Wolfsbane and Mistletoe (Page 80)

"Yeah, but tomorrow is the pack Christmas party. There won’t be time for a decent run!" Jake knew he was whining, and in a bratty kid way rather than the way a submissive wolf was supposed to, but he couldn’t help it.

"Jake, a little girl is missing! Isn’t that more important?"

"She’s human, right? Not a member of the pack?"

"What difference does that make?"

"Are you kidding? If she’s human, let the other humans worry about it."

Felicia came back into the kitchen, having changed into all black. As in a black Labrador retriever. She padded over to Brian, who put the harness on her, and fitted the phone and other things into the harness pockets.

"Good hunting, Mom," Ruby said, putting her arms around the big dog.

"Thanks, sweetie," Felicia replied in the odd voice some werewolves were able to muster, even while in other forms. Jake hadn’t even come close to mastering the technique himself. "I’ll be back before Santa comes. You go watch Rudolph."

"Jake," Brian said, "will you keep Ruby company for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, sure." He followed the little girl back into the living room, but stayed close enough to the door to the kitchen to listen in. He’d learned years before that he was good at eavesdropping, without knowing why his hearing was so much sharper than normal. Than normal human hearing, he corrected himself.

"Can you believe that?" Felicia said, half-growling. "More worried about a run than a lost child?"

"He’s a teenager," Brian said. "He thinks the world revolves around him."

"I think you’re wasting your time with him, Brian. He’s not right for the pack."

Jake silently flipped her the bird, even if she couldn’t see it. See if he ever helped her put up her junky manger scene again.

"Give him time," Brian said soothingly.

"I won’t let him ruin Ruby’s Christmas!"

"Ruby likes him."

She snorted, though it was more of a snuffling while she was in that form. "That’s something in his favor anyway."

A car horn sounded from the driveway.

Brian said, "There’s Dave. You better go. Good hunting, love."

Felicia barked in response, and Jake heard Brian opening the door for her to bound out to the car. He scooted over to the television so he could pretend to care about a singing, candy-ass reindeer.

Brian came to the doorway. "Jake, could you come in here?"

"Sure."

He followed the pack leader, and the two of them sat down at the kitchen table.

"Look," Jake said, "maybe I could go out by myself. A lot of the guys are taking their first solo tonight."

"I talked to your teachers about that possibility."

"Really?" he said eagerly. "I’m ready, I know I am."

"What’s the pack’s first rule for a run?"

"Stay away from humans."

"And if you can’t?"

"Don’t interfere with them in any way. Stay out of their sight."

"And if you can’t?"

"I won’t go anywhere near a human, Brian, I swear."

"What’s the rule if you can’t stay out of a human’s sight?"

He sighed, and quoted, "If you are seen, make sure to be in a form that will not cause alarm."

"Have you managed to take another form?"

"Not exactly."

"Which means what, exactly?"

Jake looked down at his hands. "It means I can be a different-colored wolf," he said, thinking about his classmates’ snickers when the best he could do was to morph into a wolf with a deep purple coat, while they were successfully changing into German shepherds, Rottweilers, cocker spaniels, even an enormous Maine coon cat.

"That’s not good enough. You’re not ready for a solo."

"Why can’t I just run as a wolf? Even in that story you told me about the angels and crap, you said we didn’t start out as dogs, right? We aren’t poodles or terriers or freaking opossums. We’re wolves! For the first time in my life, I know what I am!"

"You’re a werewolf. And if you’ve paid attention in class, you know that means man-wolf. The human comes first, and humans make choices. We can change into anything we choose to."

"I tried changing into something else. It didn’t work."

"Keep trying. You just need to choose a form you’re comfortable with. Felicia runs as a Labrador retriever most of the time, and I’m a pretty convincing Newfoundland."

"I’m not comfortable as anything but a wolf."

"Maybe you just don’t want it badly enough."

Jake looked Brian right in the eye. "Well, maybe I don’t. Maybe I like being a wolf, and maybe I don’t want to change into anything else."

"Then you’re not going to solo. It’s okay if you want to change tonight, but you have to stay in the house."

"Yeah, whatever." As if he’d feel any less trapped as a wolf. It’d be even worse, to smell more of the outdoor world he was missing.

He started to slouch his way back to the living room.

"And Jake," Brian added, "if I catch you eavesdropping on me and Felicia again, you won’t get a solo run until you’re thirty!" Jake didn’t know if it was the leader’s voice or the way he held himself that suddenly made him seem more lupine than most of the pack was under a full moon.

Son of a bitch! How had he known? Jake threw himself down on the couch, glaring at the TV screen while the dumb reindeer moaned about being a misfit. He should try being the only outsider in the pack. Jake had been used to always being the new guy when he was moving between foster homes. He hadn’t cared then. Now he was finally someplace he wanted to stay, someplace he wanted to belong, but he was going to be stuck being the new kid forever. Not being able to tell the guys at the Christmas party about his run was only going to make it worse. Maybe he could make something up. He grinned, imagining himself chasing after Rudolph and making more than his nose red.

The only good part of the evening was that Brian mostly ignored him. Instead he and Ruby laughed their way through watching Christmas videos, eating gingerbread men, and actually hanging a row of piece-of-crap stockings by the fireplace. Felicia stayed gone, and though she and Dave called in a few times, he didn’t bother to ask what was happening and he sure as hell didn’t eavesdrop.

When Jake finally escaped into the guest room, he refused to look out the window at the fat moon hanging in the sky, calling to him. What was the point of changing in the house? What was he supposed to do then? Curl up like a puppy on a tweenaged girls’ poster? Maybe Brian had a Santa hat for him, and would take cutesy pictures for next year’s Christmas card. Hell, why didn’t they just get him fixed?