“Did you fix it?” I could smell him, his sweat had a scent like verdigris and musk and skin too long in the sun.
“Burned myself. It wasn’t broken.” He chuckled. It was a nice sound. Sincere. Not what I was used to hearing day in and out.
“If you don’t make much, how do you live?” He smelled me, now. I saw his nostrils flare at the first hint of pheromone.
“Ah . . . I’m happy if I have food to eat, a roof over my head, and my health. That doesn’t take much if you live simply. All I want is some comfort and doing what I love.”
My human side wallowed in guilt, listening to him talk of the good work he does, what little he wants, while all I’ve done for most of my life was leave people in ruins, broken beyond repair. I didn’t know anything else, until now. Now I wanted to spare a man, go hungry, and dance into the darkness. The unknown.
“You must know a lot of peace.” I sighed.
He turned and really looked at me then. “What about you? Out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Me? I cook. Clean. Read a lot. Voraciously, actually. I watch the seasons pass.” I didn’t want to lie to him. His honesty made lies seem vulgar.
“That’s not much. What’re you waiting for?” His eyes finished taking me in and wandered off over to the fence. It looked like so many greying loose teeth about to fall.
“Maybe all I need is to be out here in the middle of nowhere.” He blinked at me, blankly. I smiled, stood. “You want to take a walk, see what’s at the bottom of the glen?”
He nodded. As we walked, he scratched his head, fidgeted with his clothes, nervously. “Your Pa own this place?”
“Well, it’s a long story, but the short end of it is that we inherited the house and some money from Pa’s brother a while back. A lucky visit right when his brother was dying and had no one to leave it all to. Pa called for us and we’ve been here ever since.”
“You go to school in town?” He grabbed a switch and began whipping it through the air, making a sound like the wind screaming through the oaks.
“No. I’ve been home taught since I was young. I love to read and it just follows that I’d end up knowing as much as a person who went to school. What about you?”
“Huh. Well, I went to Duke University and got a bachelor’s degree in general science, but that was only to please my folks. They’d saved all of their lives to send me and my sister to college. My sister teaches at Rutgers. When I was done with school, all I wanted was to get back to fixing things.”
I was impressed. I wished I could have told him I’d spent six years at Oxford and had a master’s degree in English Literature, but that was too long ago and my ruse was so rigid, I often forgot my past.
“Why science?”
“Science explains how things are made up and function. And if I’d taken to school, I’d have gone on to study to be a doctor.”
“Well, then we would have never met.” I blushed. “And Pa wouldn’t have the house repaired. You think you have an estimate yet?”
He smiled. We’d come to the bottom of the glen. Trees sheltered the path from the sun and it was twenty degrees cooler. I leaned too far into him, feeling the heat of his body. I nearly fell.
“Oooh. Sorry.” He grabbed me. Our faces were inches apart. “We’d better get back.”
“Yeah.” He pulled me up, his mouth coming down on mine suddenly. His mouth tasted sweet and coppery, of silver, water. I lost my breath as we kissed. I hadn’t thought I’d know how. It came right back to me.
I struggled weakly, then broke away. I was faint, worried I’d lose my form. It was becoming clear that fear wasn’t the only feeling that affected the enchantment.
He apologized and said something about my being so beautiful, how could he be so close and not show how he felt? I was hardly a woman of the world, but a line hadn’t changed much over the years. Though he hardly seemed the type.
“You must’ve lost your mind in this heat, Mr Buss.” I grinned over my shoulder as I skipped away up the path back home. I didn’t look back, but I could hear him jogging behind me.
Everyone, even Lyla, held their forms and manners through dinner. I’d prepared a large casserole of rabbit meat with millet and vegetables. We had fresh-baked bread, beans and a blueberry pie for dessert. The rabbit meat was underdone, as we like it, but Buss never complained.
Quinell brought out two bottles of wine and we began our usual after-dinner dance with the prey.
“I was pleasantly surprised by your bid, boy.” Fromme sucked on his pipe, letting the spiral of smoke snake upwards. The smoke was the same shade of pale as his hair and just as wavy. In the dim light, it looked as though his hair was leaving his head, dissipating into thin air.
“How’s that?” Buss sipped at the wine, grimacing slightly after each swallow.
“It’s reasonable. I’d expected something much higher, but then someone would have to pay me a fortune just to consider lifting a beam or sanding a post. When can you start?”
“Right first thing tomorrow. I’ll make up a list of the few things I’ll need to start, and drive back to Haywood to get them. I want to begin with the foundation. No bugs that I could find, but you’ve got some rot.”
“No doubt. House is close to a hundred years old.” Fromme nodded to me.
I put my hand on Buss’s forearm as it lay on the table beside mine. “Will you need any help?”
He shivered slightly at my touch. I noticed Quinell stifling a look of extreme pleasure at my effect on Buss.
“I work alone. But, thanks for asking.”
“Oh, I was just thinking I would ask someone in town if he wanted some extra work. After all, it’s a big job.”
He moved his arm away and grew quiet. He stared out the dining room window into the inky night. All I saw was our reflections in the glass.
Lyla stood and began clearing dishes. She growled at my ear as she removed mine.
“Ma” cleared her throat. “So Mr Buss, what brought you down our long stretch of road?”
Buss sat up straighter and finished off his wine. I poured him another glass.
“I don’t know. Curiosity. I suppose I figured anything this far out would probably need fixing. If there wasn’t anything along the way, I’d have kept on driving.”
“You must do a lot of driving.” I brushed his leg with mine as I crossed one long leg over the other. He noticed.
“Uh, yes, some. Seems I stay in a place longer than I ever took driving there.”
“You like remote places, especially?”
“I don’t know. Probably. I like quiet. Nature. Isn’t much of that in the middle of a town. The suburbs.”
“Yes, we’re very lucky here.” Fromme poked at his ashes with an ivory tamper, eyeing Buss and I. “Chelsea, why don’t you show Mr Buss a room upstairs. The one next to the bath in the front’ll do.”
Buss glanced at me. “I am kind of tired. I don’t usually . . .” He pointed to the wine.
“All settled, then. We’ll say goodnight.” Everyone stood.
“Thanks for a really good meal. Home cooking is always the best.” He grinned. Lyla swept in to grab more dishes and licked her lips as she looked Buss over.
“Come on, Buss. I’ll show you to the room.” I took his arm and hurried him away from more discussion and Lyla’s chops.
The room was ten by ten and the ceiling was low by the window, giving it a claustrophobic feel, but Buss didn’t seem to mind. The dusty dark-stained oak furniture and twin bed covered with a green and white chenille spread were better than the mattress in the back of his van. I’d have chosen the L-shaped room in the back for Buss, but I knew Fromme was thinking of how Lyla or Quinell might run out to forage during the night. They took off out the back way every time.
“I’ll open this window. This room’s still hot and awfully stuffy from the day.” As I leaned into the recessed window box and tugged on the window frame, I felt my skirt slide up my thighs. The window went up in jerky spur
ts, my face growing red with the thought of him looking at my backside.
“There.” I turned. His eyes were on me, his face soft and dear with lust and sweet vulnerability. “I’ll be getting you some sheets and towels.” I walked by him, knowing my scent was growing stronger with the coming of the moon, letting him breathe me in.
“All right.” He sighed. “I’m close to sleep, so don’t be long.”
“You may want to wash up. Bath’s just next door. The shower grunts when you turn the water up too high.” He just looked at me, a man’s hunger in his eyes. I hurried out.
Lyla caught up with me at the linen cupboard. “You’re hogging that boy for yourself. I know it. I’ve been wrong before, but this time I’m sure.”
I took a chance. “You’re right, Lyla, but not the way you’re thinking. I want him all right, but not for the feasting. I think I want to lay with him.” I looked away from her just then, not wanting her to see how fervently desire smouldered in me.
“You want to what?”
“Shush! You want to ruin it for me?”
She whispered and growled at the same time. Only Lyla could make that eerie sound. “What could you possibly want by laying with him? He’s not one of us.”
“I . . . I don’t know. I’ve got this feeling . . . and I want to find out what it’s about.” I looked back at her.
“Then eat him, right?” She did a twisted metamorphosis before my eyes, turning beast and monster and Lyla in one. Her anger always cost her control.
“No, damn you. Don’t you hear me? I don’t even want to taste him.” I stared at the light under Buss’s room’s door. “Not that way.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Lyla, I’ve never lied to you. Think it over. You have my word you can do whatever you want with him . . . after.”
She stared at me, incredulous. “What could you possibly want to know?”
“I’d better go. He’ll wonder . . .” I rushed away as Lyla transformed into wolf, her eyes like two golden embers floating at the end of the dark hall behind me.
Buss was lying on the bed, eyes closed, his shirt off. I stood over him, aching to run my hands over his hairless chest and tautly muscled arms. I wanted to taste his skin, so tanned and smooth. His legs were splayed, the fabric showing the outline of his thighs, his groin. I set the linens on the chiffonnier.
“Chelsea.” He whispered my name. “I think I drank too much wine.” He pulled himself up on one elbow. His eyes were heavy-lidded now, his smile crooked.
“I’ll go. You get some sleep. You start work tomorrow.” I turned to go. “I’ll leave the stuff here for you.” I motioned to the chiffonnier.
He got up, went to the door, shut it quietly, then put out a hand to me. “I want to say goodnight.”
“Mr Buss, I . . .” I wanted to refuse his touch, to lengthen the dance, but I was driven to him, just as I am to prey. I folded into his arms, into him it seemed. I forgot my skin, sensing his heart beating, or was it mine? Our lips made contact, moving apart as our tongues met. I swooned. The fear of losing my shape pricked the edge of my consciousness, was lost in the moment, then returned.
“Please.” I pulled away. “Too quick. I . . .” The fear pierced my lust, tempering it.
He pulled me close again, as if he hadn’t heard me. It was then I could feel the warmth and bulk of his cock against my hip. His lips went to my neck. I growled.
“Hey.” He backed away. “Jesus.” His eyes were wide.
I thought for an instant I’d lost my form, my hands felt for telltale signs. There were none. It was my growl that stopped him. “I just want . . . to go slowly. This is my first . . . first time . . . you know.”
He chuckled softly and hit himself in the forehead, animatedly. “I didn’t think . . . my god, I’m sorry.” He went to the bed and flopped onto it. “You have this effect on me. I don’t know. Forgive me. I’ll be more careful, Chelsea.”
I didn’t know what to say. I nodded numbly. We stared at one another for a few seconds. Then I caught my breath, smiled weakly and left.
I slept on the floor in my bestial form, the door locked and barred with my oak wardrobe. I laid awake a long time in the night, listening to the house creaking, shifting, the sounds of claws clattering on hardwood, waiting for the sound of human footsteps by my door. I hadn’t been able to find the energy to manifest my form all night.
Morning light rose up through my bedroom window until its heat found me. I stretched. Yawned. Rarely did I wake hungry as I did this day. I’d forgotten the beast’s, my extraordinary appetite. I knew I would have to go into the glen and beyond to the woods, and dance with animal prey for now.
I put my paws on the window ledge, searching the grounds for a sign of Buss. I heard Quinell in the kitchen arguing with Lyla. The knoll outside my corner window was brown with dry grass. I leapt onto it, scurrying over the top as quickly as I could to avoid detection. I snuck a look back and saw no one.
My hunger drove me deep into the woods. It was cool under the dense foliage, and I loved the feeling of moss and fern beneath my paws. As the beast, I smelled everything much stronger. Earth and loam, sap and water, bird, insect and prey. Sunlight came in bright spears through the thick leafy canopy. The buzzing of wasps and tinkling of stream filled the air around me. When I was here, in my element, I was animal and no other.
I picked up the scent of rabbit and followed it. A new mother and her young were nestled in the elbow of tangled roots at the base of a tree. She sensed me right away, and her scream pierced the stillness. Her choice would be to protect her brood and fight, I guessed, but instead she ran. Instinct drove me past her offspring, after her. Cunning bitch.
In no mood for toying with her, I focused my appetite and chased her into a bowl of earth beneath a fallen tree. Cornered, she leapt at me. My jaws snapped around her, killing her instantly. I devoured her quickly without really tasting her, leaving little for the carrion beetles to work on. And as I turned to lumber off toward the stream to wash, I saw Fromme on the hillside watching me. He nodded and ran off in the direction of home.
Sometime before noon, I gathered up my female form and ambled up the path from the glen. Quinell was “Ma”, gardening in the small patch of land he liked to grow herbs. I looked for Buss, but saw that his van was gone. Quinell caught me looking.
“He’s gone off to Haywood, but should be back any minute.”
“Ah. I was hoping I wouldn’t get caught. I went off into the woods this morning.”
“Ha. Lyla was out half the night. I met her coming in on my way out before the sun came up. Gave her a piece of my mind about giving that boy cause to suspect us. Fromme was wandering out as I came in. Perhaps we’re all too hungry to let Buss make us too cautious.”
“You’re right. We’d better be more careful.” My stomach clenched with fear around my breakfast.
“Well, it won’t be long before we feast.” “Ma” gingerly pulled some rosemary up by the roots.
“I’m telling you, there’s something we don’t know about this one. He’s dangerous.”
“Maybe to you, he is. I’ve known you an awfully long time and I can’t say I’ve ever seen you with less guile or more lust. You’ll bring us all down, dear, if you give in to those human pleasures.”
I blinked, stunned. I think of my self as so opaque, hidden. “You mean you . . .”
Quinell winked at me. “I see right through you, darling. I don’t think Lyla or Fromme do. Neither of them would let their carnal desires eclipse their carnivorous natures. Fromme’s too staid, phlegmatic, when not a beast. And Lyla is an angry, most suspicious animal in any form. She’d never let herself get close to a human enough to . . . to let them have a part of her.”
“Have you ever . . . you know . . . given in to the feelings?”
“Oh, yes, love. In my youth, before I was bitten by the brute who made me what I am. I was quite . . . promiscuous. After all, I was the darling of the theatre set, with my B
yronesque appearance and princely manner. I could have any swain or damsel I chose.”
“I mean since. Since becoming.”
“Why, of course. With others of our kind. And once. Once with a man I fell in love with.” He stared off into the woods and sighed. “He didn’t know . . . about me.” Quinell bowed his head and “Ma” began to weep. I knelt beside him and tried to comfort him. He shrivelled in my arms, transforming into something small and bleating.
I heard the sound of the van and stood up. Quinell turned beast, then “Ma”, wiping his face with his apron.
“I’m sorry, Quinell. I hope we can talk . . .”
We heard the side door slap closed. Fromme looked concerned, catching us in such an emotional pose, then he walked away up the drive.
I went inside, afraid to let Buss see me so soon after I’d gone on a feeding. I was sated, yet I felt the yearning for him just as intensely as I had the night before. I also felt how the yearning was turning Chelsea from soft and pretty to desperate and waggish. Outside, Fromme watched Buss stack lumber as Quinell tended his garden. Inside, I would feel safe, for a while.
I went around the back of the house to my window, remembering I’d barricaded myself in the night before. The window ledge was too high. I looked past Quinell, watching the corner of the house, waiting to see anyone, movement, anything. Quinell signalled it was safe. I shifted, feeling drained by the changes in too quick a succession. I loped up the knoll and leapt into my room, hitting the floor wrong, sliding into the wardrobe, cracking the mirror and turning an ankle.
Exhausted from shifting shape again, I moved the wardrobe back to its regular position and made my way down to the kitchen to put ice on my pains. Lyla swaggered in. “Did Chelsea fall down and go ‘boom’?”
“Oh, shut up, you old cow. You don’t care about any of it.”
“I care about getting my big meal, girly. I want to taste that huge steak that’s outside propping up our foundation. Why should I care what you want?”
The Mammoth Book of Wolf Men Page 15