Chapter 3 #2
“It’s not. He’s being dramatic,” the barista said. “You get one of these from your chosen werewolf, and once you wear it, everyone will know you’re not looking. But—”
“It’s a fucking trap,” Adam repeated.
“Stop scaring him. You’re just upset because you were thinking with your dick when you chose your werewolf.”
Adam picked up the folded papers off the table and waved them in my face. “Read. These. Carefully.” He turned and glared at the other werewolves. “Don’t put up with their shit, and don’t let one try to sweet-talk you. They’re good at that because they only want to use you.”
He just described Roscoe to a T, and I started to feel stupid again. Of course he’d left out all this weird kuu shit.
“Why don’t you just take it off and find another one?” I asked, pointing to the choker. “And why should I even accept one?”
“If I could take it off, I’d have done it already, dumbass.” Adam leaned in closer. “Welcome to werewolf hell.” He pulled up a chair and took his place next to me. “This thing is supposed to help with the homeless werewolf problem, but it’s just exploitation through magic.”
“Magic?” I rolled my eyes. “Would you stop with this crap?”
“Sounds stupid, but I’m telling the truth. You’re about to see a lot of fucked up shit, man.”
“Let me explain this a little better.” The barista slapped the back of Adam’s head again.
“We’re kind of pigeonholed into doing shitty jobs the humans don’t want to do, and these jobs don’t offer any kind of livable wage.
Most werewolves would rather just be homeless rather than work for slave wages.
In this part of town, all businesses are werewolf-owned, and most houses are designated Section-L for half-turns.
They’re tiny little shit-boxes that only have enough space for two, so in response, our community took matters into its own hands by gaming the system, so to speak.
“When you start to shift into a half-turn, you’re eligible for government assistance and housing.
It’s also an unspoken rule that you will have to choose a werewolf to live with until you make the full shift, and you’ll be required to donate half the money you get from the government to the settlement project.
The kuu is a way to ensure you comply with this.
After it’s over, you’ll get to live at a werewolf commune, not governed by humans.
It’s guaranteed housing and actual career opportunities for both you and your chosen werewolf. ”
“Once it’s finished? So, I’ll just be homeless until a commune is ready? And they’re gonna take half my money? What is this commie bullshit?”
“Commie? You’re getting money from the government.
What did you expect?” Adam snapped. “It’s really the only good deal there is—if you can find a werewolf to live with that isn’t a useless piece of shit.
” He grabbed another turnover, but the barista slapped it out of his hand.
“Stop being a nazi. He’s not going to eat six of these things. ”
I tore off a corner of one and held it to my mouth. “If it’s a good deal, why has this been going on for years? It’s not like a commune takes all that long to build.”
“Well, it’s a new system, and it’s not entirely legal—yet,” the brown werewolf said.
“The communes are still off the government radar, and it takes time and money to build enough housing. We’re essentially stealing from the government to do this.
Half-turns that contributed and their chosen werewolves have first dibs on everything.
These communes will spread all over until they are towns big enough to incorporate, and since every werewolf still has the right to vote, we’ll gain real power in the government for once.
Werewolf mayors, werewolf commissioners.
Maybe one day we’ll have a werewolf governor. ”
“This sounds a little sketchy. Has anyone actually seen these places?” I asked.
“Well, not exactly, but—”
“It sounds like someone’s getting their palms greased while giving everyone false hope,” I said, interrupting the barista. “I’d want to see these places for myself before giving money to anything.” I looked around, noting the mood shift. “Hasn’t anyone actually questioned this?”
“I may not have seen the communes, but I have seen towns that have become much more werewolf-friendly,” the barista answered. “Plus, you have to get the kuu, which means you don’t really have a choice. They will take a portion of your money.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I don’t need to live with a werewolf, and I don’t need whatever the hell a kuu is. I’ll just save all the money I get and—”
“And what? Buy a house?” Adam shot me a smug grin. “Who’s gonna sell it to you?”
“It’s a necessary evil, man,” the brown werewolf cut in again. “Even if the communes are just bullshit, the idea’s gaining traction. Those werewolf towns exist, and they wouldn’t have just ten years ago. Sometimes just the idea is enough to spark change.”
I glanced at the chain Adam wore around his neck. “What exactly is a kuu?”
“It’s a piece of enchanted jewelry your chosen werewolf picks out,” the barista replied.
“Why can’t I pick it out?”
“Half-turns aren’t allowed to buy them. They have to be ritualistically attuned to the werewolf before you put it on.
The jewelry he picks out needs to be enchanted on the phase of the moon it corresponds with.
I don’t know all the details, but I do know that it helps calm the unpredictable urges and violence that will come with the transformation.
One of the elders will collect blood from the werewolf and it all happens behind closed doors.
All you have to do is wear it and the government won’t throw you in a cell. ”
“So, no one questions any of this shit? What happens if I lose this thing?”
Adam grabbed my hand and placed it on his necklace. “Try to pull this off.”
“I don’t want to break it.”
He laughed. “If only.”
I gripped the chain and tried to find the fastener, but there wasn’t one. After I gave it a firm tug, the metal seemed to come to life in my hand, shrinking a bit as I let it go. It really looked like magic—or maybe something secretly high tech that no one was allowed to understand.
“It won’t come off until he’s a full werewolf,” the barista said. “That’s when the contract ends.”
It was around noon when I finally made it home, having spent an extra hour or so fending off unwanted attention.
Desperate werewolves from all over Ruskin bombarded me with their weird resumes, some of which looked like they had been carried around for months.
The whole song and dance was a terrible reminder of my months searching for a job, but now I was the one with the power to decide whether someone had a home or remained on the streets.
It was so easy to put emotional distance between me and them when I was human, but those days were quickly drawing to a close.
The apartment was dark and quiet, save for snoring coming from a giant lump on my bed.
How long was he going to sleep? I removed my hoodie and tossed it to the floor before collapsing onto the beanbag chair.
With a remote in hand, I flipped on the television for background noise while shuffling through the folded sheets of paper.
Roscoe groaned repeatedly, as the commotion had finally woken him up, but I ignored him. He groaned louder, and I cranked the volume until the duvet flew off the bed, and he jumped out, baring his teeth.
“I’m tryin’ to sleep!”
I muted the television and glared at him. “It’s noon. Wake the hell up.”
Roscoe yawned and scratched his head. “Really?” He trudged unsteadily toward the window and peeked through the blinds. “Well shit. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I just did,” I muttered, unmuting the TV and skimming the next resume for anything interesting. “Why does every werewolf open with how big his dick is?”
“Wait a minute.” Roscoe walked toward me, his eyes wide. “What’s all that?”
“Details of sexual positions and dick sizes, apparently.” I folded the paper and set it aside. “They’re werewolf roommate candidates.”
“Aw, come on, Dakota!”
I glared at him again.
“I mean, Cody. Yer still on the fence with me? Even after our heart-to-heart last night?”
I fanned the stack of papers at him. “You’ve been trying to pull one over on me since we met. Apparently, there’s a procedure you have to follow for this stuff.” I dropped the stack in front of me. “You conveniently left out the whole kuu thing.”
“Not entirely. I did tell ya I’d get you a nice one last night,” Roscoe said, clearing his throat and sauntering toward the kitchen. “Want something to eat?”
I pushed myself up and stomped into the kitchen, now even more annoyed. “That’s all you said. You didn’t mention that I’d have to wear cursed jewelry that doesn’t come off!”
“It can come off, if you wanna break the contract. It’s not like you die or nothin’. You just lose out on a place to live and we both get a scarlet letter. You can be a homeless werewolf with me. How’s that sound?” He turned back and gave me a half grin.
A familiar pang of rage raced through my head as I pushed past him toward the fridge. To my surprise, there was a pitcher of iced tea on the top shelf.
“You said you liked tea with lemon, so I made some.” He leaned in and sniffed my neck. “See? I remember things you tell me. I’d make a good kuu mate.”
I shut the refrigerator door before grabbing a handful of Roscoe’s chest fluff. “When were you going to tell me about all of this weird shit?”
“After I got them.”
“Them?”
Roscoe brushed my hand away and backed up. “I was thinkin’ you’d look pretty hot in a pair of earrings.”
“I don’t have pierced ears, and I don’t want any.”
“Yet,” he said, his tail fanning behind him. “I know a guy—”
“No.”
“C’mon. You ever see a half-turn’s ears? You’d look really good.”
“I said no.” As I turned away, he caught my chin.
“Didn’t know you were such a nerd.”