Girls That Growl (16 page)

Does one shake hands with a werewolf? Or do they, I don't know, sniff butts to get to know one another? Ew, I so don't want to go there. I decide to try the handshake. Luckily Lupine shakes back, making no sudden move for my ass. "So you're wolves, but you live in town as men?" I query. I've got to warm them up a bit before I tell them what I really want.

"Of course. Don't believe the stories you read in horror novels,miss. Most Lycans are prominent members of their communities. We can control our shape-shift and are completely in control of our actions when in feral form."

I think back to the cheerleaders and the havoc they wreaked on my town. Definitely not exhibiting the control thing there.

"What about during the full moon? Don't you go all crazy then?"

The men laugh. "Only the newbies," they explain. "And we keep them under lock and key until we can train them to control their instincts."

"The full moon is an easy pull to resist, once you've had some training," Lupine explains. "It's the desire to mate that can bring out your inner wolf, even in the most disciplined among us." He gestures to a man at the back of the bar. "For example, look at John over there. He's starting to change right now, just from looking at you."

I glance over at John, who's standing behind the others. He's sprouted some gray hair on his chest and white fur is sticking out of his ears. I watch, fascinated, as his nose seems to elongate like Pinocchio's, right before my eyes.

His face turns crimson as he realizes we're all staring at him. "Uh, I've, uh, got to go see a man about a dog," he mut-ters, turning and fleeing the bar.

The men break out into laughter, slapping each other on the back.

"John's always been a bit of a lady's wolf," Lupine says with a chuckle.

"So he . . . ?"

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"Yes, lass. Basically, you see, when we get horny, we get, well, hairy!"

Um,ewh . I wonder what the womenfolk think of that. Though, I guess they're probably in the same fuzzy boat. Of course, this would mean it's a lot harder to hide the fact that your partner just isn't doing it for you anymore.

Sorry, dear, I just can't seem to get hairy tonight.

Don't worry, dear. It happens to all wolves once in a while.

One of the men leans in to sniff me. (No, not my butt, thank goodness.) "You're not human yourself, lass," he pro-claims. "Your blood smells funny."

Now it's my turn to blush. Should I tell them the truth? I guess it's okay. After all, these guys just admitted they regularly howl at the moon. A little fang will seem like nothing to them.

"I'm a vampire," I confess. "Just turned last spring."

They look at me, wide-eyed and interested. "A vampire, eh?" says one. "I've never met a real one before."

"Do you sleep in a coffin?"

I laugh. "No, I have a room at Appleby Manor."

"Can you not see your own reflection?"

"Do you think my hair would look this good if I couldn't?"

“What about crosses? Do they burn you like fire?"

"Totally. And I'm really grossed out by garlic. But I never liked that before my conversion either, so no big loss."

"Do you die if someone stakes you through the heart?"

I groan. "Jeez, guys, give it a rest. I'm a vampire, not a freak show. And besides, you guys are werewolves. Do silver bullets work? Do you howl at the moon? Is the
American Werewolf in London
based on any of your kin?"

They laugh and slap me on the back. "Touché, vampire lass," one says. "Touché."

"So one more question," says Lupine. "Why is a Yank vampire like you looking for Lycans in our humble bar?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked," I say. "Do you remember a group of American girls coming this way last summer? They would have been here for some cheerleading competition."

The men groan in sync. "Can't forget them," says one. "Meears wereringin ' from the blasted noise they made for near three weeks after they left."

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I laugh. "Yup, that would be them," I say. "Well, they're nowback in Massachusetts, of course, but they've. . . changed."

"What do you mean?"

"Um, simply put, I think they're werewolves."

The men erupt in concerned murmurs. I wait patiently, lighting another cigarette.

Finally Lupine speaks. "That's impossible," he says.

I shrug. "Impossible or not, I'm telling you the truth. And this is the one place where they could have become infected."

"But we haven't turned a wolf in more than five hundred years," Lupine says. "Bringing in new mouths to feed would be counterproductive. It would destroy the pack. The only way you can enter the Order of the Gray Wolf is to be born into it."

I scratch my head. That doesn't make any sense. If they don't turn people into werewolves, how was the squad in-fected?

"Is there any way there could be someone outside your pack who could have done an unauthorized bite or some-thing?"

The men talk amongst themselves again. "What about the Lone Wolf?" I hear one ask.

"The what?"

"There was a boy who challenged Lupine, our alpha," the man explains. "He had delusions of grandeur.

Decided he wanted to take over the pack. Of course he was defeated." The men all look gratefully at Lupine, who I imagine was the one who kicked this guy's ass. "And sent away, tail between his legs."

"But as he left, he vowed revenge. Said he would start his own pack and eventually destroy us."

"Perhaps he found your girls and decided to make them his mates."

Lupine squeezes his hands into fists. "I knew I should not have let him leave alive."

I'm beginning to get a sick, excited feeling in my stomach. "That's got to be it. He must have somehow bitten all the cheerleaders while they were here for their tournament."

"Kiss 'em is all he'd have to do," explains a bearded guy in the front. "Lycanthropy is spread through saliva."

I remember Shantel talking about the party they all went to. How they got so drunk they didn't remember how they got home.

"But why wouldn't he keep them here in England? Why let them go back to America?"

"He's weak. Not born to be an alpha. He may have not been able to stop them. But you can be sure he's sending them telepathic messages. And once he gains more strength, he will call to them. And they
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will come."

"The situation is grave indeed," says Lupine, his yellow-ish eyes squinting in worry. "Untrained wolves running around. They could cause serious problems when the moon is full."

"Yeah, they already are. That's why I'm here. We have to figure out a way to cure them. Is there one?" I cross my fin-gers, praying for an affirmative answer.

Luckily Lupine nods. "There is an antidote," he says. "When our cubs reach maturity we give them the choice. Stay with the pack or live the rest of their days as a human. Those who choose humanity are doused with antidote and sent out into the world, never to return."

Hope sparks inside me. "Great! I was hoping you'd say that!" I exclaim. "Do you have any to spare that I can take back to America?"

"We can make some up for you, not a problem. Just takes a little of the old secret ingredient," Lupine says. The men all chuckle and I wonder what joke I'm missing out on.

"Secret ingredient?"

"Alpha wolf piss," explains Lupine.

I stare at him. "Urn, ew?"

The men laugh.

"Don't worry, luv," says Lupine. "We distill it and by the time it's in antidote form it's only one part of a million. You won't even be able to smell it."

"Oh-kay. I trust you," I say. Actually it's a bit amusing to imagine feeding the cheerleaders wolf piss. "So how's it ad-ministered?"

"Topically. Just let it seep through the skin."

"That sounds easy enough."

"Not really. You see, it can only be applied when they're in wolf form."

"Oh." Yes, I can see where that would be a bit more challenging. What am I supposed to do? Wait 'til homecom-ing and then try to trap them all in the same room? Get out the old Super Soaker and blast them all with it once theystart growing claws and teeth? If it doesn't work right away I'll have some pretty angry, deadly wolves on my ass.

I shake my head. I'll think of something. The important thing now is to get the antidote.

"So when can you have it made?" I ask,

"Give us 'til tomorrow morning," says Lupine. "We'll haveit for you by then."

"Great!" I exclaim. "Thank you, guys. You're really helpful."

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"Not a problem. We're sorry this happened to your friends. When we find Lone Wolf we will definitely take him outso this does not happen again."

"One more question," I say. "A few of our football players have been missing since the whole incident.

Do you think it's possible they were . . . eaten?"

The men look at one another, then shake their heads. “Unlikely," they say. "Are these boys attractive to the bitches?"

I know he means female dogs, but I kinda like the innuendo. "Sure. In fact, one of them is the boyfriend of the cheerleader."

"Then it's doubtful they ate them. More likely they're presenting them as a gift to Lone Wolf, their alpha.

Subservient males to put under his control. A rogue wolf like him would like weak, human males because it will not challenge his dominance."

"I see," I say. Hmm, I wonder how I can find out where they stashed the boys. "Thanks, guys. You were really help-ful. I'll come back in the a.m. to get the antidote."

"Not a problem, vampire," says Lupine. "Perhaps some-day our kinds will meet again. You are always welcome to howl with us."

I grin. I'm so not going to turn away from this chance. "Arrroooooo!"

19

Back at our hotel room, I fill Jareth in on all I've learned from the Lycans.

"So all we have to do is wait 'til tomorrow morning and we'll have our antidote," I inform him. "Of course I have no idea how we're going to douse them with the stuff, seeing as they have to be in wolf form for it to work. But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess, right? In any case, I did good, huh?

Mission accomplished. And I didn't even piss them off. Not a single wolf raised his hackles at me. You'd have been so proud."

I pause for breath, hoping to get at least some sort of kudos for all my hard work. I look over at Jareth.

He's staring at a hotel painting on the wall, so intently that if I didn’t know better I'd say it had the secrets of the universe embedded between brushstrokes.

"Jareth?"

He shakes his head and turns to face me. "You did well," he says. "I'm sure Slayer Inc. will be very pleased with your work."

I sigh. Who gives a care about Slayer Inc.? I want him to say
he's
pleased with my work. Geez, the guy can really hold a grudge.

I square my shoulders, determined to break him from his bad mood. I've done it before. In fact, it's my specialty. The Get Jareth in a Good Mood and Make Him Forget He's Mad at Me twelve-step program.

I've done it so many times I should be giving seminars at this point. Though, of course, I seem to be the
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only one able to piss him off frequently enough to warrant a training session.

"So we should celebrate, don't you think? Maybe go out on the town, tonight? I mean, sure it isn't much of a town, but it could be fun to join the wolves in the pub. Howl at the moon, all that jazz. Or maybe there's someplace nearby that has dancing. Remember how we used to always go dancing? How it relieved all of our problems?"

Before we became blood mates, when I was severely de-pressed, Jareth took me out to Club Fang, promising me that a night of music and dance would be just the ticket to cheer me up. And he was right, too. There's something about the powerof dance that lifts a bad mood. If only I can get him to agree to go.

But he only shakes his head. "Sorry, Rayne," he says. "I thinkour problems are a little more serious than the kind thatcan be cured by a song and dance."

They are? Since when? This is getting a bit worrisome.

"Why are you so down, Jareth?" I ask, walking over to him,searching his face for answers."Imean, we're going to accomplish our mission. Save the day once again. You should behappy."

He stares back at me blankly and I can't tell what he's thinkingat all. Geez. Back in America I couldn't get him to stop smilingfor five seconds. Yet now that
I'm
happy, he's total Emo boyagain. Why can't we just get mood-synced for once?

I put my arms around his waist, trying to pull him close. But his body is stiff and unyielding. He grabs my hands and pulls them away, then pushes by me and walks over to the bed and sits down.

"Jareth, what's wrong?" I ask, a scared tickle creeping through my insides. I shiver, hugging my arms to my chest. The room's suddenly as cold as Christmas and I have the horrible feeling there's no Santa Claus on his way.

Jareth draws in a deep breath, folding his hands in his lap. "Rayne, we need to talk," he says at last. His voice sounds a bit hoarse.

I freeze. A talk?
A talk?
But that's relationship code for . . .

Oh my God. He's going to break up with me.

I lean against the wall and slump down to a sitting posi-tion, hugging my knees to my chest, fighting off the panicky feeling inside—the icy electricity thrumming through my veins, my heart pounding like mad against my chest.

I've finally done it. I've managed to scare him off. My boyfriend. My blood mate. The one who promised to live with me for all time. Problem is, when he made that promise he had no idea what living with me would actually be like. Stupid, pig-headed, angry-at-the-world me.

"Please don't leave me," I whisper. It's an effort to even speak, what with the apple-sized lump in my throat and all. "I love you."