AgathaHart
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In the Woods Ch 5
🕑 Added 2016-12-07 02:48:12 +0000 UTCMy physical therapist has banned me from using my computer and phone so I can rest my wrist, so I'll be posting in the extremely small window of time I've allowed myself to do stuff on my computer (5min a day).
***
The rain refused to let up. The river in the cavern beneath the cabin had swollen enough that they could hear it rushing by beneath them. Their electricity had never been better, but the satellite dish took enough of a beating that the television and internet were all but abandoned.
The water supply suffered as well, becoming muddier and muddier until they were forced to give up the tap water entirely. They drank bottled water and hung their clothes outside to wash in the rain. Then when the rain let up they’d bring the clothes inside and hang them near the fireplace—which was almost always burning by now, as it was the only way to heat the cabin.
Perhaps because of the dripping laundry and resulting water puddles, none of them noticed the leaky roof at first. Eventually, the leak grew to the point that Jack and Nightlight were forced to climb onto the roof and tie down a patchwork of tarps.
Koz could tell that Katherine would rather Nightlight didn’t, but the young man had grown significantly more coordinated and she had been making an effort to follow Jack’s advice and step back. In the end, Nightlight was perfectly fine. Jack, however, slipped and fell off the roof and managed to break two ribs.
He spent the rest of the day lying in bed grumbling about why werewolf healing powers couldn’t work faster and trying to play off how miserable he was. He failed.
The teens bounced between teasing him and tending to him until finally Koz set them to work making supper while he gave Jack the tender attention the sad little bug needed, bringing him a mug of hot cocoa and the Season 1 Teen Wolf box set. As he settled in beside the young man, Koz pointedly ignored the looks the two teens shot him.
Besides the rain, they also had Jack’s wolf form to contend with. If Katherine was right and their transformed selves acted the way a person truly felt, then Jack was already feeling stir-crazy. He transformed every night leading up to the full moon and was excitable and hyper at the best of times and destructive and irritable at the worst.
Koz only put him outside once before he realized the only thing worse than a hyperactive werewolf was a wet and muddy, hyperactive werewolf. For a few hours each night, he’d simply take refuge by Ombric and his lab equipment—the only safe place—while Jack and the teens romped around the cabin, jumping on and off the bed, running through the hanging laundry, and playing tug of war and fetch with a towel that could only function from now on as a werewolf chew toy.
On occasion, Jack’s energy would change dramatically, shifting from excited to jumpy and anxious. Sometimes he would cower in a corner, refusing to sit or lie down, preferring to stand and whine pathetically. Other times he would try to burrow beneath the blankets, the table, once even Koz’s chair, crying softly and always inconsolable. In the morning when he changed back, he could never say why he’d been so nervous.
The exiles would occasionally remark on feelings of sudden anxiety themselves. Even Koz more than once felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. He was starting to get an idea of why, but kept his thoughts to himself. If he was right, then they were in no danger, but letting them know his suspicions would only deepen their unease.
Finally it was Koz’s turn to change along with Jack. He wished he could have kept his wits about him, or he might have taken note if he felt any strange flashes of anxiety, but he barely remembered anything the next morning.
It was his and Katherine’s turn to wash laundry. The morning found them on the deck, both wearing jackets under their make-shift ponchos, washing their clothes in twin tubs of rain water.
Katherine cleaned the clothing in soapy water before handing them off to Koz. Koz then rinsed these and hung them on the line to drip off the worst of the water before they brought them back inside to dry near the fire.
The door to the cabin was ajar and the clinks and chimes of Ombric’s chemistry set and the aroma of breakfast leaked out onto the deck. Koz tried to ignore his growling stomach. He hadn’t eaten since his turning the previous night and he was starving. He distracted himself from his hunger by chatting with Katherine.
“You didn’t do anything too silly,” Katherine reassured him. “Jack got you to play for a little bit, but you mostly just followed me around while those two went wild.” She nodded back to the cabin where they’d left Nightlight to cheer up a slightly ill Jack by teaching him how to flip a pancake in a pan.
“I hope I didn’t bother you too much,” Koz said, hanging up a pair of trousers.
“You were a little bit whiney.” Katherine said in an apologetic voice. She dunked a jumper in the soapy water, scrubbing it against the side of the tub.
“Sorry,” Koz said.
“It’s not a problem!” Katherine said, handing him the jumper. “It happens usually when you’ve got something weighing on your mind.” She scrubbed a pair of jeans, not looking at him, but obviously expecting him to elaborate.
Koz suppressed a sigh as he finished rinsing the jumper and stood to hang it on the line.
“Are you worried about the lady who was murdered?” Katherine asked innocently.
Koz shook his head. He didn’t like discussing his issues at the best of times and he certainly didn’t like the thought of unloading his problems on a fifteen-year-old. He missed Tooth. But even if she weren’t in contact with North, Sandy, and Bunny, he’d sent her a letter too. As far as Tooth knew, he was dead. And dead people don’t schedule therapy sessions.
“Are you worried about your old hunting friends?”
Koz snapped his head around to look at her. Katherine hardly seemed to notice. She focused on ringing the suds from the trousers. “I worry about my friends in Manny’s pack,” she said quietly. “I worry that something bad might happen to them and I’ll never see them again, and I’m worried that they’ll all hate me for leaving, so even if I see them again, they won’t want anything to do with me.” She glanced Koz’s way. “I’m even worried some of them will see me as an enemy.” She handed him the jeans. He hesitated, wondering if he should quash this line of conversation. He took the article of clothing from her and set to rinsing them out.
“I’m not unfamiliar with such fears,” he admitted. But that wasn’t it. He grappled with whether or not he wanted to share more with her, and then with how much he was willing to share. Finally he spoke: “I had to leave my daughter.” He ignored Katherine’s surprise. “I was worried I might hurt her if I stayed.” He snorted sardonically. “I’m sure that must seem silly to you—Manny was under the impression that we should turn anyone we don’t want to kill—“
“No, I agree with you,” Katherine said, soaking one of Nightlight’s shirts with soapy water. “I wouldn’t have when I was little, just because I was raised as a lycan around other lycans.” Her words began quiet and slow, but picked up speed as she continued. “I saw humans as the enemy then, and didn’t think there was anything wrong with the way we lived. I actually thought my parents were lycans too and a hunter killed them. Things changed after I got older and Ombric explained what really happened to them . . . They were hunters, so Manny order for them to be killed . . . by Ombric.”
Koz lifted his head before he could think better of it. Katherine stopped scrubbing and raised her eyes to him, her expression unreadable. “That was Ombric’s initiation test. He felt so bad about it, he waited until the moon was full before attacking them, just so he wouldn’t remember it. He didn’t know they had a baby.” She shrugged and looked down at her work.
“After he told me that, I started to see how Manny could manipulate others into seeing things his way, and how he’d done it to me too. Then I met Nightlight and he’d lost so much. I realized that my life would’ve been completely different--and probably better--if it weren’t for lycanthropy.” She lifted her gaze once more, looking him squarely in the eye. “I know it probably doesn’t seem like it now, but this way, your daughter has a chance at a safe, normal life. You did the right thing.”
Five simple words, yet they might as well have been a canon ball, they hit Koz so hard. Even Jack hadn’t said so much, only reassured him that he wasn’t a bad person.
Koz looked at the ground, shell-shocked. He was dimly aware of Katherine ducking her head as she finished ringing out the t-shirt. She dropped it into his tub and the slight splash sobered him. “Thank you,” he said.
Katherine smiled uncertainly, a childish awkwardness returning to her face. She obviously didn’t know how big an impact her words had. Koz smiled, trying to express his gratitude when words wouldn’t come. “Thank you,” he said again.
Katherine was blushing by now. “You’re welcome,” she said. She looked to the ground a moment, then suddenly clapped her wet hands on her thighs and stood. “That’s the last of the laundry,” she said, tipping the soapy water over the deck stairs and setting the empty tub down at the bottom-most step. “I’m going to go make sure the boyfriends haven’t set the oven on fire.”
She offered him a last uncertain smile before heading back inside.
Koz sat there, listening to the rain pinging off the bottom of her empty tub, rattling on the trees, and clattering along the tarp over the roof. He felt a great many things, but amazingly, he felt better. He also felt guilty for feeling better, but it was a separate sort of shame from his usual guilt over leaving Seraphina behind. ‘You did the right thing’ was something he would never hear from his hunting companions—or anyone from his old life, but it was enough, better even, to hear it from Katherine, who knew firsthand what Seraphina’s life might have become if Koz had ever turned her.
Koz felt raw, but in a pleasant way. It was peaceful out here, he realized. The rain was oddly relaxing—the perfect sort of weather for a calm day spent doing nothing. The clothes they’d washed hung on a line on either side of the deck ceiling, creating a curtain-like effect that rippled in the soft breeze. Even though he was outside, Koz felt secluded, safe. The sound was intense, but not irksome and the forest smelled like water and earth. The scent of breakfast wafted from cabin’s barely open doorway.
He inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled.
His hand reached into the tub’s chilly water and started rinsing the shirt Katherine had washed. When he was satisfied it was no longer slick with suds, he rang it empty of excess water and hung it to dry. The remaining water was dumped off the side of the porch, the tub set down on the ground next to Katherine’s.
He turned at a soft sound behind him.
Jack stood at the doorway, an uncertain smile on his face that strongly reminded Koz of Katherine. He wondered if she’d told Jack what she’d said. “Breakfast is ready,” he said. His hands were wrapped around a steaming mug. Jack’s lips quirked upward slightly, his smile becoming more sure. The kernel of warmth that had been slowly growing since Jack had arrived in his life burned brighter in his chest. Jack’s moments of confidence were incredibly attractive--he was only beginning to realize how much he loved them.
Koz almost wanted to kiss him.
“I made tea,” Jack said, offering out the steaming mug.
Koz definitely wanted to kiss him.
Then it hit him that Katherine had referred to Jack and Nightlight as ‘the boyfriends’ which meant she thought the two of them were dating and Koz hadn’t even thought to correct her.
“I apologize if this just tastes like leaf water,” Jack said, handing him the mug. “If it does, Katherine will be partly to blame—she’s the one who showed me how to steep it.”
Koz flushed as he brought the mug to his lips, his eyes darting away from Jack’s face. Dating Jack, he thought, wouldn’t be so bad.
*
Samantha Rider’s secret boyfriend, Gregory Keys, was utterly ordinary-looking. And just a little obnoxious. Koz couldn’t help but wonder why she’d gone through so much trouble to continue dating him, but that was neither here nor there.
“Sam’s pastor said I shouldn’t come to the funeral,” Gregory Keys said viciously, standing with his back against his dorm room desk. “He said I’m a Pagan—a Pagan! Do you know what that means? A devil-worshipper!”
If Koz had time, he would’ve pointed out all the things wrong with that statement, but Jack was looking like a wilted flower, leaning heavily against the dorm room’s bunk bed. Koz had tried to get him to stay home—the full moon was only a night away after all. But Jack had insisted. Koz vowed to finish this quickly.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Koz said, trying to keep his face pinched in sympathy. The room stank of weed and unwashed laundry; it would’ve been harder to keep a straight face than it was to look sympathetic.
Greg snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just because they’re out of touch with their ancestral heritage doesn’t mean I should be!”
“Yes . . .” Koz glanced around the dorm room. Just as the Riders had covered their home in religious artifacts, Greg had covered his half of the room in Native American paraphernalia, ranging from jewelry and dream catchers to a war bonnet and a full coyote pelt, the underside painted with flakey colors. Koz figured this was the pelt Eleanor Hammond had mentioned.
“I’m one-eighth Cherokee,” Greg said proudly.
Koz resisted the urge to tell him that was the same proportion of his belongings that were of Cherokee origin. Greg had quite the eclectic collection. Koz’s eyes skimmed over the pelt and paused. He took a step toward the piece and stared hard. It couldn’t be real—they were so rare. But there was the binding spell. His eyes roamed over the pictures painted ages ago on the hide’s surface. To the untrained eye they looked like nothing more than stick-humans and stick-animals dancing around colorful chicken scratch, but even before becoming a hunter, Koz could tell a real from a fake. Jo had dived headfirst into the area’s indigenous folklore. She’d kept him up many a night; research propped up on her swollen belly as she lay beside him and gushed about her passion—including, but not limited to, skin-walker pelts.
“What’s the story with this one?” He asked casually.
“It’s a Cherokee shaman headdress. Sam gave it to me,” Greg said. “She was one-sixteenth Cherokee. It belonged to her family, but they were going to sell it, so she let me have it.”
Either Greg was mistaken or the pelt was stolen—it was definitely a Yoku skin-walker pelt. Eleanor Hammond had been right about that much at least. Koz inhaled and the scent of half-decayed coyote met his sense. Just as Ombric had described. But if this boy didn’t even know the pelt wasn’t Cherokee, could he really know how to perform the ritual to use it?
Koz’s eyes roamed across the other side of the room. It was decorated sparsely. A few supernatural mystery books and vampire novels lined the bookshelf, with no less than ten potted plants stationed here and there and even hanging from the ceiling.
There was a pentagram on the wall made of bent twigs and twine. It was too generic to have much meaning, but Koz asked about it anyway.
“That’s Hank’s,” Greg said. “He’s like an eco-Goth. He’s in some environmental rights group. I think he made it himself.”
There was a click and the dorm room door opened to reveal a sallow-faced boy dressed in all black.
His one visible eye widened to see Jack and Koz there; a long, dark fringe obscured his other eye.
“Hey, Hank,” Greg said. “These are detectives—they’re here about Sam.”
Hank seemed to get over his surprise as he entered the room. “Didn’t the detectives already talk to you?” He asked.
“We’re from the FBI. Just ruling on whether or not this case matches another one across state lines,” Koz said. “I’m Agent Farida, this is my partner—“ Jack looked like he’d vomit if he had to speak for himself. “—Agent Annie. Did you know Miss Rider?”
Hank shrugged. “She really only talked to me to tell me how great God was and how I should come to church with her.” Hank eyed the wooden star. “We carpooled a couple times, she lived really close to the Co-op I’m moving to next year.”
Koz nodded. “Yes, Eleanor Hammond mentioned you used to carpool.”
The name had an instant effect on both boys.
“That girl was psycho,” Greg said. “She saw my shaman headdress and thought we were going to sacrifice her for some satanic ritual or something.”
“She told us we were going to Hell,” Hank added. He rolled his eyes. “She should talk, you should see her house—she just dumps her garbage all over her front lawn! It’s disgusting.”
“Greg said you’re in an environmental rights group,” Koz probed. “Is that what you’re studying?”
Hank shook his head. “I’m in nursing, he’s pre-med.” He jerked his head toward Greg, dark fringe fluttering.
Koz noticed Jack teetering slightly and spoke quickly. “I heard you were at Miss Rider’s house the night she died, Hank?”
“Yeah,” Hank said. “She was alive when I left though. She was super upset ‘cause her priest and that psycho, Eleanor, were threatening to tell her parents that she was a witch. Eleanor even stole the pelt to show them. Sam was really freaked.”
“Hang on,” Koz said. “Eleanor stole the pelt? That pelt?” He gestured to the pelt on the wall. “I thought Sam gave it to you?”
Greg paled, his mouth dropping open a second before he began speaking. “Um . . . well, Sam meant to give it to me, but the night she brought it was when Eleanor freaked out and she ended up keeping it. Then Eleanor took it . . .”
“And you got it back from Eleanor?”
Greg glanced over to Hank. Hank shook his head, tossing his fringe away from his face. “I was picking up trash with the Eco Guard—my group. I went to her house because I knew there was trash all over the lawn. I found the pelt and called Greg. He came and got it while I went back to cleaning.” He shot Greg a dirty look. “I wanted to bury it. It’s an animal’s skin.”
“I’m the one who took it from Eleanor’s yard,” Greg said nervously, ignoring Hank’s jab. “That doesn’t count as stealing does it? I mean, Eleanor stole it first and she just threw it out.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Koz said. “I’m just trying to get a picture of what happened. Hank, when did you find the pelt? Before or after seeing Miss Rider? And what time of day?”
Hank looked a little surprised that Koz was still asking him about the pelt—to him and Greg, Koz’s interest in the pelt must have seemed quite strange. “Um… I saw Sam first. And the time? I don’t know. The sun was starting to go down.”
“Could you be more specific?”
Hank shrugged helplessly. “It was a few days ago. I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”
Well that was terrifically unhelpful. Sunset lasted for hours—and in the same time frame that the coroner believed Miss Rider had died.
Koz turned to Greg, raising an eyebrow and the young man shook his head. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Alright,” Koz said, trying not to let his disappointment show. “So Miss Hammond came over the day before Miss Rider died. She took the pelt to show to Miss Rider’s parents—do you know if she succeeded?”
Greg shook his head. “I don’t know. But if they knew, they hadn’t talked to Sam yet about it. She was still freaking out that Eleanor was going to tell them. She said her parents would kill her if they found out.” His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “I don’t mean—I mean . . . that’s what she said, but I don’t think they’d really do that.” He looked to his roommate. “I mean . . . I wouldn’t think so.”
Koz made a note of the timeline. Eleanor visited and stole the pelt. The next day, the Reverend visited, then Greg, then Sam died. Afterward, Hank and Greg found the pelt in Eleanor’s yard. Eleanor could have used the pelt, but she could also have given it to Mr. and Mrs. Rider and one or both of them could have used it and then thrown it into Eleanor’s garbage afterward. Greg could have done it—even his roommate could have done it, though he had the least amount of motive. The only one who seemed uninvolved with the pelt was Reverend Hammond.
“Uh . . . are you okay?”
Koz lifted his head from his notes to see Hank speaking to Jack. Jack looked . . . bad. Koz closed his notebook and slipped it into his breast pocket. They’d have to call it a day.
“Just . . . a little flu-y,” Jack said weakly.
Greg turned and grabbed something off his desk. He whirled around, wielding a can of Lysol. “I’ve got a unit test in two days, I cannot get sick,” he said, unleashing a spray in Jack’s direction.
“Greg!” Hank squawked.
Koz nearly gagged. The smell of Lysol was bad enough as a human, it was infinitely worse as a werewolf. “We’ll call if we have any more questions,” he wheezed. He took Jack by the elbow and lead him out of the room. Greg followed, sprayed Lysol in their wake while Hank loudly and quite shrilly complained about the effects of aerosols on the environment.
*
Jack wasn’t quite walking straight as they made their way down the dormitory steps. Koz kept a firm grip on his arm, afraid if he let go Jack would go toppling down the stairs.
“Are you going to make it?” Koz asked.
“I can get to the car,” Jack said grimly. True to his word, Jack made it to their parking spot before vomiting on the pavement.
“Shit,” he groaned when he finally stopped heaving. “Should we clean it up or—“
“It’s a college town,” Koz said. “They’re quite used to it.” He helped Jack step around the mess and get into the passenger seat, leaving the door open just in case. He went around the other side and got in the driver’s seat. Jack just sat there, face white and breathing heavy.
Koz pulled a mashed up box of tissues from the glove compartment and offered one to Jack. “Do you want to get going or do you want to wait a moment?”
Jack swallowed, eyes closed. He held up a finger. “Wait,” he croaked. He took the Kleenex with shaking hands and wiped his mouth with a grimace. He waved a hand weakly. “Sort of blacked out there,” he slurred. “What are you thinking?”
“That we should get you home.”
Jack’s eyes opened. “I’ll throw up if you start driving,” he said. “Please talk about something else.”
Koz huffed, but obeyed none-the-less. “The coyote pelt on the wall is a magical artifact used for skin-walking. I think our culprit might’ve used it to transform and pull off the murder. It wouldn’t be necessary to summon the Black Dog--but it would ensure that no one would see a human coming and going from the scene.”
“So the boyfriend did it. It’s always the boyfriend, isn’t it?”
Koz sighed. “Sam’s parents owned the pelt so they’re not quite in the clear. Eleanor knew about it and knew it was connected to magic. Obviously the two boys have the easiest access, but Hank, the eco-fan wouldn’t touch it and Greg didn’t even know it wasn’t Cherokee, I doubt he’d know the ritual to use it. But there’s always the chance that one or more people are lying. For example: Eleanor didn’t say anything about stealing the pelt.”
Koz sighed and tapped his fingers on his leg. “We need to find someone who knew about the pelt, knew how to use it, had access to it, and had a motive to kill Miss Rider. And they would also need to know how to summon a Black Dog and have a motive to do so.
Jack shifted suddenly, leaning out of the car, he wretched.
With a frustrated sigh, Koz pushed his musings aside. Tomorrow was the first night of the full moon. They wouldn’t be investigating anything for the next three days at least.
Jack slumped back in his seat, sniffing. He offered Koz a shaky thumbs-up. “Ready to go home now,” he said.
Koz nodded and turned the engine over. “If you feel like you’re going to be sick again,” he said, “please let me know.”
*
Jack was miserably ill when the day of the full moon dawned, but unlike normal sick people who just want to stay in bed, Jack wanted to be sick and in the thick of things. Unfortunately, Koz was developing a bad habit: more and more often he gave in to Jack’s requests, even when he disagreed with them. So, when Jack insisted he tag along while Koz ran errands, he couldn’t turn him away. At least Jack seemed to have a high tolerance for discomfort . . . which was disconcerting.
Koz justified it by thinking that this was just to ensure wolf-Jack didn’t destroy the cabin in a fit of restlessness. None of them were planning on leaving the cabin for the next few days, so he might as well take Jack out for some last minute supplies and—for Jack—a vanilla milkshake.
That milkshake seemed far and away by the time afternoon arrived.
Koz was about to call it quits on his shoes. This was the fifth time his loafers had gotten stuck in the mud. Jack had already stripped off his shoes and socks and rolled up his slacks. Koz was reminded that the young man had been lost in the woods barefoot for the better part of a month: his feet were probably nothing but calluses. Koz had no such luck, but frustration was pushing him to abandon his shoes as well.
“What happened to you two?”
Koz looked up to see Katherine walking toward them. Like Jack, she’d gone barefoot, but unlike him, she was dressed for the weather, wearing a thick sweater under her homemade poncho. Nightlight appeared behind her, similarly dressed.
“We lost the car,” Jack said, flicking wet bangs from his face.
‘How?’ Nightlight signed.
“Mud goblin,” Jack said.
The two teens’ eyes widened. As one they looked to Koz for confirmation.
Koz sighed, almost too tired and frustrated to do this. He shook his head. “Bloody bastards,” he said. “Harmless, but they love to cause trouble.”
Katherine and Nightlight both glanced around the wet ground uncertainly.
Koz looked across at Jack to see him shoot Koz a tired, appreciative grin. It lifted Koz’s spirits somewhat.
Mud goblins was a much more impressive story than that the car had simply gotten stuck. After taking several turns pushing, pushing together, or hitting the gas pedal, the two of them certainly looked muddy and exhausted enough to make a goblin attack sound feasible.
“I suppose we should start walking then?” Katherine asked.
Koz nodded. “Better safe than sorry.”
The teen’s map had led them farther and farther from the cabin, so Koz and Jack had dropped them off that morning—following the very path that Katherine had been mapping.
Now Koz was more than a little anxious that they wouldn’t make it home before nightfall. He wouldn’t have left that morning but they’d needed more food. The only good news was that Koz had been paranoid enough about the impending full moon that he’d insisted on an early start.
He was glad that they’d mostly gotten snack foods in preparation for the three days of illness coming for them; they at least were thoroughly wrapped and wouldn’t get wet.
Koz handed off one of his grocery bags to Nightlight while Katherine hunched over her map, shielding the pages from the rain with her body. After consulting the map, she lead the way toward the cabin.
After three days, the weather had successfully stripped most trees bare of their leaves, so the ground was half mud, half soggy dead leaves, with the occasional sharp stone or twig.
Every now and then someone would step on one of these with their bare feet and let out a yelp of profanity. If Koz were being a good adult, he might’ve put a stop to the foul language Katherine and Jack were using, but the third time he jabbed the bottom of his foot with a tree branch, he decided he didn’t care about being an adult.
The terrain was remarkably flat—but then Katherine had been including that in her calculations. It was a good thing too. They passed by the base of a hill and trudged through ankle-deep water rushing onward toward what was once a shallow wadi, but was now a small river.
“How was your day?” Jack asked in a mockingly cheerful tone.
Nightlight let out a heavy sigh by way of answer.
“Wet,” Katherine said. “I’m almost excited for the full moon. At least we can stay inside.”
Koz raised an eyebrow. “Does it get better over time? I can’t imagine looking forward to it.”
Katherine chuckled with an uncharacteristic darkness. “Yes, I’ve discussed this with the other girls in the troupe and we came to the conclusion that men are weak.”
The three boys fell silent, waiting to see if anyone of them would or could contest this. The silence stretched on and on until Nightlight started giggling—which just set Jack off. Soon all three of them were snickering like children with Katherine holding her head high, the smugness in her expression dampened by her barely contained laughter.
“Anyway—“ Koz started, which just set off Jack and Nightlight again. “Anyway,” he chuckled. “How good do you think our chances are that Ombric will have supper waiting for us?”
“Ombric gets pretty focused on his work,” Katherine said. “I’d say our chances are fifty-fifty.”
“At least if we get hungry, we have plenty of snacks to eat,” Jack said.
Katherine laughed. “And plenty of water!”
They carried on, throwing out jokes or curse words as they went. It was getting steadily darker, but the sky was so overcast that the only way they knew the sun hadn’t set was because none of them had transformed. But they were definitely getting close.
Jack grew quieter and quieter and his steps less and less steady. Finally he resorted to leaning on Koz as he walked. Koz would’ve offered to carry him, but he was feeling the night’s effects as well. His strength was dwindling, his neck was dual parts horrendously itchy and so achy, he could hardly keep his head up.
Jack slipped on the slick ground and grabbed Koz’s arm. Koz just barely managed to keep his knees from buckling.
It was like being drunk, but it wasn’t fun in the slightest.
In an instant, a warm hand clasped his and he looked up blearily at Katherine’s concerned face. She gently took the grocery bag he was carrying, while Nightlight crept up beside him and wordlessly put Koz’s arm over his shoulder, giving Katherine a look. She nodded and went over to Jack’s other side and put his arm around her shoulders so the four of them formed a chain.
“It’s not much farther,” she said as they started off again.
Koz felt an odd mix of humbled and touched.
Nightlight helped him maneuver around a slick patch of mud. “Thank you,” he said.
Nightlight’s hands were occupied holding the groceries or else keeping a firm grip on the back of Koz’s shirt so he wouldn’t topple into Jack. Instead of signing, the boy just smiled. Koz felt a flutter of fondness for the both of them. Much as he tried to maintain his distance, the exiles were growing on him.
He started at a sudden flash of light. For a moment, Koz thought it was lightning, but it came from the ground. Katherine froze and their little chain slowed to a stop. “Someone’s there,” she said quietly.
The light flashed their way and Koz’s heart pounded. Was it a human? They were so close to the full moon!
Then a voice cried out: “Oh, thank goodness!”
The group all started in surprise and sagged with relief in nearly comedic unison.
Ombric came hobbling toward them, flashlight in hand and a trashbag artlessly draped over himself like an old woman’s shawl. “I thought maybe the car got stuck,” he croaked, “but I got so worried!”
“We’re fine, Ombric!” Katherine reassured him, unable to hide her relief.
Ombric let out a huff and started leading them toward the cabin, glancing back at them occasionally. “Next time, I don’t want any of you leaving on First Moon Day. Look at you! I’m sorry, Jack, and you too, Koz, I should’ve insisted on you staying—especially with the weather this bad!” And so on, until they reached the cabin.
Koz hadn’t realized how cold he was until he stepped inside the building and his skin prickled from the heat.
He dropped his shoes and socks by the door and hobbled toward the fire, towing Jack and Nightlight after him.
“Hurry up now,” Ombric scolded. “All of you get in dry clothes before you sit down.”
“I call the bathroom,” Katherine said, hauling Jack (and the rest of them after her) to the fire before she hurried to where the exiles had piled their belongings. Her actions were quick and jerky as she shivered, ducking into the bathroom with the swiftness of a deer.
Koz settled by the fire with the other two, too tired to care that he was soaking the floor.
The cabin smelled delicious. Ombric opened the oven and hauled out a casserole pan. “I turned off the oven before I left so this isn’t quite hot anymore but—“
‘Don’t care!’ Nightlight signed.
“Food.” Jack sat up stiffly, unintentionally reminding Koz very much of a zombie.
The bathroom door opened to reveal Katherine hastily hauling a sweater over her front. “I heard there’s food?”
Ombric had baked chicken and elbow macaroni in red sauce. It was not exactly elegant, but it was marginally warm, and it was food, so it was delicious. They polished off the whole pan. No sooner had Ombric set it in the sink to soak than Katherine excused herself and ducked into the bathroom once more. Nightlight scurried to the cabin door and kicked away the doorstop.
Jack—who had been leaning against Koz sleepily—suddenly seemed to remember what was going to happen. He shifted and began to strip without moving his achy joints too much. Koz followed suit.
He heard a belt buckle hit the floor and the thumping of clothing getting tossed in a corner. He was aware of the others stripping down around him, but felt a strange lack of embarrassment. He was glad Katherine had left though. He would definitely have felt weird stripping down in the presence of a fifteen-year-old girl.
Then the sun set and all thought vanished. Transforming under a full moon was not like changing normally. His consciousness didn’t take a back seat as his body changed and intelligence became too slippery a thing to keep hold of—under the full moon, one moment he was Koz and the next he was not.
***
Jack woke to Ombric crying out, “Avert your eyes, Katherine!”
Jack groaned. His whole body ached, he was starving, and he was in a room full of naked people. ‘This is as close as I’m ever going to get to having an orgy,’ he thought bemusedly, ‘but Ombric’s here.’
The thought sobered him into wakefulness, but he didn’t yet open his eyes.
“Avert--” Ombric started again.
“Ombric, please, we do this every month.”
“Didn’t Manny used to walk around naked anyway?” Koz spoke and that had Jack opening his eyes.
Jack was laying on his side on one half of the bed while Koz lay on the other. He was looking out the window, morning light highlighting the line of his neck and the smooth curve of his chest and abdomen. He’d pulled the blanket over his lap and Jack found himself weirdly disappointed.
“The Czar didn’t like to shred his clothing. He wasn’t naked all the time,” Ombric said.
Jack was distracted by the line of hair on Koz’s stomach leading down to--
Koz shot him a look that said he knew exactly what Jack was thinking. Nightlight giggled and Jack quickly looked down and saw Nightlight lying belly-down on the floor, grinning up at him with a knowing look on his face, as if his milk-white ass wasn’t exposed to the whole world.
Ombric turned on him, his gnarled hands over his eyes. “Nightlight, are you peeping?”
Katherine stalked past them and without thinking Jack looked at her, then quickly away again. Except for a pile of clothes held over her crotch, she too was quite naked. “Honestly,” she said, “I don’t think Manny cared half as much about saving his clothes as he liked to show off his huge--”
“Katherine!” Ombric shrieked.
“Ego.” Katherine finished as she closed the bathroom door behind her. “I was going to say ‘ego’.”
Katherine hadn’t been kidding with the ‘men are weak’ crack. Either she wasn’t suffering as much as the rest of them, or she was simply better at handling it and Jack was willing to bet it was the latter. She popped two ibuprofen, a tums, and a big glass of orange juice before the four of them had hardly gotten dressed. She whipped out a package of adhesive heating pads and slapped them on the backs of her knees and the insides of her elbows. She tossed the rest of the package in their general direction and got to work on their breakfast. In a moment, thick slices of ham were sizzling in a pan on the stove, filling the cabin with a delicious aroma.
Jack tried, he really did, but his limbs felt like lead and his movements were clumsy. He managed to pull on his boxers and then he flopped boneless back on the bed. Koz did just a little better, putting on pants and a shirt before he sat heavily at Jack’s side. Ombric and Nightlight managed to get up and stay up, bringing the coffee maker over to the bed, along with milk and creamer.
Katherine cooked up some eggs to go with their ham while Koz helped Jack put heating pads on his joints.
Jack felt simultaneously extremely hungry and extremely nauseous. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again he’d somehow gotten under a blanket. The Teen Wolf DVD menu was playing and Katherine was handing Ombric a plate loaded with eggs, ham, strawberries, and toast.
Jack sat up just as Koz did the same. Nightlight snickered and passed each of them a cup of coffee.
Only once everyone had their plates and the sleeping area had been thoroughly surrounded by dry food stuffs and medicine, did Katherine finally sit down. The soft groan she let out as she sank into her spot was the only indication she’d given all morning that she was suffering along with them.
After they sat down, none of them got up again except for the occasional bathroom break. They were all sick as dogs and the discomfort only grew as night drew closer, but they managed to get through the first half of the first season of Teen Wolf.
“Just think,” Katherine said as evening fell. “It could be so much worse—we could transform and have ugly eyebrows and huge sideburns.”
*
The temperature dropped that night and when they woke the next morning, it was in a very, very awkward pile.
Jack blinked sleepily as a slow smile spread across his face while Koz’s stomach coiled in dread. “So . . .” Jack said. “How did you sleep?”
“Whose butt is touching my butt?” Katherine said, sitting up behind Koz.
A flush burst across Koz’s face. “Mine . . .” He said weakly as Jack cackled.
There was a sudden thump and Nightlight rolled away from Katherine’s other side.
“Nightlight, where are you?”
Jack’s face paled. “If Nightlight’s over there, whose butt is touching my butt?”
Ombric sat up behind him. Now it was Jack’s turn to blanch while Koz snickered.
“Somehow I always thought waking up with a bunch of naked people would be a lot sexier than this,” Jack grumbled.
“At least you don’t have to feel like a dirty old man,” Koz said.
Katherine snorted as Nightlight rolled back toward her, smiling and looking at the ceiling as he offered her one of his t-shirts.
“If I get pregnant, I expect you to take responsibility,” Katherine teased as she pulled the shirt on, completely oblivious to the numerous, vivid colors parading across Koz’s face. Even Jack felt a little queasy. Could that sort of thing happen when they blacked out?
“Don’t worry Koz,” Ombric said, waving a hand dismissively. “That sort of thing could never happen—“
“Oh God, they don’t know,” Katherine whispered. “They haven’t noticed . . .”
“You see,” Ombric continued, “when we transform—“
“Here it comes.”
“We lose all sexual characteristics!”
***
The last night of the full moon came and went, leaving a heavy frost. They all awoke in a pile once more, the room freezing cold.
After a weak breakfast, Koz eased Jack up onto the bed and wrapped him up in a blanket. Jack was still suffering the effects of the change worse than the rest of them, so Koz prepared him a slice of toast while the young man lay on the bed, thoroughly bundled up. Koz brought him the toast along with a glass of apple juice and started as the scent of anxiety met his senses.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, setting the glass and plate down on the floor. “Do you need a bucket?”
Jack wordlessly pointed to the window, his face pale. Koz looked and saw nothing at first. The iron bars? The glass? The window pane was lined with frost left over from the night before, leafy patterns swirled across the glass interrupted by . . . a handprint.
Koz reached under the mattress and grabbed the handgun hidden there. He stood up and peered through the window, looking for anything that didn’t belong.
“What’s wrong?” Ombric asked.
“We’ve had a guest,” Koz said, stalking to the other window and peering out. Still, he saw nothing. He could smell the others’ unease.
“The Black Dog?” Katherine asked.
“No . . .” Koz said, mind racing. What if a human had discovered them? Could some well-meaning park ranger be on his way here to free a bunch of wolves trapped in a cabin? Or worse—what if North or Bunny were coming?
Koz grabbed the cane they kept by the door to open it. They couldn’t touch the doorknob directly when it was closed and the mountain ash circle was complete—but they could touch it indirectly. Koz cracked the door open and then tossed the cane aside.
He stepped out the door, gun drawn. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than a familiar stench met his senses.
He raised his weapon, checking both sides of the deck before he ventured farther out. He sniffed, eyeing the tree line.
“Koz?” Katherine called uncertainly.
Koz stepped back into the cabin and closed the door. He looked back to the Jack on the bed. Jack’s eyes were questioning. One look at Koz’s face seemed to confirm his suspicions; his face grew paler. “It can’t get in,” Koz reassured him. “The mountain ash keeps it out.”
“Keeps what out?” Katherine asked.
Koz turned to the exiles and saw the three of them watching him uneasily. ‘What was that smell?’ Nightlight signed.
Koz put the safety back on his weapon. “That,” he said. “Was the Thing in the Trees.”
*
It wasn’t until they’d put a whole week between them and the full moon that Koz allowed them all outside again. This was in part because he and Jack were still transforming at night, and partly because the Thing in the Trees had all of them spooked.
After confirming that none of the exiles could identify the creature’s scent, Koz gave them an order:
“From now on,” he said. “I don’t want anyone outside alone. No going out at night or in the late evening until I find this thing.”
“What about the RV trail?” Katherine asked.
“Until I know whether or not this thing is a threat to us, the trail will have to wait.”
The temperature had finally dropped far enough that most mornings found the puddles of leftover rainwater completely frozen. The afternoons were overcast, occasionally opening up to drop frozen rain on them. Still, it was dry enough that Koz, Jack, Nightlight, and Katherine could go out and dig the car out of the mud.
The ground was hard and frozen, much easier to drive on than slick mud, but it still took the better part of the day to dig the car’s wheels free. When it was finally out, the four wolves gratefully hopped in the car, their faces and hands flushed with cold. Koz turned on the car’s heat and they took a moment to rest and warm themselves.
They’d just formed a tentative plan to drive to the RV trail and work on it during the daytime with all of them there watching over one another, when Koz’s phone rang.
“Agent Farida,” Koz said as he put the phone to his ear. The three passengers fell silent as he listened to the other end of the line. For a moment, his jaw slackened as his expression slipped into shock. In the next moment, he was back to normal. “Thank you,” he said, “I’ll be there in two hours.” He hung up and let out a long breath, looking almost irritated.
“Is it the Black Dog?” Jack asked.
Koz shook his head. “They’ve just found Eleanor Hammond’s body. Her heart was removed.”
Jack paled. “Oh.”
Koz tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. If he took the teens home they’d lose valuable time—they still had to get their disguises before they could go to the scene all the way in Claussen!
He looked up at the grey sky. There was no guarantee that it wouldn’t rain later, and if it did, he’d lose the trail and be set back to interviewing witnesses. He’d already gone and made an assumption about the situation being less dire that it was and now another girl had died. Besides which, if the hearts were being taken to summon a Black Dog, then that would mean the body count would only grow from here on.
“All right you lot,” he said, turning the engine over. “We’re going on a little field trip.”
