Little Red and the Wolf
Page 16
“Bah! Never mind that. Fieldtrip. The hospital has the best pound cake on Thursday nights.”
“Gran—”
“How’d it happen? Why? Did he explain everything? The book says the first time’s the hardest.” Her eyes wide, back straight, Granny was the most lucid Maizie had seen her in years, and she didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. “It’ll hurt, y’know, the first time.”
“What will hurt? Explain about what?”
“About… Maizie, dear, where is he?”
“Who?”
“Gray Lupo, of course. You don’t know any other werewolves, do you?” Her tone made it clear she was joking, but when Maizie didn’t answer, Granny drew her own conclusions.
Voices in the hall pulled Maizie’s attention. Geez, why were they talking so loud? She could hear the nurse talking to Mr. Peterman in the hallway like they were both in the room. And who was pounding on the piano? Had they put a microphone inside the baby grand? Of course they’d need a microphone on the piano to be heard over the pots and pans being slammed around in the kitchen. God, why was it so noisy at Green Acres today? How could anyone think—
“So you’ve met the whole family then,” Granny said, adjusting the flowered quilt covering her from the waist down.
“What?” Maizie snapped her attention back to her grandmother.
“Gray’s family,” she said. “Joy’s a nice-enough lady and the twins are polite, but I can’t say I like that Lynn too much. Always trying to get into Gray’s drawers. He’s a widower, for heaven’s sake, and her brother-in-law.”
“You knew? About all of them? All this time?” Someone flushed a toilet, the sound of swishing water echoed through Maizie’s head.
“Why, yes, dear. So did you. I’ve told you about my beautiful silver wolf hundreds of times.” Her brow wrinkled, her voice taking on that careful tone people use with small children and the mentally unstable. “How did you think he got the violets in the vase and cleaned out the gutters?”
Someone yelled “bingo” and Maizie glanced around the room for the speaker. There was no one, though several people voiced their congratulations to Millie, whoever that was. “I…I thought you were…”
“One brick shy of a full load?”
“Yeah.” Although now she was wondering the same thing about herself. “I mean, I thought it was one of your spells.”
Maizie collapsed into the bedside chair, resisting the urge to cup her hands over her ears. What was happening? Pain twisted her stomach, made her cross her arms over her belly instead, holding tight. It was the first cramp since her shower, but it seemed to hurt twice as bad. She grimaced, rode the pain, waiting for it to subside.
“It’s starting already,” Granny said with a nod to Maizie’s belly.
“What?” Maizie squirmed in her seat. The pain dulled but still hadn’t completely gone.
“The change. The change is starting. Good gravy, he really didn’t explain anything?”
“Gran—”
“Well, dear, I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t have let him turn you without asking a few questions. You wouldn’t hop into bed without discovering the important things about a man first, would you?”
Important things like he blamed her for his wife’s death and that he was the very thing she’d spent her life despising? Apparently, I would.
“How did you know I’d been bitten?” A sly subject change. Maizie hoped Granny wouldn’t push her to admit all the careless things she’d done last night.
“I can see it in your eyes.” Granny leaned toward Maizie, staring at her eyes but not into them. “They have that wild look. Quick, larger pupils, like you see everything.”
Maizie wasn’t sure about that. At the moment she was too busy noticing how the dull pain in her stomach had spread to her legs and arms. Her muscles ached as though they’d been sorely overworked. And the racket of the nursing home was becoming damn near deafening.
“You smell like him too.”
“What?”
“You must have noticed it. It’s such a wonderful smell, like earth and trees and wind. I can smell that on you now. But that’s normal for werewolves.”
“Werewolves…” Maizie still couldn’t fully wrap her brain around it. “Gran, how do you know about all this?”
Granny opened the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out an old leather-backed book. She handed it to Maizie. “Gray gave it to me years ago when your grand-dad passed. He offered to take me into his pack. Tells you everything. I can’t believe he didn’t at least warn you about the first change.”
“It wasn’t Gray.”
“What? Then who? What happened?” Granny’s face paled.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure Gray took care of it. He took care of me. But then we got distracted.” He was too busy fucking her blind to tell her she’d been turned into a werewolf. “And then I just…I didn’t stick around.”
“Well, I can’t imagine what could possibly distract him from something so important. What…” Her cheeks flushed. “Oh. Yes, well… A highly amorous nature is normal too.”
“It tells you that in here?” Maizie read the cover. “The Wolf Curse by Gervase of Tilbury, in the year of our Lord twelve-hundred and fourteen.”
“Some of it’s bullshit, of course.”
“Gran.” The woman hardly ever swore which made the rare occasions all the more surprising.
“They were afraid of their own shadows back then. And it’s not a curse. It’s a virus. You come down with the full-blown disease first, like chickenpox, before your body creates antibodies to control it. After that you can change back and forth at will. The rest of the book is fairly accurate, I’m told. Pack law, instinct, tradition. You should read it before things progress too far.”
“Great.” She felt like crap, achy, sick to her stomach, overwhelmed by all manner of noises, and now she had homework. Maizie shivered, her skin tingling. She checked her arm to make sure it only felt like ants crawling all over her. “I have to get home.”
“Yes, dear. I heartily agree. Read the book or find Gray. Your choice, Little Red.”
Something told her the time for choices had just run out.
Chapter Eleven
Her body was trying to turn itself inside out…through her bellybutton.
Maizie snuggled tighter into a ball on the couch, tugging the blanket under her chin. The cottage was full of shadows, the sun nearly set. The temperature on the hummingbird thermometer suctioned to the window read eighty-two degrees, but Maizie was shivering so hard her teeth chattered.
This was worse than the time she’d caught the flu and had to be hospitalized for a day and a half while the worst of it passed. They’d been afraid she might die. What did that say about her chances now?
Another shard of pain tore through her abdomen, like a chainsaw slicing her from navel to neck. She screamed, but the sound was hoarse, the last half hour had ruined her voice. She should’ve called Gray. But what could he have done except watch? She’d already thrown up until there was nothing left inside her. No one needed to see that.
Her body convulsed, every muscle pulled tight then stretched apart. The blanket flew across the living room, falling behind the chair in the corner. Dear God, she was freezing, even as sweat dripped from her chin and nose. She couldn’t stop shivering and when another wave of pain raked through her body she found herself writhing on the floor.
Her hair was sopping wet, long strands clinging to her face, stuck to her neck and dripping little puddles on the floor. She pushed up, locked her elbows then rested there for a second trying to find a moment’s peace. Her body wouldn’t have it.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod. Something’s happening.” She collapsed.
If it was possible to survive every bone in her body being broken simultaneously and rearranged, muscles ripping from tendons, organs shifting, cartilage growing, stretching her skin—if it was possible to survive her own autopsy—Maizie now knew what it would feel like.
She screamed again when the cartilage of her nose crumbled and reshaped, stretching her flesh, her jaw thrusting out, teeth sharpening, ripping her gums as they grew. But the sound wasn’t her own, or at least none she’d ever heard herself make before. It was a crazed, high-pitched screech that hollowed toward the end.
Her spine arched one way then the other, bones breaking along her back, reshaping, pushing beneath the sensitive flesh above her ass.
“No. Please…a tail.” Tears stained her face, but she couldn’t feel the moisture through the fur. Her legs transformed just as her arms had, the pain just as excruciating.
And then…finally it stopped.
Maizie lay motionless on the floor next to the living room couch. Her eyes closed, she panted, trying hard to catch her breath. The pain had lasted a lifetime. It took several minutes to trust it wasn’t coming back.
She licked her lips, except she didn’t have any. Teeth, long and sharp, scraped along her tongue. She licked again and nearly touched the top of her nose. The fur was rough against her tongue, salty from sweat and tears.
She opened her eyes, almost crossed them trying to see the long muzzle where her nose had been. Something scurried along the foundation of the house. She listened and felt her ears turn. She shook her head at the strange sensation and got to her feet, shaky at first, the center of balance so different from two feet to four. Her shorts were crumpled around her back feet, and what was left of her T-shirt still hung around her neck.
She tried her best to paw the torn fabric and managed to catch her claw in the collar and rip it the rest of the way. She made a mental note to be naked next time this happened. The thought stopped her for a second. She knew there’d be a next time.
Free, she shook herself. Yuck. It was too weird. Her thick heavy fur slid her skin back and forth on her neck. A shudder traveled from her shoulders over her back and down her tail.
The tail. She’d almost forgotten. Maizie twisted, trying to see her ass, but when she turned, her backside followed. She circled again, catching only a glimpse of reddish fur and maybe a hint of strawberry blonde at the tip. She couldn’t be sure. If she could just get a better look.
Shoot, how do you work a tail? She tried wagging it as she circled around but that took more coordination than she’d mastered at the moment. She kept trying to see though, circling and straining, straining and circling, but she couldn’t quite catch her… Oh God, I’m chasing my tail.
She stopped, thankful no one had seen her. I’m an intelligent humanish-being. I can figure this out. Now, if I want to see myself I—
Something was in the flowers right outside the sunroom. Maizie lifted her head and sniffed. Deer. And it’s upwind. I could catch it if I…
No. Wait. She was thinking of something else a minute ago. What was it?
Her butt smacked against the couch and then again. But she hadn’t moved her butt. She curled her neck around toward her rump and saw a flash of strawberry blonde fur swing out at the tip of her tail. I’m wagging my tail. Cool. How?
The instant she thought about it though, her tail stopped. Shoot. She’d only gotten a quick look. She wanted to see more. That’s it! She’d been trying to think of a way to see herself without running around in circles. A mirror.
Sheesh, what was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she keep a straight thought in her head? Maizie turned and headed for the stairs, amazed how quick and easy she moved now that she had four feet to climb with instead of two.
There were so many scents, so many sounds, even everyday things captivated her curiosity. It was all she could do not to sniff in the wastebasket when she went into the bathroom.
She nudged the door with her nose so she could see herself in the full-length mirror behind it. But when the reflection showed a tall, rusty-brown wolf, she panicked. The hairs down her back to her haunches bristled, a snarl vibrated her jowls, bared her teeth. The rust-colored wolf snarled right back, mimicking her low crouch, baring its teeth.
She could fight or run. This was her den. She wasn’t running anywhere.
Maizie leapt at the wolf and the wolf leapt at her. They collided hard, a spider-web crack shattering where their heads met. Maizie stumbled back, shook her head and saw the rust-brown wolf do the same. She snorted, and so did her reflection.
Ugh. What was she thinking? No. The problem was she wasn’t thinking. She was acting on instinct, wolf instinct. It was more powerful than anything she’d felt as a human and surprisingly hard to ignore. She’d have to keep that in mind as best she could.
Maizie took a better look at herself. She made a big wolf, probably normal for werewolves, but scary big for a natural wolf. Her fur had a darker cast than her normal hair except for the strawberry blonde on the tips of her ears and tail, which she could now see if she bent around at the right angle.
Her eyes were the same green they’d always been, but the shape was different, more almond-like, longer. Maybe that’s why her vision seemed clearer.
Holy cow, it was hot. Her mouth lolled open as she watched, her tongue flopping out to the side. She panted, stopped herself, and then did it anyway. It cooled her and it was better than drinking out of the toilet which was another horrifying urge pounding through her brain. She had to get out of the cottage before she did something completely gross.
Maizie nudged the door open with her nose and jogged down the stairs. Her heart beat faster at just the thought of open air, free space to run, a forest to explore. She wound through the living room into the sunroom then out the back door. The screen door smacked closed against the wood frame behind her, giving her a start, but she kept moving.
The sun was below the horizon, its soft glow fading fast. Beyond the threshold to the forest, it was as good as full night, and Maizie could see perfectly. No wonder she hadn’t been able to escape Gray’s family last night. She’d been running blind while they’d toyed with her. Jerks.
She pushed the thought away, allowing the night to steal her focus. The forest was alive before her, not just teeming with a billion heartbeats but with colors and scents and sounds. So many things were endlessly fascinating, the army of ants marching in streaming lines carrying bark and leaves and bug carcasses.
The pungent odor of a skunk that’d passed by hours ago took her one way before the trail of a groundhog and her young turned her around.
An owl called to its mate overhead and a bat swooped so low she tried to jump and catch it. A crop of purple wood violets scented the air in one spot and a patch of bunchberries had her stomach growling in another. She could actually taste sweet tree sap on her muzzle and the bitter flavor of fox spray by accident.
Somewhere deep in the forest, a buck scraped his antlers on a tree and three does in season stirred, waiting for his arrival. Maizie’s heart raced, her muscles jittery, anxious for the hunt. If she chased them they’d run. She probably couldn’t catch them, but it didn’t matter. They’d run.
The thought entered her mind and her body obeyed. She sliced through the forest with a speed and grace that defied reason, defied gravity. She knew things, where the log she couldn’t see lay across her path up ahead, how low the thorny limbs of a branch dangled in the darkness, which stones to hit across the stream that wouldn’t topple her into the water.
She knew when to veer to the left, duck to the right or change direction to save time in the long run. The forest spoke to her, told her its secrets, welcomed her into its fold. Nature, the forest, the plants and animals, they were parts of the whole and so was she.
The deer were beyond a thicket five hundred yards away, grazing on the sparse grass of the forest floor. They hadn’t smelled her approaching downwind or heard her running with stealth, keeping to the soft earth and plants. She slowed, scented the win
d, pinpointing their exact location without ever seeing them.
Yes. They were there, a yearling and two older does. Two were late in their cycle, the third was primed for mating. All this came to Maizie on the air, but there was something else, something familiar but out of place.
Cranberry apple walnut tart. She’d brought three for Granny yesterday. The scent was unique, but diluted by distance. Granny must have the screen in her window and the tarts nearby. Maizie wanted to see Gran and so she turned from the deer to go to her. That simple. That uncomplicated. Her wolf instinct made decisions easy but something in the back of her mind niggled that easy wasn’t the same as best.
It was too difficult to think about now. Maizie was lost in the fast rush of sensation, floating through the forest, her leg muscles pumping like the pistons of a finely tuned engine. One with the forest, she weaved and jumped, turned to the left, veered to the right, moving seamlessly through the dark woods. It was like nothing she’d ever known and she never wanted it to end. But when she broke through the line of the forest into the backyard of Green Acres Nursing Home, everything changed.
Head low, she loped along the shadows, weaving her way to the edge of the building. The glass doors along the back wall of the home were all closed, but the corner lights inside cast a soft honey glow and lit the recreation room enough Maizie could see the group of people gathered around a TV. She crept out from the corner, the light inside and the dark of night making her virtually invisible.
Maizie looked for a familiar face, worried her wolf brain wouldn’t know her grandmother when she saw her. She glanced at the elderly men sleeping in twin recliners and paused only a minute to study the features of the woman between them knitting. There was a woman in the far rocking chair reading beneath one of the corner lamps and another sitting on a love seat hand in hand with a tender-looking elderly man. These two were the only ones of the group who seemed to be watching the exuberant TV evangelist. But Maizie didn’t recognize them. She didn’t recognize any of them.