Winter Howl (Sanctuary)

by Aurelia T. Evans

  Renee wondered what Grant’s reason was. She did not think he really needed the sanctuary that they offered in the woods, and he was so antagonistic to the shapeshifters that it had to be something else. She supposed time would tell.

  In spite of what she’d said to Jake, she did not feel at ease. And she did not think that locked doors were going to do anything to help. Sleeping in the same room with Britt and Jake tonight would help, she thought. She didn’t think that Jake was going to let his gun leave his side for a while. At least not until Grant either proved himself to be harmless…or until Grant had to be led out of the sanctuary at gunpoint. Or shot into the ground. Renee was not unaware that it was a possibility.

  The sanctuary had never felt like anything less. It was going to be a harsh winter, Renee thought. She pulled her bathrobe tighter around her and went into the computer room, intending to hurry through her last activities so that she could sleep with the others around her.

  Chapter Three

  The next afternoon yielded a few more snow flurries. They didn’t stick to the ground, but still spoke of a possibly harsh winter. It had taken Renee some time last night before she’d wanted to go to sleep, then it had taken even longer for her to get to sleep, so it was actually noon before she even considered opening her eyes and throwing back the covers.

  She had some article-writing to do that day and two new dogs to put up on the website because they had finally completed their three-month socialisation period. She also had to write up some papers on a potential adoption. A woman was coming by in a few days to meet Gumption, a raggedy mutt with a missing leg who had come to the sanctuary two years ago and was still affectionate and playful in spite of his handicap. Renee wanted to have his papers ready even if the adoption did not go through. But usually, when someone came this far out of their way to adopt a dog from the sanctuary, they went through with it. Then she had some plant-tending in the greenhouse to do.

  But first she got dressed and threw on her coat before sneaking towards the shifters’ barn. ‘Sneaking’ was not really the right term. There weren’t many places to hide in the open spaces between the buildings, but she tried not to disturb the leaves beneath her feet, and she looked around her in case Grant was watching her at that moment. She wanted to see whether he was still there or whether he had gone. She did not think that she had dreamed him or anything silly like that. She just didn’t know whether he had really wanted to stay or whether he had slaughtered something while they’d all been asleep.

  Then again, if he had slaughtered something, Britt or Jake or Malcolm would have woken her up to tell her. They wouldn’t have said, “I told you so,” but learning one of her friends or dog charges had been killed would have been a cold awakening enough.

  She thought she’d made it all the way to the shifters’ barn without being detected, so she opened the door and peered in. Grant was not there, but the bed where he had slept was mussed, and there was a personal chest at the end of the bed with the leg of a pair of jeans caught in the lid, so she assumed that he was at least still in the sanctuary.

  “Looking for me?” he asked behind her.

  Renee mentally kicked herself for jumping, but was thankful that she had not done anything as pathetic as squeal.

  “Just checking whether everything was the way it should be,” Renee said.

  “Mm-hmm. I’m convinced,” Grant said.

  It wouldn’t matter what reasonable explanation she gave. He wouldn’t believe she was out there for anything but him. Narcissistic bastard.

  Incredibly close bastard.

  Too close.

  Renee ducked under his arm. There were benefits to being short.

  “Running away from me?” Grant called after her. The question could have sounded mocking, the way it had been when Josh had said it—especially with Grant’s amused way of speaking—but it didn’t sound mocking to her ears. “Don’t tell me all that shit the shapeshifters were saying actually got through.”

  “It’s not you,” Renee said quietly on her way up the hill to the house. She knew he heard her, because he came up behind her again.

  “Didn’t Malcolm have any work for you to do?” Renee asked.

  “I thought it wasn’t a requirement to work,” Grant said.

  “It’s not. It’s just recommended. And it gives you something to do besides follow me.”

  “You started it, love, not me.”

  “I wasn’t following you. I was checking to see whether you’d run off in the night after causing your little bit of chaos,” Renee said.

  “My little bit of chaos?” Grant said. “If you didn’t notice, I wasn’t the only one causing problems.”

  “I did notice,” Renee said. “However, they’ve been reliable judges of character over the last twelve years or so.”

  “So you trust them unquestioningly, but you don’t trust me as far as you can throw me,” Grant said.

  “That’s the short of it. Go talk to Max or Malcolm about helping. You look strong enough, and you might get on their good side in the bargain.”

  “And what are you going to do with your time?” Grant asked. “Be a good little girl and stay in the kitchen?”

  “I don’t cook. Jake cooks.”

  “You must do something,” Grant murmured. He pulled the shoulder of her coat down a little to show the slight definition of muscle on her upper arm through her tight-fitting sleeve. “I didn’t think I imagined this.”

  “I garden. And run with the dogs on occasion. By the way, don’t run with the dogs.”

  “I don’t run with dogs,” Grant said.

  “Then why are you here?” Renee asked.

  “I told you, I need sanctuary.”

  “From what, I wonder?” Renee said. She pulled her arm away and went up the porch steps before slamming the door behind her.

  She didn’t think he’d respect the finality of a closed door, but she hoped he would. He didn’t. He threw open the door and followed her in.

  “What are you—?” Renee began, but Grant cut her off.

  “I hunt,” he said. “If you need fresh meat, I can hunt. I like to hunt. In a pinch, I can do your taxes for you.”

  “I do the taxes for the sanctuary,” Renee said, cold at the intrusion of her space that she had not given freely. “But some of us do other things to earn money. When tax time comes, if you’re still here, you are welcome to help.”

  “And hunting?” Grant asked. If his expression could be said to show imploration, this was the time. He did not, however, look innocent. In the room, he was far too large, and she could not help but feel flustered. In her mind’s eye, she imagined shoving him out of the door so that he tripped on the step into the house and down the porch steps. She imagined a split in his head from its hitting a stone. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone who could invade her space without her permission on her own property.

  “If you want to hunt, then hunt,” Renee said quietly. She would not look at him directly, so she looked at his feet. He had found himself a pair of dark brown hiking boots. “We don’t get much fresh meat around here because it’s too expensive and I would have to go to town more often. Does your saliva…? I mean…” She did not know quite how to articulate her question, especially when she could tell he was staring at her even though she was not looking directly at him.

  “It’s not my saliva that changes people,” Grant answered. “It’s not so simple or scientific as a sharing of fluids. It’s the act of the bite. It’s a confluence of specific events, not a disease. For instance…” He stepped closer, and Renee could feel his breath cool on her neck. If he got any closer, it would be warm. “If I were to bite you now and break the skin, you wouldn’t change. If I were to transform and lick an open wound, you wouldn’t change. If your blood were to mix with my blood, you wouldn’t change. I would have to bite you and break the skin while in werewolf form.”

  “So if you get us dinner, it’s not going to change us,” Renee said. She leaned away
from him, but she did not back away yet.

  “How often do you go into town?” Grant asked, bypassing the issue at hand.

  “Not often,” Renee answered.

  “Why not? There are bars in town. Movies. Streets to walk on. People. So many people it makes your mouth water. Why avoid them?” Grant asked. Now his breath was warm against her cheek and neck, and she backed away. He followed her mercilessly until the back of her legs hit the sofa and she could not move farther away from him.

  “I like it here.”

  Grant inhaled, and Renee could almost hear him purr. “Maybe you like it here,” he said. “But I think what really keeps you here is that you don’t like it out there. And you don’t like it when people get close, like I am now. You have an over-defined sense of personal space. I can tell just by looking at you. What I don’t know is why you aren’t doing anything about it.”

  The answers were at the back of her mouth, caught on her tongue. But Renee also had the feeling that he already knew.

  “Is it because you can’t bring yourself to touch me in order to push me away?” he whispered in her ear. She almost felt the brush of his lips there.

  Then they both heard movement in the kitchen as someone came in from the back, and Renee jerked back violently. Grant pulled away in a calmer, measured movement. He refused to show any sort of shame for almost being caught doing…almost doing something. Menacing the woman who’d let him be there in the first place. If ‘menacing’ was the right word. He was right in that she was not doing anything to stop him. And she thought that if Josh were here doing the same thing, she really would have pushed him out through the door. She did not just let people do things to her that she didn’t want them to do, no matter her issues with touching people, with being near them.

  “So…” Grant said. “How do you and yours feel about hares for dinner?”

  “I’ll tell Jake and Kit. How many?”

  “How many do you need?”

  “As many as you can bring as early as possible—we have eighteen other shapeshifters, then me.”

  He stared at her. “You aren’t a…? You’re completely human.” Grant digested the unexpected information, then shrugged it off. “I was completely human once myself. I’ll see what I can do about the meat.”

  “Do you know how to clean them?” Renee asked.

  “I do.” Grant backed out of the open front door and shut it in front of him, watching her to the last second.

  Renee had to shake the prickle from her skin and press her palm against her mound to push down the gentle throb there. This was no time for an inconvenient and unsuitable reaction.

  Breathing shallowly, she passed Leslie in the hall, coming back from his foray into the kitchen for a writing snack. He offered her half of his sandwich, but she shook her head. She would make her own. She was not hungry, but she thought a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich might help settle her fluttering stomach. The encounter had only solidified her worry that letting Grant stay at the sanctuary was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

  Before going to the computer room to join Leslie after making her sandwich, Renee went out through the back door and searched the compound from her vantage point for Jake. When she saw him up on the roof of the farm animal barn, she ran over and waved him down from the roof.

  “Grant is getting us meat for dinner,” she said. She slid an arm around his waist for a sideways hug to reassure him, knowing that he would not be happy. “Don’t complain.”

  “I’m not exactly leaping for joy,” Jake said.

  “I know. But he showed a willingness to contribute. Let’s just see, okay. For me, wait and see.” She gazed up at his slightly flushed face, warm from work in spite of the cold, and smiled a little when she saw the resignation in his face.

  “Whatever you want,” he muttered. “When is he bringing them in?”

  “I told him to bring them in well before dinner. We’ll just see.”

  “Yes,” Jake said. “We’ll just see. I need to get back to work.”

  Renee left him to ruminate and returned to the house, this time taking her sandwich with her into the computer room and sitting down properly to work and print things out.

  At around four-thirty, Renee went out into the greenhouse to trim, weed, and generally get herself dirty. She did not like using gloves. She could touch so few people that she felt better when she could touch her plants, even if they hurt her hands. Most of her flowers were outside in the flower garden next to the vegetable garden, but Renee liked to keep her roses—full-sized and miniature—in the greenhouse so that she could see them all year round. The greenhouse was warmer than outside, and during the much colder months, the heater kept the room at moderate to warm temperature for the plants. All of the irrigation was from harvested rainwater or melted snow. The greenhouse was her baby, although Britt usually helped her with it.

  She wondered where the hell Britt was. When she was nowhere to be found, it usually meant she was taking one of the dog packs for a run. Or taking herself for a run in her human skin. But she usually stopped by in the afternoon for lunch or to say hi to Renee before going back out, and Renee had seen neither hide nor hair of her since she’d woken up.

  Later that afternoon, when Renee was hip-deep in dirt and smelling of chlorophyll and compost—the greenhouse was actually quite large, large enough to keep her occupied when she needed the occupation—she heard the stomp of boots on the wooden floors in the kitchen and assumed it was either Max, Jake, or Grant. Rubbing her nose and probably getting some more dirt on her face, she set down her gardening tools and swung her head through the door from the greenhouse to the kitchen. Grant set a brace of hares and three rabbits onto the butcher block. Each of them had their necks snapped with minimal amounts of blood. Not at all the brutal ripping out of intestines like the mutilated animals. It did not mean, however, that Grant was not the one doing the killing. Renee was not that naïve.

  Renee noticed that although he had put on a white undershirt, jeans, and the boots before coming in, he had blood smeared on his cheek near his mouth. Grant sniffed the air and turned to see her watching him. He chuckled in amusement.

  “What did you do? Bury yourself alive and then dig yourself back up again?” Grant asked.

  “What about you? Did you go hunting in your human skin?”

  “What?”

  “You have blood on your face,” Renee said.

  “Who are you to talk?” He wasn’t argumentative, just sparring for the hell of it.

  “I know what I’m covered in,” Renee replied. “You just didn’t seem to know what was on you.”

  Grant muttered under his breath something with the word ‘you’ in it, and Renee did not even want to ask him to speak up. If it was innuendo, she did not want to hear it, and she didn’t believe in making people repeat themselves more loudly if they’d intended to keep quiet in the first place. Some things just needed saying aloud, even if they were not meant to be heard.

  “Well, aren’t you going to thank me for getting dinner for you and your friends?” Grant asked after he’d finished muttering.

  “Thank you,” Renee said politely. “Start cleaning them before Jake gets in, and you’ll get a bigger thank you later.”

  “Oh, really? Dare I ask what that thank you will be?” Grant said, raising his eyebrows in interest.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking,” Renee said, backing out of the door.

  “Then I’m not the only one thinking it, love,” he called after her.

  Renee shook her head as she returned to her work. With Grant’s contribution, she supposed that all the shapeshifters would be getting a treat tonight, so she’d better find more makings for a salad.

  When Renee finally came out of the greenhouse again, she could not see Grant anywhere, and Jake was finishing up cleaning the meat. Jake was pretty thorough when he dressed meat, and tried to use all the parts that he could, burying the rest near the compost heap. Using hunted or slaughtered mea
t was nothing new for Jake. The dogs had managed to bring a few hunted animals in over the years, and the shapeshifters sometimes had a yen for new meat rather than thawing frozen meat. Also, they had their small set of farm animals to eat, mainly chickens and turkeys—the latter mostly for holidays—since they used the cows for milk.

  “Tell the wolf that he did well,” Jake muttered as she passed by him.

  “Tell him yourself,” Renee said. “I’m not your mediator.”

  “Will he be eating with all of us?”

  “I imagine so.”

  “So we’ll use the big dining table tonight so the others can be invited in?” Jake asked. There was a breakfast table in the kitchen area where the core pack generally ate. But they also had a dining table in the great room that seated twelve, or more if they all squeezed in. Renee did not think that all the shapeshifters would be eating with them with Grant there. The dining room table would work fine.

  She nodded and continued through the kitchen. She probably had a few hours before dinner.

  As she left the kitchen, she heard Jake muttering, and she knew he was offering something of a prayer—a word or two of gratitude towards the animals for surrendering their lives. It was a ritual that the three shapeshifters who cooked—Jake, Ki, and occasionally Britt—followed regularly. Renee had once asked whether they really believed that the animals could hear them. Britt had answered that everything was energy, and even if the animals could not hear them, it was respectful to show thanks nonetheless for the energy that would go to nourish their bodies. It was not a matter of talking to the spirits of the animals, although some shapeshifters believed that. For Jake in particular, and to some degree Britt, it was just good manners.

  Before going completely down the hall, Renee looked into the two bedrooms for the other shapeshifters. There were actually three rooms, but the two that were currently occupied were the largest ones. The one that was unoccupied had been empty for several years, since Renee had moved out of the small room. It had been Britt’s idea, back when Renee was around sixteen and only did the occasional ‘sleepover’ up in Britt’s loft. Britt had not liked the idea of Renee sleeping in a place that shut her off from the rest of the world, even from her own sanctuary. She’d thought that Renee would benefit from sleeping in a room with someone else, a room that didn’t have proper walls. For the first few months in that room rather than her own, she had slept badly. But over time, she had grown accustomed to it and now enjoyed Britt’s company. Even as a human instead of a service dog, Britt grounded her in a way that no one else at the compound had ever been able to, not even her father. Her mother had never seen her at her worst, for which Renee was sometimes relieved.