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The Altering (Coywolf Series Book 1)

Page 28

by Abby Tyson


  Epilogue

  Sitting in the crowded amphitheater, Marley listened to their story. Most of the faces around him were smiling at the image of young love, but despite the taste of Savi's fruity lips -- as fresh on his tongue as if it were yesterday -- he didn't smile. Even after all these years, he could feel the wolf's teeth in his leg, smell the burning bodies; but those weren't the memories that haunted him. Marley, unlike the audience surrounding him, knew what happened next, and he wasn't sure he could live through that again.

  About the Author

  Abby Tyson is the author of the Coywolf Series. Lover of urban paranormal and fantasy, Abby is a sucker for a good (or even a bad) pun. If she’s not staying up until all hours writing her next book, she’s probably staying up until all hours playing 45, the best card game you’ve never heard of. Abby lives outside of Boston, Massachusetts, where you’ll find her monkeying around at the zoo (told you!) with her snuggable daughter, or partaking in the delicious food her sorcerer husband conjures up.

  Also by Abby Tyson

  Sneak Preview of “The Hollowing”

  The Coywolf Series: Book Two

  The coywolf lay in wait. Its tawny fur, streaked and flecked with black, was the perfect camouflage as it crouched beneath the wide row of sculpted hedges straddling the shadow between lamp posts. A car drove past, its headlights filling the hideout with long, swinging shadows, but the coywolf didn’t flinch. Only when voices broke the silence did the animal deign to twitch its ears. A door slammed, trapping the sounds behind it, and the coywolf returned to stalking the quiet street in search of an easy meal.

  Surrounded by the familiar scents of the neighborhood animals, each vying for ownership of this coveted cornerstone, the coywolf remained poised at the ready. It was tempted only once to leave its shelter, when a jogger passed by on the other side of the street. Perhaps she would provide a tasty snack? But experience had taught the coywolf to be patient, and its patience was soon rewarded.

  It heard them first. The coywolf’s ears pivoted, locking on the far off voices. Its mouth began to salivate. Slowly, its muscles straining for release, it inched forward.

  Four feet in white sneakers came into view, striding purposefully along the sidewalk and heading directly toward the coywolf’s thicket. The coywolf licked its lips, anticipating the approaching meal.

  The two humans were close enough for the animal to smell the apple one of them was eating. The coywolf crept closer until its paws were almost poking out from under the edge of the bush. Its heart beat faster with each step the pair took, until finally they were within reach. The coywolf prepared to spring, and then…

  Nothing.

  The two humans walked on by, leaving the coywolf confused and hungry.

  Not one to be easily denied, the coywolf slid out from beneath its hideaway and silent followed the couple, its eyes locked on the nearly finished apple in the woman’s hand. Though it steered clear of the lamplight, the animal — a striking mixture of coyote and wolf — was close enough to have been clearly visible if either of the pair had turned around, but neither did. They spoke softly but continuously, striding quickly enough that the coywolf had to trot to keep up. Their white hair shone orange when they passed beneath the lamplight, and each held a thick, polished stick in one hand.

  Finally the woman paused, and the man followed suit. The coywolf slipped behind some garbage cans, licking its lips once again as the woman held out the apple core and looked behind her at the shrubs where the coywolf had been hiding moments before. She started to turn around when a shrill yapping caught the attention of both humans and coywolf.

  The door of the nearest house opened, and a small dog burst onto the lawn, heading straight for the pedestrians. The woman hastily tossed her apple core aside, and the couple held their sticks at the ready as the owner raced after her pet. Unseen by everyone but the small dog, now vigorously renewing its protests from its apologetic owner’s arms, the coywolf dodged out from the shadows, snatched up the apple, and ran.

  Several houses away, in the tangled brush between two back yards, the coywolf enjoyed its nightly treat. The squeaking of mice across the yard warranted a flicker of an ear, but didn’t distract from its sweet meal. Mice were too small and too fast to merit any effort, especially when there were such easy pickings to be had.

  When the apple was gone, the coywolf set out in search of its brother. It traveled confidently through the labyrinth of streets, fences, and hedges, passing invisibly beneath lit windows and behind turned backs. After jumping a fence and landing in the perfect spot so as to avoid the lawn furniture on the other side, the coywolf paused, its body going taut at the scent of food.

  A lean tabby sat on a porch, bathed in the yellow light that spilled out the back door. The cat, noisily smacking its wet meal, didn’t notice as the coywolf crept close. Keeping to the shadows, the coywolf watched the door for any sign of movement inside. Only when it was at the bottom of the steps did the cat sense its presence and hiss, arching its back.

  Although a wall stood between the door and the rest of the house, the coywolf could see that the TV was on. It usually took a lot of commotion for a human to leave its television, so the coywolf felt confident enough to give a low growl. The tabby hissed again, but as soon as the coywolf set foot on the stairs, the cat sprang up and sat on the rail of the porch, its tail flicking menacingly. Eyes darting between the inside of the house and the snarling tabby, the coywolf emptied the bowl.

  When it finished, the coywolf studied the angry cat. The coywolf hunted cats sometimes when it was bored, taking it only so far as to give them a good scare or run them up a tree. But it could tell that this tabby would brook no more indignities, and coupled with the advantage of higher ground, the cat would likely end up the victor of any sparring match. So the coywolf turned peaceably away and continued its search.

  The coywolf smelled its brother a few streets over, and followed the scent to a row of overgrown bushes lining a short driveway. Its brother was just inside an open garage door, feasting on an open bag of dry dog food. Before joining him, the coywolf crawled beneath the shrubs and rolled over, scratching its back on the twigs and dry leaves that littered the ground.

  Shaking the dry dirt from its fur, the coywolf saw a set of headlights coming their way, moving much more slowly than cars usually did on this road. The coywolf crouched low, waiting for the darkness to return. Instead of passing by, the headlights, which were attached to a black van that the coywolf didn’t recognize, stopped at the bottom of the driveway that led to the open garage.

  The coywolf’s brother froze but didn’t run, likely hoping the van’s occupants hadn’t seen him. From its angle in the bushes, the coywolf could see something long, black, and skinny emerge from the window of the van. With a warning bark, the coywolf ran past the garage and into the back yard, its brother close behind. Neither stopped until they were safely hidden in a patch of woods surrounded by houses.

  After catching its breath, the coywolf nipped its brother on the shoulder. He returned the gesture, and soon the strange incident was forgotten as the two tussled amongst the trees. They grew thirsty from their play and sought out a koi pond in a nearby front yard, nibbling on some fresh compost on the way. Eventually they returned to the garage, hoping to resume the dog food feast, but the door was now closed.

  When the brothers had filled their bellies, and they trotted together down the old railroad track that led to their woods. With their den in sight, the two coywolves galloped down the hill, slipping through the open door of a small, rusty, ramshackle shed. As always, they sniffed the backpacks that sat in the corner, suspicious of the human objects, but were soon assuaged by the familiar scents. With the waning moon still high in the sky, the two brothers paced circles in the dirt floor. Curling next to each other, with paws and noses tucked beneath each other’s tails, the coywolves fell asleep.

  As a gray light encroached upon the dark sky, the brothers awoke, their bodies aching. The
need to stretch, to release their tightening muscles, was overwhelming. With long, wide yawns, the brothers arched their bodies, leaning back and pushing their front legs forward as far as they could go. They rolled in the dirt, shoved against each other, and pressed their paws against the walls of the shed in an effort to rid the tension from their bodies.

  At last, as the birds sang a welcome to the first golden thread of light, the coywolves felt relief. Stretching one last time, their bodies began to lengthen. Fur retracted beneath smooth skin, ears and muzzles shrank, and their paws melted into round toes and long fingers. Soon a pair of nearly identical human brothers, dressed in sweats and sneakers, were stepping out of the shed with backpacks slung on their shoulders.

  Marley, his dark blond hair shorter than his brother’s, reached out with his left hand. Ren took it with his left hand, and with the ease and coordination that comes with having done it thousands of times, the twins slapped their right hands together, the sharp clap echoing through the waking forest.

  Ren wordlessly started walking towards his home, but Marley stayed where he was and said, “See you tonight.”

  “No breakfast?” Ren asked, scratching the stubble along his jaw that he was letting grow out.

  “It’s Saturday,” he replied with a grin, hopping in place a few times to stave off the chill of morning.

  Ren’s face went grim. “The poetry reading.”

  “I’m supposed to be at Savi’s for ten, and I want to skim the book beforehand.”

  Marley knew his brother disapproved of his relationship with Savi, but he still resented Ren’s blatant frown. “Come on. Can’t you be happy for me for — I don’t know — a minute?”

  “You want me to be happy that you told her what we are, when no one’s supposed to know?”

  “Says who? Some lone, angry coywolf you met years ago?”

  Ren shook his head and started to walk away. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument.

  “Besides, Savi won’t tell anyone,” Marley called after him.

  “How do you know?” Ren snapped, spinning around. “You barely know her. You guys hooked up once last weekend, and without even asking me you tell her about us.”

  “Since when do I need to run my conversations past you for approval?”

  “Since they involve telling someone our secret.”

  Marley looked at the shed, remembering the moment he and Savi had shared. “I had to tell her,” he said quietly.

  “No, you didn’t. You wanted to tell her, because that’s how you always imagined it would happen. But it’s not only your secret to keep — it’s not even just our secret. There are others like us, barely getting by, trying really hard to stay under the world’s radar. And here you are, living with humans, working with humans,” Ren rolled his eyes as he continued, “going to poetry readings.”

  “Well maybe it would be better for all of us if the world did find out,” Marley protested. “No more hiding, no more sneaking around. We could be ourselves.”

  Ren gave a humorless laugh and started walking away, but then turned and took a few steps back towards Marley. “Not even you are that naive,” he said, and resumed his path into the woods. This time, Marley didn’t stop him.

  The sky was brightening into a glorious blue, and the tops of the trees were enjoying their early access to the morning sun, but the natural beauty around him did nothing to lift Marley’s spirits.

  He had always yearned to be a more present member of the human world, but now that he was with Savi, that general desire was a pressing need. How could he be a proper boyfriend — go on dates, meet her friends and family — if he was always hiding his real self? It was going to be hard enough never being able to do anything at night except during the full moon. Romance was inextricably linked with starry nights, sunsets, and candlelit dinners.

  As he pictured being with Savi in all of these romantic settings, his mood eased considerably. By the time he was stepping through his apartment door, the images were so vivid he thought he even smelled her. Treading softly so as not to wake his dad asleep in his bedroom, Marley pulled off his shirt and opened the door to his own room across the hall to grab some clean clothes before getting in the shower.

  The first thing he noticed was that his lamp, normally on the nightstand between the two twin beds, had been moved to just inside the door. It was on, casting a glow that reached no farther than the bare mattress on the bed closest to the door.

  The second was Savi’s scent: like almonds mixed with strawberries. His heart quickened at the aroma. He couldn’t be imagining it this time.

  He peered into the dark end of his bedroom, willing his eyes to adjust. He could barely make out a shape on his bed, under his blankets, but the soft, steady breathing was unmissable. Silently placing the backpack on the floor, Marley closed the door behind him and crept beside his bed.

  Savi was there, asleep. He knelt in front of her, staring at her by the dim lamplight until her features became clear. Her full lips, as beautifully curvaceous as she was, were slightly open, and he smiled at her innocence and vulnerability. He wanted to kneel beside her and kiss that sweet mouth awake, but instead he closed his eyes, relishing the calm, steady sound of her heartbeat, trying to think of a poem that even came close to describing how he felt.

  When she started to stir, Marley slipped into the bed behind her, brushing his hand through the river of thick black waves that was her hair. Her heart shifted from calm to erratic as soon as he touched her. She shot up, frantically taking in him and the room.

  “Shh,” he said, sitting up beside her and rubbing her back. He’d meant it as a platonic, comforting gesture, but the shirt she was wearing was so thin that he could every seam and clasp of the bra beneath as if there were no shirt at all. Savi must have become aware of the intimacy of the touch at about the same time, because as he leaned in closer, she stiffened and pulled away.

  “Thanks,” she said, but she could have been thanking him for stopping as much as for the sympathy.

  Lying on his side and resting his head in his hand, he said, “A little early for the poetry reading, aren’t you?”

  Her laugh might have been a whimper, and she immediately fell back against the pillow with her hands over her face.

  Marley kissed each of her knuckles until she moved her hands and he could finally press his lips to hers. Her heartbeat quickened, and the scent of cherries told him she wanted more, but when she put her hands on his bare shoulders it was to push him away, not draw him close.

  Hovering over her, he said, “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you here?”

  Savi closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. In a calm voice that belied her racing heart, she said, “My mom was taken by the Alters.”

 

 

 


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