Eyes Like a Wolf

by Evangeline Anderson

  “Family,” I repeated, hugging him back, thinking that I finally understood. “And we'll always stay together.”

  Chapter Two

  “Look at my daughter's face and tell me again how you want to press charges against my son.” My mother dragged me forward, pushing me almost directly into Mrs. Jenkins's massive, out-thrust bosom.

  “Well!” The pointed bosom heaved with indignation. I avoided it as well as I could, looking miserably down at my feet.

  “Let her see your face, Rachel.” My mother raised my chin forcibly, and I found myself looking into the close-set, angry eyes of Todd's mother.

  “The boys said they were just having a bit of fun and got carried away.”

  “Got carried away? They nearly took out my daughter's eye!” My mother pointed to the deep gash over my forehead. It was trickling blood again, despite the fact that she had treated it with antibiotic ointment the moment she'd gotten home and seen the damage. “That will probably turn into a permanent scar,” she said in a low, angry voice, so much different that Mrs. Jenkins's affronted bugling. “You're lucky we don't insist you pay for a plastic surgeon.”

  “Plastic surgeon? My son's arm was dislocated! He may never pitch a baseball again.” Mrs. Jenkins pressed forward angrily, as though trying to use her bosom to get a foot in the door. I would have giggled at the mixed metaphor if I hadn't been feeling so wretched.

  “Then maybe he won't be able to throw a rock either,” my mother said.

  Mrs. Jenkins fell back, her high, lacquered hair bobbing in defeat. But she still had one weapon left in her arsenal, and she didn't mind using it. “You Kemets are all just freaks,” she hissed. “Nobody in town wants you here, and the sooner you realize that and pack up and move off, the better it will be for all of us.” Then she turned on her heel and marched down the echoing wood planks of our wide front porch, her impressive bosom preceding her.

  My mother slammed the door on her retreating form. “Come on, Rachel,” she said, tugging me further into the house by the arm. Her mouth had thinned into the narrow white line that told me she was really upset. I wished I could sink into the ground and disappear. Lately, it seemed like Mom was always upset, and I hated the fact that I had been the cause of it this time.

  The front door slammed again, and we turned in time to see my father come in the door, a briefcase in one hand and a quizzical expression on his handsome face. “I just saw Mrs. Jenkins on our front walk, and she didn't answer when I said hello. Is there a problem, Lillian?”

  “You're damn right there's a problem,” my mother spat. “Just look at her face—the Jenkins boy did that.” I cringed, both at her tightened grip on my arm and the forbidden word. No one was supposed to swear in my family, but my mother forgot this rule when she got upset.

  “Rachel.” My father's pale green eyes dropped to mine, filled with a weary kind of resignation. “Come give me a hug and run to your room. It's bedtime.”

  It was only seven o'clock and still light outside, but I didn't argue. When Mom got into one of her towering rages, it was always up to Dad to calm her down. Richard and I just tried to stay out of the way.

  My father hugged me tight and close for a long moment, and I smelled the masculine scent of his aftershave and the cigars he sometimes smoked. Under that was a base note that I simply thought of as “Daddy.” It was a comforting scent, one that Richard was coming to have as well as he grew older. Maybe the scent was a part of our family or the mysterious tribe of Amon-kai, I don't know. I only know that in later years I could never bring myself to trust a man without it.

  My father released me and sent me upstairs with a pat. I went to my room, which was decorated in climbing roses and delicate lace. It had a canopy bed and a small make-up table that was an exact copy of the larger one that my mother had in her room. Mine was the bedroom of a little princess, but this time the graceful decor gave me no joy. Downstairs I could hear my parents fighting—again.

  “…not right!” My mother's voice had risen from its usually well-modulated tone to a high, angry pitch that hurt my sensitive ears. “The way we live—the way we are. It's not right.”

  “It's the way things have always been for our people—for the Amon-kai.” My father's voice was lower, soothing. “Please, Lillian, you can't listen to women like that close-minded shrew.”

  “It's not just her, Nathaniel, it's the whole town. They think we're freaks.”

  “Who cares what they think?” my father demanded.

  “I do,” my mother cried. “Because what if they're right? Did you ever think of that, just once, Nathaniel? Did you ever stop to think that maybe the precious 'teachings' our parents passed down to us are all just twisted foolishness and sick lies?”

  “Of course not.”

  I heard his measured tread on the floor below, then my mother hissed, “Don't touch me!”

  “Please, Lillian.” My father's deep voice was desperate, but my mother was obviously past caring.

  “Do you know what they'd think of us if they really knew? Knew the whole truth? What we are—what our children will become?”

  “I don't care what anyone thinks—I only know I love you. And our children are beautiful—perfect. Rachel and Richard both, even if Richard isn't ours by blood.”

  “So perfect their classmates tease and taunt them? So perfect they throw rocks and call them freaks?” My mother's voice had risen to a knife's edge of hysteria that really scared me. I balled myself up on my bed, pressing a lace-covered pillow over my ears, but I could still hear.

  “We should have known better, Nathaniel,” my mother shouted. “We should have known we'd never be accepted.”

  “We're different,” my father soothed. “People are afraid of anything different…”

  “Well maybe they're right to be afraid! Richard dislocated Todd Jenkins's arm today—we're lucky they didn't call the police.”

  “He was protecting his Lana-zeel,” my father protested. “It's no more than I would have done if someone tried to harm or threaten you, Lillian.”

  “It's wrong. We're wrong,” my mother said. “And I'm tired of being different—of sticking out in a crowd and attracting attention. I don't want this kind of life anymore. Not for me and not for my daughter.”

  “What are you saying?” My father's voice was low and tense. I could hear the muffled sound of his pacing across the living room carpet downstairs.

  “I'm saying I need to leave. I need to get away from this relationship and everything to do with it. Maybe it's too late for me, but it's not too late for Rachel. I don't want her innocence to be taken at such a young age. I don't want her choices limited, her life laid out for her before she's had a chance to consider the possibilities.”

  “There are no possibilities outside the Amon-Kai,” my father said in a low, tense voice. “And her innocence belongs to her mate—to Richard. The same way yours belonged to me from the moment we were bonded.”

  “I'm not talking about me,” my mother spat. “I'm talking about Rachel.”

  “And if you leave and take her with you, what happens then?” my father demanded. “What about me? What about Richard?”

  “You two can keep each other company. Rachel and I can start a new life—far away from here.” My mother's voice was cool now. I had heard her threaten to leave before, but never in this calm tone of voice. I felt a shiver of fear coat my bones.

  “You're not serious.” But my father sounded uncertain. “You know how much I need you—how much Richard is going to need Rachel in a few more years. You can't separate them now, Lillian. Not when they're so close to their bonding ceremony. They'll never find what they need outside each other now.”

  “I can separate them, and I will.”

  “I won't let you go.” My father's voice had dropped to a menacing growl. “You know that, Lillian. I can't.”

  “Do you really think you can watch me every minute?”

  “If I have to. Come here!”

  “Why
? So you can give me more freak children? So you can convince me to stay one more time and let my daughter go through the same barbaric initiation I went through? How old was I when you first took me, Nathaniel? When you first raped me? Was I fourteen? Fifteen, when you came to me as a beast?”

  “You were seventeen—the age of consent among our people,” he reminded her. “Almost the age of consent among the humans. And I might have come to you in beast form, but don't say I raped you, Lillian. Not when your body wanted mine so much I could smell your heat a mile away. I still remember how wet you were—how ready. The way you're ready for me now.”

  “Just because you can make my body react doesn't mean I want you.” My mother's voice was still cold. “And don't try to pretend that was the first time you ever came to me. What about all those nights before you first bred me when you snuck into my room? The way you touched me, made me open to you…”

  “It's the way of our people.” He sounded tired, as though they had been through this argument a thousand times before and he knew he couldn't win it. “You know that, Lillian. The Lana-zeel needs to get used to the idea of taking her Lanor-zur as a lover long before the first breeding. She needs to know his scent, his seed, his essence bathing her sex, even if there is no actual penetration.”

  “Lies and excuses. The sick teachings we were taught to think of as some kind of a holy gospel.” My mother's voice was bitter now. “You came to my room, and no one stopped you, even though my parents and yours both knew it was happening. You…you took what I didn't want to give. And in the process, you forced my body to become addicted to yours. That's why I'm weak now, why I can never say no.”

  “You can't say no because we love each other. Because we were made for each other, the way Rachel and Richard were made for each other.” My father's voice was calm and reasonable.

  “No! More lies, Nathaniel. Always more lies—I'm sick of it! I'll be damned if I sit back and let Rachel suffer through the same ordeal I endured. I don't want to see her chained naked to a rock, forced to submit—”

  “You know damn well that isn't how it's done anymore,” my father growled. “It doesn't have to be that way, not with the bonding ceremony.”

  “So what will we do, Nathaniel? Look the other way when Richard's instincts start to rise and he begins sneaking into her room at night? Should I ignore it the way my mother did when I go to tuck her in at night and find he's been at her?”

  “Richard would never do anything Rachel didn't want or ask for.” My father sounded certain. “He loves her dearly—too dearly to scare her by moving too quickly. It will be years before he comes to her that way.”

  “Oh, I see.” I could almost see my mother nodding her head sarcastically. “So we should just wait and let her find out on her own, on her eighteenth birthday, what he really has in store for her. We should let him change before he takes her—come to her as a beast. The way you came to me.”

  “You accepted me, Lillian. I knew you were willing. But no, it doesn't have to be that way. If Rachel doesn't wish it, she'll never have to see Richard's beast at all. Because she'll help him control it—the way a proper Lana-zeel should.”

  “Why should her life be sacrificed for his? Why should she waste her future with him, controlling his beast, when she could have so much more?”

  I didn't understand a word they were saying, but I knew there was nothing more I wanted out of life than to be with Richard forever. I wished that I dared to go to the foot of the stairs and tell my mother so, but the icy tone of her voice told me that my opinion would not be welcome. Besides, my father was still arguing with her, still trying to talk her out of her rage.

  “More in the human world, you mean?” I heard him say. “More in a world where she has no hope of finding a mate? Just because we look like them doesn't mean we're sexually compatible, Lillian; you know that. Look at me and tell me you could bear to have another man—a human man—touch you the way I do.” The floorboards creaked, and I imagined him reaching forward to take her hand.

  “Get away from me!” Her voice was sharp, but there was a breathless quality to it, too. An unwilling eagerness I found hard to make sense of. How could something you didn't want make you so excited?

  “No, Lillian.” My father's voice was lower than a growl now—it was animal, inhuman in a way that both frightened me and called to me. “You say you don't want me, don't need me the way I need you. You pretend to hate the beast I keep inside.”

  “I…I do.” But again her voice was uncertain.

  “Then why do you spread your legs so much faster when I change? Why is your body so wet and willing the moment I shift to my other form? You put me off and make me chase you when I look like a human. But the moment I let the curse overtake me, you're on your hands and knees practically begging for it. Begging to have me inside you, filling you with my knot. Breeding you.”

  “I…I don't know what you're talking about. You're lying!”

  “No, you're the one that's lying, and the only one you're fooling is yourself.” My father's voice was so deep now I could barely understand him. “You're denying the Amon-kai part of yourself, the part of you that needs me and the beast within me.”

  “No…”

  “Yes.” His harsh voice was unyielding. “You can deny it for yourself, Lillian, but I'll be damned if I'll let you deny it for our daughter. The bonding ceremony will take place next week. Rachel and Richard will be together for life, the way you and I will be together. Always.”

  My father's last word ended in what was almost a roar, and then there were sounds of a scuffle that drew hot, frightened tears to my eyes. I knew my parents were rough together sometimes, but they always seemed content afterwards. This time I wasn't so sure there would be a happy ending.

  My door creaked open, and I looked up to see Richard standing there in his pajama bottoms with a finger to his lips. I motioned him inside, and he shut the door and came to join me on the bed, curling protectively around me.

  “They're fighting,” I said, my voice squeezed tight with tears.

  “I know.” His own voice broke a little bit, but he pulled me closer, wrapping me close in his arms.

  “Richard,” I said, wanting to drown out the sounds of the fight downstairs. “Mom wouldn't really leave him, would she? She wouldn't really take me away from you?” It was the worst thing I could think of—being separated from my older brother, my protector, my best friend.

  In the past, Richard had refuted my fears, offering me peace. But this time he only said, “I don't know.”

  “But she can't!” I protested, much as my father had. “I need you, Richard. If she takes me away from you, who's gonna take care of me?”

  “Shh.” He stroked my hair comfortingly. I could feel his heartbeat, a steady rhythm against my back. The noises from downstairs had quieted somewhat, and the angry shouts had turned into something else—a heavy panting and moaning I didn't understand. Almost all of my parents' fights ended like this.

  “What are they doing?” I whispered, not really expecting an answer.

  “He's breeding her,” Richard said flatly. “Fucking her.”

  I twisted in his arms to face him, shocked beyond measure at this most forbidden of words.

  “What did you say?”

  Richard's face had gone red, and he shook his head. “Never mind, Rache. You're too young to understand.”

  “Am not! Tell me—please?” I wheedled.

  But Richard shook his head again, more firmly this time. “You'll understand when you're older,” he said. “It's part of being of the Amon-kai. All you need to know for now is that Dad is giving Mom a reason to stay. She talks about leaving, but she knows deep down she could never be happy with anyone but Dad. He's just reminding her of that.”

  “Oh.” I lay back down, listening to the confusing noises from below and wondering about what I had heard my parents fighting about. Why would it matter to my mother if Richard came to my room at night? He already slept wi
th me half the time anyway, curled protectively around me in a way that made me feel wonderfully safe. So what was she worried about?

  “I have something for you.” Richard surprised me again by opening his clenched fist to show two shiny green glass marbles that I knew he treasured highly.

  “You're giving them to me?” I poked at the round green gems that clicked together gently in his palm.

  “One of them, anyway.” Richard put one in my hand and folded my fingers around it.

  “They're the exact color of our eyes,” he said, clenching the remaining marble tight. “I want you to keep that, Rachel. Promise you'll never lose it.”

  “I promise,” I said, squeezing the marble close to my chest. “But why did you give it to me?”

  Richard took a deep breath. “If you're ever lost from me or we ever get separated somehow, I want to be able to prove to you that I'm who I say I am.”

  “What?” I looked at him, confused. “You're my big brother—I'll always know you.”

  “You think so now.” Richard's voice was grim. “But people change when they grow up.”

  “Grow up? But we'll grow up together.” I could hear the sudden note of panic in my voice. “Won't we, Richard? Promise me you won't leave me!”

  “I don't want to,” he said, pulling me close again. “I never would on purpose. Don't cry, Rache. The marbles are just a…” He seemed to be searching for a word. “Just a precaution.”

  “What's a percaution?” I asked, through my tears.

  “A just in case kinda thing.” He stroked my hair soothingly. “We probably won't ever need them. But don't lose yours. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I agreed, sniffling. Downstairs the muffled moans had faded to silence while we talked. The stillness of the old Victorian house was broken only by the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock on the landing and our mingled breathing. I turned in Richard's arms again, pressing my hot face to the cool, smooth skin of his chest. We fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, and I knew nothing could happen to me while I was with him and that he wouldn't let us be parted. I was safe. Safe in his arms.