by Reed, Zoe
Upon bursting out of the wheat field I could see the blur of white sprinting ahead of me – I was closer than I thought. I jammed my paws harder into the ground, pushing forward with stronger strides to try and catch up. It wasn’t long until I nearly did, and with one last strike I crouched and sprung into the air, flying at the white wolf. But the second I jumped the wolf hit the brakes, and I went flying over Luna’s head only to hit the ground ahead of her, spiraling repeatedly, head over heels. Once I finished wheeling across the dirt and came to a stop, Luna pranced over, jumping and nipping at me gloatingly. The smaller wolf stopped when I growled at her, and a blink later took off, leaving me to chase once again. It took all my strength to catch up, but instead of pouncing when I did, I just ran alongside Luna.
It didn’t take long until we were in our own field of grape vines, and a minute later we sauntered onto the front porch, gulping frosty air into our burning lungs. I casually trotted to my clothes, which I had folded and laid on the deck and which now, as I touched them with my nose, I could feel were as freezing as the air.
Luna had rapidly Changed back and was pulling on her own icy clothes. “Got to love winter, huh?”
I huffed my sarcastic agreement before Phasing. Without my thick fur to keep me warm, I could already feel the cold seeping to my bones, and pulling on frigid clothes didn’t help one bit.
“You’re really getting good,” Luna praised excitedly as I followed her into the kitchen of her house.
“Eh,” I shook my head, “you’re still the champ. I can’t even keep you on the ground long enough to pin you.”
“Hey Camille,” Luna greeted her sister as she sat at the table, and shrugged humbly. “Yeah, but I didn’t even hear you coming. Once you get better at your pinning technique you’ll be unstoppable!”
“Where’d you guys go?” Camille sat down at the table with us, directing her question more at Luna.
I avoided making eye contact with her, knowing she probably wouldn’t look at me anyway, and instead glanced at the smaller of the twins. It had been two months since I’d been Changed, and Camille still hadn’t forgiven me for having to break up with her. I understood that it had to have been painful for her, and assumed that maybe she was afraid of it happening again. While I was willing to wait the rest of my long life for her to forgive me, I’d been hoping I wouldn’t have to.
Over the past months, it was Camille who’d been teaching me how to control my Changes. Even though we’d slowly been recuperating our relationship to friendship, it was still awkward between us. I could admit it was due, largely in part, to my mood swings and angry outbursts. Being a werewolf made all my emotions and instincts more acute, and while I learned how to control them, I was prone to frustration tantrums. Unfortunately for Camille and I’s relationship, it was almost always her who was at the receiving end of my fits.
I tried to hide a frown as I remembered one of my worst fits. I’d learned to Phase when I wanted to, but couldn’t stop it when I didn’t want to. Camille had been trying to get me close to the edge of a Change when I lost control of myself. Because she thought I had more restraint than I really did, she didn’t back up in time, and I bit her on the hand. I’d let go as quickly as I could when I realized how out of line I’d been, but the damage was done, and she had needed stitches. I’d almost died of guilt, and wanted so badly for her to bite back sometime, or at the very least get mad. But she’d just shrugged it off and said we’d try again in a few days.
My eyes led me to the pink scar on the back of Camille’s hand. Even though it was a couple weeks ago, the mark still looked fresh. Or maybe it was my mind playing tricks on me, amping up the damage so I’d have a reasonable symbol of my guilt. Her hand disappeared under the table, and I looked up to see that she’d caught me looking at it. I awkwardly cleared my throat and got up to get a glass of water.
“You really should’ve come this time Camille,” Luna was still talking about our night as I sat back down. “Kyla’s getting really good. I bet she could hold her own even against you.”
Camille let the corner of her mouth turn up halfway in praise, and I realized it had been an entire two months since I’d seen a real smile, one that spread beyond those perfect pink lips to her dark brown eyes.
“I think you’re ready to go home in a couple days,” Camille told me. I perked up and couldn’t help but smile. “You have to make sure you run at least every other day, but your uncontrolled Changes are happening less often. I think you’re ready.”
My grin disappeared as more guilt invaded my emotional privacy. The night a dangerous mutt named Jonathan had kidnapped me, he’d forged a note from me to my parents, telling them I’d run away. I’d passed by my house on runs, snuck close to catch a fleeting glimpse of a family member, but they hadn’t seen me. I hadn’t spoken to them or left any clues as to where I was, and this whole time I’d been not even ten minutes away. So after weeks of no contact, knowing the trouble I’d get in for leaving, and how much of a struggle it would be to be back home, I was nervous as hell.
Both Camille and Luna were looking at me concernedly, as my anxiety must have been etched on my face. “I’m just nervous, and I know I’ll be in a lot of trouble.” I apprehensively fidgeted with my fingers.
“Yeah, but I know they’re going to be really happy you’re okay,” Camille told me reassuringly.
“And they’ll be even happier you’re okay so they can kill you themselves,” Luna nodded her agreement and joked sarcastically.
“Oh that’s something to look forward to, thanks,” I laughed, rolling my eyes.
Luna shrugged and stood to stretch. “Well I’m going to bed. Night ladies.”
Both Camille and I said goodnight, and then sat there in a moment of semi-awkward silence. We both stood at the same time, laughing nervously as the tension thickened. I motioned toward the door for her to leave first, and then followed her into the living room. While she sat on the couch and flipped through the television channels, I walked to the large bookshelf on the far side of the room. The whole time I’d lived with Camille’s family, I hadn’t noticed the books until now.
Nearly all of them were old, and I took in a deep breath of the rich, musty smell they gave off. Running my finger along the spines, I silently mouthed the titles until I reached one that spurred my interest. The Underworld Omnibus. I pulled the large volume from the shelf, and as I opened the cover, plopped down on the couch. I felt Camille’s body tense when I landed closer than I’d expected to her, and after an embarrassed and apologetic smile I scooted a couple inches over.
It took a moment for me to recover from pulling myself away from Camille, as I realized how much I missed being close to her. Pushing back the deep sense of longing rising in me, I turned through the first couple pages. Each of the leathery pieces of paper was thick, and if not for the yellowing crisp of old age, they’d have been strong and flexible. Going through the table of contents I read what seemed to be a categorized list. Deities, page 5. Demons, page 98. I continued reading until a category caught my eye. The Undead, page 387. Turning to page 387, I skimmed through until I found what I was looking for. Vampires. I’d heard about vampires in stories and movies, but I never thought they could be real. Of course, a few months ago I wouldn’t have thought werewolves existed either.
“Camille?” I waited for her to raise her eyebrows questioningly. “Are vampires real too?”
“Mhm,” she nodded, and with a click she flipped to the next channel.
I looked over the picture of the vampire in the book and studied what seemed to be an exaggerated drawing. The vampire was wearing ancient, tattered formal wear. Two large, pointed wings stemmed farther than both arm-spans from each side of its back, and it smiled so its sharp fangs flashed menacingly. “Have you ever met one?”
“Nope,” she answered, shaking her head. “Why?”
“I was just wondering. They’re in this book.” I held up the book so Camille could see the picture. “Are we rea
lly mortal enemies with them?”
She chuckled, while again shaking her head. “No, but we’re not best of friends either. I’d say it’s more of a… you do your thing and I’ll do mine and we’ll try not to cross paths kind of a relationship.”
“Oh.” I yawned and closed the book. “Well, goodnight. We’ll practice Phasing some more tomorrow?”
Camille nodded and said goodnight, and I trudged up the stairs to her room. Since I’d been staying there, Camille had given up her room for me and had moved in with Luna. I felt bad for having kicked her out of her room, but even though I missed her, I preferred that to the tension between us. Closing the door behind me, I started stripping my clothing, stopping to look at myself in the mirror. I slowly gazed down my torso to the scar under my left breast, and turned to look at the same one on my back. I don’t know where the bullet had gone after Jonathan shot me, but when I was bitten, the werewolf gene left me with a nice blemish to remind me of the pain. Holding up my hand, I studied the two small, round scars on my palm, then flipped my hand to look at the matching two on the other side. They weren’t big, but I did wish Luna had bitten me in a more inconspicuous place. I rarely wore gloves, and so the bite-marks would be ever present and visible.
After pulling on my pajamas, I lay down on the bed and buried my face in the pillows and sheets, inhaling as deeply as I could. Camille’s scent was long gone from the covers, but it didn’t stop me from trying. With a gloomy sigh I grabbed the extra pillow and set it beside me, wrapping my arm around it and trying to trick myself into believing there was a warm body with me. That Camille was there with me.