Toy Wolf

Chapter 14: pack life

"Why is this door open?" shouted a loud voice, waking me up. Stefa was still sitting next to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping me from rising. I couldn't see who was at the door.

"Conor left it open, and you didn't shut it?" she remarked. "I can't be held responsible for your guards."

I didn't recognize any of the scents I smelled and grew a little alarmed. Stefa's hand didn't move and I realized she was physically holding me down. What was going on?

"Get a move on, vamp," said the voice.

Stefa's cuffs clinked and I could move once more. I jumped up as the cell door slammed shut just in time to see a man poke Stefa with a cattle prod. She grunted and I was helpless to stop them in the now locked cell. Was this how they got her every morning? Surely not.

Now fully awake, I noticed an untouched tray of food sitting to the side; it must have come when I was asleep. I ate, not because I was hungry, but because I would need all the energy I could get for another long day.

But, as the minutes turned into hours, I realized I had been left in the cell. Reluctantly, I turned to my workbooks, continuing the arduous process of tracing letters and reading the words as they got longer and more complicated. I finished four workbooks over the course of the day. I worried that my fight with Dr. Bryce had led to them to reconsider my ability to learn.

At this point, I didn't care. I didn't want to fight werewolves any more than I wanted to fight vampires. It would be nice to get out and be a person again, but I wasn't convinced that would ever happen. I missed my family terribly. I missed working with Ralph on the truck and helping Mel make coffee. I missed Susie Lynn relaying her history classes to me. Mel and Ralph would be glad I was learning to read and write, and so I could decide to work at this for them. I would get out someday.

The door opened and I quickly closed my workbook, just in time for a body to fall into my arms. Stefa was soaked in blood and she collapsed, unable to continue standing. I didn't know what to do and couldn't quite tell what exactly had been injured. She let out a raspy gasp and I sat on the ground, not sure how to help her.

"There's a small bag of blood," she managed before coughing up blood herself. "It's under my pillow. Could you..."

I carefully moved her to my bed and then reached up to grab the small bag. It was warm and a little odd in color, but Stefa did not look well. I ripped it open and helped pour the somewhat congealed mess down her throat. The cuts on her arms and face started to heal and she grimaced, trying to sit up.

"I'm glad I kept that," she said. "Even if it was gross. Less gross than your blood. Oh."

She clutched her side and fell back down in my lap.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to adopt her cavalier way of talking. "You try to fight everyone at once?"

"This is more accurate than you suppose," she groaned. "Though I think the better way to put it is that everyone was trying to fight me."

"What else can I do?" I asked.

"I can't heal without more blood," Stefa replied, closing her eyes. "And I'm not desperate enough to drink yours. So for now, I'm just going to lie here calmly. How was your day?"

"They left me here," I said. "So I just worked on my workbooks. I made it to irregular verbs."

"That's great," she said softly. "So what happened yesterday?"

"I think I got into a fight with Dr. Bryce," I admitted. "I walked out on her, took a shower and came back here. She wasn't listening to what I was saying, and I just didn't care to be her pet."

"Ah."

She didn't say any more. I felt helpless yet again and I didn't know what I could do or say to make anything better. When I had been injured, Stefa would talk to keep my mind off the pain.

"My mother and father were the alphas," I said. "Our pack was small, only six members. I had two sisters and what I think was my mother's sister. When I was a wolf, I thought our territory was the whole world, but distance is explained by scents and days of running. It doesn't translate well."

"I don't imagine so," Stefa replied with a faint smile.

"We started finding kills in our territory and we were all supposed to stay close to the den," I continued. "I wanted to prove I could fight on my own and so headed across the creek, which had been acting as a sort of barrier between us and the new smells. They didn't smell wolf or human, or anything we had smelled before. I picked up a scent and started following."

"How old were you?" she asked.

"Not quite an adult," I said. "My family guessed I was probably about two years old based on my wolf size. It's hard to talk about being a wolf; I didn't think like I do now."

"All right, go on."

"I encountered a giant wolf, and I think we startled each other, because I should have known better than to fight him on my own, and he shouldn't have been so eager to kill me. I managed land a bite to his hind leg and hobbled away. I had lost a lot of blood and was mostly delirious. In that state, I crossed the highway and broke into a chicken coop. I had changed into a human by the time Ralph and Mel found me. She likes to say she thought I had escaped from a ward or a cult."

"You know, I had somewhat thought you had been pulling my leg earlier," Stefa mused. "But you really were born a little wolf pup in a real pack? That's why you're so strange?"

"I don't think I'm so strange," I protested. "I don't understand why werewolves have to be so bloodthirsty. No offense."

"None taken," she said with a laugh and then groaned, holding her side again.

"Is there anything I can do?" I worried.

"Just keep talking," she said. "I don't get the luxury of falling asleep, but hopefully they'll take pity on me and we'll have dinner soon."

I listened with my wolf ears, hoping to catch the sound of someone heading this way. So far: nothing.

"I had never heard the term werewolf until four months ago," I continued. "Before that, I just assumed I was an anomaly all to my own. My family treated me as if I was normal, though obviously we knew I was not. I helped around the farm and they trusted me."

"I notice that your pack and your family are different people," Stefa said.

"My family was human. Pack, in my mind, means wolves."

"Was?"

I sighed, running my hands through Stefa's hair to untangle the matted pieces. I wanted to know what had happened to her, but she had already deflected twice.

"They were turned," I said. "Because I had refused to join a werewolf pack. I was arrested before their first full moon; I don't know how they're doing..."

"They're doing fine," Stefa told me firmly. "They're up in Montana, farming and wearing bandanas or whatever farmers do, and they live their lives normally for most of the month."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Because you've taken arguably the worst situation a werewolf could find himself in, and you've survived. You learned it from them, yes?"

She coughed again, and I tried to readjust my position so she could breathe better.

"I shouldn't let you talk," I admitted. "I'm not a very good nursemaid."

"We can't all be perfect," Stefa managed with a half smile.

___

So... this seems suspiciously bad. Stefa is handling it well though. Thanks for reading!