by Tina Gower
He waits outside while I take my seat. The werewolves inside catch my scent and watch me as I walk across the shop to stand in line for a coffee. I know I must smell like Becker; he stuck close last night. The heat of his body plus the covers between us would become uncomfortable, so I’d push him away and he’d lazily wake, rub the sleep from his eyes, grumble an apology and roll away from me.
But sound asleep and unaware, he’d inch his way back to the same position right next to me. I know he can’t help it, so at one point I shoved the covers aside. I can’t do both Becker and a comforter. The comforter was an easy choice. I can’t stop to think what that means.
Okay, I can. I’m falling harder for him each night. It’s good that he’ll be transitioning to another pack. We shouldn’t have let it go on this long. After he finds this guy following us both, we don’t have a reason to continue the charade.
“Coffee, cream, a shot of vanilla syrup.” I press my thumb onto the payment screen. A green check mark draws itself on the screen and bongs in a low tone, indicating everything went through. It’s surprising they have this new technology in Turmoil. Every rest stop gas station along the way only took the old-fashioned swipe cards.
At the table, I open the surviving as a lone wolf book. This time I’ve wrapped the cover in brown paper to hide the title. I sit far enough away they can’t verify what I’m reading.
One option for replacing skin on skin contact is sleeping with other species. Sexual impulses may be low if the lone wolf goes longer periods of time between pack contact, but returns after a week of constant contact with another species. Many wolves find marriage partners outside of their pack can fulfill the emotional regulatory need a pack satisfies. Most wolves will leave their pack in certain circumstances. This can become difficult for wolves if marital fights keep the wolf from his need for skin and touch.
That’s a relief that wolves do not need to sleep with other pack for life. I’d wondered how this might complicate a marriage. Not that I was thinking of Becker and me. No. Not that. My coffee comes and I blow on it to cool it before taking a sip I regret after it burns my tongue.
If the contact with another species is short term, many from the other species have reported strong urges for their wolf mate long after the contact sessions have been terminated. This may be due to the pheromone release of wolves during emotional regulation. It might also be due to natural instincts from species to species for touch, but other species are not as in tune with the need for regular physical contact. So they do not realize what is missing until it’s gone.
Other species report returning to normal after a month or so.
Becker had explained this to me on the ride over in an awkward conversation about how things will change when he’s re-integrated into a pack.
“You might feel…abandoned, but that will fade. Think of it as an addiction and withdrawals. In the end, you’ll be better for it. Or, I don’t know…” He’d shrugged and scanned the mountain scenery as we went further and further from the city. “Maybe you’ll feel nothing.”
“What about your parents?” I’d asked.
“What about them?”
“How did they feel when you left to live in Angel’s Peak? All the way across the country.”
He bristles at the mention of his family. “They probably felt like any overbearing parent when their kid leaves the nest.”
I hid my smile by facing away from him, enjoying the view. “Overbearing. Must have been tough.”
He shifted in his seat. “That’s why I’m so horrified at how I’ve acted about all this. I know what it’s like to be restrained and protected. Especially for someone like you.”
I turned toward him. “Like me?”
“Yeah, you’re too strong to take orders from anyone. You don’t need to be taking them from me. You can take care of yourself.”
I smile into my coffee remembering the exchange in the car on the way here.
Mia shuffles her purse into the seat across from me. “Hey, hey. I like that big goofy grin. You’ll have to tell me all about him. Hold up though, I need to get my cocoa.” She flags one of the baristas rather than going to the counter. He nods to her. “I come here a lot. They know what I like.” She winks at the guy. He winks back.
“Is there anyone in here you don’t have wrapped around your finger?”
She pretends to think it over. “Nope.”
I lean forward. “You haven’t changed.”
I slide my book aside and let my gaze wander to Becker across the huge shop. He walks in, hanging back from the two werewolves. He waits until they wave him over. The male werewolf is about the same size as Becker, although Becker is taller. The man kicks out a chair across from him, but Becker drags a chair from another table and sits at the end, facing me with a better view of the cafe and exit points.
“…Is that someone you know?”
“What? I’m sorry.” I turn back to Mia, tucking a clump of hair behind my ear, embarrassed that I’d let my attention stray from our conversation. “Yes. I do know him. We both had business here so we caught a ride together.”
She cranes her neck to get a better view. “Wow. Hot. Look at those eyelashes.” She wrinkles her nose and grabs her own bicep. “And muscles. Please tell me you’ve hit that.”
Becker blushes and laces his fingers together, trying to keep his focus on the two other werewolves he’s meeting.
“He’s a coworker. And a werewolf,” I say in my lowest tone, between my teeth, not letting my lips move. “And can hear every word you’re speaking.”
“Thought so. Sorry, cutie,” she directs to Becker. Although he’s several tables away and the room is filled with the clatter of mugs and conversations, Becker flashes a look at the two of us from the corner of his eye. He really can filter out the unnecessary noise.
“So I wanted to talk to you about ForeverMatch.” I change the subject. It works.
Mia zeroes in on me. “What about it?”
“I’m working on this case—”
“I already know. My boss, Nita, couldn’t stop talking about it yesterday. A Kate Hale from Accidental called. My ears perked when I heard your name in her sweet mountain town accent. You know she’s a local, right?”
“Does she know we know each other?”
“No. I didn’t volunteer the info.”
“Good.” I return my lone wolf book into my day bag and pull out a file. “I wanted to ask you about anything that might help explain the Ever After death matches.”
“I don’t know much. Just that Nita and Yin used to be close friends, but they had some sort of falling out.”
“I gathered that. Sounded like Yin said something about ForeverMatch being a bunch of stiffs.”
Mia giggles. “Oh man, that’s ironic.” She calms from her fit of laughter and adds, “According to my boss, she said Yin had always wanted to leave the sticks and that’s what it really came down to. She went into Health and Nita didn’t hear from her, until she saw Yin had transferred to Ever After. Back into the Love business and in direct competition. Don’t know why she’d rather work in the city. We have nicer offices here with big gorgeous views. Plus local taxes are much friendlier. But Yin wanted to be in a larger city.” She shrugs.
“Nita thought so.” I play with a page of notes between my fingers. “Do you think Nita would sabotage Yin in some way? As retribution?”
Mia presses her lips together, brings her cup to her mouth. “No. I don’t think that the bad feelings run that deep. Nita is happy where she’s at. She’s successful.” Mia takes a sip, sets her coffee down.
“Right. I got that impression from her. I didn’t think she would.” But I still don’t eliminate her as a suspect. “What about Romance Ready? Do you know anything about the guy who owns it? The office is near ForeverMatch.”
Mia rolls her eyes. “Oh man, do I ever.” She curls her fingers around her cup and leans forward. Her voice gets quiet, like she’s about to share a juicy secret. “T
hat’s actually an interesting story. His name is Timothy Anders and he’s a bit of a recluse. Word is that Romance Ready is doing really horrible. They fired all their actuaries but two and use outsources for their precogs. It won’t be long before they’re gone for good.”
“Interesting.” I jot down the info. “What about the lawsuit against Ever After? Do you think that will eliminate them from the playing field? ForeverMatch is in a position to gain a lot of ground. They’ll be the only legit love prediction business in the tri-state area.”
Mia stirs her coffee and swallows, not looking as excited as before. “You think that it was a setup? An attack on both businesses to put ForeverMatch at the top?” She bites her lip. “That would be unethical.”
“I don’t know anything for sure. I’m just grasping at straws here.”
“It doesn’t look good.”
“There are a lot of angles though.” I touch her wrist.
“But that’s the thing. Timothy, the guy who owns Romance Ready? He and his wife are in the middle of a divorce.”
My eyebrows crinkle together. “That’s certainly not damning. I guess maybe in the love business it looks bad, but—”
Mia shakes her head. “No. You know how you asked about that lawsuit? His wife is one of the plaintiffs.”
I shift in my chair. “I don’t understand. She felt that Ever After didn’t give her a good match? Because she and Timothy didn’t work out?”
“I heard it was because they were having problems and she ordered a cupid note from Ever After behind his back and he wasn’t on it. She says the info was disturbing and led to the dissolving of her marriage. Apparently she’d ordered a similar card before she met Timothy and he was on that one. But it was Romance Ready, of course.”
“But she bought and paid for the Ever After match. People change over time. She was already having problems.”
“Well, this is all town gossip, but there’s more. Apparently her sister also ordered an Ever After note. Her fiancé was one of her matches, but I guess he has health problems.”
“So she’s also suing?”
“I don’t think so. Apparently she had a smaller settlement a few years prior and can’t file another claim against Ever After.”
I fall back into my chair. “Interesting.” It sounded all convoluted. And oh-so-convenient to keep ForeverMatch out of the limelight. I analyze Mia, running my finger along the hem of my silk blouse. Is she feeding me false leads? I know she wouldn’t do it consciously, but maybe deep down she didn’t want me to dig too deep into ForeverMatch. It’s her place of employment and if ForeverMatch goes down or gets in trouble she might lose her job.
I open my notebook and write down Timothy’s name and “look up wife and sister.” “Do you know anything about any of the other people in the class action suit?”
Mia shakes her head. “Not really. It’s just that tidbit because, well, it’s industry gossip.”
“Right.” I scribble a few more questions. ForeverMatch has a motive, Romance Ready has a motive. Every single person in the lawsuit has motive. This is getting ridiculous, but I’m a lot closer to an answer. There’s no question now that Ever After’s issues were an attack.
I’m so deep in thought I don’t notice Becker at our table until there is a thunk of knuckles against the wood. He towers over the two of us. Becker’s covered in sweat. It drips from his hairline into his eyes.
“Oh, hello, I’m Mia Peté, Kate’s fr—”
Becker drags in a breath like he’s just finished a marathon. “We have to go.” He grabs my things and shoves them into my bag. “Now.”
I flatten my hand over my notebook to keep him from snatching it. “Becker, what’s going on?”
He glances at my friend. “I’m sorry, Mia. Something came up.” He looks back to me. “We have to go.”
The other wolves watch us from across the room. The guy has his arms crossed shaking his head. The woman looks disappointed.
I whisper into Becker’s ear, “What’s going on? What did they say?” I pin the other wolves with a questioning gaze.
Mia scoots out of her chair and steps aside. “It was nice catching up with you, Kate, but I also have to run.” She holds her thumb and pinkie out making a phone to her ear and mouths “call me.” Then gives one last pitied look at the wolf frantically gathering my things and makes her exit.
Becker scoops up the last of my stuff. My heart hitches when he touches the covered lone wolf book. I don’t want him to know I’m reading about him.
I intercept the book before he can take it. “I was getting good info on my case.” Becker won’t look at me; he won’t turn his back on the other wolves. “Tell me what’s going on. Are you in trouble?”
The male wolf touches the female wolf, leads her out the door. They both keep their eyes on us as they exit.
Becker keeps them in sight, even as they cross the street. “I’m not going to join the Turmoil pack.”
“Why? How is that possible? They must have talked to you for less than twenty minutes. How can they make a decision so fast? They didn’t even give you a chance—”
“It’s not them.” He hooks his arm through my bag and jerks it off the chair. “It’s me. I won’t join.”
In long strides, he goes for the door. I follow at his heels.
“But you need to. You said you needed a pack.”
“I’ve been lone for a long time and it was working for me—”
“It wasn’t working for you. Lipski said—”
Becker flings the door open and turns, blocking my way out. “Lipski? Fucking Lipski? What did he say?”
“He said you were…unstable. That you’d been on suspension before the Roberts case. He said there’s a rumor you offed your own pack. Is that it? Did they accuse you of that?”
He lets the door swing closed, marches down the street. I hustle to keep up.
“Becker! Gods, Becker, slow down.” I jog after him, glad I have on tennis shoes and not heels. “Is this it? We gonna play the silent treatment?”
“Ten blocks,” he says with his jaw clenched.
“Ten blocks?”
“A werewolf can hear what people are saying for up to ten blocks in the open city. Longer distance out here.”
“They can still hear us?” I say in a loud stage whisper.
We reach the car; he unlocks the trunk and puts my things inside.
“I won’t do it,” Becker says, addressing the street light behind us. “Because I said I won’t do it!” He punches the frame of his car, right next to the door. It dents.
He’s not talking to me. He’s talking to them.
A werewolf can hear for ten blocks.
A group of women window shopping the antique store we’re parked near look at each other and scamper off. Becker shakes his head and yanks the driver’s side open, gets in, starts the car.
I jump into the passenger’s seat in case he’s forgotten he’s got me with him. As soon as I click the seat belt in, he eases onto the downtown street. I expect him to speed away angrily, but Becker is an overly cautious driver. It’s one of those things about his personality that doesn’t seem to fit and yet oddly does.
I give Becker a moment to stew in the seat next to me and I watch the town of Turmoil crawl by my window as we drive toward the highway back to Angel’s Peak.
Turmoil has about four main shopping streets in the center of the market area, filled with local business-type shops, a used book store run by two old fairies, a Vietnamese restaurant, a ghoul-owned fabric store, druid sweets shop, cupcake and ice cream parlor, even a banshee nail salon, which seems pretty cultural for a small town this size. The rest of the community sprawls out and bleeds into a green patchwork quilt of farmland, then miles of pine trees.
Becker visibly calms once we’re on the major highway, trapped behind an herb truck. Wisps of rosemary break off and smack the windshield. The air vents pick up the overwhelming cedary scent, filling the car. Becker presses the cruise con
trol at forty-five miles an hour. At this rate it will take us three hours to get home. My stomach groans. We should have eaten lunch before we left.
“In 1952 the last known shifting werewolf died of old age. He never married. He didn’t have a mate, kids. Some believe he was sterile. I mean, werewolves had been breeding with humans and other species for generations and it had diluted our DNA in a way that he might not have been able to breed with certain members of his own kind.” Becker scratches the back of his neck, then returns his hands to the ten and two position on the wheel. “He was full-blooded.”
I cross my arms in front of my lap and turn to listen to Becker’s history lesson. He delivers each word carefully, slowly. This has something to do with what happened back in Turmoil.
“About thirty years ago a lab run by Alec Broc who was a second cousin of this last shifter werewolf decided to run an experiment. He wanted to splice DNA to see if he could re-breed the shifter ability back into werewolves. Apparently this wolf, Jackson Bennet, had donated his sperm to science for further testing before he died. They were able to successfully create a few embryos using female wolves who had high amounts of werewolf DNA.
“A large percent of the embryos didn’t survive to be born, and the ones that did had behavioral problems. Mostly the males. Since the biological mothers and surrogates were volunteers and paid for their service a lot of those pups went up for adoption. Especially when the first batch were tested and had aggression and anxiety issues. Wolf packs didn’t want to take the pups in for fear of them being too much of a strain on pack resources and too needy. Most diluted wolves don’t need as much emotional refocusing.”
My heart breaks. I swallow around what feels like barbed wire tightly wound around my esophagus. “You said you were adopted. Are you—”
He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t nod. “I don’t know. I found out about all this a few years ago. But I might be. I had some trouble in school. My parents took me to get evaluated. I have sensory integration issues, social anxiety, problems regulating my emotions—and a large percentage of wolf DNA.”