Raising Wolves

by Preston Walker

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  Raising Wolves

  Preston Walker

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Jordan pulled himself up to his full height, meeting the unearthly beast's eyes. His only chance was to look fearless, but he was trembling. Sweat trickled down his spine as he took a step forward, toward the furious beast.

  "Now listen," he said, calmly but firmly. "We can talk about this..."

  She snarled and lunged at him, sharp fangs snapping at the air and swiping with her vicious claws. He spun, dodged, and crashed into a bookcase. Shelves collapsed, their contents cascading to the floor. He tripped, and she was on him but he pushed swiftly, flipping her onto her back, and wrapping his arms and legs around her to keep her head and limbs still. It used to calm her, but there was no calming her now. She gnashed her teeth, snapping, nearly sinking into his flesh, and thrashed with incredible strength. He squeezed his eyes shut and hung on as snarls and growls bubbled from her throat, praying that he could keep her still long enough.

  "Mr. Hacker!" A woman's voice called through his door.

  She knocked hard and jiggled the handle.

  "Shit," Jordan breathed.

  "Just a second, Mrs. Mullins!" His voice cracked, and the momentary distraction gave the beast the tiniest opportunity to break free. She burst from his arms and shot across the room, snarling and barking at him defiantly.

  "Mr. Hacker, I know you have a dog in there!"

  "It's, uh... it's the TV! I'll be right with you, Mrs. Mullins!"

  Jordan hated himself for what he was about to do. He dug through the pile until he found the long, gray object he was looking for. She was gnawing on the couch now, shredding the arm of it in her frustration. He pointed the object in her direction.

  "Fine," he sighed, heavily. "You win."

  SpongeBob blasted to life on the TV, and he watched irritably as the demonic beast rippled and melted before his eyes, transforming into an average-looking three-year-old girl. She grinned at him and climbed onto the couch, satisfied that she'd gotten her way. Jordan pushed a hand through his hair and took a breath.

  "If you don't open this door right this second I'm calling the police!"

  "Of course you are," Jordan said, under his breath.

  He pulled the door open just enough to see his landlady, but kept the chain in place. Her hawkish nose and eyes were pinched into a furious glare, and she stood on her tiptoes to try to see into the basement apartment.

  "Where is it?" she demanded.

  "Where is what?" he asked, innocently.

  "That damn dog! I hear it, day and night, tearing up my house! You know the pet policy. You signed the lease. No dogs allowed!"

  "I did sign that. I am abiding by it. There is no dog here."

  "Liar! I hear it! Trashing the house, day and night! You never take it outside, so it must be pissing in there! How can you live with yourself? That is no way for a child to live, you call yourself a father!"

  "Excuse me," Jordan said, icily. "There is no dog here. If you want to do an inspection, give me twenty-four hours. It's the law. But don't you dare come down here and question my parenting."

  He heard her growl behind him. He needed to get rid of Mrs. Mullins before Darla went full hell beast on her.

  "You'll just hide it!" Mrs. Mullins snapped. "You let me in right now, or I swear I will call the police!"

  "So call them," he snapped.

  Darla snarled again, loud enough for Mrs. Mullins to hear. Jordan slammed the door in her face and locked all three locks.

  "This isn't over!" she screeched. "I'm calling the cops!"

  "Shit," Jordan said again, burying his face in his hands.

  "Shit!" Darla repeated, happily.

  "No, sweetie, don't say that," Jordan sighed. "That's a grown-up word."

  Darla's face crumpled up, and she began to wail. The wail would turn into a howl, and they would have to start this all over again if he didn't do something.

  "Hey, kiddo, you want a cookie?" he asked, desperately.

  "Cookie!"

  "Great!"

  He turned to the tiny kitchenette and pulled a cookie from the jar.

  "Great parenting, Jordan," he muttered. "Here, have cartoons. Here, have a cookie. Just for the love of God don't turn into a... oh hi, honey! Here you go, one cookie just for you."

  "Two!" she demanded.

  "Just one right now, sweetie. It'll be dinner time soon."

  "I... want... two!" She bellowed at the top of her voice, her eyes blazing yellow as her face changed.

  "Fine," Jordan said, tossing another cookie at her. "Just this once."

  She grinned up at him like a cherub, and skipped back to the couch that she'd just finished tearing up. Exhausted and defeated, Jordan looked around his trashed apartment. The bottom three feet of wall was littered with deep scratches. The bookcase and couch had been the last remaining furniture in the room, and now they'd gone the way of the coffee table, easy chair, and everything else he'd ever had in there. The carpet was torn and threadbare from her claws. She liked to dig and tear at it when she was upset, and he'd all but given up trying to keep her from destroying the place. Likewise, the bottom three feet of kitchen cabinets were utterly destroyed. He'd finally just taken off the cabinet doors after she'd chewed through two of them.

  He knew without looking that the bathroom and bedroom were in equally bad shape. If Mrs. Mullins called the cops and they granted her entry today, that would be it for them. She would evict them, and then they would be homeless in one of the most expensive cities in the world. He couldn't risk that. If Darla had even one tantrum in public, she would be attacked or injured or worse. People weren't exactly accustomed to watching cute little girls turn into actual monsters. For the hundredth time that day alone, Jordan desperately wished that Darla's other parent was still alive. Alex would have known how to handle her.

  Jordan pushed the dark thoughts from his mind and began cleaning up the mess. He sorted the various books, art supplies and electronics into different boxes and set them along the wall. Most of his possessions were in boxes now. Darla generally left the boxes alone; it was the furniture that didn't stand a chance against her temper. He threw away the broken shelves and loose fuzz from the couch, and he felt like he was throwing his paycheck away.
He used to take pride in owning expensive, comfortable things; now he took the same pride in making it from one end of the day to the other without caving in to Darla's unhealthy demands or letting anything get destroyed.

  "So much for that today," he muttered.

  He vacuumed and wiped the place down. It was a pitiful attempt at making the place look livable, but it was the best he could do. If he could just keep Mrs. Mullins out of there until Friday, he could hit the home improvement store and fix the place himself. He checked his phone to remember what day it was: Wednesday. If he could keep Darla quiet for just one full day, he could make it look as good as new in here. He made dinner (or what passed for dinner in his house; mini corn dogs and strawberry applesauce didn't exactly deserve a title), and they ate on the floor in front of the TV. He was just starting to slip into the existential despair of failing as a parent when she sidled into his lap and kissed his hairy arm with a definitive smack of her lips.

  "Love you, daddy," she said, clear as a bell.

  "I love you too, Darla."

  He held her tight and rocked her, taking as much comfort as he gave.

  "Hey sweetie. Let's try to have a better day tomorrow, okay?"

  "Okay, daddy. No say no."

  Jordan chuckled and kissed the top of her head. If only it was that easy to fix everything. Worn out from her tantrums, Darla bathed and brushed her teeth without a fight. Jordan tucked her into her chipped and scarred bed, pulling her princess comforter up to her chin.

  "What story do you want tonight?" Jordan asked her, scanning the pile of books by her bed.

  "Mouf story!"

  "Mouse story?" Jordan asked, pulling a book from the pile.

  "No! Mouf story! Wif your mouf!"

  "You... you want me to tell you a story with my mouth?"

  "Yeah! No book."

  "Alright," Jordan said.

  He thought hard for a second, then smiled.

  "Once upon a time," he began. "There was a lonely prince. He spent his days writing magic spells, and his nights fighting dragons and trolls. One day, the prince's sister talked him into going on a grand adventure! She wanted him to come to the desert with her, to empty his coffers of gold for the chance to dance under the stars, surrounded by magical creatures. It wasn't really his thing, but, worried about his sister's safety, he decided to escort her."

  "What escort?"

  "It means he went with her, to watch over her and keep her safe."

  "Like you?"

  "Like me," Jordan smiled, brushing her red-brown hair off of her face. "So the prince followed his sister to the desert. It was a grand scene! People sang and danced and made beautiful crafts. They thought deeply and loved hard, living life to the fullest for two short weeks. Most of them had real lives and jobs to get back to once the party was over. But there was one boy there who captured the prince's heart. He was full of life and bursting with magic, and he showed the prince how he could change from human, to something mostly human, then to a wolf, at will. He never used his powers for evil, only for good."

  "Like me!" Darla squealed.

  "Just like you," Jordan told her. "He even had dark brown eyes and red-brown hair, just like you do. The prince fell in love with the wolf boy, and they were married by a Druid priestess under the bright stars as a massive fire burned behind them. When the party was over, the prince was a changed man. He had fallen completely and utterly in love with the wolf boy."

  Darla's eyes twinkled with excitement, but her lids slid into heavy blinks. She was so close to sleep, that short little ten-hour relief where she was nothing but an angel.

  "The prince brought his wolf boy home. Soon, they realized that they were expecting a child! This was shocking to the prince, since he thought that boys couldn't make babies together, but the wolf boy explained to him that wolf boys are different. They have babies just like human ladies do. The prince was overjoyed! He couldn't wait to meet his little prince or princess. Then, late one night, the wolf boy grabbed his arm. He said, 'The baby is coming! It's time!' so the prince called the Druid priestess, who called a wolf doctor. Soon the palace was filled with people who wanted to help bring the new baby into the world."

  Darla giggled and sucked on her finger.

  "The baby was born! She was the most beautiful little princess that the prince had ever laid eyes on. He swore, then and there, that he would love and protect his little princess until his dying breath. Then he and his wolf boy thought for a long time. They had to choose the perfect name for their perfect girl. Do you know what they chose?"

  "Um... bunny slippers!"

  "That would have been a great name," Jordan agreed. "But they thought it might be a little bit too long. So instead they named their perfect princess... Darla."

  Darla squealed with delight and shoved her little face in her pillow. Jordan chuckled and stroked her hair.

  "Den what, daddy?" she asked.

  A wave of grief washed over him, and he had to swallow hard.

  "Then they all lived happily ever after, forever and ever," he said, softly. "Goodnight, Darla. I love you."

  "Love you," she said, through a yawn.

  He kissed her forehead, and she was asleep in seconds, cradling her stuffed wolf in the crook of her arm. Jordan rubbed wetness from his eyes before it could condense into tears. He blew her a kiss as he walked back into the big room to pull his laptop off of a high shelf in the kitchen and plug it in. If he was lucky, he could get six hours or so of work done before his body forced him to go to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jeffery was running late. Again. He mentally berated himself as he gathered up the various files and papers that he needed for his meeting, knowing for sure that he would be missing something when he got there.

  "I have got to get more organized," he muttered, as he shuffled his paperwork.

  The phone on his desk rang, and he had to dig through piles of papers and random bits of lunch trash to uncover the phone. He found it, nearly dropped it in his hurry to pick it up, and held the receiver to his ear as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

  "Moranis," he said.

  "Jeffery, the meeting started five minutes ago. Boss is getting twitchy. Get up here!"

  "I'm on my way, can you stall him?" he asked, desperately.

  "I don't know," Sarah told him. "I'll try. Just hurry!"

  "Okay, okay," Jeffery said, fumbling to hang the phone back up.

  The folders slid out from under his arm when he sprinted toward the door, and he had to stop and gather everything back up. Papers floated to the floor behind him as he ran to the elevator. He noticed, vaguely, but couldn't stop to get them. He'd pick them up when he came back down, he decided. He knew, however, that he was going to need exactly what he didn't have, because that was how his life worked. He mashed the button for the fifth floor, and slumped against the wall.

  "Got to do better," he muttered. "Gonna lose my job. Banishment. Cannibalism. Don't accept any dinner invitations."

  He laughed at his own worst-case scenario, and started to feel better. They wouldn't actually eat him. They might make his life miserable, but they stopped eating incompetent subordinates centuries ago. The elevator slid to a stop, and the bell told him he'd reached his floor. He rushed out, down the wide, beige hallway to the glass door on the end. The faded carpet used to be cream with red zigzag patterns, but decades of use had caused the red to bleed into the cream so the whole of it was a sort of pinkish ripple. It always made Jeffery feel vaguely squeamish.

  He pushed through the door at the end, and Sarah shot him a look which combined a warning with relief.

  "They're ready for you in the conference room," she said, politely.

  "Thank you," he replied, sincerely.

  He felt sweat soak through his button-down shirt, and tried to ignore it. He didn't have to look the part, he just had to do his job. He hurried into the conference room and slid into a seat at the end, avoiding the six pairs of eyes which were boring into him. />
  "Nice of you to join us," Mr. Bates said, sarcastically.

  "Nice of you to have me," Jeffery returned, awkwardly.

  Irritation flashed across Bates's face, and he turned to the map on the wall behind him. It was covered with dots in various colors, spanning the length and breadth of North America. Bates manipulated the lights so that only California was illuminated, and Jeffery's heart sank. They never started with his territory. The fact that it was top of the list today did not bode well for his future.

  "Moranis," Bates began. "Your outreach team members are all in the field this week, correct?"

  "Yes, sir," Jeffery said, quickly. "We've been in contact with fifty-four strays, all of them have reacted. Three runners, twelve...."

  "Your competency isn't in question... today. Put a pin in that though," Bates said, a warning in his voice. "Tell me, Moranis, do you recall what happened to Alpha Steel's heir?"

  "Yes, sir," Jeffery said, quietly.

  The memory still hurt his heart. He thought it always would.

  "You were close with the heir, correct? You had a relationship with him?"

  "We were friends," Jeffery said, vaguely. "But I didn't have contact with him for almost a year before his death."

  "Indeed. We thought that nobody had been in touch with him in that time. His disappearance caused a great deal of chaos within the ranks, as I'm sure you recall. It has recently come to our attention, however, that someone did know where he was and what he was doing during that time. Both Dr. Vasquez and April Sprinkle were in contact with him mere weeks before his death."

  "Who is April Sprinkle?" Jeffery asked, wrinkling his nose at the ridiculous name.

  "She's head of the human ally program in the western United States. She wasn't aware that Alex was a shifter of any particular importance and, as you know, knowledge of his disappearance did not leave the ranks. Dr. Vasquez's daughter reached out to us recently."

  "The doctor passed away last month, didn't he?" Jeffery asked.

  "He did. Which, while it saddens our community, it also allowed her to tell his secrets. One of which was the location of Alex prior to his death."