It was still dark when I woke. Not only dark, but also colder. The mild weather we’d enjoyed last night while eating outside had apparently fled with the sun. I nestled under the covers, trying to avoid the chill in the air. When I stretched my legs searching for Clay’s weighted warmth, I felt nothing. His spot was cool.
“Clay?”
My bedroom door creaked open, and he jumped up on the mattress, causing it to bounce. He settled on my feet, and his heat immediately warmed me.
“Thanks.”
Laying my head back down on the pillow, I burrowed deeper. The warm nights of summer, of sleeping with the window open, had retired for the year. Soon, going outside during the day would require a jacket. The thought was a little depressing. I didn’t really care for the cold.
I wanted to sleep a little longer and tried to close my eyes again but they popped back open on their own. Clearly awake, I knew I should really get out of bed and do something. Yet, the thought made me cringe...until I remembered I owed Clay for last night. This early, there’d be no one around outside, especially with this first cold snap. We needed to take advantage of the still above freezing weather and do something together. He’d like that.
“Hey, Clay. Wanna go get breakfast with me?”
With a sigh, he jumped back down off the bed.
“You could have said no,” I said with a soft laugh as I rolled out from under the covers.
Grabbing my clothes, I tiptoed to the bathroom. When I reemerged, Clay sat next to the back door, waiting patiently. I glanced at the car keys. Drive or walk? Walking would save money, and I enjoyed it.
“You up for a walk?” I kept my voice low since I didn’t want to wake Rachel.
The idea of walking outside with Clay before dawn made me smile. He looked like a beast. Any sane man would keep his distance. It would be vastly different from the heckling first walk I had taken to campus.
When he didn’t move away, I took that as affirmation and clipped on his leash, loosely looping it around his collar so I wouldn’t need to hold it. He turned to me with a questioning look.
“What? I’m following the law...you’re on a leash. Let’s go.”
I opened the door, and we soundlessly slipped outside. As expected, crisp air engulfed us, but the lack of wind made it tolerable. After pulling the hood up over my loose hair, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and stepped off the porch, suspiciously testing the air to see if my breath clouded. Clay trudged next to me, still looking a little tired.
We walked in the direction of the campus, toward a small diner that was open all day, six days a week, closed Sundays. Well-known on campus, Ma’s Kitchen served good, cheap food for the perpetually broke college kid. With ten dollars in my pocket, I figured we could stuff ourselves before walking back home.
The sidewalks remained empty. Streetlights buzzed overhead. The soft scrape of Clay’s nails on the pavement comforted me, and I filled my lungs, relaxing. Very few cars passed us as we made our way from one pool of light to the next.
The walk to campus offered an eclectic array of buildings. Businesses jumbled in with residences. Some so close together their shadows merged, creating perfect places for hiding. But Clay’s calm presence allowed me to enjoy the walk without using my sight.
We strolled in companionable silence for a few minutes before I spoke up.
“So what do you like for breakfast? Oatmeal?” He laughed, and I smiled back. “Yeah, I was thinking you’re more a steak and eggs kinda guy.”
“Who you talking to dar’lin?” a man called as he stepped out from the shadows across the narrow street. His sudden appearance made my heart race.
“My dog.” Even though I considered this area safe, it paid to be smart. So I whispered to Clay, asking him to bark. He obliged with a deep “woof” that almost scared me. The sound bounced off the surrounding buildings. I hoped it wouldn’t wake anyone.
“Damn,” the man called back, keeping pace with us on the opposite sidewalk. “That thing on a leash?”
“Yep, but there’s no holding him back. I’m safer letting him go or he’d just drag me along.”
The man laughed. “I bet. Have a good morning,” he called before turning at the next corner to walk around the block.
“You trust that?” I asked Clay, watching the man’s retreating form. Clay harrumphed.
“Me neither. And thanks for warning me there was someone close by,” I said. He made a noise I interpreted between a snort and a laugh.
“Brat.” I smiled down at him.
Night sounds began to fade, and I heard the occasional bird call out, though dawn was still an hour away. Clay continued to pace alertly by my side until we reached the diner. Judging from the empty parking lot, they didn’t get much business this early. Still, the air outside smelled like frying breakfast sausage. Delicious. Beside me, Clay’s stomach rumbled.
“Since they don’t allow dogs, I’ll go in and get our food for carryout,” I said, pulling open the door. He obediently sat just outside, the position enabling him to watch me through the glass.
When I entered, the waitress set down the basket of jellies she’d been using to refill the jelly holders on the tables and moved to the register.
“Good morning,” she said with a chipper smile. “How are you this morning?”
Wow. A people-person and a morning-person. I weakly smiled back and ordered.
As soon as I had our breakfast, I brought it out to Clay. We sat together on one of the cement parking blocks in front of the building. The early-morning traffic crept along quietly, keeping the illusion of solitude.
I opened his container and started to cut up his steak. He laughed at me again, and I shushed him. He could laugh all he wanted. He usually ate so fast I worried he’d choke. I set his container on the ground for him when I finished. He dug in, making it hard to think of him as a man.
“I hope you’re a slower eater when you’re in your skin,” I commented.
He stopped eating and looked at me. Too late, I realized how critical my comment had sounded. I tried to soften it.
“It’s just that you eat faster than me. That’s all.” It sounded lame.
I felt worse when he made an effort to eat slower. He still finished first. In an attempt to make up for my thoughtless comment, I offered him the rest of my breakfast, too. When he finished, I threw our containers away in the parking lot trash can.
We began the long walk back, with each of us lost in our own thoughts. Well, I was lost in mine, anyway. I didn’t know what to say to take away the sting from my words. Why didn’t I think before I spoke to him? I sometimes forgot about the man beneath the fur and tended just to talk, letting anything flow from my mouth without much thought. Sure, I may have meant what I said, but I could have found a better, nicer, way to say it. Maybe.
Distracted and dwelling on my own thoughts, I paid no attention to my surroundings until Clay began to growl. My head snapped up in surprise at the soft, menacing sound. Clay stopped walking. His head turned so he watched the space between two houses on our left. Dawn still hadn’t lightened the sky, so I saw nothing but shadows.
I closed my eyes and focused, depending on my other sight—something I’d mostly ignored since coming to school—to see what my eyes couldn’t. The yellow-green sparks of the people in the houses around us glowed softly. To the left, closing in fast, a blue-grey light surged. Stunned, I blinked at it and glanced at Clay’s spark. Blue-grey compared to his blue-green. Another color variation?
“What is it, Clay?” I whispered, taking a cautious step back. The colors I saw classified into werewolves, humans, and anomalies like Charlene and I. This new color moved too fast for a human.
Clay remained alert to the other werewolf’s advance.
“What should I do, Clay?” I tried not to panic, but I could think of only one reason a werewolf would run at us like that. It wanted to challenge Clay.
If I walked away, it would think I was rejecting Clay’s Claim. As much as I didn’t want to Claim Clay, I didn’t want a tie to anyone else.
Clay’s growl increased in volume. I looked at the darkened houses around us. Perhaps I could use them to our advantage.
Clay tensed in front of me. I retreated a few more paces until I stepped into the road, no more than five feet from Clay. The faint, rapid thud of the werewolf’s paws hitting the ground resonated from the darkness ahead. I tracked its spark. It sped forward. Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of its approach stopped even though its spark continued toward us.
Clay braced himself. In that moment, an enormous object soared at us from the darkness. I scrambled back. Its large body rivaled Clay for size. But, it was the newcomer’s dark grey fur and bright blue eyes that forever burned into my memory.
The flying mass hit Clay hard. Clay let loose an aggressive snarl as he twisted, and worked to keep his back legs under him. His claws dug into the asphalt, scraping and scrabbling to slow the skid toward me. The two werewolves grappled, swiping claws and snapping jaws.
Eyes wide, I continued to maintain my view of the human sparks while watching the fight before me. Focused on each other, neither looked my way.
The challenger scuttled out of Clay’s reach and regained his own footing. Clay lunged forward and snapped down on the other’s muzzle. His sharp teeth ripped into tender flesh. I wanted to cheer when the other werewolf yelped in pain. They broke apart. Clay continued to growl. The low rumble made my heart beat even faster. The challenger responded with his own snarl but didn’t attempt another attack. Instead, he sidestepped, looking for an opening.
I moved with them and maintained a small distance from both.
The noise escalated as they stalked each other. The challenger feinted toward Clay, lips drawn back and teeth parted. My heart beat harder with fear. Clay gave no ground, carefully keeping himself between the newcomer and me, while I tried to stay out of the way. The dogs in the neighborhood started to bark. The continued use of my sight began to strain me, but I saw a spark moving in a nearby house.
Time to take the offensive.
“Hey!” I yelled loudly.
Clay didn’t jump, but the other werewolf did. His bright blue gaze flicked to me. A light turned on in the house.
“Whose dog is this? Someone help me get him off my dog!” Another light went on in the house.
Clay took advantage of his opponent’s momentary distraction and went for its throat. The other wolf dodged the attack, but just barely. Bleeding freely from Clay’s first strike, red began to color its muzzle.
With a deep-throated bark, it lunged again at Clay, refocusing its efforts. The lunge caught Clay in the shoulders and almost knocked him off balance. I forgot to breathe for a moment. Clay exposed his neck in an attempt to bite his opponent’s front leg rather than to spin away and leave me unprotected.
The other wolf grunted in pain as Clay’s teeth clamped down. Still, he went for the opening. His teeth clicked against the metal that studded Clay’s collar. The wolf growled, pulled back, and made to try again. Clay quickly released his hold on the wolf’s leg and backed away, as did his limping adversary.
Clay’s leash unraveled from its coiled pile under his collar and trailed in his wake. The other werewolf noticed it, moved forward, and attempted to step on it. Brown fur ruffled as Clay twisted sharply to flip the leash out of the way.
I looked around, trying to figure out how to stop this. In the houses closest to the fight, more lights burst on. In the house across the street, someone pushed back a curtain to peer out.
Behind me, I heard a shrill whistle. “Duke! Come here, Duke.”
The neighborhood was waking.
This time, the sudden interruption didn’t distract either of them. Both maintained focus on their opponent. This had to stop now before Clay got hurt.
“The noise has everyone waking up, whoever you are,” I said. “You don’t have enough time to finish this. It’d be better to leave now when Clay won’t be able to chase you. Someone’s going to call the police, and when they get here, they’ll see a dog that’s neither licensed nor leashed. You’ll either have to change and expose yourself, or let them take you away thinking you’re a dog.”
The challenger continued his circling attack as if I hadn’t spoken.
The front door of the house closest to us opened and a man shined a flashlight at the fighting dogs, then at me.
“Can you help me?” I called, my voice purposely coming out high-pitched and fearful. “Do you know whose dog this is? It came running at my dog from the direction of your backyard.”
“It’s not ours. Want me to call the police?” he yelled over the snarls and growls.
I didn’t get a chance to answer. The grey werewolf broke away from the fight and bolted back into the darkness from where he’d come. Apparently, he had heard my warning.
Clay, panting heavily, stayed close to me and watched the other wolf retreat. The challenger conceded with his withdrawal. For now.
“Did you see what kind of dog it was?” the man called as he left the safety of his house to look at his side yard where the wolf had disappeared. He cautiously shined his flashlight to search for it.
I let out a shaky, thankful laugh, knelt beside Clay, and wrapped my arms around his neck. My hands shook, the strain and fear taking their toll, as I ran my hands over the area around his collar. I didn’t find any injuries. Relieved, I leaned against him. He really was growing on me.
“Ma’am? You okay?”
The man pointed his flashlight at us but stayed near his house. Any closer and he’d feel the pull. I didn’t need to deal with any more problems. Across the street, a door opened, distracting the man.
“They okay, Mike?”
I lifted my head from Clay. “You okay?” I whispered.
He turned his head and licked my cheek, reassuring me.
“Next time I’ll just carry the leash,” I promised. My eyes watered. It had been too close. It would have only been a matter of time before the other wolf would have pinned him because of it.
“We’re okay,” I said as I stood. I kept a hand on Clay’s head. “The dog was as big as Clay here but had dark grey fur.”
“Doesn’t sound like any dog from this neighborhood, but I know there are some big dogs a few blocks away. Do you want me to call the cops?” The man started toward us.
I picked up Clay’s loose leash and nudged him to get him moving.
“Nah. I think we’re fine,” I said taking a step back. Too late. The man had gotten close enough that the pull had him. I saw the interest in his eyes.
After a few moments reassuring him that neither of us had suffered injuries and that police involvement was no longer necessary, I grudgingly gave him my phone number just in case anyone had called the cops and they showed up. Clay remained quiet and unusually calm throughout the conversation.
Crisis averted, we hurried home. I didn’t talk. Instead, I concentrated on scanning with my second sight. I pushed to see further than ever before, and it drained me. My legs grew heavier with each step. I tried not to let it show.
While I scanned, so did Clay. His eyes missed nothing, and he constantly scented the air.
The sun cleared the surrounding rooftops, and its bright rays lit the sidewalk. My hurried walk degraded to a plodding step somewhere along the way, and it took us much longer to get home. No further sign of that weird light reappeared during the rest of the walk.
Because I watched my shuffling feet as we retraced our steps to the back door, I didn’t see Rachel standing on the porch.
“There you are!”
My hand flew to Clay’s thick mane at the same time my heart skipped a beat. The scare distracted me from my second sight, and it snapped closed at my loss of focus. I struggled to reopen it but a sudden pain in my head stopped my attempt. I’d done too much.
“Nice morning for a walk,” she said, moving toward us to pet Clay.
I unclenched my fingers from his fur, not wanting her to notice my death grip. She fingered one of his ears. He shook off her touch. She laughed and bent to kiss the top of his head. He endured the kiss but rolled his eyes at me. Some of my tension melted at their antics. He appeared more relaxed, too.
“I made a call this morning and can get him into the vet for his shots,” she said as she tugged the leash from my loose grasp. “I figured after the way he acted last night, we should have him current...just in case.”
It took a moment for what she said to click. My stunned gaze dropped to Clay. He calmly met my eyes, not giving any indication what he thought of her announcement. I looked back at Rachel. I didn’t know what to say.
“You okay, Gabby?” She looked at me with concern.
No. Not okay. What had started as a nice thank you breakfast for Clay had turned into a dog fight. And now she wanted to take him to the vet? He didn’t deserve that. Besides, after the attack, would he be willing to leave me? Wait. Could a vet figure out he wasn’t really a dog? I tried to contain my panic.
“Uh, I didn’t budget for it,” I blurted, hoping at the very least to put the visit off until I talked to Sam about the risks.
“Don’t worry.” Rachel untangled his leash. “I can cover it for now, and you can pay me back.”
“Let’s all go.” The words popped out of my mouth before I thought about it. What good would that do? Did I think I could block the vet from touching Clay? Rachel would definitely know something was up, then.
“No offense, Gabby, but you look like hell. I think you’d be better off with some quiet time. Don’t worry; we’ll be fine.” She tried to pull Clay toward the garage again, but he didn’t move with her.
Instead, he nudged me toward the back door, almost knocking me off balance. Rachel tugged on his leash and scolded him, but he ignored her and stayed focused on me.
“Would you mind giving him your standard pep talk? I don’t know why he only listens to you. I’m the one that feeds him treats.” She handed the leash over to me. I rubbed my forehead still unsure what he wanted me to do.
“Is it safe for you?” I breathed in his ear as I bent to give him a hug.
He snorted, which I took as a yes. Did he want me to stay here, then?
“I’m so sorry about this. I’ll need to call Sam and let him know what happened.”
I straightened, looked him in the eye, and smoothed the fur on his head. “It’s your choice.” I dropped the leash and stepped back.
He gave me a long look as Rachel moved to open the car door. He sighed then followed her.
“The control you have over him is weird but cool,” Rachel said as he jumped into the back seat.
Control? I didn’t have any control over him. He only listened when I threatened to kick him out of my room or leave him behind.
“Yeah. Just don’t be gone too long. He’ll get upset.”
“The vet’s just a few minutes from here. We should be back soon.” She climbed behind the wheel, closed the door, and rolled down her window.
I couldn’t believe we were actually doing this. What did a vet usually check for? Shots...Age...Neuter... Crap, crap, crap! The engine roared to life.
“Just don’t have him neutered! Or anything that involves blood or blood work. It’s expensive, and I promised him he’d keep his jewels.” Oh how I wished those words back when Clay started to make an odd coughing noise. I could only assume it was his version of laughter. I really needed to start filtering what I said.
Rachel swiveled to check on Clay. “Maybe we should have the vet check his lungs.”
“He’s fine. Think cost,” I said from the deck as she backed out of the driveway.
I went inside and immediately called Sam to let him know about the attack. He assured me of my safety, but I wasn’t worried about that. Paul and Henry had long ago educated me in regard to challenge etiquette. A challenge questioned Clay’s right to me. If present, I needed to stay near him to show my support of his right. Fleeing rejected him. Though rejecting him sounded tempting on the surface, doing so would put me back into the eligible pool. I didn’t want that.
Sam said he would let Elder Joshua know about the attack, too. He also felt certain the challenger wouldn’t try again anytime soon given the extent of his injuries.
A werewolf’s tough hide deflected many things that could damage human skin. What it couldn’t deflect, it reduced in severity. A knife could still cut a werewolf, for example, but not lethally like it could me. On top of the nearly impenetrable skin, nature also threw in a phenomenally fast healing process. A shallow cut would knit together in less than an hour, with no scar visible in less than a day. However, injuries from another werewolf tended to take twice as long to heal. Still faster than a human’s, however.
Talking to Sam helped settle my nerves. Though the werewolf’s odd light still bothered me, I couldn’t bring it up. I’d never shared the details of my ability with Sam. However, I did almost bring up the vet visit. Only Clay’s willingness to go had me keeping it to myself at the last minute. I felt guilty enough and didn’t need to add a lecture to it.
Before I hung up, Sam reminded me that challenges weren’t unheard of and that I had no reason to worry, yet. I agreed, and neither of us said what I already knew. Challenges occurred when more than one werewolf became interested in the same potential Mate and the potential in question didn’t have a preference. So, the challenge was my fault.
* * * *
An hour and a half later, I had showered, scrubbed the kitchen floor, and vacuumed every room in the house in an effort to keep myself awake.
At the sound of Rachel’s car in the driveway, I ran through the house and out the back door. Rachel parked the car in front of the garage and smiled at me. I leaned over the porch railing in an effort to see into the back of the car. I spotted Clay lying on the back seat with his head down. He didn’t look up at me.
Rachel opened her door.
“How’d it go?” I said, trying to sound indifferent.
“He took it like a champ.” She opened the back car door for Clay. He lifted his head and stood with obvious effort. Then he hopped down with care and pathetically climbed the deck steps to my side. I stared at him for a moment.
“What’d they do to him?”
Rachel shook her head and closed the door.
“He wasn’t acting like this when we left. I swear. I think he’s hamming it up for you.” She patted Clay’s head with a laugh.
He accepted the pat with a defeated grunt, stopped hobbling, and started to walk with his usual gait. I heaved a relieved sigh. He looked up at me and winked. I quickly checked to see if Rachel had noticed, but she had already walked away from us and into the house. I shook my head at him before we followed Rachel in.
“So what shots did he get?” I poured some orange juice from the refrigerator and took a drink to keep myself busy. Clay’s eyes never left me.
“Just rabies. The vet had a hard time determining his age by his teeth, but thought him to be in his prime.”
I choked on my juice.
“That’s great,” I managed to gasp out as I glanced at Clay.
A small smug smile curled his lips. I needed to find a nice way to tell him his wolfie smile looked creepy.
“Hey, while I was waiting for him, Peter called. He said he had a good time last night and hoped Scott hadn’t ruined his chance by coming on too strong. He’s never seen Scott act in any way but smooth. He naturally thinks Scott’s falling hard for you.”
Both Clay and I gawked at her. I know my jaw had dropped a little and wondered if Clay’s had done the same.
“I’m just repeating.” She held up her hands with a laugh at my expression. “Anyway, Peter said Scott’s already been bugging him about getting your number to set up another date. Given what you told me, I said no, that last night was just a friendly get together and that you were seeing someone else.”
Clay’s gusty sigh of relief competed with mine. We’d been through enough today. Okay, fine, he’d had to go through all of it while I just stood by. But still...the stress of it, along with the overuse of my sight, wore me out.
Looking down at him, I realized how much I didn’t mind having him there. We’d at least become friends of sorts. But I worried I treated him unfairly by allowing him to hang around. Would that mislead him to think our relationship might grow to more than friendship? I hoped not. If he ever thought I asked too much, he could always walk away.
“You know, sometimes that dog creeps me out with how human he acts,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “Anyway, I’m going to meet up with Peter for another try at a date. We’re going to see a movie, and this time, I’m not asking you to come with.” She had a huge smile on her face as she walked past us toward her room.
“Thank you!” I called to her retreating form.