Chapter 26
Halloween — Part One
“Thanks for walking me,” Austin said, his eyes baby blue and somehow ever more devoid of emotion. The collar he wore was one of those thicker, studded ones often seen on Dobermans; the leash I led him with was hot pink.
“Where do you need to go next?” I asked, ignoring the weird stares from passersby.
“I’m good. Let’s go home. Gotta get to work.”
“What are you working on now?”
“A house. Wanna put something nice in the backyard.”
“You—you want a doghouse?”
“Sure do. I bet you could teach me all kinds of tricks.”
“Austin, you’re not a dog.”
He stopped and got on both knees, laying his head against my stomach as he looked up at me with those sad eyes.
“Come on, man. Everyone’s looking at us.”
“I wanna be your loyal, obedient dog, Cody.”
“Oh God!” I jerked awake and sat up in bed next to Roscoe. The dreams I’d been having lately kept getting more bizarre and awkward. While the vironoct may have been good for Austin’s mental health, it was driving me to the brink.
I rubbed my eyes and pushed away the blanket before scooting toward the end of the bed. While keeping as quiet as I could, I tiptoed out into the hallway. Deep snoring vibrated the walls in surround sound as I made my way through the house, Austin in bed with Adam and Darryl on the couch.
I’d offered to sleep in the living room and let him and Roscoe sort things out in our bed, but he insisted he didn’t want to put me out. The guy barely fit, his legs hanging off the arm of the sofa and his arm dragging on the floor, half of his body teetering over the edge.
I knelt next to him and lightly shook him awake.
“Darryl, go sleep in my bed,” I whispered. “You’re gonna break the couch.”
The huge werewolf sat up, the sofa complaining under his weight as he rubbed the gunk from the corners of his eyes.
“What are you doing up?”
“Trust me, I don’t wanna be.”
“Want a swimming lesson?” he whispered in a slurred voice, his eyes half open. Even when tired, it was all werewolves thought about.
“Darryl.” I shoved him and sat back against the cushions. “Happy Halloween, by the way.”
“Can’t believe the luck. It’s a full moon, too.”
“What did you bring for the costume party?”
Darryl stood up and stretched. “Oh, you’re gonna love this.”
He unzipped his large duffel bag and fished around before pulling out a smooth, gray sheet of fabric. After he firmly shook away the creases, he slipped it over his head and pulled it about halfway down.
“What do you think?” he asked.
It was the cutest shark costume I’d ever seen.
The head was like a hoodie with spaced rows of little plastic pointed teeth and large eyes with big, black pupils.
Darryl poked his head out from the mouth; the rest of the costume covered him like a snug-fitting armless jacket.
It even had a long shark tail with enough space for the werewolf to tuck his own tail into.
“I honestly was not expecting it to be this adorable.”
“Right? A surfer buddy’s wife made it custom for me. What are you gonna wear?”
“I don’t know. Roscoe said he wanted to go with a theme, so I’m leaving it up to him.”
“You sure you wanna do that?” Darryl slipped out of his shark costume, folding it neatly before stuffing it back into his bag.
“Well, I was sure at first, but you just made me concerned.’”
“Roscoe’s themes are always… interesting. He really likes to get into character, too.”
“Of course I should know this by now.”
“It actually turned into a fun tradition. Roscoe would dress up as something elaborate, get piss drunk and get into character. I remember one time, the host of the party bent over to grab something out of the cooler and he shouted ‘this is Sparta’ before kicking him head-first into the pool.” Darryl rubbed his chin.
“He did that about three times before people got fed up with his shit and booted him out.”
“Oh God,” I muttered under my breath. “At least he won’t be drunk.”
“Sounds boring, though.” He folded his arms. “Maybe I should have a little one-on-one with Darius.”
“I’m trying to keep the peace, so I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to keep you locked away,” Darryl said, sitting back on the couch. “That’s what he tried to do to me. Indoctrinate me into his cult of stuffy creeps.”
“Well, he probably wanted to do that to me, too, but his wife keeps him in check.”
“We’re pretty rare, Cody. All werewolves have small amounts of the vironoct, but only a few can tap into it like we can. A huge sign is usually when a half-turn shifts later in life, or that’s what I’m told. It’s why I kinda knew about you.”
“I remember you telling me you were a late bloomer.”
Darryl nodded. “Yeah, but when Darius found me, I had to lie low. I can’t prove it, but I think he’s the reason the organization never found me.
I remember he was angry with me when I turned him down, but he also left me alone.
That was about the time I met Roscoe. Say what you will about the guy, but he knows things that he has no business knowing. ”
“I think I know what you mean.”
“I don’t know whether the guy plays dumb, or if he really can’t remember certain things, but he has this innate sense I can’t figure out. Like, he’s really wise, but he’s also an idiot.” He eyed me and smirked. “Confused yet?”
“Not really.” I stood and headed into the hallway. “I’ll be right back.”
I tiptoed into the room and opened our top drawer before pulling out a leather sack one of the feral werewolves had traded us that night we were in the woods. I crept back out and gently shut the door behind me, then also shut Adam and Austin’s door for good measure.
“Here,” I said, tossing the bag onto Darryl’s lap. “He knew what this was, and a lot of other stuff. I think Roscoe used to be feral, and Mosavi seems sure of it.”
He opened the bag and pulled out a pinch of herb. “What the hell is this?”
“Some kind of psychedelic the ferals use. Roscoe and I got high off it that night, but while we were using it, we could understand what they were saying.”
“Cody,” he said, dropping the herb into the bag. “You can’t go out into the woods like that, dude.”
“I know that now.”
“Roscoe should have known better, but he probably just wanted to get high.” He eyed the bag. “So, uh… what’s it like?”
“Incredible,” I said, sitting down, scooting up next to Darryl in anticipation. “Roscoe and I use it sometimes when we’re fucking, and oh my God, it enhances everything.”
Darryl glanced toward the hallway.
“Can it help you get to sleep?”
“If I smoke it, yeah, but the high lasts longer. It sucks to use in the house, so Roscoe and I usually smoke it next to the fire. The last time we did it in the house, that ugly couch in our bedroom started chasing me.” I grinned mischievously. “Wanna get high?”
Darryl scrambled to his feet. “I’ll race ya outside.”
The morning birds echoed through the woods as dawn painted the sky an orangey-blue.
Darryl and I lay next to each other on the grass, having spent most of the night tripping.
We had also done a little more than talk, but I didn’t really feel weird about it.
It was less like a gross one-night stand and more like spending a really nice evening with a good friend who really knew how to fuck.
“That was incredible,” Darryl mumbled in a nasal tone, still not able to move much. “These butterflies won’t leave me alone.”
I turned toward him. “Are you still high?”
“I may have taken a little too much.” He sneezed. “Ugh, I feel like my head is full of snot.”
“Yeah, that happens to Roscoe, too.”
He sneezed again, and the back door opened. I slowly turned to watch as a smirking Roscoe stepped outside.
“I knew I heard something last night,” he said, walking over to us and picking up the sack of herbs.
“Goddamn Roscoe, your head is huge,” Darryl said, still lying flat on his back. “You look like a Funko pop. Dude, are those nipples?”
“Still high, huh?”
Darryl sneezed again and groaned, closing his eyes.
“What’chu guys want fer breakfast?” Roscoe asked, giving me an unusual look as I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “Got lots of eggs. One of the guys at the end of the street raises chickens.” His stomach gurgled. “Man, I’d love to raise some chickens.”
“You’d raise chickens?” I asked.
“Nah, I’d end up eatin’ ‘em before they’d lay any eggs,” Roscoe said with a laugh. “But I am thinkin’ about it.”
“The answer’s no. I’d be the one taking care of them.”
“But think of all the eggs!”
I stumbled to my feet and reached for Darryl’s hand, but he brushed me away.
“I’m gonna lay here for a little while longer. I feel nauseous.”
“Are you going to be okay?” I let out a stifled laugh as Darryl swatted at something invisible before closing his eyes again.
“If this shit ever wears off.”
“I’ll get ya some hair of the dog,” Roscoe said as he stepped into the house.
I ran in behind him and closed the back door. “We don’t have any gin.”
“Don’t need any for my recipe.”
I followed him into the kitchen, and he reached into the cabinet for a lowball glass before gathering a bunch of different ingredients in bottles.
“Is that the ghost pepper sauce you tricked Adam into eating?”
Roscoe didn’t say anything as he squeezed a fresh lemon into the glass before dumping in a tablespoon of the hot sauce.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Huh?” His smile seemed forced. “Nothin’s wrong.” He reached into the fridge for a couple of eggs before cracking them into the glass.
“God, Roscoe, that looks really gross.”
“Yeah, but it’ll work,” he said, scooping some horseradish sauce into the cup with finely grated ginger.
“You’re going to kill him.”
“Nah, he’ll love it.” Roscoe cracked open a can of vegetable juice and poured it in before stirring vigorously. “Now for the hair of the dog.” Roscoe pulled some loose fur from his armpit and sprinkled it on top.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“It works, I swear!” He trotted out of the kitchen and made his way down the hall, his tail wagging.