Wolverton - Julie Steimle (fb2 epub reader .TXT) 📗

a way. But he didn’t want to be plowed down by a pack of she-wolves in heat if he dared let go of her hand. Besides, he kind of liked being next to her. Daisy smelled nice, and she didn’t paw him all over. 

“I want my pants back,” Rick said to Tola when he saw her, assuming she had been one who had taken them. Even if she hadn’t been, she was the first wolf to introduce herself, and in his mind that made her the ringleader.

But Tola winked at him, propping up her bra-less chest and making herself look more provocative. “What will you exchange to get them back?”

He groaned, shaking his head. “Why is every girl in this town so…?”

“Horny?” one of the boys called out, cackling.

A cluster of them snickered watching Rick seriously squirm. The girls he knew and grew up with had a certain sense of self-respect, even the witches who sometimes were a little looser than the other gals.

“It’s the full moon.” Daisy shrugged it off as if it didn’t matter. She then called to Tola, “You should give them back. They’re not yours.”

Several of the girls made faces at her, especially Diana and Summer who were staring at her with the horrified realization that Daisy had hid Rick from them.

“Spoils of war, sweetie,” Tola bit out, her eyes like slits on Daisy, her teeth clenched. Her eyes stared at Rick like someone yearning for a bite of him.

Moaning, Rick muttered as Daisy gently dragged him away from the ladies to a porch across the way, “How is it that she-wolves can get catty?”

One of the boys nearby busted up, nodding. “Good one!”

Daisy took them to a swinging bench, gesturing for him to sit.

“We can watch the party preparation from here,” she said.

It was better than hiding under the porch in the pungent dirt. The view was definitely better.

The village in front of them moved about in preparation for the bonfire that evening. Several of the men carried over logs and wood planks to be burned. Mac Ulfur was among them. Rick wondered where they got all that wood from as there was a lot of it and it looked like old two-by-fours. Perhaps they were tearing down some old houses. He had noticed walking through the place that not all the homes were occupied. He also noticed people hauling barrels of water, just in case the bonfire got out of control.

“So what exactly is this bonfire, festival, moon rite about? How did it start?” Rick finally asked, his curiosity killing him as more and more people carried wood past him.

“Other packs don’t do this?” Daisy asked, scooting nearer to him. She intertwined her fingers in his for a more comfortable grip. It felt nice.

He shook his head, watching the scene before him. Her sweet smell so close also made him want to breathe in deep. He was feeling more relaxed on the swing, his heart beating in a rhythm almost like a march. It was a bit like being at a parade, actually. The entire feel of the moment. Little children were cheering and running around. The elderly were watching and calling to friends from the sidelines. He expected floats and fireworks next.

“Well,” she said, leaning a little closer to him so she didn’t not have to talk so loud, “I’m not sure when the tradition started. But we believe that being a wolf is something to be celebrated. And the nights of the hunt are sacred to us.”

“Sacred…” Rick shook his head. The hunts had always been hell for him. There was always pain. Even humans he had cared about had died during the hunt, killed by the hunters after him.

“We protect the three nights of the hunt from anything outside the pack and light a bonfire in celebration.” Daisy squeezed his hand, resting her head on his shoulder. “Usually we have a barbecue post hunt. But also for the very young and for the elderly we have a small hunt with easier kills. ”

“Are humans invited to this hunt?” Rick asked, wondering about Kurt’s mother.

Daisy cringed as if the mention of human interfering was painful. “Not usually. I mean, they can stand by and carry the very young to the hunt, but as they are not wolves themselves they can’t participate.”

“Not even for barbecue?” Rick asked.

She laughed, shaking her head. “I suppose that would be ok… but most of them don’t really want to come.”

He sighed, thinking she was probably right. One time his friends had crashed one of his hunts—but only because his mischievous half-imp roommate Tom Brown had dragged them out to the YMCA to watch. Rick knew his human friends had been thoroughly disgusted from all the blood. And honestly, he didn’t like them seeing him with the blood of his kill on his face, even though they were used to his wolf transformations.

“How many humans are in this town?” Rick wondered aloud.

Angling her head to peer at him, Daisy asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“My mother was human,” Rick murmured. “So was my grandmother.”

Daisy’s eyes stared with doe-like wonder. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I take after my Grandfather Richardson with my hair and eye color. The rest of me is like Dad. Though, a lot of people say my personality is more like my human grandfather. Apparently he was a little troublemaker when he was kid too.”

Daisy laughed. “You? A troublemaker?”

Shrugging Rick chuckled over it. He wasn’t one so much now. But his father was a well-mannered wolf, and he was extremely ADHD sometimes. He didn’t like sitting still.

“Anyway,” Daisy continued, going back to topic, “During the festival we usually divide by age group. Younger wolves hunt with the older wolves—mostly the pups getting trained up. But wolves like us who are no longer children yet are not attached to someone or engaged in anyway, participate in the bonfire rite.”

Nodding, Rick sighed. “Yeah… I heard about that.”

“Really?” Daisy leaned back and looked at him. “And what did they say?”

Scratching the side of his head, Rick said, “I heard… Well, this one guy Wilk MacTire said—”

“My brother?” Daisy laughed. It was so cute.

But her words were like a slap of reality. “Your brother?” Rick blushed and almost let go of her hand.

But she hung on, pulling him close with warning, and shook her head at him. “Don’t worry. He is a priest in charge of leading the rite. If he told you about it, it is correct.”

But that wasn’t what worried him. Her brother Wilk might get a funny notion in his head if he saw them sitting together holding hands, and he liked the guy. He didn’t want to give him a misleading message.

“Well, he said, uh,” Rick blushed. “Girls stand on one side and boys stand on the other and there is a thing where you wait for the wolf who makes the first change. And the first changer leads the hunt or something.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Well that’s male brevity for you….”

“There is more to it, I suppose,” Rick murmured, wondering if she was criticizing Wilk or him.

Daisy rose, peering out toward the wood tower they were building. Rising, she said, “Come with me. Let me explain exactly how it works and what it all means.” She led him off the porch, going down the steps, guiding him by the hand. Turning around with a playful smile, she added, “And even what it can do for you.”

With a shrug, Rick willingly followed. As he went with her, a funny notion came into his head. Why stay all the way out at Newsom Springs when he could spend the month here in Wolverton? After all the mess at the factory gets straightened out, he could just spend his free time in this town—maybe stay at Kurt’s house. Or another place. He never really had a safe peaceful summer anywhere, except maybe when he went to Gulinger Private Academy in New York. But it wasn’t really a summer break. They had structured summer camp in Long Island. But here… here he could just spend a day with the boys. Or with Daisy. He could go swimming in that pond when it got hot. He could date a girl he actually liked. Maybe actually fall in love, one of those summer romances that was in the movies. And he could be among wolves for once. Shivers ran up his arms as he thought over this, hand in hand with Daisy.  

She led him toward the square where they were building the bonfire. They ignored the watching locals, taking it slow.

“Each night of the hunt is a celebration,” Daisy explained, her voice like music. “And they are each a little different. The first night celebrates the coming of the full moon….” Rick listened, feeling around him the bustle of the party atmosphere as she explained. The aromas coming from the stirred up ash from the fire the night before were lifting into the air and mingling with the alluring smell that was coming off of Daisy. He could smell her sweat in the hot sun, which was actually kind of delicious. The wolf part of him wanted to lick it up, but he restrained himself. He could also smell the insect balm on his skin and hers, fragrant and relaxing. The sounds around them were of children’s laughter, sprinklers running to damp the lawns in preparation for the bonfire, the chatter of the older wolves exchanging old town words of comradery. The laughter of boys playing not far away on the Lot, and girls giggling as they played games together carried like bells. It was entrancing, and so peaceful. It was nothing like his hometown where he was always on guard for witches snatching at his hair, or trying to harass him. He realized for the first time that he had never been relaxed. He had never felt entirely safe. Until now.

He didn’t exactly take in every word Daisy was saying, which he was a little embarrassed by. But her voice was so soft and musical, like a lullaby, that it was hard sometimes to focus. Her words were kind and comforting besides. The content, he summed up in just a few thoughts anyway. The full moon rites were mostly an esoteric thing. He wouldn’t have been surprised if they set out salt crystals and played sitars, ringing bells in the background. Daisy also explained that some of the elders did believe in a moon goddess, but not all of the pack did. It was like a town with fundamentalist Christians at the core, and their more secular, crystal wearing relatives who liked the ideas, teachings, and benefits of Christianity, but didn’t actually adhere to the doctrine. Likewise all these wolves were in the same community, but many were casual believers who mostly enjoyed the lifestyle.

Wilk saw them as they strolled by and smirked.

“Well, well, well,” Wilk approached them in long strides.

Rick tried to hide their hands behind his back, but didn’t let go.

“No, no, no” Wilk held up his hands, grinning. “Don’t be embarrassed. She’s saving you from the mob, isn’t she?”

Sighing with relief, Rick nodded and let their hands swing freely between them again.

Daisy grinned, beaming really.

“Well, I approve!” Wilk said, then he leaned near Rick and asked, “So does this mean you are coming to the bonfire?”

Cringing, Rick shrugged. “I’m still thinking about it.”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. You can always hunt with the elderly,” Wilk suggested with a hint of mockery. “Not that it will be as fun…”

“I’m sure.” Rick laughed, shaking his head as he knew Wilk had left out important details on the field. “Only I hear a report that the bonfire gathering is done in the nude.”

Wilk grinned then winked at his sister. “I suppose somebody had to tell you.”

Rick’s face felt hot, especially under the pressure of expectant stares, waiting for him to say ‘yes’. His face going pink, Rick shook his head. “I just don’t know.”

Shrugging, Wilk went