Chapter 10
Halloween Town
It was around two when Roscoe and I left the house to pick up supplies, leaving Austin and Adam behind to finish unpacking. Downtown Norwich was within walking distance of our new place, and Roscoe was like a dog eager to go to the park.
Every house we passed looked like it had been built over a century ago, and just about every yard had pieces of occult symbolism hanging from trees.
They weren’t the cheesy decorations from department store clearance aisles, either.
They were much creepier—Blair Witch creepy.
Despite the seemingly hostile facade, the humans that were out in their yards seemed genuinely happy to see us, often waving or coming up to say hi.
Even the children we encountered seemed more entertained by Roscoe’s appearance than afraid.
“Ain’t this place somethin’?” Roscoe said, pointing to a seven-foot-tall skeletal effigy in the center of a roundabout.
“It sure is,” I replied, trying not to seem put-off by the haunting atmosphere. “Where are all the supposed werewolves?”
“You don’t smell ’em?”
I glared at Roscoe.
“Really? Most half-turns can at least smell other werewolves.” He scratched the messy mane on top of his head.
“I don’t remember much from when I was half-turn.
Maybe you can only smell werewolves when yer really pent up.
” Roscoe gave me a sniff. “Half-turns give off a skunky smell when they need to be fucked. Sometimes you smell like really dank weed.”
“What?” I sniffed my armpits. “Oh my God, are you for real? Have I stunk this whole time?”
“I just said you smelled good.”
“You said I smelled skunky!” I took off my shirt and held it to my nose but couldn’t smell anything aside from laundry detergent. “Do I need to take more showers?”
Roscoe wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into him. “It’s a good smell, dude. It drives werewolves crazy.”
“Do I stink now?”
He laughed. “Yer fine, jeez.”
I slipped back into my T-shirt. “This is humiliating.”
“Cody, you need to get used to smelling weird, and you can’t do nothin’ about it. It doesn’t get much better when you turn.” He held up an arm and leaned in, nearly engulfing my face in his armpit. I gagged and pushed him away.
“Jesus fuck! When’s the last time you bathed?”
“Swimming in the ocean count?”
“You haven’t been swimming in the ocean in about a week.”
He grinned, exposing a sharp tooth. “Well, there’s yer answer.”
My usual response to him being gross was to shake my head and groan, but I found I’d grown rather numb to it.
“That’s a good werewolf stink.” He stepped closer again. “Admit it. You love it, don’t you?”
When I’d first met Roscoe, I thought he smelled like dumpster juice mixed with wet dog, but there was something going on that I was subconsciously aware of.
Sometime between the night I’d changed and now, I had actually grown comfortable with his smell.
It wasn’t a bouquet of roses by any means, but it kind of calmed me down.
Still, I really wanted him to start bathing more.
“You’re a pig.”
“Would ya look at that,” Roscoe said abruptly, pointing to the group of people on the other side of main street.
There were three younger human men, two women and one half-turn.
He was tall and covered in thicker black body hair.
Like Adam, he had a small tail jutting from the waistband of his sweatpants and the body of a jock. “He looks popular.”
“He doesn’t look like he has a kuu. How’s he just allowed to hang out with humans?”
“This town probably has lots of werewolves at his beck and call. I’m sure he’s doin’ just fine keeping himself in check.”
“We’re just the sluttiest of sluts, aren’t we?”
“Yer not, obviously.”
“I guess I’m just weird then.”
“Being weird ain’t a bad thing, and neither is enjoying great sex with different people.”
“I guess I was just brought up differently. You know, with morals and self-control.”
“And a smug sense of superiority. Don’t forget that.”
I stopped and glared at him, but he just smiled. Every so often he’d hit me with a reality check, and it kind of pissed me off.
Roscoe sniffed the air, his stomach rumbling audibly as the scent of smoked meat wafted on the breeze. Hell, even I was starting to get hungry.
“Ooo,” he said, making a sharp turn toward the origin like one of those cartoon characters smelling a pie on a windowsill.
“We don’t have the money.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Come on. We need to get paint and groceries.”
Roscoe’s ears fell. “We should get to work on that OnlyStans idea.”
“That’s your project, you know.”
“Yeah, but I need yer help, remember? I don’t know nothin’ about computers.” His face brightened for a second. “That reminds me. I was talkin’ to Austin about our little idea—”
“Roscoe, I swear to God!”
“I was gonna talk to you first before agreeing to anything.”
“If you want a three-way, talk to Adam. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy.”
Roscoe folded his arms. “Maybe I will. Yer holier-than-thou-ness.”
“Whatever.” I knew why this pissed me off, but even that annoyed me. I wanted it to be just me and him.
“I know that look.” He gave me a shake, and I shrugged him off. “Yer mad at me again.”
“Yo!” a male voice shouted. Roscoe and I turned to see a fit guy in jogging pants running toward us. He was human, but had different symbols tattooed on both arms, like some kind of Sanskrit surrounded by pentagrams. “New guys!”
“What’s up?” Roscoe said, extending his hand. The man eagerly grabbed it and shook. “Just moved here. The name’s Roscoe. This here’s Cody.”
He turned and grabbed my hand, shaking it more vigorously than he had Roscoe’s.
“I’m Sean.” He paused, the smile on his face widening. “Damn! We don’t see many half-turns. You’re the third one.”
“Fourth,” I corrected. “There’s another one back home.”
His expression became even more ecstatic, which startled me. Human reactions to seeing me were never this pleasant back in the city. Hell, even in White Dunes, people often kept their distance while walking by me on the beach.
“How many werewolves you got living here?” Roscoe asked, turning to look at a group of rowdy wolf-men scarfing down what looked like ribs on picnic tables outside a run-down barbeque restaurant.
“With you, that makes two hundred and forty-three.” He turned toward me again. “What made you guys decide on Norwich?”
“Desperation,” I muttered, catching myself as Roscoe shoved my arm. “And it seemed like a neat place.”
“You guys are gonna love it here. Have you talked to the mayor for your orientation yet?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why would we need to talk to the mayor?”
“I’d keep checking your mail if I were you because it’s the law. Any non-human who moves to this town needs to know the rules.”
Roscoe seemed more taken aback than I was. “Rules? I thought this place was cool.”
“Trust me, Norwich is fucking awesome, but there’s some really sketchy shit that goes on in the woods.” Sean looked around before lowering his voice. “Between us, you guys should check out the mayor’s wife, because holy shit.”
“She a looker?”
I shoved Roscoe hard.
“What? I’m just askin’.”
“Let’s just say… she’ll put a spell on you.
” He flashed his brows. “Once you get your letter, don’t wait too long, because you don’t want the mayor on your doorstep.
A couple moved in a year ago and never went to their orientation.
Ended up disappearing for a week, and after that, they fell in line quick. ”
“O–kay. What the hell did the mayor do to them?” I asked.
The human shrugged. “Don’t let what I said freak you out. The mayor’s great, but he’s a hardass and a stickler for the rules when it comes to werewolves.”
“Pfft. I ain’t never been intimidated by authority. I’ll tell a few dirty jokes with the guy and put a smile on his grumpy face.”
The guy burst into nervous laughter. “I wish you luck, dude. I’ve never seen the guy so much as crack anything more than a frown in public. Mosavi knows how to run a town, but he’s not exactly the baby-kissing type. Anyway, welcome to Norwich. We all just call it Halloween town.”
Roscoe and I shook his hand. “It was nice meetin’ ya, Sean. Maybe I’ll see ya around.”
“Likewise,” he replied, giving us both a wave as he jogged toward the direction we’d just come from.
“That was the most bizarre welcome I’ve ever gotten,” I said, looking around for the hardware store sign. “I’m starting to wonder if there are cameras everywhere, because that sounded kind of cult-like and rehearsed.”
“Hmm,” Roscoe grunted, scratching at his mane again.
“We can always take Darryl up on his offer and move back to White Sands.”
“Nah, this place is gonna be great. You’ll see.” He grabbed my hand. “We already knew about the people before we came. It won’t be so weird once we get to know everyone.”
“I wonder what the sketchy shit is he was talking about in the woods.”
“Yer overthinkin’ again. Remember, you lived in a crack alley in the worst part of the city, and you felt fine enough to take the bus at night. Redneck sketchy isn’t the same as the hood.”
We passed a gnarled tree that closely resembled a monstrous claw with yellow leaves. “I’ve seen redneck, and this is definitely not it. It’s like this place was teleported here from another world. Even the trees look fucked up.”
“I think they look awesome.” Roscoe stopped and began relieving himself on it.
I flushed and scanned our surroundings, moving as fast as I could away from the scene.
“Cody,” Roscoe called after me, but I pretended to ignore him. “Hold up. There’s still a little more.”
I was at full sprint now, shelter from humiliation mere feet away at the store’s entrance. The doors opened automatically, and I slipped inside as Roscoe continued shouting my name.
The hardware store wasn’t as large as the ones in the city, and the shelves weren’t stocked with much. I slowed my pace, reading the signs along the ends of aisles.