(Un)bidden

by Melissa Haag

  The scabs were beginning to itch on the very outside, and I knew I was starting to heal. It didn’t mean I was ready for another bite, though.

  Mary seemed to sense my anxious mood.

  “Want me to sleep on the bed with you?” she asked.

  I nodded and closed my eyes as she lay behind me. I pretended the world and I were normal and that nothing could hurt me. I knew better, though.

  Five

  “Good morning,” Winifred said as she opened the bedroom door.

  Late morning sunlight glared through the window, blinding me, and I squinted at her. She gave me a wry smile.

  “They kept you up late?”

  I nodded. The motion nudged Mary, who lost her precarious perch on the edge of the bed. She fell to the floor with a thump and a grunt.

  “Sorry, Mary,” I mumbled as I sat up.

  “It’s all right,” she said. She didn’t bother moving, just closed her eyes again.

  I grinned down at her. Her brown hair fanned around her head in a tangled web and partially hid her face. She hadn’t slept much either as we’d lain in the dark, listening.

  “How is your neck?” Winifred asked, pulling my attention from Mary. “May I look?”

  She swept my hair aside after I nodded. The skin on my arms prickled at her light, cool touch. She studied the area for a moment then sighed.

  “It doesn’t look much different,” she murmured. “Which, I guess, is to be expected for your kind.” She moved my hair back in place.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, looking up at her.

  “You’re a slow healer compared to us. Don’t worry, though. There’s still the other side of your neck.”

  “What?”

  “I’m teasing,” she said with a laugh as she sat on the end of the bed. She reassuringly patted the blanket over my leg when I continued to stare at her. Her comment wasn’t very funny.

  “I’m not ready to permit anyone within five feet of you. But I would like you to come out and speak with a few of them.” I opened my mouth to decline. However, she kept talking. “I also brought a few things for you, which I think you’ll like. Coke, chocolate chip cookies, squeeze cheese and crackers, and bread and jam.”

  I knew it was a bribe but didn’t care; I was out of bed before she finished. My mouth watered for all of it.

  “Mary, wake up. You’re going to want to eat,” I said as I moved toward the door. She grumbled but stood and followed.

  “I saw you made your own bathroom,” Winifred said as we descended the stairs.

  “Not a very good one. It’s not easy to empty the last three inches from the tub,” I said. I didn’t even mention the bucket, which we’d relocated.

  “Don’t worry. It will get better,” she said.

  * * * *

  I savored the last bite of my chocolate chip cookie. It reminded me of home. Although I missed my family, I still believed in my choice to leave them despite the new, crazy world I’d discovered.

  Winifred waited until I’d stuffed myself before she asked if I was ready. The food had mellowed me, and I sat back to study Winifred.

  “I’ve been outside, several times since arriving and have spoken to just about everyone out there. Why do I need to do it again?”

  “That was different. That was their chance to impress you. This is their chance to present themselves before you as a viable option. I know you’re not ready for anything yet. They just want you to know they will be whenever you are.”

  I didn’t want to go out there, but I’d watched enough over the last few days to know they wouldn’t go away. Perhaps once they had their chance to say hello in an official way, they would leave. It was a fragile hope. Still, I sighed and nodded. If they’d been trying to impress me in a positive way, they’d failed. They were too intense and aggressive. I thought of Anton and frowned as I stood. Winifred stood, too, and started toward the door.

  “You can talk to all of them in their heads, right?” I said.

  “Yes. Individually, like I’ve been doing with Mary, or all at once like I did when I told them not to bite you.”

  “Could you tell Anton I’m sorry?”

  She stopped walking and turned to study me.

  “Do you care for him?” she asked. Her gaze searched mine, and I knew she didn’t mean general caring for the welfare of another human being.

  “I don’t know him well enough to care for him the way you mean, but I do care about him as a person. I care that he was hurt just because he helped me. It was wrong, and I’m sorry it happened.”

  “It wasn’t a random, vengeful attack,” she said. “It was a challenge for dominance. The others saw your preference and challenged him to prove his worth. You want the strongest of them, the one who will keep you safe.”

  “I understand you have your own traditions, and I don’t condemn them. Yet, I won’t condone them either. Your beliefs are not mine, and I won’t follow them. I do not want the strongest man. I don’t want any man.”

  She considered me for a moment. “Letting him know you’re sorry will only encourage him to pursue you. If you intend to stay, that is.”

  Apologizing would ease my conscience, but I understood what she was telling me. Staying here would mean making some hard choices. It would mean compromising my ideals about how people should be treated. At times, I might have to sacrifice what I wanted to appease those around me. And, there were other definite pros and cons to consider.

  Fighting would occur, and I wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it unless I was willing to use my power. Could I enforce my will upon others to keep peace? The hypocrisy of the idea wasn’t lost on me. I’d just told Winifred I wouldn’t bend to their beliefs, but here I stood, considering bending theirs.

  Not only did they fight often, but they thought nothing of stealing and tended not to wear clothes. Could I ignore all of that? I doubted I would. So, if I didn’t want to bend their wills or ignore their less than appealing qualities, where did that leave me?

  Although I knew they would keep fighting over me, I was willing to bet they would use that same instinct to fight to keep this place hidden. Living here would mean I, too, could remain hidden from the world. I looked at the ceiling, hoping the universe would give me an answer. However, I received silence.

  I sighed and said what I felt was true.

  “Despite the bites I received as a welcome, I think this is the safest place for me to live.” Winifred smiled at my words. “But, I’ll leave if that ever changes.”

  “If this isn’t the safest place for you, I’ll drive you to a better place,” she promised.

  Safest wasn’t always the best place, but I didn’t say more. When she turned and strode to the door, Mary and I followed her.

  Due to the recent rain and the many people milling about, the yard had turned into mire. The ground squished up around my shoes as I stepped out behind Winifred. We didn’t go far. She had backed a pickup truck to the door. Several piles of pants were stacked in the bed along with a few paper grocery bags.

  Activity stopped when we appeared, and the men turned toward us. Winifred hopped into the bed of the truck. Elevated so everyone could see her, she addressed the men.

  “Charlene is not like us. Though I’d like to consider her one of our own, we can’t treat her the same. When you step forward to introduce yourself, you will keep a minimum distance of three feet.”

  The men moved restlessly, and several eyed Winifred angrily.

  “This isn’t to limit your contact or time with her but to ensure her safety. Look at her.”

  All eyes turned to me. No one looked angry any more. Impatient, yes. Eager, definitely. But not angry.

  As they continued to stare, I began to feel like an exhibit at the zoo. I gave Mary a sidelong glance. She wasn’t looking at me but at the men around us. I focused on them as well.

  “Look at her neck,” Winifred said. “She doesn’t see those bites as attempted Claims but as hostile, aggressive attacks. T
hese last few days, how has she been around you? Did she seem completely comfortable?”

  Heat crept into my cheeks, and a few of them looked concerned.

  “She hasn’t healed yet. She doesn’t know our ways. Would you blame her if she feared you? Is keeping your distance too much for her to ask?”

  I hadn’t said anything about them keeping their distance. Yes, they made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t care for how Winifred painted me. I wasn’t a weak coward.

  “It’s not the distance that worries me,” I said, looking at Winifred. “It’s the teeth.”

  A man stepped forward from the rest.

  “I am—”

  The man behind him reached out and grabbed his arm. The first man growled, turned, and morphed in one fluid motion. Shredded pants flapped around his furred loins as he launched himself at the man who’d grabbed him.

  After that, I lost my patience. Didn’t they just hear me? I searched for the threads of their wills and grabbed them. The strands slipped away from me. I tried again.

  The male bodies piled on one another as they continued to fight.

  On my second attempt, I held tighter. The unyielding firmness of their thin wills surprised me as each one slid from my grasp as if oiled. Panic set in. I’d counted on being able to control them. If I couldn’t... My breathing grew harsh, and my throat tightened.

  A hand clapped over my shoulder and pulled me backward just as a male body flew past me.

  “Come on, Charlene,” Mary said as she continued to guide me back toward the door. My hands shook as terror set in. They were human enough to have wills, to reason with, but not to control. And they were animal enough to hurt me. Badly.

  “Enough,” Winifred shouted.

  Her will caught my attention, and I stopped moving. Wills weren’t something I could actually see as much as I could sense and visualize. But what she did amazed me. She split her will.

  The single fiber of her resolve divided into twenty, like a tree with branches. Each branch whipped out toward a fighting man. The threads flew so fast I thought they would pierce the men. Instead, at the last moment, they slowed; and the glowing end of her determination touched the center of each man's forehead. It happened in less than a second. All of the men stopped fighting as if listening to her command. Yet, it wasn’t just that. She’d implanted the need to listen.

  The branches of her resolve shrank as she pinned the men with her narrowed gaze.

  “It’s not enough,” one of them said. “You’ve already taken away our right to Claim her. You cannot take away our right to speak with her.”

  Chills swept through me as several of the men glanced my way. Mary’s hand tightened on my shoulders, but neither of us moved closer to the door.

  “Of course not,” Winifred said. She didn’t sooth or try to persuade them with words. Again, her will whipped out and tapped their foreheads, fast and brief.

  She wasn’t trying to grab their will as I had. She was doing something else. Hope and excitement filled me, and I tried to puzzle out what exactly she had done.

  “Have you determined an order?” she asked.

  The men started shuffling and shoving. The air filled with growls again. While they moved about, Winifred glanced at me.

  “Charlene, you look pale. How many do you think you can meet before you need a break?”

  Zero. I wanted to finish backing up so I could slam the door shut. Instead, I studied her. Her promise to protect me hadn’t been idle. She really could control them, and I wanted to know how. Learning meant staying right where I was. So, I scanned the yard. There had to be around forty men now.

  “All of them, I suppose.”

  Winifred’s brows rose, but she didn’t contradict me. The first man in line stepped forward, keeping the required three feet away.

  “I’m Stephen,” he said.

  “Hello.”

  He didn’t look familiar but stood there watching me as if expecting some type of reaction.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said when he still didn’t move away.

  He looked disheartened by my words, gave me a last look, and walked away. The next man stepped forward.

  * * * *

  Mary sat across from me at the table. We were supposed to be eating a late lunch. I could feel her gaze but didn’t look up. The half-eaten cookie on my plate and the flat Coke by my elbow no longer interested me.

  “If you choose one, it will stop,” she whispered.

  I snorted and rubbed a hand over my face. Sounds of fighting drifted in through the closed door. They fought for a place in their imaginary line up. It was as if they hadn’t heard me say I would meet them all. Their persistent fighting was turning an already long morning of awkward introductions into a longer afternoon.

  Winifred seemed to have the same hesitation as I did about using her abilities to control others. She didn’t take away freedom of will, either; she only calmed the worst of the aggression when it looked like it might be dangerous to me. And, now that I was inside, there was little Winifred seemed to do about the fighting. Yet, she remained out there, probably trying to prevent outright killing.

  “I doubt choosing will make it stop,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Winifred seemed surprised that two had bitten me. You made it sound like one bite should have been enough. I doubt another bite will change anything other than my willingness to stay.”

  Mary sighed and agreed with me. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.” And I didn’t. I’d already asked the universe “What next?” and so far, I’d received no obvious answer. My choices, as I saw them, were limited. Out in the real world, I truly felt I’d end up as a lab rat. Here...I sighed and rubbed my face.

  “Can you ask Winifred how many more are left? I don’t understand why it matters in what order I meet them.”

  “Ultimately, it doesn’t. Well, it wouldn’t for me. If it’s right, it’s right. But for you, they’re worried you’ll pick someone before they can all meet you.”

  I doubted that telling the men I wouldn’t pick any of them would help.

  “Back when Wini was our age, she said their Introduction practices were less refined. In a few cases, females would ignore instinct and go with a stronger male that had a weaker pull on them.”

  “Why?”

  “Protection. We’re a dying race, Charlene. Women need to choose their best option in order to survive. Our people—like my mom—leave for hunts and never come back. Between hunters who try to shoot us, human population growth, shrinking woodlands in which we can roam, and reduced birth rates, we’re not going to last very long. Winifred gave up her chance for a Mate to protect our interests. Girls like me are few. Girls like you...well, there have never been any before. You represent a chance for all of us.”

  “If you see what’s causing your race problems, why aren’t you changing your ways?”

  “What do you mean?”

  My mouth was open to say more, but I noticed an unusual silence outside. Mary tilted her head, and I watched her closely. Her expression remained curious as she tried to listen.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she finally whispered.

  I followed her from the room and struggled to keep up as she raced down the hallway and up the stairs. The door to our room was open, and she went straight to the window where we had a clear view of the yard below. Winded, I moved close beside her and tried to quiet my breathing so we could both hear.

  All the men in the yard faced the woods. I looked at the distant edge and saw three wolves. The wolves stared at the group of tense men surrounding the truck. Everyone in the yard, even Winifred, who once again stood in the bed of the truck, watched the wolves. No one moved. No one talked. The wolf that stood a half a step in front of the other two looked straight at Winifred.

  My stomach dipped as I stared at the lead wolf. He had dark fur, not quite black because of the grey that scattered over his muzzle and underbelly. There was something about him that hypno
tically called my attention, and I didn’t like it. Who was he? Why did he face down Winifred like that? He felt dangerous to me, most likely due to the snarl pulling back his lip.

  I glanced at Mary. With a serious expression, she studied the scene before us.

  “What’s going on?”

  “They’re arguing,” Mary said after a moment.

  I looked back at the yard. No, they were still just standing there.

  “Who’s arguing?”

  “Winifred and those others.”

  “About what?” My voice had slipped from its whisper—I was feeling a little left out and a little frustrated after the long morning I’d suffered. One of the wolves glanced our way. I quickly moved away from the window. I didn’t need any more attention than what I’d already received.

  I watched Mary’s eyes widen, and a blush crept into her cheeks.

  “They’re moving,” she whispered. “They’re getting pants from the truck.” Her eyes tracked their progress, and her expression grew soft and wistful.

  “He’s gorgeous,” she breathed after a moment, and I knew that they’d changed from wolves to men. I fought not to blush and lost the battle. Mary didn’t notice, though. Her eyes remained riveted on an unknown person. I totally wanted to look.

  “Are they dressed yet?”

  She grinned at me and nodded. I peeked around the edge of the window. The mood in the yard had changed. Those who’d previously crowded around the truck now stood well back, giving the newcomers plenty of room.

  The three stood near the end of the truck. The angle of the view the window afforded wasn’t good for seeing much more than the top backs of their heads. But from what I could see, if not for their obvious exclusion, the new men fit in with the rest. Their hair was slightly longer and unkempt, they wore no shirt or shoes, and their pants were ill fitting.

  Two of them were young, though. I guessed just a few years older than Mary and me.

  One of them stood out. Perhaps it was because Winifred was glowering at him as he stood before her with his arms crossed. Or maybe it was the way the muscles of his shoulders bunched in agitation. Or better yet, the smooth skin of his corded back. My blush reignited as I stared.