Not Your Ordinary Wolf Girl (19 page)

“Uh, yeah.” Wolf Girl? What did he know? “Have you seen others? Others like me, I mean?”

He shrugged and pointed at a newspaper box. The cover story was about a couple of prep school girls who'd gone missing. “Who hasn't? They hide in abandoned buildings and come out at night.”

I hopped over to Courtney on the leg that didn't hurt like a bitch. Bending down to pick her up was going to kill me. As soon as the guy figured out what I
was doing, he came over to assist. I was grateful, because I wasn't sure the muumuu would keep me covered. Talk about a money shot.

“Hang on, Missy,” said the guy, rummaging through his bags until he located a pink “I ♥ the Big Apple” hat. He handed it to me, then planted his hands on his hips expectantly. I inspected the hat. It looked brand new. I jammed it on my head. It was big enough to fit a baby elephant. Then the man turned, dived into his cart again, and found me a cloth belt. He rubbed at some ground-in crud before he came over and looped it around my neck. Not a belt—it was a guitar strap!

“Hey, thanks again,” I said, attaching Courtney and pulling her as tight as possible. “Maybe I can return the favour sometime.”

“You will.” He sounded so certain. “I'll be around.” He walked away, pushing his overloaded cart.

“Okay, good!” I called after him.

I realized I had no shoes. I dragged myself behind a building and folded the hat and muumuu into a bundle on my back, in case I needed them later. Then I slid into wolf form. My sore leg hurt less when I could put weight on the other three. I played it extra safe crossing streets from then on.

Back at my place, I faced a new dilemma: I'd given Queenie my keys and phone. Awesome. Of course my
problem tenants hadn't left the door propped open tonight. I rang the buzzer to see if Queenie was up there, but got no response. Where had she gone? My best option appeared to be climbing inside the same way that Sue and the Lebrun brothers had. Hmm. If they could do it …

The passage between my building and the next one led to the backyard and the fire escape. It was so dark back there. Could I really climb up to the fourth floor? Definitely not with a bass on my back. I bit at the strap to release it and stashed Courtney beneath the old loading dock. Then I jumped onto the dock to get a little closer to the bottom of the folded metal staircase.

My first hurdle would be jumping to the stairs about fifteen feet up. I hopped onto a plastic table on the dock that was used for picnics and leapt again, twisting my torso in midair and trying to use the additional force to propel my body upward. My front paws successfully hit the metal platform. I bucked my lower half, but my hind legs didn't quite make it. My butt hung downward until I lost my grip and fell to the ground, landing on my sore leg.

Whimpering, I paced around the neglected backyard, hoping that would ease the pain. So my wolf body couldn't defy gravity. I wasn't actually a superhero. But I
was
super strong. There should be a way
to leverage that. It took a good ten minutes before I was ready to try again. I'd have to remember to stash another set of keys out here for emergencies. Clearly, there were going to be times when I couldn't show up and borrow my mom's.

Instead of starting on the table, I jumped onto it from a different angle, bounced off it and hit the platform with my front legs, then immediately hopped. That got my back legs high enough. Sweet. After that, it was easy to clamber up to the fourth floor. The tricky part would be getting from the fire escape to the window ledge.

Stupidly, I looked down. The pavement was
very
far away. Would a fall like this kill a werewolf ? Maybe. Would I stay in this form or turn human again if I died? I'd changed back when the taxi hit me, but there was no way to know. If I remained a wolf, how would my mother ever find out what happened to her daughter …?

Pushing aside all my fears, I climbed onto the corner of the railing and stared at my kitchen window. With four feet, it wasn't difficult to keep a firm grip. That was encouraging because the window ledge was a lot wider than the stair railing.

So I jumped … and landed on the ledge … and managed to stay up there. It was even
less
fun than I'd
imagined. The wind buffeted me against the windowpane. I willed my paws to change into human hands. They did. The rest of my body followed. That part was getting easier. Human fingers could grip the window frame and yank it upward. It was barred shut. Marlon must've put the mop handle back in place for me. After a couple of tries, I was able to rattle it out of position.

The window opened a few inches. I pulled some more and slid my head and shoulders into the opening, then wiggled my stomach and legs through as well. I tumbled onto the kitchen counter beside the stove and rolled, sending dirty dishes clattering. Relief filled me as I hit the floor.

I pulled on a pair of leggings and the first clean shirt my fingers touched. My leg still ached. I found Queenie passed out on the couch, looking hairier than ever, with her sunshine-yellow hair splayed across a cushion. She'd been playing Karaoke Revolution, my favourite game. I turned it off, figuring I should just let her sleep for now.

I couldn't forget about the bass. As soon as one of my tenants went out to toss the garbage, they'd see it, and Courtney was clearly expensive. I didn't want anyone to take her or ask questions.

Grabbing my keys off the kitchen table, I headed downstairs to reclaim my stolen goods. Aside from a
brief flirtation with stealing nail polish in my tweens, I'd never taken anything that wasn't mine. And now … Marlon. Was I a thief
and
a murderer?

After picking up the bass, I walked around to the front door, playing the chorus of “Not Missing You.” The new instrument sounded weird. Its shape was foreign. I missed Janis. My sudden rage toward her mystified me.

My fingers were shaky, but most of the strings had good sound quality. They tightened up when I twisted the tuning keys. I'd probably replace them all, though, because the twang was off on the D. I fiddled with the notes some more as I climbed the stairs.

In my apartment, I rubbed down Courtney with a damp cloth, scrubbed the dirt from my feet and hands, and inspected any remaining scrapes and bruises. I was in incredible shape considering I'd been hit by a car, but I was ready to keel over from exhaustion. I turned off my phones' ringers, grabbed my ancient T-ball bat, and climbed into bed.

It was after noon when I sloughed off my comforter and crawled out of bed. Someone was in the kitchen, rummaging noisily through my fridge. My heart began to beat quickly, until I remembered it was Queenie. She was wearing my T-shirt silkscreened with the subway map and a pair of my too-short sweatpants, and from
behind she looked like a life-size Muppet. Nothing seemed out of place in my apartment. Other than her.

“You're not gonna find anything in there,” I said, stretching.

“I've never wanted meat so bad in my life,” she said, slamming the fridge door and sliding to the ground. Seeing her face, I took a step back before I could stop myself. She noticed, and buried her hairy face in her hairy hands.

“I'm just not used to …”

“Having a monster in your kitchen?”

“Sorry,” I said.

“I'm sixteen and my life is
over
. One minute I'm a cheerleader at Columbia Prep. Now I look like Bigfoot's daughter.”

“You're one of the girls in the paper!” I exclaimed. “Everyone's looking for you and Sue.”

She groaned miserably. “I keep shaving and waxing, but it just grows right back. And my only friend in the entire world is probably dead. I can't handle this! I can never go home. My parents would rather I was dead than have their friends find out I'm a half-wolf!”

“Join the club,” I said. “I mean, I'm sure Sue's okay. We'll find her.” But I couldn't come up with anything more reassuring. Her parents sounded a lot worse than my mom. “How about I order us a pizza?”

She sniffled. “Triple meat. Party size.”

I found my cell and put in the order.

“So you slept all right?” I asked.

“Passed out the moment I hit the couch. It's heaven compared to the squat.” She grimaced. “We're not really set up. And there are bedbugs in the old mattress I use—don't worry, I sealed all my dirty clothes in a garbage bag. I'm scared to shut my eyes.”

“Understandable.” I decided not to mention how many werewolves had found their way inside my place recently, including her friend. I really hoped she hadn't brought any bedbugs with her—every New Yorker's nightmare.

“Did you eat anyone last night?” she asked.

I smiled wryly. “Don't think so.”

“Find out anything about Sue?”

“Not yet. You need to tell me everything you know.”

“I hardly know anything. Only that Owen Lebrun has been turning girls across the city. There were four of us in the squat that were deformed in some way. We found each other by scent, but we didn't know what was happening. We've made mistakes. It's just that the urges are so strong …”

“And now the media's out for blood.”

She stroked the fur on her chin nervously. “Sue and I got
so
hungry, we robbed a street vendor, took his
meat and some cash. A couple girls tried to mug some businessmen, but that really went south—they scraped one guy up pretty badly by accident. Another girl stole a bunch of meat from a supermarket. We finally had enough to eat. But now Sue's disappeared, and I'm just so scared for her!”

How many girls had Owen bitten? Some were dead, if the mortality rate was as high as the Lebruns thought. Was I the only one who'd fully changed? I felt dizzy just thinking about all those poor girls—how would the survivors be able to live their lives?

Queenie went on. “He pulled the same thing with all of us. He comes on strong, talking about how he's looking for his perfect mate, acts all sexy and charming, gets us alone, and—”

I flashed back to her laughing with Owen in the Central Park bandshell. “You met him for the first time at The Puffs concert?”

She nodded. “He bit me and Sue that night. We were so scared, we ran away.”

“Just before he got me,” I said. “That's why you wanted me to stay away from him?”

“What did you think? He seemed so interested in you. Guess it was too late.”

“I thought you were jealous.”

She exhaled angrily. “Not about him!”

“So why did Sue high-kick me?” I asked.

Queenie tossed her hands in the air. “Serious rage issues now. We haven't been eating well, which doesn't help. It's
hard
to interact with normal people when you look like this.”

“Do you know how to find the other girls who've been bitten?”

“I know one of them is still hiding at the squat. Her name's Rosa. She's got a wolf 's hind legs. Can't disguise
those
too easily.”

“Go find her after we eat, okay? Bring her here. Before anything bad happens, to her or anyone else. Bring any of the girls here. My place is safer than the streets. Maybe we can help each other.”

Queenie looked thankful, even though she didn't say it.

I hunted down a towel for her, bigger pants, and a hoodie, then checked my messages. Vinnie wanted to know about summer travel arrangements and reminded me that the interview with Wanda was today—“You'd better be there, no excuses.” As if I'd forget! Malika had called to say that Marlon showed her something
so
upsetting after I left the Cake Shop. He was okay? Sure enough, the final message was from Marlon himself, who simply stated his name and how to reach him,
even though I already had his cell number. I deleted the messages.

I took a quick shower, paid for the pizza when it arrived, and successfully inhaled two slices before Queenie stripped off
all
the ground beef, sausage, and pepperoni with greasy fingers and stuffed them in her mouth. Then she wiped her hands on the pants I'd just given her, turned on my stereo without asking, tuned into the worst Top 10 station, and flopped onto the couch to mope.

This was exactly why I didn't have a roommate …

SIXTEEN

I
needed to get focused before facing off with Wanda Kalamata. I put on skinny jeans and a black and pink sequined shirt. I left money and an extra set of keys for Queenie and took off. As I stomped down the stairs, trying to ignore the hunger still gnawing at me, the evil couple came running onto the third-floor landing.

“Hey!” shouted the woman.

Her husband puffed up his chest. “Your dog almost killed our baby!”

“I don't have a dog,” I said. “And you don't have a baby.” Technically all true.

“It had to be yours!” the woman yelled. “Or your boyfriend's! You're just lucky Zoe only has a broken leg and a concussion …”

If they weren't so awful, I'd have felt even worse than I already did. “Look. I'm really sorry about whatever happened to Zoe, and I'll pay for any vet bills. But you've sent me threatening messages, let paparazzi into the building, and caused major property damage. If you want to move out, be my guest. That might convince me to drop the lawsuit I've already filed.”

“Lawsuit?” the man asked, gaping.

“You heard me.”

“Our lawyer will—”

“Give mine a call. And trust me, mine's a shark. I can afford to retain the best.” I was lying through my canine teeth. While they were figuring out a nasty response, I ducked around them and scurried down the stairs two at a time.

Words of Wonder was sort of on the way to Wanda's TV studio, and I wanted to talk to that guy Daniel again to see if he knew anything about Owen, Sue, and the girls who'd been bitten. I hopped on the subway. The whole ride there I kept looking over my shoulder, worried that Owen would come charging at me from somewhere.