Cry Wolf (18 page)

Kelly sipped her coffee. “You’re not wrong. Some of it wasn’t your fault.”

“No, it was. Like you said—if it’s true—the beast is me. And I’ve got to admit I’m not always the most pleasant person to be around. Even when I wasn’t a beast,” Malcolm said.

“I don’t expect you to be able to control yourself right out of the gate,” Kelly said.

“And when should I expect to be able to control myself?” Malcolm asked.

“Depends on the person,” Kelly said. “It can take up to a year for the average new wolf. According to Ki, you were the quiet, solitary, brooding type before, which I
can’t
imagine at all. That usually means you internalize deep conflicts under those still waters, and the wolf just doesn’t let you do that. Marvel at my armchair psychology.”

“I don’t like to share my problems,” Malcolm said. “But lately it’s been really hard not to.”

“I understand, believe me.”

“Then you understand why I’ve got to go to see this man.”

Kelly lowered her mug. “You mean you need to go see the Father to cleanse your soul?”

Malcolm hid his eyes behind his hand. “Yeah. You know, when you say it like that…”

“It’s what he calls himself,” Kelly said. “You know this is complete quackery.”

“Probably.”

“This place can’t cure you. If there was magic that could cure lycanthropy, I’d probably have heard about it from any number of the covens I talked with,” Kelly said.

“Look,” Malcolm said, “I know it’s the stupidest thing in the world.”

“What about that description is attractive? There are ‘massive cult’ red flags all over it. It’s like a cross between a pyramid scheme and a Great Awakening revival.”

“I need to try,” Malcolm said, not meeting her eyes. His voice was low, as though he loathed having to say it.

“No,” Kelly said. “No, you don’t.”

Kelly swallowed a few gulps of her coffee and put it on the windowsill behind her then crawled forward in the bed so that he couldn’t look away from her.

“I wasn’t too bad as a kid,” she said. “Most of the stuff that went down back then was dismissed as bad luck by people who didn’t have to live with me. But my parents did have to live with me, so they got to see the pattern. They got to thinking that I was possessed or that there was some kind of poltergeist haunting me. They took me to these tent revivals. I don’t even know how they found out about them, but I guess when you’re desperate enough, you’ll find whatever you need to find. We drove all over the country, wherever the faith healers and the amateur exorcists advertised their services.

“I had a lot of hands placed on me, a lot of ‘in the name of Jesus, I cast you outs,’ a lot of dunking into rivers, a few vials of snake oil. Not one of them managed to scare me straight. The magic stayed right where it wanted to stay, and Mom and Dad always brought me back more and more discouraged every time, several hundred dollars more in debt.

“I’m telling you this,” Kelly said, “because there will always be someone claiming they can fix you. But lycanthropy, like my magic, can’t be fixed. As long as you prolong this delusion that it can, you’re going to be as abjectly miserable as I was for a good portion of my life.”

“But you want to be a werewolf,” Malcolm said. “If you didn’t, would you be willing to go?”

“Don’t assume I’d choose this life if it were up to me,” Kelly replied. “If I could shed the wolf skin and about ninety-five per cent of the magic, then maybe I’d feel better. But right now, I’m at peace with the fact that not everyone gets to choose everything about their life. It’s like that prayer on what you can change and what you can’t and knowing which one is which.”

Malcolm put a hand on her knee over the blankets.

“You have your history and I have mine,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it sometime. One trip. That’s all I’m asking. If it turns out to be a dud, we can come back and I’ll start figuring out how to live with this. And I’d like you to come with me, not Ki and Max.”

“Why me?” Kelly asked. It was a full question, given that Salvation was the kind of place that Malcolm had already heard gave her bad memories—not to mention Kelly had made it perfectly clear she was trying to help Malcolm get used to his werewolf, not get rid of it.

“More selfishness,” Malcolm said sheepishly.

Kelly peered at him then laughed. “You don’t just want another werewolf on hand to keep you from wolfing out on the people there. You want someone to protect
you
. You want a magical bodyguard in case something goes wrong on that end.”

“Guilty as charged. What can I say, Miss Kelly? You’re a formidable woman,” Malcolm said.

“Don’t I know it,” Kelly said. “Well, flattery doesn’t get you everywhere.”

Malcolm took her hand this time, engulfed it in his much larger one. “Please. One trip. You can rib me as much as you want on the way there and even more on the way back, since it’s probably a scam.”

Kelly sighed. She didn’t need prophecy to know that this was a bad idea. As a matter of fact, the first prophetic warnings were stirring in her stomach like awakened butterflies.

“And if I tell you that this will end badly?” Kelly asked. “With dead certainty that this is a place we don’t want to be going?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Malcolm replied. “I couldn’t even shut my eyes. I kept imagining what it would be like if it worked and wondering if I was missing my chance.”

He implored her, holding tightly to her hand in a silent plea.

“I’m going to regret this,” Kelly said. “And being prophetic, I’m in the unique position of being able to guarantee that.”

“Thank you,” Malcolm said, kissing the back of her hand with disarming earnestness. “Thank you.”

“So, we’re heading to Salvation to ask the Father to purge you of lycanthropy,” she said with a sigh.

“Do you have to put it that way?” Malcolm asked.

“What?” Kelly said as she reached for her coffee again. “You do realise those are
their
words, not mine.”

He groaned. “You’re right. I’m going to regret this.”

“But we’re still going.”

“I have to,” he said apologetically.

“I know,” she replied. “And I can’t stop you. I see that now.”

When Malcolm left her trailer, she finished her coffee and absentmindedly stroked Butch Cassidy. Above the nausea rolling about in her stomach, Kelly felt at the brink of a connection, but it eluded her. She wished she could read her mind the way she read other people’s, but it just didn’t work that way.

She shook her head in frustration. There was one thing she was sure of, though.

“Events are set in motion,” she whispered. “God help us.”

Chapter Seven

After being assured several times over that Renee and Britt would take care of Butch Cassidy while she was away, Kelly handed the cat to Renee. She scratched Butch Cassidy’s scarred chin, brushing against his protruding canines. She’d take him along, but he was an outdoor cat, and on this trip he would have to be cooped up for several days in a small trailer, which seemed like a recipe for a small disaster.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him,” Renee said, mostly hiding her amusement. “We took good care of him before you came, you know, and he still tolerates us.”

“I know,” Kelly said. “I’ve just grown to like the munchkin.”

“He has that effect,” Renee said.

“You ever think that the reason we were never able to adopt him out before was because he was waiting for you?” Britt said with a smile. “Don’t worry about him.”

Ki, Max and Malcolm walked out of the log cabin. Ki kissed Malcolm on the cheek, then on the lips, imbuing the gesture with the hope that she and Malcolm shared, a promise of what could be if he returned well. Kelly had to look away. She heard Max clap his hand on Malcolm’s shoulder in the traditional one-armed hug standard these days between men attempting to be stoic. Jake and Leslie came out of the cabin as well and waited on the porch with Ki and Max.

“You want to sit in the truck with me or in the trailer?” Kelly asked.

“Truck,” Malcolm replied, coming up behind Britt and Renee. Malcolm brushed the small of Renee’s back.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Renee said. She was not as good at hiding her scepticism as she was her amusement.

“Me, too. And I’m sorry. I’ve been an absolute monster to you. I was the one who went out to confront Grant. That was my decision,” Malcolm said.

“I hold some of the blame,” Renee said. “It wasn’t right to let Grant stay. But it’s mostly Grant’s fault. I try to remember that.”

“I know. It’s just that Grant’s dead. I can’t kill him again for what he’s done,” Malcolm said.

“I’d let you get a shot in if I could,” Renee said. She flinched a little when Malcolm put his arm around her shoulder, but he’d know that was just a reflex that had nothing to do with him being a werewolf, and she didn’t pull away.

Britt rubbed Malcolm’s upper arm. “Good luck.”

“Thanks. See you all in a few days,” Malcolm said.

They all waved as Malcolm followed Kelly down to the trailer, which was already hooked up to the truck.

“It’s roughly an eight or nine-hour drive,” Kelly said.

She climbed into the driver’s seat, and Malcolm pulled himself into the passenger seat. It was an old pickup. The springs of the seats were a little squeaky, the fabric worn down and the mileage criminal, but it was serviceable, good for a few more years.

“We don’t have to get there tonight,” Malcolm replied. “The service isn’t until Saturday evening.”

“Damn right we don’t have to get there tonight,” Kelly said. “If you think I’m driving eight hours on two hours of sleep, you’ve got another think coming. I need my zees.”

“I got less sleep than you. Believe me, we can break up the trip.”

As they passed the threshold from the dog sanctuary to the concrete road, Damien’s pack stepped out from behind the trees. Malcolm immediately tensed. Kelly put a hand on his knee.

“Thought I smelt you coming closer,” Jada said. “Leaving without saying goodbye?” She was a little calmer than when Kelly had last seen her, so Damien must have reassured her that her position in the pack was secure.

“We’re just going on a little trip,” Kelly replied through the open window.

“How long is a little?” Damien asked. He glanced between Kelly and Malcolm, who couldn’t look at him. Damien narrowed his eyes.

“A few days,” Kelly said. “As soon as we get back, we’ll have an answer for you. Won’t we, Malcolm?”

Malcolm turned his attention to what was outside his window. He nodded.

“Okay, even I know something’s going on,” Tanya said, leaning against Kelly’s door. She peered in at Malcolm. Her black braids swung freely, the beads at the base clinking against the steel. “What’s up, big guy? We scare you?”

“We’re just going to visit a witch doctor to see if he can get the curse reversed,” Kelly said brightly. “Nothing to worry about.”

Jeremy, a somewhat scrawny, sickly-looking man who shaved his head to hide his receding hairline, snorted. “Seriously?”

Damien bared his teeth, but his aggression was more defensive than offensive.

“Wolf not good enough for you?” Damien asked Malcolm. “No wonder you can’t win against me.”

“He used to be shapeshifter,” Kelly said. “Give him a break.”

Damien slowly retreated. Kelly could tell that he understood, but he didn’t show it for Malcolm’s benefit. Damien was proud of his lycanthropy. He wouldn’t be alpha if he weren’t.

“You’re not getting that nonsense done, are you, Kelly?” Lily asked, putting an arm around Tanya’s waist. Against Tanya, her skin seemed light, but against Kelly’s, it was dark.

Kelly touched Lily’s cheek. “You know I wouldn’t do that,” Kelly replied. “I just want to help Malcolm rejoin his pack if he can.”

“Good luck with that,” Jeremy scoffed.

“Back in a few days,” Kelly told Damien.

His body creaked into werewolf shape as Kelly put her car back in drive and Lily and Tanya stepped away.

Malcolm didn’t look back in her direction until they had made it into Antoine and stopped at a Starbucks drive-in. She didn’t have to ask what he wanted or if he wanted anything at all.

“Here,” she said, handing him a mocha latte. “You need this.”

He accepted it without a word, but the trip was less tense after that.

They had made it about four hours and an additional large speciality coffee each before they got tired and restless at the same time. Kelly had Malcolm look up the closest camping site then swung off the interstate for Happy Trails. They asked for a spot closest to the creek, where the trees were denser.

As soon as Kelly had attached her trailer to electricity and water, she and Malcolm checked that none of the people living in the two other RVs were watching then shed their clothes and transformed to hunt along the creek. Kelly made sure that Malcolm never went too far ahead or behind her just in case they got near humans in their farmsteads. She also cut Malcolm off any time he veered towards the cows. She wasn’t morally opposed to raw beef, of course. It would just attract more attention than was necessary.

When they made it back to the trailer, they still had a decent amount of the early evening available.

“Pizza tonight?” Malcolm asked.

“Didn’t we just eat?” Kelly teased. Certain things didn’t cross over from one form to another. For the werewolf, only human kills could completely satisfy in both skins, which was disturbing on so many different levels that Kelly didn’t like to consider it. And she didn’t need to, since she and Malcolm abstained.

“It’s not a road trip without pizza,” Malcolm said.

“Do you want me to call now?” Kelly asked, sitting on the small couch across from the front door, where she had thrown her cellphone. But Malcolm wrapped his hand around her elbow and pulled her to her feet.

“It can wait,” Malcolm said. “I don’t think I’ve finished apologising for being such a dick yesterday. Or offered you any gratitude for joining me on this quest for the Holy fucking Grail.”

“I’m not sure how the Holy Grail would feel about being split by ‘fucking’,” Kelly said.

Malcolm grinned. “Do you realise what you just said?”