“I remember there was once another wolf like you,” Farley whispered. “It was a long time ago. He was the alpha’s—my uncle’s—guard. For years, the man seemed quiet enough. Didn’t speak unless spoken to. He knew his place, kept the alpha safe when attacked.
“Then one day my pa found him at his place, talking to himself. He’d talk to the furniture, the houseplants, any piece of crap he had around. Of course, Pa just shrugged it off. After all, the man lived alone with no family. But when things mattered most, my uncle learned a hard lesson.” He turned to me. “Can you guess what my uncle’s guard did?”
I shook my head.
“One day, a rival pack leader came by to challenge the
alpha for leadership. That’s how they did it back then—none of this sneakin’ round and slittin’ throats in the night.
“Well, the guard flipped out. Just when the rival leader almost had my uncle subdued, the guard went apeshit and started killing pack members indiscriminately. It was as if he’d lost his mind, grabbing people without thought, not listening to the commands of his alpha.”
He remained silent for a bit until a fit of coughs shook his frame. After he composed himself, he continued. “What I’m trying to say is that I refuse to let that kind of thing into my pack. I refuse to allow anyone who might be unstable to get close to me.”
“It’s not as if we have movie nights together, Mr. Grantham,” I whispered.
“I’m not stupid, girl. I can see the way my boy looks at you. You’re more than a liability to the pack. You’re a liability to
him
as well.” He snorted. “I can’t believe he tried to defend you. Defend what you
are
. A bunch of words about what you’ve done in the past won’t help us now. We’re vulnerable, and we don’t need your kind around here.”
My kind?
“May I leave now?” My voice quivered.
Old Farley grabbed the remote control with one hand and flicked in the direction of the door with the other. “Be sure to escort your grandma home. I’ll let you take one of my guards along—for her safety.” He guffawed. “
Her
safety. That’s a good one.”
The blaring roar of the western filled the room again. I walked to the door, my limbs numb and rubbery. When I opened the door, I expected to see her waiting alone. Instead Thorn sat on a chair next to her, holding her hand.
I managed to blurt in Russian, “It’s time to go home, Grandma.”
From that point on, I didn’t look at Farley or Thorn, even though he held the door open for us and followed us out into the night. When I headed to the car, my grandmother tugged me toward the road. “Come walk with me, Natalya. We need to talk.”
“It’s cold outside, Grandma. I don’t want you out here like this. Especially after what happened to you.”
She ignored my words, gently pulling me along. Thorn stayed out of earshot, yet didn’t stray far.
“There’s nothing to talk about. We both know I’ll have to leave.”
“Absolute nonsense. That man is still young and doesn’t know any better.”
I snorted. “If he’s too young to know any better, then I must still be considered a werewolf toddler.”
“In many ways, you’re still Anna’s little girl, but that hasn’t stopped you from growing, from learning. Some people never accomplish that much.”
We stuck to the gravel road and avoided the muddy puddles. Grandma told me about when she’d first met Old Farley. How he’d been as much of a jerk then as he was now. I loved listening to her speak. She had a soft lilt to her voice that rocked and lulled me.
“Did you come to Farley’s house alone?” I asked.
“You know who brought me here.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Thorn walking along the tree line. He kept his gaze on the open road. When I dared to stare a second longer, our eyes met.
“Why did he help us?” I said. “He doesn’t care if I’m driven away.”
“You take those words back, Natalya Fydorova Stravinsky.” She gripped my hand more tightly while her voice became stern. “You weren’t in the room to hear what he said to his father about you. From your vantage point, he might not be worthy of your affections right now, but
he’d give up everything if he could guarantee the pack’s safety
and
have you by his side.”
I bit my lower lip as my face reddened. I sensed Thorn’s eyes on my back. “What do I do? Farley wants me to leave.”
“Thorn told me he’ll do everything in his power to end the conflict. What you and I will do is what we always
should
do. Pray and hope for the best. I’ve been through wars and enough pack rivalries to tell tales until dawn. What they all have in common is that they eventually end. When this fight ends, you’ll see that this short span of time is only a sliver of your long life to come.”
I nodded but couldn’t keep from interrupting her to learn the truth about what had happened that night. “Grandma, why did you do what you did the other night?”
We walked a bit before she answered. “Would you do what I did if you knew such secrets?”
I quickly nodded. “Without hesitation.”
“Then you do not need to ask why. What you want to know is how I did it.” In the darkness, she had a sly smile on her face. A twinkle in her brown eyes.
“Mom said the old magic’s forbidden.”
“Your mother was always a city gal. She doesn’t know the old ways of the countryside.” She sighed. “What I sacrificed these last few days will be with me for what time I have left. But it was worth it. My family is everything to me.”
I thought I’d been emptied of tears, but more now flowed freely.
“One day, you’ll learn what I know,” she said. “See what I see. There’s more to our world than the Code. And in the end, some prices are worth paying.”
T
he
day of my brother’s wedding to the crazy local wood nymph should’ve been a day of unhindered celebration. But they rushed into the ceremony, in the atmosphere of turmoil and fear that gripped the community. Only two weeks after the attack and Farley’s proclamation of my banishment, we decided to hold the wedding. Thorn had urged my family to postpone it until spring, but Karey balked. She refused to have, as she called it, “a bastard werewolf baby.”
“Natalya, stop staring out that window and get me another pan. This one’s boiling over.” If my mother had had her werewolf snout, she’d have literally nipped at my heels.
She continued, “We should be safe for now. The sooner I finish cooking, the sooner we can head over to the church.”
We finished the task of cooking rack after rack of food. As the parents of the groom, my father had offered my mother’s services as a short-order cook. Little did those nymphs know they’d be getting enough food to feed the entire werewolf population of South Toms River. I stirred a pot while my mother sealed containers of casseroles and Cornish hens. A well-glazed ham—okay,
seven
well-glazed hams—sat steaming in pots, ready to
be carried to the family minivan. My mother refused to use my father’s truck—which was always filthy—to transport her fine fare.
As Karey’s maid of honor, I had to be at the church early. But with my mother cooking food for everyone and
their
mother—and with me drafted as her assistant—I was worried I’d show up late.
My father hauled the food to the minivan, where my grandmother was situated comfortably in the front. Since I was the lowest member on the totem pole, I got to sit in the back, holding a Crock-Pot with the au gratin potatoes.
“You know, I could always go in
my
car.”
My mother flicked her hand. “No need. You’re heading to the wedding, we’re heading to the wedding. Why waste gas?”
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t a child anymore who could be conned into thinking I wasn’t cheap labor. I was expected to help bring the mountain of food to the church.
Her bitter words the night of the attack had been buried. After Grandma had woken up, Mom had relaxed a bit, though she refused to talk about my upcoming banishment. Since I didn’t want to think about it myself, I was perfectly fine with that. Why dwell on it when I could enjoy my brother’s wedding?
The church looked more like an office complex than a place of worship. But that didn’t stop my family from giving their respects. My great-grandmother and grandma had attended the Russian Orthodox Church, but once they came to America they fell off the wagon and lost the horse in the process. But like any devout religious believer, my grandma paused to cross herself as she entered the church—even though it was a nondenominational one.
I wish I could’ve seen the pastor’s face when my brother approached him: “Excuse me, I’m a werewolf, and I
need to marry the pregnant wood nymph who scratched up my custom truck.” I knew Alex had more finesse than that, but I didn’t see why he didn’t pick a venue like the local banquet hall. After all, Karey was most likely a practicing pagan.
I made my way to one of the back rooms, where the bridal party was sequestered. The matron of honor and another bridesmaid perched near the round bride and prepared her for the event. As the only werewolf in the room, I felt like a misplaced brown egg among the white ones in an egg carton. So I played with the bouquet a few feet away.
Even after seeing the party-in-a-trunk Karey had been planning, and her artwork on Alex’s truck, I tried not to hold any of it against her. I would’ve been totally justified in having an attitude, but since I was leaving soon anyway, I thought it would be best to try to be nice.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Karey?” a waif-thin bridesmaid asked. She wore a frown that marred her delicate beauty. She was so thin I stifled the urge to feed her some of my mother’s food. The poor thing looked like one of those stick-thin models who subsist entirely on energy drinks.
“Stop asking me, Arielle. I love him. Even if he
is
a nincompoop. No offense, Natalya.”
I shrugged. After today, she could call him every name in the book and it wouldn’t matter. They were about to be married, and, no matter what, the child she carried would be part of my family. I’d give my life for the child. I’d even protect the young scrapper no matter how much its nymphlike skin glistened in the noonday sun.
I was already wearing my bridesmaid dress—pink taffeta and lace—so I sat there quietly while the others applied their makeup and tended to Karey’s needs. Her roommate stopped by to ask if we needed anything, but
we pretty much had things covered. To pass the time, I opened a paperback book and read.
After all, they didn’t need my help to thrust Karey’s full belly into the slim-fitting white dress she wanted to wear. I myself thought a loose-flowing gown would’ve been more appropriate, but she planned to walk down the aisle telling the world that my brother had not only sampled the cow’s milk but had produced a calf too.
I realized it would be a big change for Alex. No more partying or carousing for him. He’d have to live a responsible life as a father and provider. I snorted and the cheesy grin on my face caused the bride, matron of honor, and Arielle to glance in my direction.
“It’s a funny book,” I said. But not as funny as this whole wedding would be.
While I waited, a question bugged me to no end. I had to ask. I had to know.
“Karey, this may sound like a weird question, but how did you know Aggie and I were eating dinner with Alex the night you,” I paused to think of something nice to say, “visited the house?”
She brushed off the question as if she’d never keyed her fiancé’s car with a deadly tool. “The weeping willow on your street never minds its own business. It blabbers gossip to every tree in the subdivision. So it was just a matter of time until I learned about the dinner.”
And I thought the movie
The Birds
was creepy enough. Now I needed to worry about the malicious intent of the foliage watching me like Big Brother. Note to self:
Every bush and tree is a blabbering traitor, and nymphs can talk with them
. I went back to my book. Nothing like some international action with Dirk Pitt via Clive Cussler to wipe away memories of my conversation with Karey.
Soon enough, an usher arrived to tell us it was time to walk down the aisle. I tried to stay positive and paste a
smile on my face. Sinking into misery would’ve been easy to do. But this whole experience would be good for my brother and the rest of my family. A new baby would bring joy to my mother and her sisters. And Alex would finally no longer have my nosy relatives playing matchmaker.
But would it be good for me? After all, I’d be the banished, unmarried sister who watched from afar.
The wedding procession went like clockwork. Well, my role in it went like clockwork. I entered the sanctuary to see my brother waiting at the altar. To my left, the guests of the bride included every nymph, pixie, kobold, and goblin in the area.
Even Bill was one of the bride’s guests. Perhaps he was a distant relative. I prayed they weren’t actually related. On the groom’s side, my family filled the seats. Even with just a couple of weeks to plan this shindig, my mother had managed to invite every relative this side of the Garden State Parkway. I nodded to Auntie and Uncle Petrovich from Connecticut as well as my distant cousin Yelena from Maine. The youngest Stravinsky was about to be married, and everyone was here to send him off.
Eventually, I reached the end of the aisle and stood off to the side. My brother beamed in my direction. He didn’t look too shabby in his black suit and tie. For once he even appeared, well,
responsible
.
The matron of honor came next. I thought she’d stroll as we’d done in rehearsal, but instead she danced down the aisle carrying a small urn of myrrh. The overpowering cloud of ancient perfumery made all the werewolves scrunch their noses. And I had no idea how old she was, but her thin white gown wasn’t exactly modest. What had happened to the bridesmaid outfit she’d had on earlier? Aunt Vera’s mouth dropped open in horror as the men watched her with hearty grins.
It was the first sign that a traditional wedding wasn’t what the nymphs had in mind. Now their devious plan went into effect. This included see-through gowns with breasts bouncing around in them like jelly doughnuts in a Krispy Kreme bag.