Wolf Sirens Fever: Many are Born, Few are Reborn (Wolf Sirens #2)

by Tina Smith

  “You.”

  I was caught off-guard by the answer.

  “I hit you?” For a second I thought maybe she was teasing me with her saccharine tone, but her face was stern. I recalled the training session from last night. No exact moment came to mind, so instead I remained silent. I looked at the bracelet that I was now forced to wear whenever my mother saw me. I lifted my hand and shook it, twisting my wrist, feeling the weight of jewellery, an unknown sensation; the bird, angel, wolf, the house and a little deer that now hung from a silver chain around my normally naked wrist.

  I was thinking drearily how the walls were still the same bland shade of yellow as when I arrived. Gin caught up with us in the hall as we headed for class. We no longer understood each other’s pain and desire. Her words towards me fell on deaf ears.

  “Hi, L.” She beamed at me.

  I winced, hearing Reid’s old nickname for me. Today I was extra sensitive, I was eighteen and I didn’t want to enjoy it. Because Sky wasn’t here, because celebrations of human things like this were lies to me now - or me lying for the wolves, concealing their world. I decided today wouldn’t be any different for me; I would train until my muscles burned. If I was honest I knew I was going to train harder. Flashes of last night came back to me and I recalled that I had fought with extra vigour and I closed off the thought. The crescent moon had seemed to infiltrate my muscles.

  “Hi,” said Cres on my behalf, even though Gin never spoke to Cres, as though Sam’s rule still existed here, when we all knew that time was over.

  “Well, I just wanted to say happy birthday, for today.” I heard Giny’s voice ring, refusing to acknowledge my indifference to her presence. Prior to today she hadn’t really bothered speaking to me either, though she sat with us at lunch, quietly. Monica and Tealy certainly wouldn’t have even tolerated her and I guess we were a better option than being alone. But Giny was now more in their world than ours.

  Social activity was low on my list of priorities.

  “Thanks,” I finally replied toward the floor. I stared ahead as we walked the length of the hall to homeroom where she would no doubt sit by me.

  Giny wasn’t perturbed. “Hey, a new bracelet.” She had noticed it on the wrist that held my bag strap over my shoulder. I walked on pretending I hadn’t heard her. Cres threw her bicep around me, and offered Giny an excuse for my rude behaviour, giving me a playful squeeze.

  “She didn’t want to mention it today.” Cres wrinkled her nose, and I thought I saw her smile as she gave Giny a wink. Giny knew about our world but, like Sam had intended, she was not part of it. Despite the horror Giny must have been privy to, she still thirsted to be in, and she would suffer the indignation of my ignoring her, to cling to the last part of it that remained, even if it meant now conversing with Cres. It must have hurt, Sam abandoning her.

  I was in a fairly good mood for the rest of the day and took the bus, glad to get home and take the bracelet off in the silence of our house. I was liking being by myself; often I was not. I found a note on the kitchen bench from mum that read: ‘Going to dinner tonight! Get ready I’ll pick you up at 5.30, love mum – wear something nice’.

  I breathed out with my eyes closed. After I thought about it, I was at least glad they hadn’t tried to throw me a party. This way Cres and I could still train late tonight and I wouldn’t have to try and pretend I was having fun for my guest’s benefit. I made a snack and, unusually alone, I found myself standing in front of the large curtained window in the main living area absorbing the fading warmth of the sunlight, enjoying the solitude. Knowing it would be broken soon enough.

  I tried hard to remember the afternoon by the statue priestess, walking over the bed of acorns. I imagined Sky with his tanned skin and soft prickly cheek against mine, as he bowed to embrace me carefully. Passionately, as only he ever had done. I felt the soft heat of his shirt but mostly I wanted that wolf smell, I yearned for the humid odour that clung to his warm hard concave chest against my cheek and the strong thumping noise of his heart beating in my ear.

  My trance was broken by the roar of a car in the driveway. Moments like these were short-lived and stolen, but he was still the focus of my thoughts, everything to me. I wanted to lie down on the earth and let the warm blood drain from my veins into the dirt and wake up beside him on the other side, away from all this. But now I had to struggle to think it. Strong emotions made me vulnerable.

  The door squeaked open and Cres came in without knocking. It was a quarter to five. I noted the clock on the DVD player.

  “Ready?” she called and I heard the familiar chime of her keys which now also held the key to our house, that my mother had happily given her, as she fastened them to her belt loop. My gaoler.

  I greeted her reservedly.

  “Hey,” I said quietly, seeing she had taken the makeup off and there was now no sign of the battle bruise over her pale cheek. I was relieved that no trace remained. I narrowed my eyes recalling the impending unwanted birthday celebrations.

  “I hate you,” I muttered, secretly feeling the scars over my forearm under my cold fingers, a feeling that it was too late to revel in, now Cres was here.

  She sashayed up to me with her keys jingling on her hip.

  “Why? Did you think I could stop her?” she teased with a glint in her eye, referring to my mother.

  “So it’s all her right – nothing to do with you?” I asked with my brows raised.

  “Water under the bridge.” She looked at the window that I had been blankly staring toward; she saw the grey blinds were drawn. Her subtle interest faded and turned to concern.

  She tried to smile. “Now what are you going to wear? Get in the shower and I’ll pull something out, come on, time’s ticking.” She pushed me playfully toward the stairs.

  In the steamy bathroom mirror I glanced miserably into the face that had become me, a more mature leaner, paler, green-eyed creature with a thin nose, and determined expression, whom I barely recognized. I tested my reflection. She moved as I did. I looked away not wanting to acknowledge that I was behind those sparkling, sea green eyes. Again I found myself standing there not wanting to move or blink or see anything but the memory of him. That was all that sustained my existence and without it, I may have evaporated. I knew it was revenge that should have motivated me but it was love. I worried I would lose him and that the huntress inside me would make me forget him. I wanted to be nothing, the way he was. Free. I felt the dim urge to cry. Whether or not I looked on the verge of weeping I didn’t want to know. Most readable emotions were no longer expressed on the mask of my feminine steely face. But there was no point to weeping or watery eyes. My expression when it was sad like this elicited one of two reactions from my mother. I faced the mirror again to examine the deep pink, turned-down lips and glassy eyes of sorrow - neither response was good.

  When I eventually emerged from the steaming bathroom, Sophie and Cres were already scheming together in my room about what I could assemble from my wardrobe of sneakers and holey sweats. They acknowledged my presence in the doorway subtly and resumed their trains of thought.

  “Nice skirt?” suggested mum, looking at Cres hopefully.

  Good, this meant she had chosen the reaction that was the lesser of two evils. She was ignoring my pain, the same way Cres did. This particular reaction hurt more, as she was the person who was meant to nurture and console me. I wasn’t allowed to miss him.

  Cres looked at me as I walked into the room wearing only the tag around my neck and a wet towel around me.

  “Well isn’t it lucky, I have brought a few spare tops just in case I crashed tonight.” She bent down to open the buckle on her faded mauve canvas backpack.

  “I didn’t know you liked clothes so much, Cres?” Sophie stepped back, to watch her. She was correct in her observation. Cres wore the most bizarre clothes at times and I had never seen her in a dress or skirt. I knew Sophie hadn’t meant Cres to take offence, though later mum pointed out to me that she had
noticed for a long time that Cres never wore a bra. The very obvious reason for Cres’s strange sense of style couldn’t be revealed to her, so unfortunately she thought it deliberate and just part of Cresida’s unusual-ness. I guessed Cres was sick of taking them on and off and losing them when she phased into a wolf. Basically she didn’t give a shit anymore.

  “We haven’t got long. Let me check my wardrobe,” Mum offered in a huff, noting the time on my bedside clock. We could only breathe when she had left us to our own company. I always felt a bit bad about that. I used the towel to dry my long hair and slipped on some underwear from the dresser.

  Sophie let me borrow a pair of her black high-heeled shoes with beading over the straps. Feeling sorry for her, I found myself half-heartedly agreeing to wear them, against my better judgment. They were instantly uncomfortable. Cres had pulled two tops for me to choose from her rucksack and laid them on the floor. It was a strange feeling to be asked to wear other people’s clothes, when they themselves did not wear them. I looked over the two tops on the carpet and I could tell they weren’t hers instantly though everything Cres wore didn’t look like hers. As I bent down to touch each of them, I noticed one smelt of mothballs the other of scented washing powder with a hint of body odour and a tiny hole in the seam. Suddenly it wasn’t about which one looked nicer but rather which one didn’t wreak of someone else’s life, as my mother left to get out of her Penny Market uniform.

  I whispered to Cres. “Seriously? You’ve stolen these from the clothing donations bin!” Secretly, though, I knew it was thoughtful when compared to the token gift of a meaningless bracelet that weighed me down and which I loathed wearing.

  “Well, it was either these or a taffeta bridesmaid’s dress. Fine don’t wear them,” she muttered as she crossed her arms and went back over to sit on my bed. She no longer took an artificial interest in my look for tonight in the absence of Sophie. She pulled her blonde hair into a small ponytail with her hands, something she did often now it was getting noticeably longer.

  Dressed only in my underwear I left the clothes laid out on the floor and began to search my closet in the high heels that already pinched my toes. What we hadn’t mentioned was that Sophie’s clothes, which would have fitted perfectly once, now were far too big on my slight muscular frame. I sighed. “I hate you for this,” I hissed under my breath into the wardrobe.

  Cres flipped through an old magazine. “The blue one’s nice,” she said to my turned back ignoring my spiteful comment. The humour that both the tops were blue was lost on me.

  “Maybe if I was allowed out of Shade, I could buy some nice things,” I muttered low, so my mother wouldn’t hear as I fastened a bra, the nicest one I owned. The truth was most of the clothes I liked to wear were now ripped or worn and the only shoes I had were sneakers dusted in dirt, the soles caked in brown mud. Apart from the fact that there was no reason to wear nice things here in Shade, pretty and fashionable were concerns for girls like Tealy and Monica. I now had other preoccupying hobbies.

  I delved into my wardrobe and felt about in the back, hoping to pull out something nice that I might have forgotten lay there. When the garment I unfolded appeared to be a silver sequined halter neck that I remembered wearing back in the city, I hurriedly threw it back. I bent down and tossed on one of the blue tops Cres had offered, holding my breath as mum appeared in my doorway again.

  “That’s nice!” she said a little too enthusiastically and I winced a smile as she looked at me for confirmation of her comment.

  “Yeah, it fits,” I offered feebly.

  Sophie gave me a quizzical look as she left to put on her jewellery.

  I eyed the blue lace trim about the bust in my full-length mirror and tugged at it. I pulled on the dark blue jeans slung on my bedpost – one of the only pairs I hadn’t yet completely ruined. Lately my look had been very grunge. When mum saw the completed outfit she tried to look pleased but then as her face fell, she asked why I hadn’t worn a skirt.

  “I don’t know. I can change.”

  She shook her head. “No, we’re late now. You can come with me – Cresida, we’ll meet you there, hon, okay?”

  Cres nodded in agreement quite happily and disappeared out the door. Something felt pre-emptive. I wondered what else they were up to.

  A summer breeze had broken the monotony of the heat and I rolled down my window in the car to feel the air brushing my cheek. Sophie apologized to me over the sound of her loose muffler. She was wearing large gold earrings that swung. She hadn’t realized how thin my wardrobe had become - and I wasn’t discussing it with her in case she tried to set up another plan to take me out of town shopping, because Cres would make me cancel it; I didn’t want Sophie to get her hopes up. It should have been harder for me to disappoint my mother, but I knew Cres would make me hurt her worse, later, if I didn’t wriggle out of it now. I pushed away the pinch of guilt.

  “I’m saving for a car,” I blurted. It was the only plausible reason I could come up with for not wanting to spend the money, even if I did desperately need new clothes.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, it’s silly having Cres and you drive me everywhere, so I’ve decided to save my money.” I looked at her, trying to settle my features into an honest gaze, so I was as convincing as possible.

  “Oh, okay. If you’re sure that’s what you want, but it’s going to take more than two hundred and fifty dollars for a decent car,” she cautioned, concentrating on the road ahead. I could tell she was disappointed I didn’t want to spend it like she had intended. “And you’ll need lessons.” She shrugged.

  I’d had some driving lessons when we lived in the city; in fact humiliatingly, I had even taken the test prematurely and failed. I wondered mischievously if my newfound hunting skills would also make me a better driver.

  “Yes, so I better start now.” I hoped she wouldn’t argue the point, as it was still my birthday. “I just want to save for something important,” I stated.

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, nothing. Maybe Uni? Or travel.” I tried to sound casual.

  “Uni?” Sophie scoffed. The car was silent. Mum never played the radio – or if it happened to be on it was never turned up.

  Cres was already at the pub when we got there, leaning on the jeep in the parking lot out front. I wondered if my mother knew that it wasn’t even her car.

  “There’s Cres,” I said unnecessarily pointing her out, “against Reid’s jeep.”

  She was wearing the other blue top and the outline of her nipple was clearly defined against the drape of the thin material.

  “Oh, I thought that was hers.”

  “No, he lets her drive it.” I shrugged and I had no other reason for saying it, apart from trying to subtly prove the point that I needed my own car.

  “Oh,” Sophie said, concentrating as she turned into the parking space nearest Cresida.

  When we entered the stuffy restaurant area of the bar, I was gob-smacked to see a metallic gold paper sign that read ‘Happy Birthday’ and for a second I was naïve enough to hope it wasn’t mine. Then I saw Reid and Giny and my counsellor Sally Bradshaw and three of my mother’s friends, one whom I recognized from the Penny Market, all awkwardly standing together in their dressier ensembles, cradling various beverages. Expectantly awaiting my arrival. I suppressed the urge to run.

  Oh God. I made an inaudible noise as I smiled. This was going to be painful.

  I swallowed and as we approached I politely greeted everyone. Jackson was the only no-show. Giny had come with one of her mothers, Lorraine, who had a bob hair cut and wore a batwing top and pants, and her little sister, Willow. There was a large gift box on the table with a ribbon on it. My mother suggested Reid and Cres sit together, as I was handed a glass of yellow wine. I watched them exchange perplexed looks and I gave a subtle facial shrug as though I didn’t know why either, though I suspected what I had said to Sophie had made her think there was more between them than met the eye. I sipped the fru
ity alcohol in my glass to suppress a mischievous smirk. This was minor payback for Cresida’s involvement in this unwanted charade. My mother and Sally, the school counsellor, chatted giving me serious-eyed, sideways glances I wasn’t meant to notice. I ignored them and glanced slyly at Cres and Reid. They each seemed equally uncomfortable to be seated so close together. Reid looked too big for his chair. He had gained back the muscle bulk he had lost over Christmas. He’d cut his hair short and was wearing a pressed white and blue striped shirt, reminiscent of pyjamas. For me it was an amusing sight. In the awkward silence that followed our greetings as we were seated, one of my mother’s friends asked politely, “Do you all go to the same gym?” in an English accent. Trust my mother to find the only other non-local for life and make friends.

  It was a perfectly valid attempt at conversation and Reid looked as though he was about to taste something bad, as our mouths collectively twisted in resistance to laughter. Cres gave a stifled laugh as she reached for her water and, after trying to speak, simply nodded. We struggled to control the vibration of giggles that swelled amongst the three of us, as months of tension trickled out in bursts of awkward snickers.

  “No, we all work out separately,” Giny chimed, though it was obvious she wasn’t included in the general query.

  I cleared my throat but an “Mmm,” was all I could manage in agreement, as a laugh spurted past my lips. Reid scoffed again and we began to burst into more uncontrollable laughter. The adults seated at the table cast their eyes on us, as we swayed about on our chairs bursting with giggles. The woman who asked the question simply looked on in wide-eyed bemusement.

  Eventually we calmed down. Cres pressed her stubbed fingers over her mouth. When we had regained our composure I mentioned, with watery eyes, that I wanted to get my licence and that’s when Sophie suggested that Cres teach me to drive. I saw Cres stiffen in her chair and realized that for a second she might have been thinking of her parents. I hurriedly began to insist I would pay for lessons but my mother interrupted saying that as I spent so much time with Cres, she might teach me. She looked eagerly towards her. Mum could be a little daft under the influence of white wine. I started to drop a big hint to mum.