Only fools thought nature was kind, and Sauri was no fool. He needed a pack and that would mean taking one, joining one, or finding other lone wolves and forming one. If any pack found him on their territory under the full moon he would be killed outright.
This was the worst time of the month to be stranded and he was already wounded, leaving a trail of bloodscent that glowed bright in his wake for all to smell.
He had no idea how he could survive this night. If he continued traveling east he would enter Graypelt territory. Far to the west, across the waters, was the home of the aptly-named Death Claw pack. Behind him his family, the Whitepaws. Sauri was forced to travel south.
To the human city.
He bared his teeth. Human cities stank. They were impossible to navigate, and trails rarely lasted longer than a day. Humans were messy, unpredictable and dangerous. Sometimes they behaved as prey, moving as a herd and oblivious to their surroundings. Other times they would take up arms against their foes with unnerving ferocity. Nature would do what was necessary; Humans did as they pleased. Cities were filled with noise and vermin, and the injured or unfit were either coddled or left to rot in the streets. Everything about human habitation was wrong, and Sauri did not know how to survive in it.
That was the city’s true horror: it was every bit as much a wilderness as the forests, but with unknowable rules which all humans intuitively understood. It could kill him, but remaining in the forest was a guaranteed death.
Sauri took a risk and lifted his hand from the gouges in his flesh. His blood grew darker and thicker, congealing and sealing the gashes in his skin. It would be two moons before he was fit again and he was in need of shelter.
He had to move.
Sauri sucked in air until it made him dizzy, then veered south.
The forest thinned before it eventually dwindled to nothingness. The land grew flatter and there were human fields to cross where nothing grew naturally. The Whitepaws considered these fields their territory too, even though the human farmers might disagree. For Sauri to be safe from his own people he had to travel further still.
He adhered to a road that he found. It was hard and smooth without much debris, but it did not give way underfoot and provide the support that raw earth gave. The surface was obviously artificial, and Sauri couldn’t work out how it had been made. Ground flattened through years of repeated passage did not become gray, and nobody would mark it so frequently and so obviously.
His curiosity over the peculiar surface lasted until the sun crept into the sky. He had passed fields and trees unlike those which the forest was made from, and now humans in loud, smelly vehicles were passing him; at first there was only one, but by the time the air grew warm there were many. Most headed toward the human city, but some came away from it, and Sauri struggled to grasp why the humans didn’t build their shelters where they wanted to be. Instead people who lived outside the city were driving into it, and those who lived within were driving out.
Maybe this was how humans went hunting. They certainly made their way into the forests somehow, and without smelling of the sweat that would suggest they had walked the whole way.
One of the vehicles fell in alongside him. It was large and with an oddly flat back; only the front had a roof. A wiry human sat in the indoor part, and he leaned across to call out to Sauri.
“You need a ride into town, son?”
Sauri stumbled to a halt and forced himself to stand up straight. The stranger’s hair was snow-white and his face was lined like the bark of an ancient tree, yet he gave no signs of weakness; he was fit and healthy, but far older than Sauri’s own father.
“I can get you to hospital, or to a shelter,” the old human said, his blue eyes warm and kindly. “Either’s fine. I gotta pass both. Hop on up here.” He reached over and did something to the inside of the machine, and a door facing Sauri slowly opened outwards.
“I can walk,” Sauri said. He watched the machine with caution, uncertain whether it was dangerous. He’d never entered a human structure, and never been inside one of their contraptions. The Graypelts had occasional use for human-made things, but the Whitepaws eschewed them.
“Sure you can.” The old human gestured to the seat by his side before he leaned back into his own and gripped the round thing above his thighs. “Now hurry up. I haven’t got all day.”
The human was confident and calm. He was a leader, perhaps, for his scent was not at odds with his outward ease. Sauri did not know whether humans maintained territories, but an invitation meant that the human could not transgress against him. If only for the duration of the journey Sauri should be safe, and he had to get as far away from the forests as he could before the next sunset.
He took a step up onto the flat ledge which seemed to be constructed for such a purpose and hoisted himself up into the machine. It took him a moment to work out how to pull the door closed.
“Seatbelt,” the old man added.
Sauri stared at him. ‘Seat’ had meaning, as did ‘belt’, but the human spoke as though they were a single word.
What should he do?
If he was ever to be a leader, he had to be clear. Sauri’s father never admitted weakness and never dared to display it, but in this situation Sauri had a lack of knowledge and it would be weakness to refuse to learn.
“I don’t know what that means,” he stated. “But if you tell me, I will know.”
The human laughed. “You’ve never been in a car before?”
Sauri shook his head. “I have not.”
The old man’s cheeks puffed outward while his lips remained pursed. When he spoke it came with the expulsion of air trapped by his odd expression. “Okay. This here’s the seatbelt.” His twig-like fingers gestured over the strap that crossed his chest. “It’s to hold you safe in case there’s an accident. It’s against the law to drive ‘round here without your seatbelt on.” He pointed past Sauri, to the shifter’s shoulder. “Yours is there. You pull it down slowly or it’ll lock up, and you plug it in here until it clicks nice and loud, like this.”
Sauri listened and watched as the old man showed him how to use the device. It seemed simple enough, but when he attempted to do as instructed there was a clunk and the strap wouldn’t move.
“Too fast, son,” the human chuckled. “Back it up, try again.”
Sauri tugged with care until he could slot the metal part into the plastic one.
“Good. Now don’t press that button until the truck stops.” The human looked over his shoulder and to the many reflective surfaces placed around the machine, and then the vehicle began to move.
Sauri watched as the old man’s thighs shifted. One of his feet was pressing forward, and his hands moved the round device above his lap. It all had to have something to do with operating the machine.
“What’s your name, son?”
“I am Sauri.”
“That’s an unusual name. Kinda sounds like it might be Inuit. You from over the border?”
Sauri shook his head slightly. The only border he could think of was between territories, but he didn’t think that was the human’s meaning.
“Fair enough. I’m Ed Cozens. Call me Ed. I’ve got a farm a few miles back but I have to head into town for feed. For the animals,” he added with a spry laugh. “My wife does the other shopping.”
Sauri knew what a farm was. It was a place where humans forced nature to do their bidding. Such power was beyond even the Graypelts. “What’s a hospital?”
“It’s where people go to get themselves healed up after they’ve been hurt.” Ed pointed to Sauri’s dark and dried injuries. “You’ve never been to one?”
“No.” Sauri looked down his chest to the scabbed wounds. “How are they healed?”
“Medicine. Science. Technology. Sometimes a bit of love and laughter. Mostly bodies are pretty good at patching themselves up, but sometimes they need a helping hand, you know?”
Sauri nodded. “A hospital gives the helping hand?”
“That’s right.”
It sounded unlikely, if not altogether magical. If someone was too infirm to continue, nature would take care of it. Death came swiftly to those who could not protect themselves. To visit a structure and be healed was impossible; worse, it was wrong.
Was this why the humans were so numerous? If they could heal themselves far better than any shifter it could have all kinds of repercussions Sauri could only begin to imagine. A shifter living to whatever Ed’s age might be was unheard of. Challenges for dominance were only part of the danger to a wolf’s life: hunting larger prey carried risks like hooves and antlers; sometimes the forest was unpredictable and could break a bone; occasionally there were skirmishes over territory; and the humans would travel into the forest with their weapons and poisons and they called it ‘hunting’.
“I’ll take you to a shelter,” Ed said, as though he’d reached the end of some internal debate. “It’s where homeless people can get a roof over their heads and have something to eat. They sometimes have a doctor there. I’m guessing if you don’t know what a hospital is you sure don’t have insurance.”
“What is insurance?”
Ed gave a bitter smile. “Insurance is like gambling. You pay into it and if you’re lucky it’ll pay for your hospital stay if you ever need one. Plenty of people don’t have insurance and hope they never need a hospital.”
They drove further into the city, and the buildings grew taller and more densely packed. It was like entering a strange new forest.
Ed explained many human things to Sauri, but Sauri had the niggling feeling that even if Ed answered every question he had for a whole year it would not be enough.
“They can’t look after you forever,” Ed said as he stopped the ‘truck’. “But they should be able to for now. If you get stuck and want a roof - and you don’t mind working for it - see if someone can drop you at my farm. We can’t afford to pay you cash, but I doubt you’ve got a social security number anyway.”
Ed handed Sauri a card that had dark marks on it.
Sauri’s confusion must have been clear to the human, as Ed prompted “This is my address. Most anyone can read it so they know where my farm is. You just show it to whoever’s willing to give you a ride, okay?”
Sauri’s curls bounced over his shoulders with the force of his nod.
“All right. Let’s go.”
The vehicle reached the human city so much faster than Sauri could have on two legs. The sun had yet to reach its highest point, yet they were already well within the dense collection of mismatched buildings. He squinted into the bright sky overhead as they left the truck.
It was a loud place. Vehicles of different shapes and sizes used the road. Humans drifted along on devices with two wheels which their feet were moving forward somehow. People spoke into small oblongs they held against one ear.
The smell was odd too. Sauri’s nose was not as sensitive as it had been during his change, but the air here carried an unfamiliar mixture of unnatural odors.
“I’ll be back in town in seven days,” Ed said as he tugged Sauri along by the elbow. “I’ll stop by just in case you’re still here.”
“Thank you.”
Ed pulled a dull blue door open and steered Sauri into the first human structure he had ever entered. He only half-listened as Ed spoke to a young human female and explained how he had found Sauri walking the roads, injured and barely clothed. Sauri’s attention was on the interior.
Nothing seemed real. There were no things inside which had grown, and Sauri was unsettled by the utter lack of nature’s presence. Could the humans not survive in the wilds? Was this why they eradicated natural places so vehemently?
“Sauri?” Ed called to him. “This here’s Jen. She’ll look after you while you’re here.”
Sauri tore his attention from the vivid green seats and stepped across the room to the woman. She had some sort of chemicals on her skin which changed the colors of her lips and eyes, and she exuded an unnatural odor. Perhaps this was how humans attracted mates, as their sense of smell was so poor.
His own ability to engage with scent was muted again, not the riot of color it had been during his change. The sensations had been overwhelming, and Sauri was certain the unfamiliarity with his new shapes and forms had contributed to his loss in battle. He had been foolish, and was lucky to have escaped.
“Sauri? Honey?” Jen tapped her fingernails against a flat surface. They were bright blue, and reflected the light strangely.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up, then I’ll find you something to wear.” She gave Ed a bright smile, then slunk toward the stairs on dangerously tall shoes.
“Seven days,” Ed said. He clasped Sauri’s shoulder and his face crinkled into a smile. “Go on.”
Sauri felt a strange pang as Ed turned to go, as though he were leaving the pack all over again. To Ed it must have seemed nothing, though, and the elderly man left with a wave.
Humans were weird.
Sauri followed Jen up the stairs to what she called the “Men’s Dorm”, and showed him his bed for the night. He doubted that he would use it, not with the moon so full, but he nodded and thanked her nonetheless.
She showed him the “Bathroom”, but didn’t enter it herself. She told him that their showers were “cranky” and that he just needed to hold the button down while he washed, but that there were soap, shampoo and towels provided.
Sauri did his best not to let on how mystified he was by all her words. There were so many, and these words were only required to bathe. There was a tale among his people about how humans tamed the world with their words, and like all cubs it had seemed complete nonsense to him. After all, shifters had words, and their world was still wild.
Their world was also shrinking, and that of the humans grew ever larger. Could words truly be so powerful?
Jen patted his arm. “I’ll get some clothes for you and leave them on your bed.”
She left him by the bathroom, and Sauri entered it. The room was white and there was hot water in the air, like miniature clouds dragged down from the sky. It sounded as though there was rain in here, too, and he prowled along the edge of the room, sniffing the air in caution.
He found little structures. Some held bowls of water in the shape of seats. Others held white trays with a button on the wall and a metal thing overhead. Some of the structures’ doors were closed, and he could see feet below them and hear the rain falling. It appeared that the custom was to close the door of a structure once inside.
The miniature rooms with trays inside had buttons, and Jen had spoken of such a thing, so he entered one and closed the door. There was a latch to hold it in place, and he soon found that the door would not remain closed if he didn’t use it.
Sauri narrowed his eyes at the button and leaned across the tray to push it with a careful nudge.
Hot rain fell from the metal above.
Sauri yelped and snatched his hand back. His forearm was warm and wet.
Humans could make it rain in rooms cut off from the sky!
“You okay in there, buddy?” a voice called from another cubicle.
“Yes. I am fine, thank you.” Sauri’s panic brought the lie out. He did not wish to appear weak before an unknown human, and he was cornered within the small chamber; he did not trust that he could cope if a stranger attempted to enter the cubicle with him.
“Sure thing.”
He stared at his arm then gave it a cautious lick. It was coated with droplets and they tasted odd, but he could not find any pollution within them. The wet against his tongue awakened a strong thirst, and he realized that he hadn’t drunk water in almost a day.
Sauri mustered his courage and stepped into the tray. It was slippery now; he had to place his feet with care. He pushed and held the button and tipped his head back to drink when the rain came.
Once he had his fill he experimented with the button, and found that - as Jen had warned - if
he took his hand from it the rainwater stopped. He held one palm to it while the other brushed over his caked-on blood, coaxing it from his flesh. The water ran slightly pink in the tray around his feet, and the splash of color allowed him to see how it swirled away down a small hole in the tray.
What was left of his pants were sodden. He peeled them off and put them in the corner of the tray. Humans covered much more of themselves, even during the warm season, so he would wear whatever Jen provided for him.
Sauri found the soap and shampoo, although it was anyone’s guess as to which was which. They both cleaned him far more effectively than water alone, but they stung when they came into contact with his injuries.
He began to think that his people underestimated humans. Soap was clever and buildings which touched the sky inspired awe, but Sauri had seen so many other little tricks and devices all around in only half a day. He had fresh water at the press of a button and yet somehow the room was not filled up with it. There were places humans could go to be healed of their ailments. They traveled faster than any beast without exerting themselves and arrived at their destinations ready to face their enemies.
The werewolves’ error had been in the assumption that herds of humans were as weak as each individual.
Sauri felt an ache in his heart.
The humans were stronger in greater numbers, and his people were in danger.
Chapter Three
Ryan’s dream returned with a vengeance. He plowed through the woods on four legs, faster than he had ever run in his life. His nose was glued to the vibrant scent trail. It dragged him on through undergrowth and over fallen trees until he reached a clearing which was painted with odor.
His mate’s lair.
His mate was magnificent. Wild and inhuman, they fell upon the leaves together and his lover claimed him. Ryan was pinned down with teeth and claws, and his insides filled with meat and seed. They were locked together in lust, in need, and when they were done Ryan felt complete.
But when he woke he was alone, and the air tasted of his salt-sweet excitement.
Howl & Growl: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set Page 23