Chapter 19 #2
“There ain’t nothing in these woods that can eat you, so chill out. Plus, ferals would rather fuck you than eat you.”
“Depending on the circumstances, that could be worse.” I decided to change the subject. “What about your parents? Do you remember anything that’s not some made-up origin story about the Italian mafia?”
“I didn’t make that up. My grandpa was a big ol’ Sicilian alpha.”
I stopped and folded my arms, and Roscoe turned around.
“All right, I made that up, but it could be true.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me next to him as we continued walking. “I can’t even remember what my parents looked like. I mean, they’re good and dead by now.”
“It’s still kind of sad. I mean, they were your parents.”
“You miss yer parents?”
“Not really,” I said. Sometimes a lie made reality a little less painful.
“They were so strung out on drugs that my grandparents had to take care of me when DCF stepped in. Then they got all weird and mean when they stopped drinking and doing drugs. All they did was just trade one addiction for another, but they’re still terrible people.
” I forced a laugh, trying to silence the painful memories that crept in.
“Who knows? If they saw me with a werewolf old enough to be my grandfather, that could be the final stake through their hearts.”
“Speaking of…”
“Not in the woods.”
“Hey, food ain’t the only thing that draws ‘em out. They get a whiff of us doin’ what we do best, and every feral will come runnin’.”
“We brought food and booze. You’re not going to use my ass as bait.”
“It ain’t that bad. You could handle it easy.”
I shot Roscoe a disgusted look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just sayin’. We could solve two problems at the same time.”
“I don’t have a problem,” I shouted before lowering my voice again. “I’m not letting a bunch of wild werewolves run a train on me, you pervert. Would you really want to see that?”
“Hell, I’d sit back and jerk to it.”
I bit my lower lip again, this time a little more hurt than annoyed.
“Oh, come on, Cody. You gotta loosen up a little. You get real cranky when you try to go against nature.”
“This is not natural, and I’m not some animal.”
Roscoe stopped and set the box down on the ground. “I didn’t say you were.”
“It’s implied, like I’m this insatiable sex addict that can’t control his instincts and is only good at one thing.”
“Cody.” The werewolf pulled me into a hug. “I think you’re like this because yer a little too old to be going through this half-turn stuff, and I don’t know what you need,” he pulled away. “Something’s off about you, but that’s why we’re out here.”
“What if Mosavi was right, and this is dangerous?”
“That guy’s got issues, too. You wanna end up like him?”
“You mean rich, handsome, powerful”—I shot a glare at Roscoe—“and clean? Sounds like a dream.”
“Nah. That ain’t what I see. That guy’s strugglin’ with what he is, and he’s angry that he has to fight it every day. It must be hell forcin’ himself to stay in that human body while keepin’ up appearances he can’t even hold onto for that long without going back into hiding.”
“That reminds me. We saw Austin’s half-turn form. Can you do it too?”
“Yeah, but I ain’t gonna. It hurts like hell, and I’m surprised Austin was able to hold it for that long. The guy’s got a really good pain threshold.” Roscoe rubbed his hands together. “We should probably set up camp here. It’s too dark to look for these guys right now.”
Our drunken laughter echoed through the forest, which was otherwise eerily quiet aside from the crackling fire.
“And that’s not even the funniest part. He kept tryin’ to get with me, but every time I’d kill the mood with another dad joke. I thought he was gonna turn right then and there, the way he bared his teeth and the little bristles on his neck shot up. I think Adam actually wanted to kill me.”
“You do have that effect on people.”
Who’d have thought beer, junk food, and a warm campfire was all we needed to make what should have been an uncomfortable night fun? I leaned into Roscoe with one arm against his thigh, warmth flushing my skin even though the air had a frigid bite to it.
“I’m not gonna lie. As annoying as he is sometimes, I feel bad for him,” I said, a little more serious this time.
“I would have fixed that, but you told me not to do anything.”
“Not that. I definitely didn’t want you doing that. I just feel bad that he and Austin have such a shitty relationship. If Adam found out that the only reason Austin was paying him any attention was because he was under some kind of weird spell and obeying my commands, he’d probably lose it.”
“Once he turns, they might end up leavin’, and we’ll get the house all to ourselves.”
“You sound happy about that.”
Roscoe cocked his head. “Not really, but ain’t that what you wanted?”
I thought about it for a moment. A few weeks ago I would have definitely said yes, but I had grown attached to their mayhem. Plus, I didn’t want Austin to end up alone, and that’s what would likely happen if both he and Adam left.
“It’s kinda weird. Just the thought of them leaving makes me anxious,” I said.
“That’s pack envy.”
“What the hell is that?”
“Another fun werewolf thing,” Roscoe said. “We all get pack envy when we’re livin’ with other werewolves. At first, it’s just a bunch of chaos, and then everyone kinda falls into their roles. I’m obviously the leader everyone looks up to.”
I looked at him and put the bottle of beer to my lips. “You’re very drunk and delusional right now.”
“You guys’d be lost without me.”
“All right. Tell me what the leader does?”
“Easy. The leader keeps his pack fed, gives emotional support, is someone everyone comes to depend on, is responsible—”
Roscoe stopped talking, and I watched his expression go from oblivious to a sudden, uncomfortable realization.
“Go on.”
“Well, fuck,” he muttered, taking another gulp of beer. “Ain’t that a switch?”
“What?”
“Ain’t never seen a half-turn leadin’ a pack before.”
I took another drink. “Even Mosavi figured it out before you did.”
Roscoe reached into the box and pulled out a package of cakes.
“How many of those have you had?”
“Uhh,” he sifted through a few empty wrappers.
“Damn it, we’re not going to have enough to trade if your fat ass keeps eating!”
“But they’re so goooood.”
“Put it back.”
“Yes, alpha Cody,” Roscoe replied sarcastically.
“You know, it’s kinda cringe, but I could get used to everyone calling me that.”
Roscoe belted out a laugh. “The only one that’s gonna do that is probably Austin. Adam would probably punch you in the face.”
“You’re joking, right? Adam is the puniest half-turn I know.”
“He’s the only half-turn you know, and he could take you down with how far along he is.”
“I guess he is getting a little beefier.”
A rustle from the trees all around us stifled our conversation. An occasional shadow shot between the trees, but I couldn’t make out what they were.
“They’re here,” Roscoe whispered. “Hopefully they’re friendly.”
“Well, they seemed friendly last time. I think.”
Despite what I said, Roscoe still seemed uneasy.
“What’s wrong? I thought this was what we wanted.”
More branches snapped, and leaves rustled above us as well.
“They ain’t bein’ friendly right now,” Roscoe whispered, holding me closer to him. “Shit.”
“How do you know?”
“I kinda remember this. It’s to rile up their prey before they attack.”
I swallowed hard. “Goddamn it. Why do I let you talk me into shit like this?”
“Let’s just stay calm and stay low. They want us to start runnin’ so they can chase us, and that’s the last thing we want.
” Roscoe reached into the box and pulled out a bag of unopened white cheddar popcorn, opening it with a shake.
“Peace offering.” As another branch broke, Roscoe wrinkled the bag closed and tossed it in the direction of the commotion.
We both glanced at each other, waiting. Several minutes passed; sweat beaded on my forehead before dripping onto my arms.
A single set of footsteps crunched toward our camp as a large, shadowy figure with glowing red eyes stepped out of the woods.
He cautiously knelt to pick up the bag while keeping a suspicious glare trained on us.
This one wore the same garb as the one from my first encounter but had a shorter mane and no braids.
He also wore a leather harness decorated with raven feathers and bones.
A rope-like belt loosely adorned his waist, two small leather sacks on both sides.
I marveled at how different this werewolf looked compared to what I usually saw. He had a slumped posture and longer arms, but he didn’t have pawed feet like the others did. I opened my mouth to greet him, but Roscoe squeezed my arm.
“Don’t say nothin’. Let ‘em come to us and give us a sniff. We don’t wanna make any weird noises or movements. We gotta submit to them when they get close.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you gotta lay on yer back to show ‘em respect.”
The feral werewolf opened the bag, furiously sniffing the contents.
“What if they kill us?”
“Nah. They’d have done that already.”
The werewolf started grunting something incoherent before grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it into his slobbery maw.
The other werewolves emerged, another four of them.
Two looked older, but it was hard to tell for sure.
Older werewolves weren’t just more masculine—there was something in their eyes that always seemed more attentive.
As the others stepped into the fire’s light, their strange, paw-like feet became visible.
“Oh, we got their attention now. Lay on yer back. Slowly.”
Both of us carefully stretched out along the ground, me squeezing my eyes shut as one stepped closer. His hot breath pulsed against my face and neck as he knelt next to me, his nose probing my body. The rest made their way over, sniffing both of us while making grunting noises at each other.