"Yeah."
"Never mind," Aiden said, kissing her ear. "When you're sprung, we'll have our own party."
He was gullible, Vivian thought. That irked her slightly. But he had no reason to distrust her; why shouldn't he believe?
Aiden didn't have to be at work until six so Vivian allowed him to drive her home. "But you can't stay long," she told him to keep up the act. "My mother will be home soon." That was true, anyway. Esmé worked the day shift around the full moon. Biting customers didn't make for good tips.
They sat on a log at the far edge of the backyard under the broccoli-headed summer trees.
"Which is your room?" Aiden asked.
Vivian pointed to the window above the screened-in back porch, and he sighed loudly to tease her.
"I'll miss you tomorrow," Aiden said. There were crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. He was a creature of warm sun and comfort.
"What made you write about werewolves?" she asked, thinking of the dark forest in his poem.
Aiden shrugged. "I like all that stuff - witches, vampires, werewolves. It's exciting."
"Why's that?"
"I don't know. I've never thought about it. Because I want to be like them, maybe? I don't want to be like everyone else." He carefully allowed an ant to crawl from his wrist to a blade of grass.
Vivian laughed. Any one of the Five would have crushed that bug. "I don't think you'd make a good werewolf."
"Sure I would." He grabbed her hand and playfully bit her fingers. His teeth set loose tiny lightning within her.
Raucous hoots filled the woods behind them, and bodies crashed through the undergrowth. She pulled her hand away.
"What's that?" Aiden asked.
"My cousins," she answered. "Damn them." They couldn't find him here with her. Not that she couldn't handle them, but she didn't want to raise any questions she couldn't answer for Aiden. And what if he blamed them for getting her grounded? Great Moon, they'd laugh.
"I've got to go in," she said. "I promised not to hang with them while I'm grounded. They've only come to screw around outside and piss off my mother."
"Some family," he said, and tried to kiss her.
She hated to push him away. "Go, go, go. They're trouble."
He glanced at the woods and she saw worry in his eyes, but his lips took on a stubborn hardness.
"Please, for my sake," she said, to save his pride.
He hesitated. "Well, okay. See you before you know it," he promised, and left by the side path.
Saturday evening stretched on forever, golden with sun and rich with the smell of honeysuckle.
"Come with us," Esmé begged. Most of the pack were going up to the state park to run.
"Not this time," Vivian said. She wanted to be alone. There would be fights, she knew. They would call it playing but they would be testing each other, seeing who had what it took for the Ordeal. She didn't feel like fights. She only wanted the clear smells and the crazy stars. There was a new warmth in her and she wanted to embrace the night in peace.
You are smitten, she told herself, and she stretched like a happy puppy.
Up in her room she worked on her mural. She painted herself in her skin, watching the running wolves. It didn't look right. Maybe she should show herself changing, ready to join them.
I wish I was changing clothes to go to that party, she thought, and threw her brush down.
Red dappled the sky, fireflies flickered outside her window - little wantons looking for a night of love - and the voices of the dusk grew loud. The fine hairs on Vivian's back rose, eager for the change. Wait a while, she told herself, wait till it's fully dark. But it was hard to wait for the night at full moon.
There was muffled laughter in the yard below. What now? A chorus of ragged voices split the air, drowning out the insect song. "Ahwooo! Ahwooo!"
She stuck her head out the window. "Quit that howling out there."
The howling dissolved into more laughter.
"Come out and run with us, Vivian," Willem called. "Please, please."
"No way," Vivian called back. She climbed out onto the roof and looked down. Finn appeared disgusted as Willem wrung his hands theatrically. Ulf was fidgeting as usual, hopping from one foot to the other as if he wanted to pee. Gregory grinned glitteringly bright; his teeth were already pointed. "Come on, Viv. We're gonna have a great time."
Rafe beckoned with a claw. "The moon feels good on your back, Viv."
Vivian could feel the wolf inside uncurling, but she laughed derisively. "It's not the moon you picture on my back. Go visit your head-banger sluts and see what they think of you with your fur on. They probably won't notice the difference."
Gregory's pointy grin got wider at that suggestion and Ulf giggled. Great Moon, she thought.
Willem looked up with huge, disappointed eyes. "Aw, Viv. You never come anymore. The rabbits are getting sassy. One poked its tongue out at me last night."
She softened slightly. She and Willem used to have the best times rabbit hunting. "Another time, okay, Willi? But not full moon."
Rafe put his arm around Gregory's shoulders. "Come on then. That bitch is too stuck up to hang with us anymore. She prefers meat-boys. Didn't your mother tell you not to play with your food?" he yelled up at her.
Willem shot her an apologetic glance, and Gregory blew her a kiss. Finn nudged Ulf in the rear with a boot, making him squeak. When they reached the gloom of the woods she saw Rafe toss his shirt in the air and saw Finn tip forward to stand on paws.
She sat on the porch roof, allowing them plenty of time to leave. They usually ran toward the city to find mischief in the urban debris; she would run upstream through local parks and quiet neighborhoods.
A pleasant hum coursed through her. The night began to look different - the hairs on a leaf stood huge like a forest, the edges of the trees were crisp. She lay back to enjoy the stars.
Did we come from there? she wondered. Are we an alien race that was marooned? Perhaps our transmuting power was a survival trick, and now we've forgotten that human wasn't our first form. Perhaps belief in the Moon Goddess was only an echo of an ancient truth.
The shingles beneath her were rough and pleasing to her sensitive skin. She already felt the beginning creak of bones reforming, the pop of sinews changing.
She forced down the cramp in her gut; she would have to leave soon. She couldn't change on a rooftop lit by moonlight. What would the neighbors think?
As if on cue, she smelled the odor of a human. Someone taking an evening stroll, perhaps?
There was scrabbling down where the drainpipe emptied. Rat? She rose to a crouch. No, someone was climbing the pipe. She heard a muffled grunt of effort and the tiny ching of metal against metal.
Burglar? The lights were off, the truck was gone, it was Saturday night. Possible.
Vivian crept to the edge of the roof, keeping low. Her eyes narrowed, her claws grew, and her smile was thin and vicious. Burglar Bill would take some stripes home.
She lifted her hand to strike as a head rose over the eaves.
"You!" She snatched her hand back.
"Vivian, you scared the piss outta me."
Aiden pulled himself over the gutter and onto the roof.
Chapter 7
7
"Surprise!" Aiden said.
Vivian swallowed a growl. No shit.
"What are you doing here?" she managed to choke out as she sat back on her haunches. She trembled with the strain of holding back the change.
"I thought you'd be happy to see me," Aiden said.
"You startled me," she muttered, sorry about the hurt in his eyes.
His velvet smile forgave her. "I thought if you couldn't get to the party, I'd bring the party to you." He crawled to her side and shrugged off his backpack. She almost pulled away but the richness of his smell held her close against her will. "I wasn't expecting to find you on the roof," he said. "I was gonna knock on your window." He unbuckled the backpack and pulled out a bottle of wine.
Dear Moon, he's sweet, Vivian thought in anguish. A swift pang hit her gut, and she bit the inside of her cheek, hoping the pain would keep her sane. Not sweet like that, she screamed silently, staring with panicked eyes at his round firm thighs.
After the wine came two glasses wrapped in a bandanna, then a chunk of cheese, a plastic knife, and some paper napkins left over from Christmas.
"Classy, huh?" Aiden's eyes glittered with delight.
She licked her lips nervously. "Lovely. You brought dinner," she heard herself say. She wanted to bolt for the woods. You fool, she thought. You shouldn't have come.
She glanced at the moon. It was still behind the trees, its light mercifully broken by foliage so that she and Aiden were covered by mottled shadow. Could he see any change in her? Aiden was cutting slices of cheese onto the bandanna, babbling away. He didn't seem to notice anything wrong.
She experienced a dizzying surge of pain and pleasure and her face twitched. Her hands flew to her ears and felt them push past her fingers. She hastily pulled her hair around her face.
How do I make him go? she thought as her joints began to pop.
"Here you go." He held a slice of cheese to her mouth and it was all she could do not to take his fingers off. The cheese was sharp and ripe and clung to her tongue. She sluiced it down with the glass of wine he offered.
"Hey, silly, you're supposed to sip," he said. "I don't want you doing something you'll regret later." His eyes suggested otherwise.
Her lips raised into what she hoped was a smile; then she turned away swiftly. How were her teeth?
He moved closer and put an arm around her. "You pick a funny time to go shy on me," he said.
Her shoulders shook with silent laughter at her stupidity. How could she think she could be intimate with a human? She detected an undeniable rippling up her spine, and a hardness came to her eyes and the corners of her mouth. She tested a new idea. So what if I hurt him?
"Vivian?" Aiden whispered. His breath was light on her cheek, fragrant with the warm wine and cheese.
It was a stupid thought. She doubled over and moaned. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"What's wrong?" Aiden asked, surprise and concern in his voice.
"I think I'm coming down with the flu," she said. What a brainstorm. "Maybe you should go. I don't want you to catch it."
"But someone should look after you if you're ill."
"I'd rather be alone," she insisted through clenched teeth.
Still he didn't move to go.
"What's wrong with you, boy?" she cried. "Do you like watching people throw up?"
His eyes widened.
She felt like a jerk. She changed her tone. "Please. I'll be embarrassed if you stay."
"But - "
A spasm ripped through her and the bones in her knees crunched. "Go! Please go!" she yelled, and scrambled for the window like a drunk, her legs refusing to obey. "I'm going to be sick."
She dove onto her bed, rolled to the floor, and spidered out of the room on knuckles and toes. She reached the bathroom at the end of the hall and slammed the door behind her. She shot the bolt home.
Outside the window the swollen moon leered at her over the tops of the trees.
She shuddered with pain, and tears outlined her downy face. She had never known a time when she hadn't wanted the change, hadn't enjoyed the change, but now she was nauseated from holding it back. He couldn't see her like this. She couldn't betray her people.
There was a gentle tapping on the bathroom door. "Are you all right? "
She tried to say Yea, I am, but her jaw was wrong for speaking and the words came out a muffled growl. Why was he making this beautiful gift seem dirty?
"Well, if you're sure you'll be okay ..."
"Hhhhhhmmmmmmmmm!" she moaned, hoping it sounded like an affirmative. Her arms lengthened, her muscles bulged, and she tore at her clothes as her pelt rippled over her flesh. She had never had to hide away before. What a crime to trap her beautiful body. It was all his fault.
"Look, like, give me a call tomorrow and let me know how you are. Hope you feel better."
When she was sure he had gone, Vivian quietly pulled back the bolt with short, furred fingers. She reached for the doorknob.
But what if I'm like Axel? she thought. What if I smell him as prey when I'm in fur?
She clenched her hand, withdrew her shaking fist, and curled into a tight, trembling ball on the bathroom floor. I won't go out, she promised. I won't go out. If she did, she might follow him and stalk him to his lair.
She shuddered into her final shape, raised her muzzle, and howled frustration at the porcelain tile. Her voice echoed about her like a curse.
Vivian blinked her eyes in the early-morning sun. The sound of a truck door slamming had awakened her. Esmé and Rudy were back. She sneezed, sending dust mice scurrying, and crawled, pink and naked, out from under the bed, where she'd spent most of the night. She was drained and aching from clenching her body tight against its needs.
I'll have to tell him I can't see him anymore, she thought. I can't hide from him every full moon. She tried to feel self-righteous and committed, but all she felt was a sinking feeling in her gut. He had climbed up to her window, brought her wine, thought of her when he could have been out partying. She remembered the tickle of his hair on her cheek, his breath on her neck, and shivered deliciously.
Vivian reached for her robe, which lay in a silken gray-and-blue shimmer across her desk chair, and dragged a brush through her tangled tawny hair. No, she told herself firmly. I'll leave the poor boy alone. How long before the Five bothered him because of her? How long before the pack stepped in? They wouldn't be leaderless forever. Soon there would be someone to answer to. That last thought annoyed her. Maybe she didn't want to answer to someone.