What do I do?” I asked him. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“You know, go to that place up in Middletown sometimes.” He lowered his voice to a level he thought only I could hear. “For you, you know. Your time of the month.”
That’s what I’d told him. Heck, it was even true, in its way. “Harbin Hot Springs. I get a discount by helping them with the copy for their marketing materials. Perks of the industry.”
Harbin is a resort run as a spiritual retreat center, but I’d used it from time to time as a place to hunt during my shift. I didn’t realize he’d been paying that much attention.
“I’ve been to Harbin once,” Sierra said with a tone that said she didn’t think much of the place. “It’s quite rustic and very granola. If you like that sort of thing.”
Well, I do, I thought. I told her so.
“It’s too quiet for me.” She sniffed. “You can’t even talk in the meditation pools.”
“I guess that’s why they call it a meditation pool,” Will replied for me.
That was the second time in as many minutes he’d said what I was thinking. Amber and I used to do it all the time. I guess the closer you are, the more predictable you become. There was no reason to believe it was supernatural, right?
“Just because you don’t have the awareness it takes to appreciate the natural splendor of God’s creation in the form of Harbin doesn’t mean it’s not special to the rest of us,” I snapped as my inner wolf bared her fangs.
Wow, where did that come from?
“Ladies, please.” Will laughed and my eyes narrowed. I think he was actually enjoying this incipient catfight.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need a breath of fresh air.” I left before I said anything else that made me sound like more of an über-bitch than I already was. I walked toward the edge of the deck and lit up a clove. My fight-or-flight mechanism had kicked in and I needed to do some serious heavy breathing. I concentrated on calming myself as I inhaled the nicotine, letting it in and out in a long, slow draw. My heartbeat slowed.
Jackson sidled up and leaned on the rail next to me, but said nothing.
After a while, I said, “Is she always such a bitch or is it me?”
“Naw. Sierra’s always like that.” He plucked the cigarette out of my hand, took a drag and handed it back.
“Ew. Germs,” I found myself saying, but that sounded way too much like Amber for my liking. “Never mind.”
He laughed.
I inhaled the cinnamon-sweet smoke into my lungs and tasted the heat of the man on my lips. Then I looked at myself internally in horror, for at least two reasons. One involved the temptation to violate my exclusivity with Will, and the other… “Crap. I shouldn’t have shared my cigarette with you.
“Why? Oh, because you think you’re sick.”
“I am. I mean, I was. Just got my voice back this afternoon. Come to think of it…”
“Your recovery seems to have bordered on miraculous?”
“Yeah, now that you mention it.”
“It’s part of the pack’s healing magic. You may not be lycanthrope, but you benefit from our presence.”
“What, like in Cocoon, and you guys are the aliens in the swimming pool?”
“Better than Death Becomes Her.”
“Just as long as I don’t play the lead in Rosemary’s Baby.”
“Or better yet, either guy in Twins.”
“Okay, that one I don’t get.”
“Anyway...” Jackson chuckled.
“You know, you should have started with the perks if you wanted to sell me. Nothing like burying the lede…”
“Ha, ha. Back to Sierra…”
“Do we have to?”
“It probably comes from having been promised to me as a mate when we were kids,” he explained. “When I turned out to be gay, the whole trajectory of her life shifted.”
“So, I should feel sorry for her?”
“No. Just understand her attitude. She thought she was going to mate with an alpha male and be the alpha female. She only got half of the deal.”
“She could still mate with you once a month in wolf form, right?”
“That’s not enough for her, even if I were willing – and I’ve put her off until now. And she’s possessive. It’s hard enough for her to accept that Sullivan and I are together.”
“Then why’s she still hanging around?”
“She’s pack,” he said, as if that explained everything. And maybe it did. It wasn’t that different from a human family, though more defined and confining. Still, it was getting hard to hear that answer repeated every time someone wanted to sum up the status quo. It’s an answer that had a tendency to shut everyone up, an answer that short-circuited explanations and shot down discussions.
Nothing like family to discourage critical thinking.
“Come out with us, Ashlee,” Jackson cajoled. “Get to know us. Even Sierra. We’re not a bad bunch.”
I smelled Will before I heard him as he came up behind me.
“We should totally go with them, honey,” Will mocked, knowing I hated valley-speak.
I ignored it, turning with an elbow on the rail, clove held beyond. My eyes flicked between the two men. “This isn’t some frat-boy prank you guys cooked up to try to get me into my birthday suit in public, is it? And besides, Will, I’m more afraid of you burning that pasty white ass of yours.”
“Hey, if you can do it, so can I.”
I detected a bit of trepidation in his answer, but I had to give my boy credit for cheek.
When we got to Laguna del Sol, Will wasn’t nearly so confident as we stripped down into our altogether in the parking lot. Because that’s what you do when you go to a naturist resort. You doff your clothes practically the minute you walk through the gates. Of course, I brought an artfully placed sarong to give some minimal coverage and show off my best assets. I brought one for Will as well and he had that thing wrapped around him so tight I thought it was going to cut off his circulation.
Men seem to be hyper-consciously aware of their junk. I guess that’s what you get when you wear your arousal on the outside of your body. Gotta hand it to them, though. I don’t know if I would do half as well if everyone around me who had eyes to see could tell when I had a flush of sexual attraction.
Amber would be aghast if she knew I was doing this. Most of our family would. Except for Adam, but when you’ve been all over the world in Uncle Sam’s employ I guess you learn a thing or two outside of the conservative small-town world. I mean, being naked around one person is entirely different from being naked around several hundred.
I’ve found there’s a refreshing authenticity about most nudists. Sure, every once in a while someone seems creepy, but the community seems self-policing when people step out of line. The idea is, when you’re naked, nobody cares about the things you have, who you know, or what you drive. You’re all just children naked in the garden once again. And for a wolf in human clothing, it felt more than right.
We met for brunch at ten a.m. outside the resort restaurant and were joined by the rest of the crew. There were four: Darla and Twyla who looked like sisters, but I was told were cousins, and their prospective mates, Geoff and Neal. As the conversation flowed, I proceeded to familiarize myself with pack dynamics. It was like there was a natural pecking order that they all knew about, and I was the only one that couldn’t tell where I fit.
You know, they say ninety-nine percent of what we worry about never happens, but common sense doesn’t work on an anxiety-prone lupine like me. Yet, I took time to look around me and took it all in. They all had an amazing quality of comfort
with each other and you could tell that they really liked each other.
I’d kill to have that. A sense of ease is not something I associate with family. Usually when the Scott clan is together, I try to keep my opinions to myself and not get mad at each member of my family’s particular brand of narrow-mindedness, which, oddly enough, seldom overlapped.
I still had to work at not being judgmental. We’re all products of our upbringing. How much was our fault, how much our parents, and still more, how much was biology?
Biology…I sighed and rested back into Will’s arms and really looked at them, all of them: what I was starting to think of as the Knightsbridge Canyon pack.
My pack?
If so, how would Will fit in? Would he even want to? Would they let a mundane human in? Talk about your ultimate omega. He’d be only half a person to them, probably. It didn’t seem fair.
Sierra was beyond stunning and if it wasn’t for the inability of a shifter to retain the benefits of plastic surgery through a shift, I would have sworn she’d had work done. No, really. I knew I was cute in an all-American girl-next-door fashion, but Sierra was exotic. And muscular, but in a really feminine way. Like one of those aerobics-on-the-beach fitness gurus. She was turning heads wherever she went, even among the blasé not-polite-to-stare crowd.
I tried not to be envious, really I did. But she really had “it.” The kind of “it” that makes a girl question her own value and desirability.
Dex accompanied her everywhere, smiling like a cat eating cream as he basked in the shadow of her glory while waiting on her hand and foot. He must be her alternative plaything, as sexual access to Jackson was – bzrrt! – denied.
Damn. I am so not doing this, I told myself. Why compare myself to anyone?
Envy does not become you, I heard my mother whisper to me.
Oh my God! Mother!
And yes, of course, there she was – the only fully clothed being around – in a diaphanous gown of purest white, and more beautiful than all of us put together. Something about her bleed-over from the spirit world just made your heart ache and want to recite poetry that you hadn’t written.
Mother ruined the effect by standing on the surface of the water volleyball court – if you can call a pool a court – with a net dividing her body. She smiled up at the group and me as we dined at tables on the restaurant’s verandah. I rolled my eyes as a volleyball shot through her abdomen and I could see through the hole it left behind. I snorted, and had to hide my grin.
“What’s so funny?” Will whispered in my ear as the rest of the table made small talk while Sierra pontificated on her prowess at “real” volleyball, denigrating the “boys who stayed in the kiddie pool.”
“Nothing. Everything,” I said. I’m learning that sometimes you shouldn’t embark on verbalizing a thought until you’ve got it well articulated in your own mind. That’s why I prefer to write. I mean, if I said everything off of the top of my head without reflecting on its possible impact, I wouldn’t have any friends at all.
“So, Will…” Sierra interrupted. A barely perceptible beat. “And Ashlee, of course.”
We turned to look at her and Will caught the force of her right on his chin and slipped into that puppy dog look of amazement he gets.
I growled inside, but remained determined to be a grownup. Almost. I did step on his foot, breaking the spell.
“Are you guys going to join me on the hard courts, or are you going to play soft like the rest of these suckers?” Sierra asked. Or I guess I should say, challenged.
My wolf bared its teeth, dying to put her in her place.
“Not me,” Will said. “Ash is the athlete. I’m just the athletic supporter.”
That was true in its own way. Will had played some sports in high school, but he wasn’t what you’d call a natural jock.
The tension eased a bit as chuckles swept the group.
“I’m game.” I looked Sierra in the eye. “If you’re up for a smack-down.”
And she really did say it this time. What we were all thinking.
“Bring it, bitch.”
Chapter 4
The field was clay and doubled as a tennis court. You would think that the place would have a sand lot, I thought as I surveyed the lay of the land and players involved.
We joined a game in progress, evening out a five on five to a proper six per side. With a wide mix of ages, I was delighted that wearing shoes and loin coverings was kosher, especially for the guys. Nobody needs all that flopping around, doubly so as the clay threatened its own special kinds of rug-burn to anyone diving.
Sierra and I squared up at front of the court, center. She had about a foot on me and I wondered who had the higher jump and reach. Damn, I wish this was a basketball game, I thought. I just know this bitch can’t dribble.
It quickly became apparent that Sierra was a hotdog and a ball-hog, determined to make sure everyone knew how skilled she was. After a few run-ins with a well-placed spike and some flaming red impact splotches, I settled myself into the long haul of being a team player.
Bump. Set. Spike. Rinse and repeat.
I wasn’t the greatest spiker, though my bump was passable. It was my set that people really loved.
Sierra, on the other hand, took balls right and left until her team finally learned to call their shots and get out of her way.
Eventually she overreached herself trying to face-plant me with white leather. I grabbed her arm and yanked her into the net, our combined force bending the poles as we both landed with a smack on top of each other.
“Get off me!” she growled, and I unceremoniously put a knee into her abdomen as I scrambled, sliding off her sweat soaked skin. It was either kiss her or kill her and I really didn’t want to do either. But I did want to win.
Four points later, the score 20-19, my serve and our game point. I narrowed my eyes as the sun refracted and I teared up at the last moment, causing me to bobble, even though Mom did try to help by deflecting the ball back for a long volley, but at the end of the match, even with her hot-dogging hindering them, Sierra’s team still won and that smarted.
The game broke up and we all complimented each other insincerely on a game well played.
As I walked back to the water volleyball court in silence, Sierra sauntered up behind me. “Don’t feel bad, honey. I was training for the Olympics by the time I was out of diapers.”
I kept my mouth shut rather than sink to her level. I was still smarting and I didn’t like to lose, but the alternative was to look like a poor loser to her gloating winner. Better to ignore her and let others see what a douche she was being.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. I played a little water volleyball, and when I didn’t respond to Sierra’s continued veiled insults and barbs, they became not so veiled. She seemed determined to get a rise out of me. I stayed near Will, ignoring my nemesis and, truth be told, rubbing her nose in his devotion to me.
Unfortunately, this rebounded on poor Dex. The more he tried to be nice to Sierra, the worse she treated him. He took it all without complaint.
Dinnertime came and went and as the community gathered for the evening dance, the pack had grown restless, disharmonious.
Jackson took Sierra aside.
Not aside enough, though. Score points for being a shifter – really good hearing.
“You are out of control, Sierra,” Jackson told her in a no-nonsense sort of way. “We had this conversation before we left and you told me you could handle it.”
“I know,” she whined. “But it’s not fair! I was promised to you. Why does she get you?”
God, I hated when a girl whined, even when it was her. It made me feel better, though, to see that she was far from the invincible Valkyrie she tried to portray.
“Nobody gets me except for Sullivan. And the only reason I’m doing this is because I refuse to capitulate to pack custom. This is my way of circumventing the prohibitions and still fulfilling my responsibility as leader. You k
now I’d rather bring more wolves into the world than weres – of any kind, lycanthropes or lupines. Until our culture shifts, I’m not really interested in replicating the status quo.”
Was he saying that for me? I wondered. Sierra looked as if she’d heard it all before. Jackson had to know I was listening.
“Besides, you know my wolf just doesn’t feel that way about you.”
I lost the conversation there when Will sneaked up behind me and lay his head on my shoulder like a dog. “Where’d you go?”
I experienced a sense of déjà vu. Mom always used to ask me that, back before she transitioned. Transitioned. Huh. Such a strange word for death, but knowing what I know and seeing who I see…yes, you can say it. I see dead people.
She’d ask because I was such an energetic tomboy, forever haring off toward whatever seemed most interesting and adventurous, unlike Amber, whose focus was always on the girlie, the urban, the hyper-feminine. Clothes, accessories, nail salons, air conditioning…the mall, in other words.
Not that I minded a good mall. The difference was, I’d be browsing the sporting goods, the gift shops with the naughty greeting cards, or the emo-goth fashion shops trying on t-shirts with foul language on them. Either that, or sneaking into the “authorized personnel only” corridors that ran behind all the shops.
“Ash?” Will snapped his fingers in front of my eyes.
“Sorry. It’s been a pretty full day.”
“You know, we don’t have to stay any longer.” Will cuddled me closer. “We could blow this popsicle shop.”
“Demolish this hotdog stand.” I countered.
“Escape this clown circus.”
“Leave this omni-gerontological titty bar.”
“Showoff. You writers and your big words.”
“I’ll explain it to you later.”
“I can google it when I get home.”
I rummaged in my bag for my smart phone. “You can google it now.”
“You know I hate those things. My retro Nokia is good enough for me.” He switched to his over-the-top Scottish accent. “I hate the smart phone, with its wee beady screen and that smug look on its face.”