Chapter 5 #2
The alpha? An elder? It looked older than the others from the gray on the muzzle, but it was hard to tell, and Hank wasn’t familiar enough with the werewolf packs to know one from the other.
Whomever it was approached Hank with narrowed eyes.
The wolves to either side of Gray Muzzle sneered, curling their lips back to show their teeth.
One gave a low growl of warning while the other looked like he wanted to raise a leg and piss on Hank.
Let him try. With one swipe, Hank could disembowel him. Or at a minimum make sure the bastard never had children.
But then Gray Muzzle snapped at the other two, silencing them with a single clamp of its jaws. Okay. Clearly, Gray Muzzle was in charge of the wolves here. So what exactly—
“Yeah, you best shut up,” Mother said, her voice weak, but growing stronger as she pushed herself upright.
She was bleeding heavily from the shoulder, but her eyes blazed with fury.
“Look what you done to my living room. Just look!” She grimaced as she struggled to stand, but apparently got too dizzy.
She wobbled on her feet and dropped down onto her couch.
Hank surged forward to help her, but a growl—in unison—from all the wolves stopped his motion.
He could do some real damage to those wolves, but it wouldn’t be pretty.
And if they worked together, they could hamstring him in seconds and then take him out at their leisure.
So he waited and prayed that Gray Muzzle was lucid. And restrained.
Meanwhile, Sammy started to help Mother, but the older woman waved everyone back. “You stay right there, girl. Keep a firm grip on that shotgun just like I taught you.” Then she turned her dark gaze on the wolves.
“I’m Mother to everyone on this block, and that includes you damned foolish wolves.
Just look what you done to my home. Smashed my window.
Bled all over my rug. And this here was my favorite couch.
How many of you have sat right here and eaten my chocolate chip cookies?
Crying about some bully or asking me how to talk to some girl? Huh? How many of you?”
Not a one answered. They were in their wolf form, but at least two of them dipped their heads in shame. And still Mother kept going.
“That’s right. I’m Mother, and you destroyed my living room. Now I ask you, what are you going to do about it?”
Silence. Not a single one moved. Then she slapped her hands together in a loud clap.
“I’m talking to you!”
Everyone jolted, but no one wanted to answer. No one, that is, except for Gray Muzzle who walked forward slowly.
Sammy adjusted, moving as if to stand between the wolf and Mother, but Hank puffed out a loud exhalation. The wolves lifted their heads, but the message was for Sammy. She was to stand back and away. She looked at him, met his eyes, and so he shook his head.
With a grimace of distaste, she stepped back and allowed Gray Muzzle to come forward. The wolf walked slowly, respectfully even, until it came face to face with Mother. She stared at it from her seat on her couch. Human eye to wolf eye. Then Mother spoke.
“You got to control your people, Miriam. I told you not to drink the water. I told you—”
Gray Muzzle grumbled, which is when Hank realized that Gray Muzzle was female. And the sounds she was making now were like grumbles of acknowledgment. Like two old women complaining about the stupidity of men over coffee. It wasn’t done in words, but damn if Mother didn’t understand.
“I know they don’t listen, but ain’t there someone in your pack got some sense? That you can talk to?”
Gray Muzzle barked softly and then turned her head.
It was a mournful look, especially as it was accompanied by a soft whine.
Oh hell. The dead werewolf was—had been—a sane wolf.
One who might have listened but probably got the news too late.
He’d probably drunk way too much of the tainted water before Gray Muzzle got to him.
And now he was dead.
“Ah hell, Miriam. I’m sorry.”
And with that, Mother wrapped her good arm around the werewolf and pulled in tight for a hug.
Gray Muzzle went willingly and even licked Mother’s neck.
And when Mother drew back, the wolf nuzzled deeper into the shoulder wound, licking at the blood and tears.
Mother hissed, but allowed it. And then she dropped her head on Gray Wolf’s haunch.
“You’re patrolling, ain’t ya? Trying to catch them hybrids?”
A single bark in the affirmative.
“Well go on then. We’re good here. Got Hank over there to keep us safe.”
Everyone looked at him, and he bared his teeth to show he was ready.
“Sorry about this one,” Mother continued. “We’ll keep his body safe until you can come back in the morning. But what do you want us to do with the others?”
A low growl. And in case anyone had trouble understanding what that meant, Gray Muzzle went over to the wolf-faced hybrid and lifted her leg.
She pissed a long, angry stream on the hybrid before acknowledging Mother with another a nod and leaping out the window.
The other three did the same. They first acknowledged Mother with a press of their nose to her hand, gave another lick to the fallen werewolf on the couch, then one by one, they pissed on the dead hybrids.
Like they needed the extra stench in here.
Mother must have felt the same because as the last one finished, she called loudly to them.
“You’ll be cleaning that up in the morning, too!”
The response came first from Gray Muzzle, then the other three.
She lifted her head and howled, loud and long, and the others chimed in.
It wasn’t a frightening sound. More mournful than angry.
And it seemed to fill the night with a wild kind of awareness.
Mother Nature was in charge tonight. Violent, angry, or even tender. The humans held no sway.
Which was completely thrilling to Hank’s bear side. The human mind looked for Cecilia’s reaction. Was she terrified? Repulsed?
He found her still gripping the bloody Swiss army knife but watching the werewolves with clear interest, maybe even excitement. And when she noticed he was looking at her, she shrugged.
“How could I have been so blind?”
Because everyone took pains to keep the normals from seeing. But he couldn’t say that in his bear form and until they got help, he couldn’t risk shifting back to human. He was stronger and a better defender as a bear. So instead of answering, he tried to smile at her.
Bears can smile, though it takes a special person to understand that. It took an ability to see past the baring teeth to the curve at the back of the muzzle. Few people ever got there, which was why bears rarely bothered. But he tried. For her. And she smiled back.
It was a connection, he realized. A moment when bear and woman understood each other, and he exhaled in relief. She wasn’t terrified anymore. And she wasn’t blind. She was looking at him as if…well, he didn’t know how. He just felt it as—
Her head snapped to the side as Sammy cried out, “Mother!”
Hank’s gaze shot to the couch, where the woman who had saved them all this night wobbled and collapsed.