Hair in All The Wrong Places (14 page)

How do I know you're not the killer?

Look into my mind, kid. You can see everything. I can't see your first night as a werewolf because you weren't even conscious yourself. We're connected right now, concentrate on this connection. Take a peek. Did I kill him?

Colin tilted his head like a confused dog. He concentrated on Silas's mind. There was death there; the events all strung together like a badly edited movie. Centuries of hunting and killing crammed into a single shot of memory. Sam Bale wasn't in there.

It wasn't you.

I'll keep hunting the other werewolf. You head to that meeting tonight and see if you can find out what's going on. You'll need to change back. Whoever these men in suits are, they seem to be able to track me when I'm in wolf form. No point in you showing up on their radar.

With that, Silas leaped high into the sky, grabbing hold of a tree with his powerful claws. He continued jumping, climbing higher and higher into the dense forest until he was lost from sight. Colin could still faintly hear his thoughts and thought of one last question.

Wait, how do I change back?

Imagine yourself as a human.

It's that simple?

It's that simple.

Will it hurt?

It'll always hurt. Although it won't be like this first time. Your body remembers. The change will become faster. Good luck, Colin. If you need me, think loud thoughts.

With that last bit of advice, Silas slipped smoothly out of his head, and Colin was alone again.

Preparing to jump, Colin crouched and sprang into the air, at least twenty feet, landing lightly next to the creek. He wanted find out what he was capable of.
Silas's warning about the black suits' ability to track his movements as a wolf rang in his head, and he knew he should turn back.

But he didn't want to. Not yet.

I'm a werewolf. I'm a freakin' werewolf!

Colin took off at a run, first on two legs, then dropping to all four. Four legs were better for speed, but two gave him better manoeuvrability. He bounded high into the trees and climbed the large trunks, his claws digging easily into the wood.

Vaulting from tree to tree like a monkey, he dropped back to the ground, his claws digging into the dirt as he ran. As his senses absorbed the various sounds and smells of the woods, a familiar something tingled down his spine.

Becca.

He could hear her searching for him at least a mile away. Calling his name. There was no way he could let her see him like this. As much as the thought pained him, he had to change back. Colin returned to the creek to retrieve his clothes.

He flexed his senses, extending his awareness, one last time before attempting the change.

I could get used to this.

Chapter Thirteen
Conversations

C
hanging back was just as painful but took less time. As soon as Colin decided to change, the hair instantly shed from his body like someone shaking a pine tree, falling away and disintegrating into nothingness. At the same time, his body contorted and twisted rapidly. Colin imagined it looked like someone unfolding an origami swan, or wolf in this case, and refolding it into a boy.

Bones shrank, disconnecting, and reconnecting in a string of sickening clicks and crunches. Muscles burning as they deflated back down to size. The beautiful claws at the tips of his fingers and toes shrank and uncurled into regular human nails. His skin, which was now much too big for his body, shrink-wrapped around his newly reformed bones and muscles while a faint tingle signalled the regrowth of his human body hair.

The whole thing took only a few seconds. He stood naked in the forest by the creek. In human form, he had super-human strength and senses but as a wolf, everything was magnified so much more. He still didn't know if he was a killer, but if this was his life now, then Colin was determined to be the best werewolf there was. He wasn't going to squander these gifts and momentarily pictured himself in spandex and fighting crime.

Ridiculous. I'd look horrible in spandex.

Looking at his reflection in the water as he pulled his jeans back on, Colin felt as if the change had balanced everything out. He had abs and unmistakable muscle definition while his eyes shined with an amber tinge and his hair was thick and messy.

The body of a monster. This is so cool.

“Colin?” Becca's voice was full of disbelief, shock, confusion, embarrassment … lots of embarrassment.

Spinning around, Colin found Becca standing at the edge of the tree line, her mouth frozen open. Colin had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he'd been ignoring his new senses that he was currently obsessing over.

“I … Becca …,” stammered Colin, scrambling for a plausible reason as to why he was standing half-naked next to a creek in the middle of a forest. He needed something creative, something amazing, something that would cause no room for argument.

“I was really warm,” he finally managed. “So I was going to cool myself off in the creek.”

“Colin, you're hot.” She suddenly realized that she was staring and covered her own eyes. “I mean, you're hot? You were hot. Like a fever. That's why … yes, that
explains it. Wow. Okay. I'm just going to …” She turned to face the other way. “Maybe you should finish getting dressed”

Huh? She's just as flustered as me.

Colin grabbed his discarded hoodie, pulling it over his head. “I'm really sorry, Becca. I didn't feel well, I couldn't catch my breath, and then I found myself here and, well, I feel better now.”

“Please tell me you're fully clothed.”

Colin slipped his sneakers back on his feet. He picked up the T-shirt and underwear he'd torn to shreds when he changed, balled them, and threw them into some bushes, making a mental note to buy some stretchy clothing.

“Okay, I'm good. I mean, I'm dressed. I … yeah, this is awkward.”

Becca turned around, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “I was worried when you ran off like that, so I came looking for you after class ended. That was a little more of you than I was expecting to find.”

Walking back through the forest, Colin asked Becca. “Did I miss anything good in class?”

“Mr. Winter was furious with you. I thought he was going to blow a gasket. He was so worked up that he dismissed class early.”

“That man has some serious anger issues.”

“Can you believe he made another joke about Sam's death? That's really weird, right?”

“He does seem to be a bigger jerk lately. And that aftershave!”

“What does he do? Bathe in the stuff? Are you feeling better?”

Her hand felt cold against his forehead as she checked for a fever. The lurching of his insides having nothing to do with the crushing feelings he felt for her. It felt like somebody was poking around inside his body, exploring his mind. Looking at Becca, he could see her eyes moving beneath her closed lids.

Colin stepped away, and her eyes snapped open. She looked confused for a second.

“What are you doing?” said Colin.

“I was checking to see if you still had a fever. You have to admit you've been acting strange lately.”

There was a waver in her voice, and her heartbeat had noticeably increased a few clicks.
She's lying.

They walked on in silence. Colin thought back to the day Gareth and his cronies had beaten him in detention, when Becca had pulled him aside and he'd gotten that same sensation. Something wasn't right. And it wasn't just Becca or Tori or the man in the alley or the wolf attack. It was Elkwood; something wasn't right with Elkwood.

They reached the football field in time to hear the bell ring for lunch.

“I think I'm going to head home early,” said Colin.

“Are you okay? Maybe you should see a doctor.”

The only doctor in town was Dr. Flint, and he was a notorious drunk who was just as likely to fall asleep during an appointment, as he was to diagnose the common cold as Ebola.

“I'll think about it. Talk later?”

“Yeah. I'll call you.”

Colin turned and left her standing there. Until recently, he was a quiet loser with no aspirations. Now
this
had happened, and he felt like he was seeing the world for the first time. His normal
modus operandi
would be to ignore everything content to let the world pass him by. Now he felt a nagging need to know what was going on and why. Curiosity often killed the cat, but for the first time in his life, Colin didn't care.

If curiosity tries to kill me, I'll bite its head off.

It was raining heavily by the time Colin got home. He briefly considered slipping around the back of the house and jumping to the roof to climb in his bedroom window. But he'd learned long ago that sneaking past his grandmother was impossible; she had ears like a bat. Instead, he told her he wasn't feeling well and ran up the stairs before she had a chance to respond. She muttered several curse words which, thanks to his newfound hearing abilities, Colin heard from his bedroom.

He spent the rest of the afternoon writing out everything he could remember about his first change, even the minor details. Four hours later, he'd filled another notepad. With the memories still fresh in his mind, he considered trying to change again; in truth, he was craving it. He had a strong desire to assume his wolf form again, to experience the thrill of running through the forest, hunting deer … His stomach growled as his nose caught the whiff of Bolognese sauce.

“Dinner's ready!” shouted his grandmother.

She made me dinner?

Colin wasn't in any hurry to repeat this morning's awkward exchange with his grandmother, but the smell of food was difficult to resist. Before he'd really thought about it, he was already downstairs standing in the kitchen. His grandmother was straining pasta over the sink.

“Since you've acquired the appetite of a horse, I thought I'd make us dinner,” said his grandmother.

“I don't really know what to say.” And he truly didn't. This was all too unusual.

“You can start with a thank-you. I'm nobody's slave.”

“Thank you.”

“Now be a good useless teenager and dish up food.”

His grandmother removed her apron and took her usual seat at the kitchen table. Colin loaded two plates with pasta and meat sauce and sat down across from the old lady who had terrified him for the past year. It was like sitting down with an old enemy to discuss a ceasefire. Maybe that's exactly what this was.

“Feeling better?” asked his grandmother.

“Yes, thank you, Grandmother.”

They both ate in silence. Colin finished off one plate of food and went for a second.

“I'm going to a town hall meeting tonight at seven o'clock. I expect it'll run late,” she informed him.

Silas was right.

“Didn't you just have a town hall meeting?”

“We didn't finish discussing all the issues at the last one.”

Colin wondered how far he should or could push for
information. “What happens at these meetings?”

“Nothing of great interest. We'll discuss different issues and possible developments for the town. What will you be doing tonight? More gallivanting through the night with your strange new friends?”

Colin ignored the not-so-subtle poke. “I think I'll head to bed early. I want to rest up in case I am getting sick.”

“Hmph. For a sick kid, you've got a healthy appetite.”

Colin finished off his second plate and loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. He grabbed a couple slices of garlic bread, thanked his grandmother for dinner, and headed upstairs.

At 6:15 p.m., his cell phone buzzed.

“Hello?” answered Colin.

“Hi, Colin. How are you feeling?” It was Becca.

“I think I'm okay. How was the rest of school?”

“Oh, it was the same exceptionally amazing educational experience that it always is. Jeremy seemed worried about you.”

“No he didn't. Jeremy never worries about anything.”

“Yeah, you're right. He didn't. Does he always strike you as being blissfully unaware?”

“I'd say that sums up Jer perfectly.”

“Good-looking guy though.”

Wait, what?

“I …well, if you like those sorts of boyish good looks, I suppose so.”

“Do you know if he's seeing anyone?”

Jealousy gripped Colin like a vise, and he felt the creature inside him begin to move. He remembered Silas's
words:
“Your change can be triggered by strong emotions.”

“No,” said Colin through gritted teeth, “he's not seeing anyone.”

Suddenly Becca laughed. Colin loved her laugh. Skin tingling and sweating profusely, Colin fought to control his body.

Other books

A Thousand Mornings by Mary Oliver
La abominable bestia gris by George H. White
The Gift of Hope by Pam Andrews Hanson
The Flame of Wrath by Christene Knight