Pack of Freaks: Beasts Among Us - Book 2

by Jennifer Zamboni

  “Evangeline, please get the tea going,” I directed the sullen teenager, who was doing nothing to help.

  “No.”

  “Um, that wasn’t actually a yes or no question.” I balled my fists on my hips.

  “Sounded like one.” She rested her chin on her hands and attempted to stare me down.

  My irritation grew. “Just do it, kid.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Evangeline rose from her seat and stomped up the stairs.

  Seriously? She was a teenage wolf, full moon had just begun waning, she had to be starving.

  I opened my mouth to yell up the stairs at her.

  Doug shook his head at me. “Don’t.”

  “Why not?” I asked, only half keeping an eye on the sausage I had cooking, not thinking through the fact that she wouldn’t be able to hear me yell.

  “I’ll talk to her in a bit,” Doug promised, dishing food on the plates.

  With a quiet sigh, I started the tea myself. As I opened the airtight tea canister, a scent wafted up at me that I hadn’t expected, a new ingredient perhaps. I mentally shrugged and assembled the pot of tea, before setting the kettle on the stove to boil.

  “I can’t take it anymore,” Christina announced as she blew into the kitchen.

  “What?” asked Doug, scraping the last bit of eggs and bacon onto the plates.

  “Rochelle and Jerry. Well, mostly Jerry, but they’re kind of a package deal.” Christina named the conjoined twin circus freaks.

  Doug nodded. “What’s he done now?”

  “He won’t leave the staff, alone. I’m not impressed. Plus, I’m married, and he’s attached to his sister. Doesn’t he find that awkward?”

  “He probably would if his flirtations were effective enough to get him some, but I’ve never seen him make any conquests. He’s harmless,” said Doug, shrugging his shoulders.

  “Harmless,” said Christina with a harrumph. “He’s driving us all crazy. We tried to get them to do some work, to earn their keep. Rochelle is willing, but Jerry isn’t, which means she can’t get anything done either.”

  “I’m not doing any work,” said Doug quietly.

  “You’re with Gretchen.” Christina dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Besides, you’re busy keeping tabs on the pup. Anyhow, how are we supposed to keep our fae blood secret, in concerns to the government, with all the circus freaks around?”

  “You’re not exactly all normal,” said Sabrina, who had appeared from who knows where, on her silent, perpetually bare feet, despite the cold temperatures.

  She had to be referring to Dante, who looked just left of human, even with his heavy glamour, or C.J. who was a chameleon, a shape-shifter.

  “Oh honey, yourself and Caleb are also excluded from my wrath,” said Christina.

  Sabrina frowned. She didn’t like anyone picking on her charges. “I suppose I can understand. Jerry can be a bit much. I will have a talk with him.”

  “That would be most appreciated,” said Christina.

  Doug moved around me, getting a second smaller tea service prepared.

  “Um, I think this will be plenty.” I tapped the already waiting pot.

  “We’re going to need it.” He kissed me and settled the new pot on a tray with a mug and breakfast for Evangeline.

  I couldn’t argue with that, plus the girl was volatile, as were most teenagers, so I heard, and extra calming tea probably wouldn’t hurt.

  Doug and I sat down to breakfast and tried to ignore the drama going on around us between the staff and the freaks. They all made an appearance, including Rochelle and Jerry, who tried to hit on me as well. Jerry, not poor Rochelle, who was doing her best to be invisible beside her brother. I stopped him in his tracks with a low growl, and Doug told him to get lost.

  “What is going on here?” Percy finally made her way downstairs, resplendent in a deep blue, fuzzy bathrobe and leather slippers, her blonde hair in a sleep-rumpled braid down her back.

  “Drama,” I stated dryly, sipping my tea. It tasted slightly different too. “This is actually good.” I held up my mug.

  “Leave the drama out of my kitchen, if you please,” said Percy, then she addressed my second comment. “I tweaked it.”

  “With what?” I asked.

  “Not telling, but I’m glad you like it. I see you found your Slim Jim stash. Your wolf is quite fond of those nasty things.” She indicated the open cabinet.

  Great. They were training treats.

  “I think we’re making progress. Also, I think we should add some extra training sessions during the rest of the month.”

  I scowled and consumed my tea in silence.

  “Maybe you should start training Evie too,” suggested Doug.

  “I will train you all, once I’ve achieved satisfactory success with Gretchen.”

  I rolled my lip. My pack was my responsibility, but I supposed my human self couldn’t hold any influence against the wolves during full moon, so I was secretly thankful for all of Percy’s hard work. Not that I would ever admit it, that would make her far too smug.

  “Gretchen, aren’t you meeting up with Natasha today?” asked Doug.

  I had forgotten. “Yup, absolutely.”

  “Why don’t you go get ready, and I’ll go deal with Evie,” he suggested.

  “Sure.” I got up from my empty plate and hunted down a large travel mug to carry my share of the tea in.

  “Here’s one,” Percy located my favorite and handed it to me.

  “Thanks.” I accepted it, poured in my tea, capped it, and headed to my bedroom.

  I could hear voices as I entered the upstairs hall. I couldn’t make out the words, but I could mark Doug’s deep rumbling. His voice was always deeper closer to full moon, when the wolf was close, and Evangeline’s flat tone. She never raised her voice, I’d give her that. I passed that door by and tried the next, which opened easily to my touch.

  Good, my room.

  I treated myself to an extra hot shower and a generous amount of deep conditioner, breathing deep the lavender scented steam, trying to store up some calm before I went out in public.

  My tangles were a nightmare, but I persevered with the aid of a large wide-toothed comb, some serum, and tons of leave-in conditioner.

  I applied some eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick, and dabbed some lavender oil on my pulse points, plus spritzed homemade lavender body spray all over. I probably smelled a bit overwhelming, but I didn’t care. Every little bit helped. I threw on my customary black wardrobe and added a leather jacket, more for the comfort of others, than my own, I was plenty toasty in a T-shirt.

  Lastly, I put on my heart rate monitor, which just looked like a cheap watch. I was good to go. I thought longingly of my motorcycle, but headed to my truck instead, bearing my now customary bag of yarn.

  The day was a bleak one, with not even a hint of sun. I like the sun, I wanted it back. I scowled up at the sky from time to time as I drove.

  I arrived at Natasha’s shop and noticed some changes. In place of the cardboard, heavy gray paisley curtains now blocked the windows, and there was a sign: Knit Stitch, in bold lettering that looked like cross stitch.

  How homey. I was actually being serious, the storefront, even without being able to see in, was very inviting.

  I knocked on the front door and hefted my light bag onto my shoulder.

  “Come in,” a voice shouted from within.

  I found Natasha sorting through a large box of yarn on the floor in front of a cubby-filled shelf. She sat cross-legged as she organized, clad in lace-covered leggings and an oversized fuchsia sweater.

  “Hey, Gretchen.” She clambered to her feet when she got to a good stopping spot. “How are things?”

  “They’re going,” I commented vaguely, thinking about the stressful breakfast that morning.

  “I hear you, I hear you.” She didn’t pry, and I liked that about her. “How’s the knitting?”

  I stepped closer, then stopped short when I g
ot a whiff of her.

  “You smell like magic,” I accused without thinking.

  “Oh well, I might have a wee drop o’ the fae in me,” she answered smoothly.

  “What are you?” I persisted. She had admitted to being fae before, but today my curiosity was piqued. She didn’t smell of just a little magic like Sabrina did, but of great big globs of it, like Christina, or even Percy.

  “That’s for me to know, dog, and share in due time. This is not due time.” She didn’t sound angry with my questions, quite the opposite, she sounded amused.

  “Humph,” I grumbled but kept a hold of my good nature. “The knitting is good, I think, I’m about done with the scarf.” I returned to the original subject.

  “Let’s see it.” Natasha motioned me over to the sitting area she had further embellished on, with a few more chairs and tables, since I’d last been there.

  I chose a cushy chair near the coffee table and set my things down, pulling out the scarf that had gained considerable length, still on its needles, and handed it over.

  “Very nice seed stitch,” she complimented. “Good even tension. You are satisfied with the length?”

  “Yup.” I had even reverted back to the original garter stitch for balance to finish it off.

  “Then let’s bind it off.” She picked up a square of knitting from her bag that was resting on the floor and proceeded to demonstrate.

  I was surprised at how easy it was. I was soon holding a nearly finished scarf with no needles attached.

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “That is it. Now, all there is to do is weave in your ends. There are all sorts of ways, but I’ll just show you one for now.”

  Again, I received a demonstration, which I did my best to copy with the plastic tapestry needle she handed me.

  “Are you actually Russian?” Maybe I could narrow down nationalities and figure out what mythology she might be from.

  “Not lately, but the name stuck,” she answered my question slyly.

  I squinched up my face. “Well, that tells me nothing.”

  Natasha laughed at that. “Good!” She placed her knitting on the table. “What would you like to make next?” she asked.

  I threw my hands, palms up, to the sides “Any suggestions?”

  Natasha got up and sashayed over to a fully stocked bookshelf and pulled a few books down, seemingly at random.

  “Look these over.” She set part of her selection in front of me. “See if anything tickles your fancy.”

  I picked the first one off the stack and started flipping through dishcloth patterns. There were a few that were quite pretty, but I didn’t use dish clothes on a regular basis. I wondered if I could use the pattern for anything else, then set it aside.

  The next was a mishmash. Scarves, sweaters, mittens, and various other items. I studied the patterns that accompanied the pictures and was flummoxed.

  “This isn’t in English,” I complained.

  “Sure it is, everything is just abbreviated. The K’s mean knit, the P’s mean purl.”

  “What about Y-O?”

  “Yarn over. Here, these should help with that.” Natasha handed me a couple of technique books. “There’s a section in this one for reading patterns.” She tapped the cover of the book in my left hand.

  “I have no idea where to start.” I spread the books on the table in front of us.

  “How about a hat?” Natasha selected a book and flipped it open. “Like this one.” She tapped the page. “It’s even knit flat and then seamed.”

  “Uh, okay,” I conceded, looking the page over.

  “Wonderful. Now you just need to pick some yarn. I have some lovely superwash merino wool, lots of colors, come see!”

  “Whaty, what-what?” I muttered, having no idea what she was talking about.

  “Superwash wool is machine washable. Any other wool you have to hand wash and lay out to dry,” she said, stationing me in front of a bright display.

  “Ah,” I said.

  “And merino is a very soft sheep. Touch this,” she commanded, holding out a deep purple skein to me.

  I did. “Oh, this is lovely!” I squished it between my fingers.

  “Isn’t it great? Now, do you want to make this hat for yourself or someone else?”

  “Myself,” I decided the scarf was for Doug, I wanted the hat for me.

  “Then go wild on the color, pick one.”

  Right. Pick one. My eyes glazed over as I tried to settle on one, my hands seeming to fill on their own.

  “You could get them all,” Natasha suggested.

  “You just want my money,” I said.

  “Well, yes, but there’s nothing wrong with a good yarn stash. And you can always make more than one hat.”

  “True. Question: could I make a bunch of the dishcloth squares and put them together as a blanket?”

  “Of course!” Natasha sounded thrilled at the idea.

  “All right then, how much yarn do I need for the hat?”

  “Two skeins should do it. Make sure you wind it into a ball first, or it will get all tangled.”

  “Good to know. How about to make a square?”

  “A skein should get you two or three.”

  I picked two each of the dark purple and light blue skeins, a pink, and a cream colored one to start off the blanket, carrying them to the front counter, plus four of the books.

  “You’re gonna make a fortune today, and you’re not even opened yet.” I settled up with Natasha and waited as she bagged everything up for me.

  “You’re such a good friend,” she said with a wink.

  “I really am,” I agreed and took my bags over to the sitting area so Natasha could get me started.

  Back at home, I sat next to Caleb’s tank in the library and worked on my hat, while Doug and Evangeline did schoolwork.

  She smelled sour with frustration as she struggled to master the basic lessons. Doug was a patient man, but he didn’t have an easy student, so there was just a whiff of frustration about him as well.

  “This is stupid.” Evangeline threw her pencil down and crossed her arms.

  “You’ll get it,” Doug promised, handing her the pencil again. “You just need to be patient with yourself.”

  “I’m never going to get it.” She threw the pencil across the room. “I hate it here, I want to go home.” With that, she thrust herself to her feet and stomped out of the library.

  Doug growled and lay his head down on the table.

  “Deep breath,” I suggested, returning my attention to my hat.

  “Easy for you to say.” Doug’s voice was muffled by his arms that surrounded his head.

  “Rough afternoon?” I set my things aside and came to sit in Evangeline’s abandoned chair and rubbed his back.

  Keeping his head in his arms, Doug nodded.

  “I’ll go make some tea.” I rose, kissed his hairy neck, and headed for the kitchen.

  Evangeline was a problem that I didn’t have a clue how to solve. If she didn’t settle down soon, we’d have a real problem on our hands. There was definitely a reason that her father felt the need to put her down, but there had to be another way. Even if we never got along, there just had to be something, as an alpha, that I could do. I didn’t have a clue what that something might be.

  I decided to have a talk with her. So, bearing three thermoses of tea, I left the kitchen again, dropped one off with Doug, and headed upstairs.

  Normally, I would have knocked on her door, but as she couldn’t hear, it would be pointless.

  She was sitting on her bed, her legs crisscrossed, staring at the blank wall. I touched her shoulder, making her jump and snarl. When I beheld her tearstained face, I saw that it was distorted from lack of control. Her eyes were large and canine. Her teeth took over her mouth with razor-sharp points. Her ears were pointed and growing fur.

  “Get out!” she commanded, though it was slightly garbled by her misshapen jaw.

  “Get a
hold of yourself, pup,” I snapped back, fighting my own wolf. I had to maintain control of myself if I wanted to keep control of the situation.

  She snarled at me again, and I picked up on something else. She stank of fear. Of me.

  I moved deliberately slow, setting her thermos on the nightstand, then came around and stood in front of her. I did not squat down, as was my human instinct, instead, I stood tall and steady, my feet planted shoulder width apart, and I put my hands on my hips.

  “If you don’t want to die, you will get control of yourself and check that temper. Especially around alphas.” I spoke with command, and though Evangeline couldn’t hear it, she could feel it.

  Very slowly her features normalized. Her ears receded and her fangs changed shape. The only sign of her wolf was in her eyes.

  “You will spend half your day in lessons with Doug, and the other half, you will work for Christina.”

  She scowled at me, but I continued. “You will drink your tea, you will bathe daily, and you will put more effort into your control. Nod if you understand.”

  She nodded.

  “Good. You have one month. If you can’t get control by then, then I don’t think this is going to work.” I didn’t wait for a reaction, just left her there to consider my words. Very carefully, I hoped.

  “How did it go?” Doug asked.

  “About as expected. I laid down some reality for her. I hope it sinks in,” I said.

  “You and me both. I’m certainly worried. All she talks about, when she does talk, is going back to her brother, as if she doesn’t have a clue it would be a death sentence.” He sat in my favorite armchair, and I settled myself on his lap with my arms around his neck, my nose tucked behind his ear.

  “I think she knows, even if she pretends not to. Things with her are bad, but not as bad as her mother inferred. Of course, it could be that her father is just a dick. He certainly came off that way.” I laid my head on top of Doug’s shaggy hair and watched Caleb try to make friends with one of his new fish.