Toy Wolf

Chapter 30: drunken cowboys

Grant and I spent the trip back concocting a believable story to bring back to his father. It was a task that we could focus on, rather than the innumerous question that existed between us.

"In conclusion: it was a couple drunk cowboys mistaking a coyote for a wolf and then running through a barbed wire fence to get the scratches and scraps on their truck and person," Grant said. "We've gone over it so much, I feel like I believe this story. I wish it were true. I had no idea you were a part of a pack like that. What happened?"

"To us?" I replied. "Ralph and Mel believe that we have to learn control rather than just letting ourselves be overwhelmed by our wolf side. We don't eat humans and we farm in the meantime."

"And that works?" he asked. "Just believing that you're in control?"

"No, it takes work," I replied. "But just because it's hard doesn't mean it's impossible."

Of course, for me, it wasn't nearly as difficult. I had no trouble with my wolf side, but that was the half of myself I understood the best.

"A pack reflects their alpha," I continued. "Ralph and Mel are very stern about control."

"And controlling you," he noted. "Three days is not much time. Do you have a plan?"

I shook my head. I had the beginnings of a plan, but knew that I would need to talk to Stefa. I was worried I couldn't do this bloodlessly, thought I was desperate to keep as many people alive as possible. Stefa would care less, but perhaps she had some better suggestions.

"Even so, I'm glad we got of the manor," Grant told me. "And I'm sorry for earlier this week. You're right; we have experimented on you like you weren't a person."

"I'm sorry I threw you against a wall," I replied with a bit of a grin.

Grant grimaced. "Just when I thought I was getting stronger, you pin me in two minutes flat. I was so pissed."

"You're still human," I pointed out.

"For now," I heard him sigh.

It was nearly midnight when we pulled up the drive. People were waiting for us, Mr. Danube being the foremost.

"You should have called," he said as we stepped out of the car.

"It was stupid," Grant replied, sounding grumpy. "Involving drunks, barbed wire and a coyote. I don't really want to talk about it right now. I want to sleep on a bed that isn't lumpy and eat food without being called a queer. New Mexico blows."

"You're the one who wanted to leave," Mr. Danube pointed out.

"Yup, and you're the one who let me," Grant replied. "Is the interrogation over?"

He reached into the back of the car and grabbed his bag, slinging it over one shoulder. He headed up the steps past his father.

"Grant, turn in your gun," Mr. Danube called.

Grant muttered something under his breath, pulling the gun out of its holster and handing it to his father. I followed him as he stormed into the house. Stefa was balanced on the bannister railing, though she hopped down when I came in.

"You aren't dead," she said. "I'm glad. How was the trip? Did you two bond?"

"Bond?" I asked.

"Become friends?" she clarified.

"I think so," I said, looking up at Grant who rolled a shoulder.

"We'll see soon, won't we?" he answered a bit cryptically. "I'm going to bed. Good night."

Stefa and I made our way to her room, where I stretched out on her long couch, resting my head in Stefa's lap.

"My pack came for me," I said. "They were the ones starting the rumors, trying to goad the hunters into coming and then leading them to my location."

"Why don't you sound happy?" she inquired, pulling her fingers through my hair.

"Because I don't know how to escape without leaving Grant," I said. "I know I was mad at him earlier, but...we did talk over the drive. He doesn't fit in anywhere any more. He doesn't know what to do. That's how I feel all the time."

"Then you need to let him turn," she said. "This half-humanity is not doing him any favors. He's lying to himself if he things he can keep this up for the rest of time. You can't babysit him forever."

"I don't know how to help him," I said. "And forcing him to turn here means the hunters will kill him, right?"

"Probably," Stefa admitted. "I'll worry about Grant, all right? You take care of everything else and we'll be out of here before the next full moon, okay?"

"We have three days," I replied. "Until my pack comes for me."

Stefa frowned. "Or that. Werewolves are not very patient."

"We've had this discussion before," I laughed. "And Grant confirmed. We've been chipped. They can track us."

Stefa rolled her eyes. "Okay. We'll worry about getting the chips out last. I'll bet," she felt around the base of my head and the back of my neck; "here. You have a rice sized little lump. I can easily carve it out and get my own as well. Do you think they're tracking Grant?"

"I don't know," I remarked. "Why?"

"Things to consider," she replied.

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With a deadline approaching, Conor and Stefa are going to have to do something and soon. Thanks for reading!