by Debra Dunbar
I wasn’t willing to get wet, so I passed it by, taking a side path that led down to a larger river—this one bordered on my side by a huge, slick, flat, rock face that a hundred feet later became a sheer wall of gray. I scrambled up and over it, regretting that I was wearing my cute skinny jeans and shoes that weren’t exactly hiking friendly. The cliff was roughly twelve feet high, and once up, the path continued on, winding around shorter rocky outcrops that would make perfect dens for large as well as small animals. It was at one of these “dens” that I paused, a weird smell capturing my attention.
Correction, it wasn’t a weird smell, it was a weird lack of smell. I’m one of those shifters with a really, really good nose. And since I tend to mask my scent with a manufactured one at times, I’m particularly sensitive to those subtle anomalies that occur when a smell is not natural.
But this wasn’t truly fake. It was just…oddly perfect. It was as if someone had magically Febrezed a section of this rock, covering up a scent they didn’t want known with one they felt blended better with the surroundings. Camouflage. Except it was too perfect, too organized in pattern. Nature is chaos. If there’s a pattern, it’s so complex that it never appeared perfect. I moved in closer to the den, but couldn’t see anything that would indicate someone or something had been here recently. And try as I might, I couldn’t break through the magical Febreze to figure out what it was covering up.
It was dinnertime, so I headed back, not sure what to do about the experience. I was confident that I was the only one who could tell there was something off about the den’s scent, and I wasn’t established enough in the pack for anyone to take my word for it that something was off. Plus, I wasn’t familiar with this area at all. There were shifter types I’d never met before, angels down in a pack in the south part of the state, something called a sidhe, whatever the fuck that was. For all I knew there were magical groundhogs that had a way of covering up their scent so the wolves—shifters as well as wild ones—wouldn’t eat them. It would be horribly embarrassing to go to Jamie or Jake with this, only to find out I’d dragged them out of the compound to check out a magical groundhog den.
I met Mir in the dining hall, and try as I might, I couldn’t wiggle out of sitting with her and her parents again. I was torn between wanting to make new friends so I’d have an excuse to eat elsewhere and the desire to hang out with the girl that my beast seemed to have adopted. Even if I were to try to sit elsewhere or eat alone, she would have scratched at my skin, pacing and fretting until I moved to a table with Mir.
Mir’s mom stared at me the whole meal, as if she expected me to stick my fork into her daughter or something. Mir’s dad cast me a sympathetic smile, then focused his entire attention on his food. It was awkward. And I’d had enough of this shit. I was a member of this pack. I was their daughter’s roommate and friend. I still wasn’t sure I wouldn’t be dead in a few weeks, but until then, I was going to do my damnedest to make peace with these people and show them that I might be a monster, but I would never hurt their daughter.
“Jamie suggested I go out with you today so you could show me all the places outside the compound I might need to know about,” I told Mir, noting that her mother stiffened at my words. “I explored a bit this afternoon past the lake. There was a spot where the creek branches off and feeds into a bigger river with some rocky spots.”
“Oh yeah,” Mir replied. “Those are cool spots to hide when we’re doing capture the flag and weekend mock battles. Upstream from the creek are a bunch of downed trees that are overgrown with brush and weeds creating a huge deadfall. If you’re little and don’t mind getting scratched a bit, you can squeeze in through them. There’s an open spot underneath that’s really cool. Matt and Aaron tried to track me by scent one time, and never found me. I think they knew I was in there somewhere, but couldn’t figure out how to get in without the whole thing crashing down on their heads.”
Mir’s mother sucked in a breath. “I’ve told you I don’t like you going in there. Those trees are rotting, and there’s a good chance they will crash down on your head.”
The girl rolled her eyes, but did it in a direction so her mother couldn’t see. “I’m careful, Mom. If I can’t lift a bunch of rotted trees off my head, then I’m a pretty poor excuse for a werewolf.”
“How about that fallen tree bridge? How stable is that?” I asked.
“The one that came down this summer is solid, but there’s another one upstream a ways that you don’t want to cross over. The beetles have tunneled all through it and half the bark is off. If you don’t slip off the side from the moss and slime, then it will probably crumble under your feet.”
I could tell this was driving her mother crazy, but I liked that Mir was reinforcing the idea that she did all kinds of risky things completely on her own, before I had even arrived at the compound. The worst I’d do is help her get a piercing in a very private area. With me here, I’d be the one trying the log bridges and deadfalls before I ever let her enter. If anything, her parents should be thanking me for ensuring all the crazy stuff Mir did came down on my head before hers.
I peeked out the window of the dining hall. “We should get going if we’re going to do our tour before it gets dark,” I told her.
She stuffed a last bite of chicken into her mouth and nodded. “I need to run back to the room and change my shoes and then we’ll head out.”
“Be careful,” her mother pleaded. Then she did something completely unexpected, she looked me right in the eyes and what I saw in them was far from hate. “Please watch over her. She likes to think she’s a big bad wolf, but she’s only sixteen.”
“Mom!” Mir squealed.
“Nothing will happen to her,” I swore. “I’ll guard her with my life.”
Mir huffed following me out of the dining hall and across the compound. “You didn’t have to say that. Ugh, how melodramatic. ‘I’ll guard her with my life’. You’re my friend, not my nanny.”
“Hey, if it makes your mom think I’m a decent werewolf, then I’ll say anything,” I lied. “I gotta impress your parents, so they’ll think I’m a suitable friend for you.”
She laughed. “I think Dad actually likes you. He’d never admit it in front of Mom, but I get the impression he thinks you’re one of those tough chicks with a soft heart.”
I wasn’t, except when it came to Mir. Funny how I’d lived for this long not giving a crap about anyone, even the guys I slept with, and a sixteen-year-old werewolf had wormed her way into my heart in one day. Less, if I were to be completely honest.
We climbed up the stairs to our room. I heard the loud argument before I’d even entered the building, and acted surprised and clueless. It was hard to keep from smirking, especially when Mir opened the door and I saw Muscles and Muffin Top waving shirts and underwear at Fox Face, whose mouth was open in a confused “O”.
“Why were you in my stuff?” Muscles demanded. A muscle twitched in her jaw. My eyes drifted down to her arms with their very admirable biceps and again I had to force back a smirk. Fox Face was so going to get a beating.
“I wasn’t. I didn’t go in your stuff. I didn’t touch anything,” Fox Face shouted back.
Boobs was backing away from the argument, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but in the room at the moment. Mir ran to her trunk and sniffed the contents, sighing in relief as she shut the lid. “No one was in my things,” she said.
“Well she was in mine,” Muffin Top replied, shoving the shirt toward Fox Face once more. “And Brianne’s as well. Mills, check your trunk. I’ll bet she went through your things, too.”
I was biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. Opening the lid of my trunk I made a show of sniffing loudly as I went through the clothes. “Yep. I can smell her on my stuff.”
Fox Face shot me a look that should have burned me to a pile of ash, then she turned back to Muscles and Muffin Top. “I swear I didn’t go through your things. Why would I do that? I’ve got no reason to bother with y
our stuff.”
All the shouting brought the dorm super upstairs. She was a dark-haired woman who looked like she might have had some Alaskan native in her background. “What’s going on?”
The room erupted in a shouting match, Muscles and Muffin Top accusing Fox Face while Boobs cowered in the background.
“Wish I had some popcorn,” I told Mir, sitting on the end of my bed to watch the show. I didn’t have to watch long. The super tried to shout louder than the others to get them to calm down and talk one at a time, but no one paid any attention to her. Muscles was practically brushing her nose against Fox Face’s forehead, still screaming and waving her underwear in the woman’s face. Then it happened. I felt the adrenaline, felt the shift in emotion, sensed the subtle changes in scent that came when bodies are readied for action. Fox Face didn’t have much room to maneuver, but she made the best of what she had and hit Muscles in the jaw with an uppercut. Her right fist impacted with enough force to snap the other woman’s jaw shut with a crack, jerking her head backward sharply. I was positive that there were chipped teeth and whiplash involved at the very minimum. But Muscles was a werewolf, and it would take more than a solid blow to the jaw to knock her down.
Muffin Top seized the moment and got in the action, rushing forward and slamming into Fox Face, pushing her backward into the wall. The super tried to pull her away and got an elbow in the face for her trouble. After that, it was a melee of action. Muscles clearly had the physical strength, but Fox Face was one hell of a fighter. She managed to hold both Muscles and Muffin Top off by herself, punching, kicking, biting, head-butting, and even pulling hair. The woman fought dirty. If she hadn’t been such a bitch to me, I might have liked her.
By the time Jake arrived, the furniture was scattered around the room, and blood decorated the floor. Mir and I were over near the bathroom where we could duck in if the fighting came our way, not because I was worried about getting hurt, but because I was determined that Mir not suffer even a papercut in this melee. Jake didn’t say a word. He strode across the room and grabbed Muscles by the neck, slamming her into the wall hard enough to leave an outline of her body dented into the drywall. Then he reached out and grabbed Fox Face’s shoulder, throwing her to the ground and grinding his foot into her back. Muffin Top danced out of the way, her hands raised and her eyes huge as she dropped to the ground and lowered her head.
“What in all of creation is going on here?” he demanded. There was an edge to his voice that was like taking a whip across the face. I felt Mir shiver beside me, and smelled urine. Glancing around, I realized that it was from Boobs who was cowering between two of the overturned beds, whimpering.
“She went through our stuff,” Muscles choked out, wheezing from a bruised windpipe that hadn’t fully healed yet.
“Did she steal anything? Damage anything?” Jake demanded.
Muscles lowered her eyes. “No. But she has no right to go through our things. I don’t need anyone pawing at my underwear and bras, and seeing personal stuff that I’ve got in my trunk.”
I suddenly wondered what personal stuff Muscles had in her trunk. I’d only spread the manufactured scent through the top few layers of clothing. Maybe she had dildos or something in the bottom underneath everything. I was tempted to check later and satisfy my curiosity, but now wouldn’t be a good time. Maybe in a few months, once all this had settled down and I could figure out a good excuse for going through her things, or to blame someone else for going through her things.
“You could have complained to the super,” Jake commented. “Brawling, damaging furniture and getting blood all over the floor wasn’t necessary.”
He’d damaged the room far more than the women had with the Muscles-shaped drywall dent he’d created, but I figured it would be best if I kept my mouth shut and stayed out of it all.
“I didn’t do it,” Fox Face mumbled, barely audible with her face pressed against the linoleum floor.
Jake tilted his head and looked down at her, a puzzled expression on his face. Then he lifted his foot and nudged Fox Face in the side. She rose, her eyes still lowered.
“I didn’t do it,” she repeated.
It hit me. Jake was an angel-light. Just as I had talents no other werewolf had, he also had talents of his own. And I was getting the feeling that one of his talents was in detecting falsehoods. Fox Face wasn’t lying. She hadn’t messed with Muscle’s trunk. It had been me. And if Jake could sense a lie, then he could also sense that she was telling the truth.
I was so fucked. It was just a matter of time before he came around to asking me some very difficult questions. Could I get away with lying to him? Would demon-light skills counteract angel-light skills? Or should I come up with some pitiful excuse as to why I’d framed Fox Face?
“You are telling me that you did not go in either Brianne or Miranda’s trunks at any time in the last three days?”
I winced. Three days was the freshness limit of scent. After that point, the aromas degraded and faded, shifting and altering in strength and tone. With my nose, the changes began within a matter of hours, but most shifters, it was days before they could sense the degradation.
“I have not been in Brianne or Miranda’s personal belongings, or in their storage trunks ever,” Fox Face vowed. “I swear it. It was her,” she pointed at me.
I forced my muscles to remain relaxed and rolled my eyes. “Girl, if I was going to get into anyone’s trunk, it would be yours to steal that French press of yours as well as the bag of dark roast coffee that I can smell from across the room.” I turned to Muffin Top, since Muscles was still pinned to the wall. “Did I go in your things? Did you catch my scent at all in your stuff?”
“No,” she declared. “The only scent in my trunk was my own and Stacy’s.”
Jake looked completely perplexed by this. I held my breath, hoping he didn’t figure it out. And in those few seconds I wavered, wondering whether I should speak out that Fox Face had been through my stuff as well. It would ring true, but it would also bring attention to the cause of all this. Jake struck me as a very smart guy—smart enough to figure out if Fox Face admitted to going through my things, I probably was somehow responsible for the rest of this in retaliation. So instead of speaking out, I kept my mouth firmly shut.
Rather than grill me further, Jake dropped Muscles, who collapsed on the floor gasping and holding her throat. Then he went over to her trunk, flipping the lid open and bending down to rifle through her clothing as he inhaled deeply. I leaned in closer, hoping to catch a glimpse of the gigantic dildos that I was sure were at the bottom of the trunk, but sadly Jake did not dig that deeply among her clothing.
He lifted his head, brows knitted together. Then he pinched his nose, and bent down for another deep inhale. I held my breath, trying to look as if I were only mildly interested in what was going on. I don’t think I was very successful, because Mir shot me a suspicious glance.
Jake stood and moved to Muffin Top’s trunk and did the same, with the same intent expression on his face. Then he moved to Boobs’s trunk, then Mir’s, then mine.
If he had my super nose skills, he’d clearly be able to tell the difference between the scent among my clothing and the one in Muffin Top and Muscles’ trunks. He took longer among my things, tilting his head and shaking it slightly as he analyzed the scents. Then he stood and walked over to me. I couldn’t help but tense.
“She was in your trunk as well.”
It wasn’t a question, but I still nodded in reply.
“Why weren’t you ripping her throat out?” he asked.
“Because Muscles was already tearing her a new asshole by the time I arrived. I was waiting my turn.” Cocky, but hopefully it would convince him that I was innocent in all this.
“So you just now noticed that Stacy had been in your things? You didn’t notice, say, when you came back after our meeting to shower and change your clothing? Or after late lunch?”
Fuck. He had a good enough nose to know Fox
Face had been in my stuff right around our lunch together. Time to put on my best poker face and bluff like crazy.
“Yeah, but what the hell was I supposed to do? She wasn’t here to beat the crap out of. Nothing was stolen or damaged. I’d look like a total pansy if I went to the super or you and bawled that she’d been pawing through my undies. I figured I’d confront her later, when we were alone and I could take the time to break her fingers one at a time without being interrupted.”
There. That was damned good, if I did say so myself. I totally deserved an Oscar for that one.
I could see Jake putting two and two and two together, though. I’d mentioned a near run-in with one of my roommates when we’d had lunch together. She’d gone through my shit, and if he had as good a nose as I thought he did, then he could tell Fox Face had been through my stuff hours before the other two. There was a time difference in the snooping. I’d indicated I’d had a problem with a roomie earlier. And I was worried that Jake could tell the difference between the scent on my stuff and the scent on the others’. Damn it all, I wished I had gone over my things with the fake scent as well, but then there would have been a weird overlap and I would have had to figure out a way to explain that as well.
“Swear to me,” he commanded. I felt it deep in my bones, as if he were trying to wrench the truth from me. For one hot second, I almost confessed it all, but my beast slapped that idea down, and instead I pulled myself up to my full five-foot-four height and looked my Alpha straight in the eyes.
“I swear to you that I had nothing to do with that werewolf’s scent on my clothes. I came in this afternoon and noticed it. And I swear to you I had every intention of making sure she paid for that trespass at some point.”
There. Truth. Evasion. And I’d found that being honest about my violent intentions often masked the sneakier shit that I’d already done.