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Call of the Hunt Book 4 By Paradox Salem, Indiana, Connors residence "Dad, you are seriously overreacting to this," my father said with an expression that clearly said he was upset. "I'm overreacting?" he cried, throwing up his hands in frustration, "Your daughter was getting ready to practically throw that boy on the ground and screw his brains out!" "Guy!" Mom admonished sharply. "I will not have you talking like that in our house. What Aiden chooses to do with a boy is completely up to her, but I'd like to think we raised our child well enough that she wouldn't have let it go that far, right Aiden?" It was at that point that everyone's eyes swung my way and I wished I could just sink into the floor and disappear. In fact, that was pretty much the prevailing emotional state I had been in every since Grandpa had...interrupted things. When he had caught me trying to remove Henry's tonsils with my tongue in Dad's workshop I'd been caught somewhere in between humiliation and anger that he'd stopped us. The humiliation part, that was perfectly understandable and all me. The other part though, that had been the wolf inside me. While Henry hadn't exactly displayed a tremendous deal of dominance to woo her, the aggressiveness he displayed when we'd kissed had been enough to arouse her interests and she was more than willing to push him to see if he was indeed a suitable mate. To say she had been a trifle miffed was putting it mildly. In fact, seconds after Grandpa had interrupted, the two of us had glared at each other silently for a long time. It wasn't because neither of us knew what to say, but because the wolves in our souls were challenging each other. In the end though, my wolf ended up backing down in the face of an elder of the pack with her tail between her legs. Fortunately, Grandpa had allowed me to send Henry home so I was able to sort of mitigate the damage. He seemed to be understanding about it, what with kids knowing how adults overreact to everything nowadays, but there was still damage to our relationship that I would need to work on repairing...if we even had a relationship that is. That's what I ended up thinking about after Henry left and Grandpa had confined me to my room until my parents got home. I could have probably just told him to screw off, changed, and taken off into the woods for a while, but that wolf part of me acknowledged that an elder had given me an order and unless I wanted to challenge him for leadership in physical combat I had to back down. Since I didn't want to fight my own grandfather, and I didn't think I could beat him anyway, I did as he commanded and stayed in my room for the next couple of hours. Thankfully there was plenty to do and I wasn't bored. I did the little bit of homework I had from school, which took all of about twenty minutes, and then started doing as much research as I could on wolf behavior. If I was going to live with this wild, feral urges for the rest of my life I figured it was high time I get a better understanding of it. Unfortunately, I kept losing focus and thinking back on Henry kissing me and just how damn great it had been. It wasn't lost on me how completely weird it was that I was thinking about and actually eager to have it happen again. That was what I'd been doing when Mom and Dad came home and Mom collected me from my room to have a little family meeting. I fully expected to get read the riot act from my parents, so you can imagine my surprise when after Grandpa informed them of how he'd caught me kissing Henry that they responded with far less anger than I anticipated. None, in fact. Dad had asked if that was it while Mom actually gave me a small, yet proud smile. That was when Grandpa started going on a tirade about how I shouldn't be kissing some boy I'd just met. Which brings us to the point where everyone was now looking at me and I was struggling to come up with anything to say. Fortunately, Mom saw how conflicted I was feeling and came to my rescue. "Aiden, did you like kissing Henry?" "Awww Mom," I moaned and blushed bright red. "It's obvious she more than liked it," Grandpa ground out, "but that's not the point." "Really?" Dad challenged and I thought I actually saw him physically grow taller as he stood up to his father, "Exactly what is the point Dad? So Aiden was kissing a boy, so what? The last time I checked millions of other teenage girls and boys do the exact thing many times on a daily basis. So why has Aiden doing it too gotten your fur in a mat so bad?" For a moment I thought maybe Grandpa was going to go off on some old rhetoric about how when he was my age kids didn't do that kind of thing or something else archaic. The last thing I expected was for him to suddenly blurt out, "Because he's not one of us!" The room went so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The three of us goggled at him with wide, unbelieving eyes that he could say something so...well, I guess racist is probably the best word, though it didn't really fit. Speciesist maybe? Mom was the first one to find her voice again and she asked him carefully, "Exactly what do you mean by that Guy?" "Exactly what I said," he snapped and it was clear by the look in his eyes he was on a roll now. "That...boy, won't do anything to further enhance our line and Aiden needs to be with someone who can." What in the name of sweet merciful crap was Grandpa talking about? Enhance our line? Be with someone who can? It was almost like he considered me to be some kind of brood mare. "Dad, what in the fuck are you talking about?" my father yelled, "Aiden is just a teenager and you're talking like she's some kind of Virgin Mary." Mom didn't say anything but it was obvious she was just as upset, not by the way she had gathered me in her arms and held me close, but by the simple fact that she didn't chastise Dad for swearing like that in front of me. Grandpa sighed and sat down heavily in one of the chairs, rubbing his face in frustration. "Terry, our people are dying out. The mutation that makes us what we are is becoming less and less frequent. At last count, there were perhaps a dozen werewolves left on this continent. I'm just trying to make sure that our family's heritage doesn't die out by making sure the line stays pure, like the Indian tribes," he explained, looking up as though this concept should have been obvious to us. "Guy," Mom told him with barely controlled anger, "we don't care about carrying on family bloodlines. Aiden can live whatever life she chooses and we won't let some stupid Connors family obligation rule her life." "She's already embraced being a bladesmith," he argued. "She's already happily accepted part of our family's heritage. Why not this too?" By this point, while I appreciated my parents defending me more than I could say, I felt it was time for me to start sticking up for myself. "I'm a bladesmith because I like being a bladesmith," I asserted, extracting myself from Mom's arms and rising to my feet. "Dad didn't force me into doing it one bit. In fact, he told me over and over again when I first started that I wasn't under any obligation to keep doing it if I found something else I liked. But I do like it, and not because it's some fucking family tradition that has to be followed." Mom opened her mouth, probably to address my language, but closed it immediately. "I love you Grandpa," I told him, though at this point that issue was a bit contentious, "but there isn't a snowball's chance in hell that I'm going to let you whore me out to some hand-picked werewolf just because you and this friend of yours want to try and keep our bloodline pure. I really don't give a shit if I'm the last werewolf ever born!" By the time I'd finished I was so angry that my voice was starting to lose its human quality and devolving into animalistic snarls. Distantly, I could feel myself starting to lose control and the wolf roaring to the surface. My anger had triggered a deep, primal response. She wanted out in the worst way and I still hadn't learned near enough control over my change yet so there was no stopping her. I was already running out the door when I felt my teeth beginning to go from blunt to dangerously sharp. As I sprinted across the backyard I stripped off my clothes as fast as possible. My shirt went flying into some bushes while I just left my shoes and jeans where I'd stepped out of them on the grass. By the time I was down to my underwear and socks the wolf had taken over. The last remnants of the two-legged 'fur' shredded as my entire form seemed to erupt into that of the wolf. I never broke strike as four legs now propelled me towards the forest at a speed two legs could never achieve. Everything I saw went black and white while the world came alive with scents and sounds that no two-leg could ever appreciate. The wilds called out to me, welcoming me back into its embrace as I dove headlong into the one place that made sense anymore. I raced along the ground, reveling in the freedom and simplicity that was nature. It felt so right, so true, being like this. How could any two-leg even try to grasp what it mean to be such an intricate part of nature that its very essence coursed through your blood. How could that pathetic existance compare to the feeling of the wind rushing through my fur, the weightlessness of my legs propelling me over a fallen tree, the raw power of my muscles sending me racing into the night? I wanted to raise my head and scream out my joy to the moon in thanks. And that's exactly what I did. At the top of a hill nestled within a small clearing I tilted my head back, narrowed my lips, and let loose a long, grateful howl to the night's sky. I didn't care if any prey might have heard me, there would still be no escape for them when I chose to hunt. I just let myself howl over and over again. The answering howl was unexpected, but not shocking. After all, the old wolf was still in the area and I doubted my pack would have been able to do much to stop him from coming after me. After all, we were stronger than the two-legged. Still, it was he who had created this anger in my breast, this need to get away and reclaim this freedom, and I wasn't about to forgive him for it so easily. I considered seeking him out but I didn't need to. His scent came to me long before I watched his form melt out of the woods. He approached me slowly and with caution. Good, he should be wary. "Aiden, come back with me." "No!" I snarled, snapping my teeth in his direction in warning. "I'm going nowhere with you." "Your parents are worried," Grandpa said. "They're scared someone will think you're the dog that killed that two-leg and will try to hurt you." I snorted in derision, the wolf equivalent of a hair-toss. "There aren't any two-legged for miles. Besides, I'd smell them coming a long way off. They aren't any threat." "You're still too young," he insisted. "You haven't learned the way of the hunt yet. You're still vulnerable. I can teach you-" "Teach me?" I growled in anger. Leaping forward I snapped my jaws at his muzzle, causing him to dart back out of reach. "You just want me to whelp pups for you. You don't care about teaching me. Stay away from me omega!" I barked. His angry and dangerous growl told me I'd stepped over the line. Regardless of how angry I was, calling a pack elder omega was the wrong thing to do unless you could back up such a statement with strength and skill, and I didn't have that yet. I was already wheeling about and racing off when he leapt into the clearing with the clear intention of showing me my place. I could hear him taking up pursuit, but what I lacked in combat experience I made up for in speed. I was younger and faster than him and if my ability to weave through the obstacles of the forest meant anything, far more agile. Quickly the distance between us stretched out and soon I could no longer hear the sounds of him racing after me. I took the opportunity to streak through a brook and then veer sharply downstream for a mile before doubling back the way I came, making sure to keep downwind of his scent. Eventually, his scent faded from the area and I knew I was alone in the forest once more. Unfortunately, that left me alone with my anger and nothing to do with it. I could run some more, but that would just be a useless waste of energy. My instincts knew what I needed and that was to hunt. It was a siren's call that simply wouldn't be ignored so instead I embraced it and let it guide me. Finding a trace of prey was easy. It was all around me in this place so all that was required was locating the most scent-rich trail and following it. I would have prefered something big and heavy like a deer or maybe even a fox, but the quick little rabbit would have to do. It put up a good run, I'll give it that, but in the end it was no match for a wolf of wolves and soon I was making a feast of its little body. No piece of meat went to waste and soon all that was left were bones glistening in the moonlight. With my hunger sated reasonable thinking slowly made its return, and the realization that my pack was probably worried about me and that was concerning. Oh not the elder, he could go to the winds as far as I was concerned, but the alphas, they mattered and should be respected. Moving at an easy trot I hurried back through the forest and in no time breached the woodline that bordered our territory. At the rear of what functioned as our pack's two-legged cache, I saw my alphas standing and watching anxiously. My female alpha gasped when she caught sight of me and tugged on the arm of the male. As I approached, slowly so as not to alarm them, my female alpha lowered herself to her knees and opened her...arms...to me. The wolf took this to be a symbol of weakness, inviting attack, but the two-legged part of me knew this to be a gesture of welcome. Keeping my movements calm and non-threatening, I approached my female alpha under the watchful eye of my male alpha and gently nuzzled and licked her outstretched appendage, her...'hand'. "Oh Aiden," she whispered in a voice containing what I recognized as sadness as she gently stroked the fur of my ruff. I uttered a sound of contentment and pressed against her a bit more, snuggling into the warm embrace. When I felt the...hand...of my alpha male lightly touch the top of my head I looked up into his eyes and panted quietly. "Aiden," he said carefully, modulating his voice to be both calm and commanding at the same time. "You need change back. Can you do that?" Change back? What did he mean? Why would I want to... He meant to the form of the two-leg. He wanted me to revert back to that weak shell I'd occupied a short time ago. Why would he ask that of me? Was I not better, stronger, faster in my true form? Why would my alpha ask me to weaken myself? "Aiden please," my female alpha said with clear begging in her voice. I felt the two-leg stir within me, climbing her way to the surface. She understood what the alphas were asking of me and didn't see the two- legged form as a weakness. She considered it to be her true form, regardless of how much less it was. I wanted to fight against it, to remain wolf forever, but she was strong, stronger than I realized. And yet, she knew simply taking control was not the way. In a battle of wills, the victor could be either of us, but the consequences were something neither of us desired. Instead, she compromised, letting me know that my time would come again very soon. She promised not to keep me locked away, but to share herself with me, to embrace me and asking me to embrace her as well. A joining, a union, that was what was proposed, and I could not deny it was an advantageous one. She had already taken steps to do so prior to this eve by acknowledging my presence instead of trying to pretend I did not exist, I could not offer insult by not doing the same. Thus, I allowed my instincts to ease and once again allowed me to retake control. The change happened so fast that one moment I was all fur and teeth and the next I was completely naked being held close by my crying mother while my father was draping a throw blanket over both of us. Then he fell to his knees, wrapped his arms around us, and joined in our tears. **** "Grandpa's gone," Mom told me as I huddled, still naked, under the blanket on the couch and sipped from a steaming mug of tea. "Gone?" I asked quietly since my vocal chords were still feeling a bit raw from all of that howling I'd done. "Dad told him to leave after he got back from looking for you. Did he find you?" I nodded and let the fragrant vapors from the mug brush against my cheeks while inhaling its scent. "Briefly. I told him to go to hell, at least the wolf version of it." I winced at the memory of our exchange and looked up to Mom worriedly. "I insulted him pretty bad." "How bad?" she asked, sitting down beside me and slipping her arm around my shoulders. I couldn't help the guilty smile from forming when I replied, "Called him omega, after literally snapping at his muzzle." Even with Mom not being a wolf herself, she knew exactly what calling one an omega meant. Her soft laughter was a thousand times more effective in making me feel better than all the cups of tea in the world. "Oh he must have hated that." "I'm pretty sure he was going to give me the wolf equivalent of a whipping but I took off as soon as I said it and he couldn't catch up. I lost him pretty quick." She nodded and gently rocked me back and forth in her arms while we continued to talk. "So where did you go? I heard howling not long after you took off." "Yeah, that was me," I admitted. "I did it before Grandpa showed up. I guess it led him right to me." "And after?" I shrugged a little and sipped some tea. "I hunted." I'm sure any ordinary family might have heard that statement and been shocked. Then again, my family was far from ordinary and Mom had been given a full indoctrination into our particular family...quirk...long ago. Plus, Dad himself hunted every year, he just used a rifle instead teeth, so the concept was a pretty basic one in our household. "Did you catch anything good?" she asked rather casually. "Just a rabbit," I said and couldn't hide the disappointment in my voice. "It was the only thing nearby." "Was it tasty at least?" I looked up as Dad walked into the living room with a small pile of clothes in his hands. "It was alright," I shrugged. "Deer's better." "Can't argue there," he agreed and set down what I now saw was a fresh pair of panties, sleep pants, and a tank top. I probably should have been offended and maybe a little creeped out that Dad had gone through my underwear drawer but I was just too emotionally exhausted to care at the moment. "Your Mom told you I assume." "About you throwing Grandpa out? Yeah," I said when he nodded. "I'm sorry." "Don't be," he insisted and sat down next to me opposite of Mom. "You did absolutely nothing wrong. This was all on his shoulders and no one else's. As long as I'm still breathing no one will make you do anything you don't want to do, ever." The vehemence in his voice was more than enough to make me believe him, and I took a great deal of comfort in that. When Mom relinquished me to him so he could hug me tightly, I snuggled into his embrace in a way I never would have done just a few days ago but now felt oh so right. "I love you guys," I whispered. "So much." "We love you too sweetheart," Mom said, leaning down to rest her head on my shoulder while resting her hand on Dad's arm so all of us were touching one another in some way. "And we'll always be here for you. Now," she said with a slightly wicked grin. "Tell me about this boy you were kissing." Aw crap. Wolf Springs, Wyoming "I'll get it," the woman called out when the phone began to ring. After only its second chiming she snatched it from its charging cradle and thumbed the talk button. "Hello?" "I need a favor." The woman sighed with a smile and shook her head. "Guy, I've told you a hundred times there's nothing I can do. Your mutation isn't some kind of rubber stamp that can be imprinted on someone else, even to someone with my kind of abilities." "That's not what I wanted to ask," the man said with clear agitation in his voice that made the woman frown. "Guy, what's wrong?" she asked. "Listen, I don't have time to go into it, but I'm going to need your help soon." "And exactly what kind of help are you going to need?" she asked suspiciously. "I'm going to be bringing a girl home with me. Don't worry, she's family," he assured her just as the protest was ready to leave her mouth. "But her mutation is more advanced than the rest of ours. It could be the key to unlocking why it manifests so randomly in our bloodline. I've been working with someone to try and figure it out and we've got a working theory but-" "Guy, stop," the woman said sternly. "I am not going to help you dissect a member of your own family just to try and figure out your mutation, physically or otherwise." "I'm not talking about dissection dammit, this is my granddaughter we're talking about, I'd never hurt her." The woman blinked in surprise. "Granddaughter? But I thought the only grandchild you had was a-oooooh," she said in understanding. "Your grandson's mutation changed him into a girl." "Yeah," he snapped. "And that's never happened before. We could be talking about a whole new strain of mutation in our family's bloodline that could be the key to sustaining us." "Guy," she sighed. "You're not a Native American tribe. The genes that cause mutation don't dilute because of any kind of cross-breeding. Heck, you can't cross-breed when it comes to mutations anyway." "Not cross-breeding, interbreeding." For several seconds both parties were silent as the connotation of what Guy was saying sank in until finally the woman very carefully said. "Guy, please tell me you're not talking about impregnating your granddaughter." "Jesus no!" the man barked. "That's just sick! No, I'm saying that if two wolves mate then it could create a more stable and trackable mutation so that every child born after would be a mutant of our bloodline." "Okay," she said slowly. "I suppose I can somewhat see the logic in your thinking, but why are you tell me this?" "You can make sure my granddaughter is fertile when the time comes for breeding so that way we'll be absolutely sure the baby she's carrying is wolf-blooded." The fear that had already building listening to the man speak about things in such a manic matter spiked into real panic. "Guy," she said, speaking to him as one would when trying to talk down a suicidal man. "This is a child we're talking about, not a breeding animal. You have to see how wrong this kind of thinking is." "Dammit," he snapped. "You sound just like my idiot family! I'm talking about the survival of our species here! You know what, forget it, I'll figure this out on my own." The click of the line disconnecting sounded like a gunshot in her ear. "Rowen?" a beautiful redheaded teen girl asked as she came down the stairs. "Everything okay?" Rowen McKinnon shook her head, unable to keep the haunted look off her face. "No Ashley, I'm afraid everything is the furthest thing from okay." Always one to key into someone else's emotional state, the young woman hurried over and took her adoptive mother's hands. "What is it? What's wrong?" "I'm afraid an old friend of mine is not the man I thought he was, and his clearly insane ideas have taken hold of him in a way that I fear for his family." The young girl with the fantastically red hair looked at her mother for a moment before her eyes widened with horrified understanding. "He's like Dr. Taylor, isn't he." she whispered. "At least very close to it I'm afraid." "We have to help those people then," Ashley admonished. "If he's planning to do something to hurt them we can't just stand by and do nothing!" Rowne looked at her adopted daughter, a young girl whose giving nature made it impossible not to love and care for her, and smiled as she gently stroked her hair. "Sweet, brave Ashley, always so eager to race to help someone regardless of the danger." "I won't apologize for that," Ashley claimed, though her blush spoke of embarrassment at the endearment. "Nor should you," her mother told her firmly. "It's one of the reasons why you are a truly special girl. Unfortunately, there is little either of us could do in this case. Guy is far too strong and his family is too far away for us to probably get there in time. There might be, however," she said with a growing smile. "Another way." It took a moment but Ashley soon caught onto what her mother was saying and she began nodding rapidly. "Will he help?" "He helped you after just a phone call didn't he?" Rowen replied, her smile having turned into a grin as she dialed a number. The connection was made after less than one ring. "Rowen," a gravelly voice said knowingly. As always, the sound of his voice made Rowen smile. "How fast can you get to Salem, Indiana?" Salem, Indiana, Salem High School I'd thought about what happened between Henry and I when I'd gone to bed last night. It had kept me awake half the night, actually. While, yes, I did remember that mind-blowing kiss over and over again, I also wondered if it actually affected Henry as strongly as it did me. Okay, obviously it had affected him pretty damn strong if the, ahem, hardness I'd felt pressing insistently against my belly when we'd been kissing was any indication, but that was just physical. What about the mental and emotional? Despite trying to tell myself not to expect anything, I still found myself taking a little extra care making myself up after my shower that morning. I brushed out my hair so it was full and glossy, asked Mom to help me with some makeup, I even dabbed a little bit of her perfume on. I tried to explain it away as just coping with my new feminine status but...for god's sake I was wear a skirt this morning! And not just any old skirt, a denim mini that was hitting me at mid thigh so it showed off a hell of a lot more leg than I'd previously been comfortable with. Was I really dolling myself up for someone that was just as likely to ignore me than look at me? Yeah, sure, Henry seemed like he was changing for the better, and we'd had that knock-your-socks-off kiss, but after Grandpa's tirade yesterday afternoon would he still even want to talk to me? I thought I'd done a decent job of letting him know Grandpa didn't speak for me when it came to who I chose to date (date?), but it had been clear from the look on his face that he had been spooked. Spooked enough to want to avoid me? Well, I guess that remained to be seen. So I guess that's why I took the time to pretty myself up before heading off to school. It was the best way I knew how, along with simply talking to him, to let Henry know I was still interested in him, a fact that I still couldn't believe was true. And, if Mom's compliments on my choice of outfit along with the sage words that if Henry didn't appreciate my efforts he was a moron didn't prove to him that I was willing to make what I considered a supreme effort, then he could just go fuck himself. I actually got myself so worked up about the possibility of him shunning me that I already had about ten different scathing comments ready to let loose with the instant I was given the opportunity. That was, of course, until I saw him standing by the front doors pacing nervously. The rational, non-hormonal teenager part of my brain warned me that he could just be waiting for someone else and that I still shouldn't get my hopes up, but then our eyes met. In an instant there was absolutely no doubt that those deep, blue eyes were only looking for me because when they found my amber ones there was an immediate warmth that accompanied the welcoming smile that blossomed on his face. I actually had to resist the rather strong urge to suddenly break into a run and race to him so I might throw myself into his arms. Instead, however, I played it cool and continued to approach him at a nice, leisurely pace. So what if I threw an extra little wiggle into my walk, a girl can turn on the sex appeal just because you know. The moment I reached him I half-expected, with trepidation I might add, that he was going to do the classic guy thing you see on T.V where he suddenly thinks we're going steady after one kiss and puts a possessive arm around my shoulders like he owned me. Thankfully, he seemed to be as uncertain of what to do as I was because he just kind of stood there rocking back and forth on his heels while letting out a quiet whistle. "Wow, you look fantastic," he said, and I didn't need super smelling ability to see he was being honest and not pointlessly flattering. "Those boots look great on you." I glanced down at the tall, calf high combat-style boots that hugged my legs closely in black leather before shrugging a little with a self- conscious smile. "Just something I threw on." "Uh huh," he replied with a knowing look. "You just rolled out of bed and threw that all on without a care. Pull the other one." "So I decided I wanted to dress a bit more...girly today," I said, immediately defensive about my choice of wardrobe. "There's nothing wrong with that." "Absolutely," he agreed quickly. "I never said there was, and it looks great on you." I closed my eyes and took a breath to steady my jangling nerves. "Sorry, I'm a bit edgy about it. I never thought I'd ever even consider wearing a skirt before." He opened his mouth and then closed it before opening it again as he was clearly trying to choose the right words to say. "Did you," he finally asked hesitantly. "Did you wear that...for me?" He sounded so little-boyish at the end that it was impossible to get mad about him making such a presumption, despite the fact that it was true. In fact, I actually blushed at being found out and looked down shyly. "Uh huh," I said quietly. For a few moments we stood there as students flowed around us on their way into the building. Some glanced over and gave us curious looks but we were pretty much left alone with our awkward, teenage mating ritual of being too damn shy to say anything. Eventually Henry seemed to find his voice and he asked. "Can I walk you to class?" "I'd like that," I said with a smile and he moved to walk beside me as we headed inside. I was actually hoping he'd hold my hand, yet another step down the path of girlhood, but at least he stayed pretty close to my side the whole time. We'd gone partway down the hall towards my locker when I decided I owed Henry an explanation for yesterday. "Listen, Henry," I started. "About yesterday-" "It's okay," he interrupted quickly. "I guess maybe I pushed you too quickly. I didn't mean to overstep and get you in trouble." "No, no," I said shaking my head as I opened my locker. "It's not that it's-" I stopped and realized what he'd just said. Turning, I frowned at him. "What do you mean you pushed me?" "Well," he said, clearly embarrassed. "I mean I know you've been pretty confused lately with everything that's happened I didn't want you to think I was trying to take advantage of you or anything." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he actually apologizing for yesterday? Was he regretting that mega-kiss? Did he forget that it had been me who had grabbed him and yanked him down so I could get my mouth on him? Poking him in the chest hard enough to actually have him leaning back slightly and narrowed my gaze at him. "You listen to me buster, I kissed you, not the other way around, so there was no taking advantage of anything. If anything I should be...apologizing...to you," I finished slowly, realizing just how stupid this was starting to sound. "Oh good god I sound like something out of a bad T.V show," I mumbled. "Okay," he said, reaching up and removing my finger from his chest before gently kissing the back of my hand and sending a quick rush of heat through me. "How about this: I'm absolutely not sorry about kissing you, regardless if you started it, and I'd be more than happy to do it again. Maybe after taking you out to dinner and then a movie?" Once again he'd reverted to that little-boy brand of shyness that was just so damn cute there was no way I could say no. Of course, that didn't mean I was going to make it easy on him. "Dinner and a movie?" I asked with a quirked eyebrow. "Really?" "I'll have you know," he replied with a puffed out chest and a humorously fake sense of superiority. "The dinner and a movie concept has been a time-tested and proven method of teenage enjoyment for the last fifty years or so and has the stamp of approval from the...the...Dating Society of America," he finished, quite strongly I might add. "Well," I acknowledged. "If it's an activity approved by the DSA then I suppose I don't have any choice but to go along with it." I tried to keep a straight face after saying that but unfortunately there was no stopping the giggles that followed. The look of combined relief and excitement had him breaking out in a wide smile. "So you'll let me take you out tonight?" "One condition," I said, holding up a finger and waiting for his nod of understanding. "Nothing fancy and we don't see some godawful girly romance flick where the leads spent the whole time dancing around one another until they finally realize they loved each other all along," I finished in a singsong, syrupy sweet voice while clutching my books to my chest and swaying in a deliberately over-dramatic fashion. "Thank god," Henry breathed in relief. "I was already getting myself worked up to the idea of propping my eyelids open with toothpicks so you wouldn't think I'd fallen asleep." The image of that got a good laugh out of both of us. "How about Christie's for dinner and that new flick about the dueling devisors?" I nodded in consideration, remembering seeing the previews for it on T.V and thinking it looked like a decent action flick. "That sounds good. We can probably go right after school so we can catch the matinee first and dinner after. Matinees are cheaper anyway." "Hey, I don't mind paying a little extra for a later show if you want to go later," he told me. Shaking my head I smiled and patted his arm. "Don't worry, it's not about the money, and I'm paying for my share by the way," I warned him in a voice that told him not to bother arguing. "I'd rather see the movie first and dinner second. That way we're actually looking at each other for the last half of the date instead of a screen." "Good logic," he admitted. By that point we'd arrived at my first class and the bell was about to ring so I spun about and lifted up on my toes to lightly kiss him on the cheek. So what if I touched the corner of his mouth at the same time, it was just a happy coincidence okay? "I'll see you at lunch?" "Wouldn't miss it," he said, sounding a little dazed. I was just vain enough to feel a quick flash of giddy pride that I'd done that to him and tossed him a bright smile before I flounced, yes that's right flounced, into class. **** For the first time in a long while I actually had trouble focusing on class that day. It wasn't so much that it was overly noticeable, but more than once a few girls had whispered quick words of female understanding that I was smitten and that they thought it was great how much I'd turned Henry around. Jake also noticed, but then he'd known me for years so it wasn't hard for him to tell that I was preoccupied with something. When I confirmed his suspicions and told him about my date after school he merely slapped me on the back and told me congratulations right before asking if I had an ample supply of condoms handy. That got him a smack on the head from both me and Mary. Lunch was more of a tease than anything. While Henry and I had it together, our nervousness about the still new relationship prevented us from doing much more than just sitting close enough that we were pressed hip to hip, toying with one another's fingers, and playing a little footsy. It was all very childish and high school, but I was so consumed with riding this new-love high I didn't even notice it, not even when Jake rolled his eyes in exasperation at the sickly sweet scene we were making. Mary's sharp pinch to his thigh and his subsequent pained yelp did get a good laugh out of us though. By the time the school day had ended I was practically vibrating with nervous excitement. True, Henry and I had already bypassed the whole initial date thing and gone straight to the making-out section of the relationship guide book, but this felt more...I don't know, official I guess. No sudden bursts of burning desire, no uncontrolled groping, this was an actual, planned out date. I was even debating doing a quick change into something more date-like on the stop off at my house but decided what I was wearing was fine. The whole point of tonight was for it to be casual and besides, the skirt and green and white striped polo top combo I'd chosen that morning was pretty much standard fare when it came to the whole dinner and a movie thing. When I got to Henry's Escalade where he was waiting for me, I gave him a bright, happy smile to show him how glad I was to see him and eagerly hopped into the passenger seat. We didn't say much on the drive to my place other than my telling him I just needed to drop off my books and let my parents know what the plan was. I didn't expect any problems from them since after our talk last night they both made it clear they were happy I'd met someone who was so nice to me. There was the requisite threat of dismemberment should Henry hurt me, but then a mother has to be protective after all. Besides, it was about on par with Dad chiming in with his reminder that he could skin a deer in under sixty seconds. As we pulled up to the house I noticed both of my parents' cars were parked in the driveway, which was a bit odd since Dad usually was out making deliveries around this time of day. Then it dawned on me and I groaned. "What's wrong?" Henry asked, looking over with concern. "You'd better come with," I sighed and dropped my head into my palm. "Mom and Dad are waiting inside to give the nth degree drilling about dating their new daughter. Peeking through my fingers I gave him a sympathetic smile when I saw him got a bit pale. "Don't worry, I've already told them about how you've changed and that you're a good guy." "As long as your Dad doesn't come at me with one of those really big knives he makes," he gulped as we got out of the car. "He won't," I confirmed. "But don't be surprised to see one or more of his guns on the table being 'cleaned'." "Oh perfect," he groaned as we stepped up to the front door. "Should I start running now?" "You'd better not mister," I warned him with a playful wagging of my finger before opening the door. "You need to show me you're a toughie that can protect little old me from the big bad guys." I giggled a little when he made an exaggerated muscle and called out. "Mom, Dad, I'm...home." My voice trailed off as I took in the sight of the living room and every joking aspect of the moment fled in a wash of panic. "Mom!" I screamed. "Dad!" Before my eyes I saw Mom and Dad laying face down on the living room floor, both of them completely motionless. I didn't even hesitate as I let my bag and purse fall to the floor and sprinted over to them, sliding to my knees beside their inert forms and quickly began shaking Mom. "Mom, Mom! Are you okay? Talk to me!" When neither she nor Dad responded in the slightest I quickly fitted my fingers at the side of Mom's neck and breathed a sigh of relief when I simultaneously felt a pretty strong pulse while also finally noticing the faint rise and fall of their backs indicating they were breathing. "They're alive," I called back to Henry. "Call nine one one!" "No need." Instantly I spun about on my knees and moved into a kind of half crouch at the sound of a very familiar voice. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw Grandpa standing in the doorway of the living room that led to the kitchen holding Henry against the wall by his throat. The younger boy was trying his best to dislodge the elder man's fingers from cutting off his air supply but Grandpa was definitely stronger from years of bladecraft and the added bonus of werewolf-enhanced strength. "I just used knockout darts on them," he explained in a frighteningly casual voice. "You don't think I'd kill my own family do you?" "Grandpa," I cried. "What the hell are you doing? Let Henry go!" He looked over at Herny almost as though he forgot he had even been holding him in a death grip. "Oh, yes, of course," he said in that conversational tone, moments before he hurled the boy across the room to crash into the wall and slide down to the floor in a heap. "Henry!" I screamed and leapt up to race over to check on him. I made it perhaps three steps before I felt Grandpa's arm encircle my bicep and haul me up against the wall hard enough to blast the breath from my lungs. "We don't have time for your little two-legged toy," he growled in my ear. "We need to get going if you're going to help strengthen the bloodline." "What...talking...about?" I gasped, desperately trying to get my lungs to remember how to take in oxygen. "You're the key, you see," he continued, wrenching my arms painfully behind my back and securing my wrists with what felt like a plastic zip tie. "Your genetics are unique to our line. You can help us understand why the gene has been skipping generations and how we can regulate it so every new generation will have the werewolf mutation. We can thank your mother for that." "Mom?" I whispered, thoughts instantly whirling about questioning whether she was a part of this. "Oh yes," Grandpa said, spinning me around and pressing my back to the wall and trapping my hands between it and my body. "You see one of your mother's ancestors had a baby with a werewolf. Her family line carried the gene for several generations but none of them manifested...until you," he said with a smile that was terrifying in how genuinely happy it looked. "Between your mother's and my son's genetics, they created a child that was guaranteed to manifest. Now all we need to do is keep breeding amongst wolves and we'll be able to dramatically increase the werewolf population." "You're crazy!" I yelled. "What the fuck are you trying to do, take over the world with werewolves?" "Oh Aiden," he said with a shake of his head, sounding like I was a five year old that just asked where babies came from. "Nothing so dramatic. I just want to ensure that our species survives. Right now you're the last known werewolf to be born on this continent. Before you, we weren't sure any more would come into existence because the genetics have become so diluted over the years." "I am not your fucking personal baby factory!" I screamed at him while trying to twist my hands free of the plastic tie and only cutting my wrists in the process. Grandpa knew what he was doing when he'd tied me like this with this material. If I shifted into wolf form right now either my forepaws would still be bound behind my back, probably snapping the bones in my legs in the process, or they would probably cut into my flesh so severely my paws could very well be amputated. Grandpa had told me we healed fast, but then he was obviously crazy so I wasn't sure how much of what he'd told me was true or even correct about our ability to heal. "I'm not letting you whore me out to every male wolf that looks at me." "Of course not honey," he said, actually looking offended by the idea. "You'll be heralded as the queen of wolves once this is done. There'll probably be howls created specifically to honor you for centuries. Won't that be nice?" This time when he smiled there was no trace left of the tender, loving grandfather I'd known for so many years. That man was gone, replaced by this megalomaniac with a 'Master Race' complex that probably rivaled Hitler. How could he have gone so far so fast? How had I not seen this coming? That's when it hit me. Diedrick's. While the mental disorder typically affected devisors, the research I'd done when I'd first manifested told me that it was possible for any mutant to fall under its influence. It was rare, but it happened. "Grandpa," I said, trying to sound calm but the quaver in my voice told me I failed miserably. "Listen to me. You're under the influence of Diedrick's right now, it's affected your mind and you're not thinking right. Look at what you're doing right now, look at what you've done to your own son." He made a tsking sound and shook his head. "I'm not Dricking out Aiden," he assured me, and the confident way he said it actually had me believing him. "I'm simply doing what needs to be done to ensure our race survives. Now, we've chatted enough, it's time to-" He never finished what he'd intended to say because suddenly he was wrenched off of me. He didn't go very far, only a couple of steps, but it was enough for me to duck out of his grip and dart away. When I spun back towards him I saw Henry struggling to get him on the ground. There was blood streaming down the side of his face that was taut with grim determination. "You're not going to hurt her!" he growled and drove a fist into my grandfather's sigh. Unfortunately, the blow did little but make him grunt a little before he slammed Henry into the wall. "Stupid whelp!" he snarled, and I recognized the humanity bleeding out of his voice. "No!" I whispered in horror as I watched the muscles beneath his clothing begin to tremble and roll. Grandpa was shifting. "Henry!" I screamed. "Get out of here!" I'm not sure if he actually heard me or not but his eyes shot toward me moments before the fearl growl rippled out of Grandpa's throat and his teeth sank deeply into Henry's shoulder at the clavicle. He screamed in pain as I watched blood spurt out of the wound and rapidly drench his shirt in crimson. Adding my own scream to the mixture of sounds in the air I did the only thing I could do and charged at the pair, ramming my shoulder into Grandpa as hard as I could. Maybe it caught him off guard or maybe my own werewolf-enhanced strength helped, but it was enough to send him stumbling back to trip over the couch and land hard on the floor behind it. Instantly I was on my knees beside Henry where he'd slumped to the floor. With my hands still bound I was helpless to do anything more than watch as more and more blood dripped down his chest. "Oh god, Henry!" I gasped, doing the only thing I could do and press my shoulder against his wound to try and stem the bleeding. "Go," he told me weakly. "Get out of here." I looked into his ashen face and shook my head with a determination I was having trouble actually feeling. "I'm not leaving you here to die." I think Henry might have said something else to try and convince me but at that moment the sound of an inhuman growl floated out from behind the couch. While both of us looked over at the sound, I already knew what it was and wasn't at all surprised to see Grandpa prowl out from behind the couch in wolf form. Like before, he was very large in size, even for a wolf, and while I was certainly faster in an all out sprint than him he was a hell of alot faster than any human, including me. "Oh god no," I whispered. "What the fuck is that?" Henry gasped in horror. "Grandpa," I told him, already feeling defeated. I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him bound in human form like this. Hell, even if my hands were free and I could change he was definitely stronger than I was and had decades more combat experience than I did. We were done and both he and I knew it. "Say goodbye to your omega," he told me in wolfspeak that only I could understand before leaping at Henry with his jaws snapping at his throat. That was when Death paid us a visit. At first it was just a black shape that blasted through the living room window, slamming into Grandpa hard enough to send him flying across the room into the far wall. Without stopping it hit the ground in a roll before coming to its feet and I got my first real look at it. It wasn't actually a thing. In fact, it was a guy maybe a little more than average height garbed in all black and wearing a solid helmet of some sort that covered his entire head so it looked like it had been replaced by a black, roughly human head-shaped marble. He'd barely gotten to his feet when two pistols were yanked out of holsters strapped to his thighs and came roaring to life as he unloaded them. I watched in disbelief as every single round found its target, making Grandpa jerk and buck wildly regardless of how he tried to juke and weave out of the way. Despite the horrific insanity of the entire situation I couldn't help but watch in rapt fascination as each bullet tore into Grandpa's fur and flesh, spraying blood along the wall with each strike of steel. He tried to wade through the barrage of hot lead but only managed to snap at the air before slumping to the ground. The stranger didn't even pause as he ejected the spent magazines from the pistols and slapped fresh ones home before moving over to me and slicing through the bindings on my wrists with a knife that he pulled from...somewhere. "I'm a friend," he said in a gravelly voice slightly distorted by the helmet/mask thing. "Can you move?" I shook my head and looked over at the body of Grandpa. "He's not dead," I told him grimly and watched as the bullet wounds slowly began to close. "I know," the man said as he slapped some kind of a patch on the now unconscious Henry's shoulder. God, he'd lost so much blood. "Get your boyfriend out of here, I'll get your parents." Nodding I grabbed Henry's arm and, thanking Bram Stoker for werewolf- enhanced strength, dragging him out the door of the house while the man lifted my Dad across his shoulders in a fireman's carry and ran him outside. While I laid Henry down on the front lawn the man carefully laid Dad down and ran back inside for Mom. He was fast, no question there, because less than five seconds later I saw him racing out of the house with Mom cradled in his arms. Unfortunately, that's not all I saw. I was moving before I even had a chance to think about it, sprinting across the lawn and diving through the air to tackle Grandpa as he leapt for the man carrying Mom. Apparently I'd built up enough speed and hit him in just the right spot to send the two of us flying back into the house. I felt a bright flash of pain explode through my shoulder as his jaws clamped down on me with enough force that I think he shattered the bone. Screaming in pain I kicked him away from me and scrambled into a crouch, one hand clutching at my now useless arm while Grandpa rolled to his feet and snarled at me. I knew I could change now and we'd be on more even ground. My arm might even heal enough that I wouldn't be limping when I was on all fours. Chances were I'd still probably lose. Even with the help of this mysterious stranger Grandpa still had a really good chance of beating us and taking me away to be his bitch whore for the werewolf community. Then my whole life would be over. All of the love and caring I'd received from my parents my entire life would be for nothing. The changes that I'd been able to bring out in Henry that meant the possibility of a normal life for both of us would be wasted. I wouldn't even get to experience a first date that I was so damn close to going on. It would all end because of a fucking deranged speciesist. And that made me mad. Standing up slowly, glaring at the panting and growling form of my grandfather, I let that anger build and build. I felt the wolf inside me growling and snarling, anxious to come out and hungry for blood. This supposed elder of the pack had affected the worst kind of betrayal. He'd attacked the pack, decimated it from within not to raise in status, but to destroy it. That sent my anger spirling higher, transforming it into something deeper, more primal. The wolf was coming and I did nothing to stop her. I welcomed her, in fact, crying out for her to come and join with me so we could do justice that can only be done in the wild. She understood that better than anything else on this planet and added her anger to mine, her fury, our RAGE. The change came, faster, more powerful than before. It encompassed my entire being, using that rage to fuel it to the point of the shift and beyond. I didn't fall to all fours, I rose higher and higher on two legs. I could feel the muscles of my body grow even as my limbs lengthened and thickened. My hands and feet became an amalgamation of human and wolf, retaining their original form while becoming covered in thick, black fur. Claws, razor sharp, sprouted from beneath my nails, becoming my nails themselves. I felt my nose, mouth, and jaw stretch outward, becoming snout-like even as my teeth lengthened and sharpened to lethal points. Everything about me was wolf, yet not. I was beyond wolf now. I was that which would render my enemies as so much meat and feast upon the marrow from their bones. I had become the very embodiment of primal fury...of rage. I could smell the fear radiating off the betrayer like a sweet, sweet perfume, drawing me to it. I loved that fear, I wanted more of it. Leaping at the small four-legged mockery I swept at it with my claws, tearing open its side and making it howl in pain. The grin I made bore my teeth in all of their deadly glory as the little wolf growled and snapped at me in impotent anger. It foolishly even tried to attack and, just to allow it a slim glimmer of hope, allowed its small little teeth to sink into my thigh. I barely even noticed it as I snatched it up by the scruff and dangled it before my eyes for a moment to allow it to see what a true hunter was before hurling it away. It crashed through a wall and blasted into the...appliances, yes, that was the word...crumpling steel and sending sprays of various liquids into the air. Some of them were foul in stench, but I ignored them as I tore across the floor and into that small body that was even now trying to regain its feet. The time had come to end this and I snapped my jaws down upon its throat before a single, vicious jerk of my head tore out its flesh and bone and left its head dangling from but a few strips of skin and fur. The battle was mine and threw my head back to unleash a roar to the world so all would know that any who dared threaten my pack would have no choice but to face me, their death. And then the world flashed a brilliant light that burned its very existence away. Salem, Indiana, Crown Hill Cemetery "It's been a hell of a week, huh?" I asked with a bit of a smile as I peered up at the blue, cloudless sky. "I never would have thought anything even close to something like this would have happened. Hell, the biggest goal in my life last weekend was finishing that Bowie Spike at my forge...back when I had a forge," I said softly as the image of it, along with the rest of my house had been turned into a smoldering pile of rubble filled my mind. "But, I can always make a new forge," I said with an optimism I didn't one hundred percent feel. "At the new house we're moving to. Oh yeah I forgot to tell you," I said, remembering I hadn't mentioned that yet. "We're moving out of state. Grandpa...well, the man who used to be my grandfather before he went all 'Master Race' on us...had this really big place out west. Pretty fitting moving into his house since he had a hand in us losing ours huh?" I chuckled. "Dad was kind of hesitant about going there at first, but Mom convinced him that it would be for the best to leave town since everyone's looking at me like they're expecting me to eat them any second." I sighed and brushed some hair out of my face. "It really sucks, you know. I mean, yeah, I can turn into a wolf, but the DNA testing proved it was Grandpa that had killed Ed, not me. You'd think that a little fact like that would make a difference but (sigh) I guess I shouldn't be surprised by everyone treating our whole family like a bunch of lepers. It's kind of why I don't like people, you know? They have such a herd mentality about whatever sparks their interest they don't care about evidence and those silly little concepts like facts. I know you were like that Henry, at least you were before Ed died. But you changed. You became a better person and I really liked that guy you turned into." My throat closed for a second and it took a few times to get my voice to work around the tears that had been steadily spilling down my cheeks. "I wish I could have gotten to know more about you," I whispered. The gravestone before me with fresh earth neatly packed before it remained eternally silent. "Why couldn't you have just run when I told you to?" I demanded in a small, raw voice. "Why did you have to play the goddamn hero and throw yourself into danger to protect me? If you'd just listened to me we'd be over at Ed's funeral right now paying our respects with me wearing that brand new dress I'd had Mom help me pick out just for you. Why didn't you just listen to me!" I screamed at the headstone before sinking to my knees to simply sob my heart out. I had no concept of time at that point so I don't know how long I knelt there crying before I felt the gentle touch of Mom's hand on my shoulder. When I looked up at her she offered me a sad, sympathetic smile. "He didn't listen because he cared sweetheart," she told me quietly. "He couldn't let you get hurt just like you couldn't let us be hurt." "But you're pack," I argued. "The pack always defends one another, it's our way. He wasn't." Dad chose that moment to walk up and take a long, considering look at the gravesite before me before his eyes shifted to meet mine. "Isn't he?" was his quiet question. I opened my mouth to deny it, but the truth of his words held my voice at bay. While it was true Henry hadn't been a blood relation to our family, the way in which he'd heedlessly thrown himself to our defense spoke so clearly about the kind of person he was just as Grandpa's actions decried his own value to the pack. "Yeah," I finally admitted, looking at the headstone that contained Henry's name and the years of his existence on this world. "Yeah he was. You're pack Henry," I told the long cold body now embraced by the earth from whence humanity was born. "Blood or not you'll always be pack." I knew if I stayed there for much longer I'd probably start babbling or blubbering again so brushing off the nice new classy yet not overdone designer dress and regaining my feet atop the equally new high heels, Mom and I allowed Dad to escort us from the gravesite back to our single lonely SUV on the lane. As I slid into the back seat I silently wished I could have been there for the actual funeral. Oh I didn't give a damn about all of the religious crap the priest had undoubtedly spewed out. I had just wanted to be there in the church so I could see him one last time before the casket closed forever. Unfortunately, because of the generalized distrust and even hate towards my family that was beginning to bubble over in this town, especially since the police had been able to determine through forensics that it was, in fact, a wolf had killed Ed and not a wild dog, Dad thought it was best that we stay away until everyone had gone. It didn't matter that the DNA matched Grandpa and not me, we were two sides of the same coin in the eyes of Salem's community. I don't know why he'd killed that boy, but if I had to guess it was because they had been on their way to pull that revenge prank on me that Henry had told me about. He probably thought he was enforcing some kind of twisted pack protection measure that made perfect sense in his eyes. So, I was exiled from Henry's final, formal farewell. Fortunately Jake had been able to attend and he'd told me it had been a very nice service and that Henry looked very nice, for what it was worth. I suppose his family was lucky he hadn't been caught in the explosion that had decimated our property. It was a ruptured gas line that had done it. From what Dad told me after I'd woken up, my fight Grandpa had completely destroyed the kitchen stove and severed the gas line connected to it. A simple spark from one of the many appliances in the kitchen that we'd demolished in the fight had ignited the fumes, causing the entire line running beneath our house and the workshop to explode in all at once with me still inside roaring out my victory. The end result was pretty much the bulk of our property looked like something out of a nuclear holocaust movie. If that mysterious stranger hadn't anticipated that very outcome happening, how did he know an explosion was likely anyway? And carried them off the property the moment the fight between Grandpa and I had started, it was very likely that all of them would have died instead of only Henry. The emergency services crew said it was a miracle I myself had survived. My family and I knew better, though. While my memory of what happened was more emotional than factual, I do know that I'd changed in a way none of our kind ever had in the past. I hadn't simply become a wolf, I'd changed into the absolute pinnacle of a wolf/man hybrid...on steroids...after a massive dose of Human Growth Hormone. Ever seen any of those Hollywood werewolf movies like Van Helsing or Underworld? Yeah, kinda of like those. Basically a nine foot unstoppable killing machine. Well, apparently not completely unstoppable, since when I came walking out of the wreck that was once our home charred but unharmed, and pissed, that stranger in all black had been able to knock me out with a single, precisely aimed strike to the base of my skull right where it connected to my spine. Apparently it was some kind of biological 'off' switch. How the hell he knew about that single, one inch in diameter spot I have no idea, but I'd wager he's probably one of five people on the planet who could have done it. When I'd woken up I'd reverted back to human form and was being wrapped up in blankets supplied by EMS by my parents, who had long since recovered from the knockout drug Grandpa had used on them. The man in black was nowhere to be found. Once it had been determined I was perfectly fine I went on a whirlwind journey of trips to the hospital and the MCO satellite office in Indianapolis. Because this was an incident involving at least one mutant, namely me, there was no way we could have kept putting off an appointment in one of their offices any longer. So, I was a good girl and went through all of their tests to determine the range of my powers. Thankfully, the people operating at the Indianapolis station were very polite and professional and even kind of friendly regardless of the report they received that I had been involved in a fight that blew up two buildings. At least that was something decently positive. Had it been similar to that incident I'd seen in the news that happened out in California, I might have seen if I could improve my record to three buildings. As it was, I was now officially a card-carrying member of the mutant community listed as being a shifter three for being able to shift into a wolf, a regen three for my ability to heal, and somewhere between an exemplar one and two because of my sex change and the fact that my physical capabilities were more in line with an Olympic athlete in her prime rather than a fifteen-year-old girl. Oh yeah, and I'd chosen the code name Fenris. Yes, I'm well aware that the word comes from Norse mythology and my family was Irish, but considering I was probably the most powerful werewolf in existence at the moment since I had two forms instead of one, naming myself after the most prominent wolf in mythology seemed kind of appropriate. I just wish it had been based on a female, but what do you do. Of co