AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“In my dresser?”
“I myself am a curious creature.”
“Why not check with the sheriff?” I asked. “He seems nice.”
Her look was appraising. “Oh, is he? We’ve never seen eye to eye.”
“So far,” I admitted. “And he didn’t need to be after what I did.”
“Huh.” She tapped her chin. “Well, sugar—”
“Marcy.”
“Marcy, you’ve got to understand, werewolves are creatures of the night. Sheriffs are skilled at operating in a narrow swath of twilight. He wants me in the dark as much as he wants to keep you from it.”
She turned to leave, but I caught her wrist.
“Come,” I told her. Faced with her tear-stained cheeks, I smiled and added, “I'm not going to lock you in a curio, promise.”
She squeezed my shoulder. “Not with these chicken wings.”
“Grad school keeps me busy.”
“Soft and supple is okay with me, sugar.”
I led her upstairs, happy to discover my toppled dresser upright and repositioned. Wouldn’t have been hard for Caelan to have figured out the placement, what with the cluster of dusty cat toys in the spot where it’d belonged. Any toy I bought Samson and Igor lived a two minute, free-range lifestyle before being wedged into the most impossible to reach places underneath the narrowest gaps of furniture.
I was happier, thrilled, to find the floor absent decaying flesh and maggots. There were still gouges, stripped sheets, a bullet hole, blood spray on the ceiling, a ruined area rug rolled against the wall, and who knew what in the bathroom, but it was a start. A plastic sheet stapled over my former window rattled the air.
I flipped on the closet light. A flash of terror shot through me at the thought of the she-wolf leaned against the clawed door. I swallowed hard. “The dolls are yours if you want. I've always hated them. Don’t believe in guardian spirits, but then I crammed them in a tote and look what happened.” After shifting several boxes, during which Calico asked about the bedroom and I shorted her on answers, I found and hefted the tote onto the bed.
“Cats in dark corners are frightening enough,” I explained, snapping a nail in the process of prying off the lid. Sucking my finger, I nodded at Cal to dig through its contents. “If I ever got around to spring cleaning, I planned on selling them.”
Calico’s expression softened. Within seconds the woman was cradling a doll in blue. “What’s the wisdom in rewarding someone who broke into your home?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed, but this is, and I want it to remain, my home. It’s clear we share a common enemy, so I’d rather make friends. Besides, I’d rather the dolls belong with someone who appreciates them.”
“I concur,” she murmured, laying the doll into the tote and closing the lid. Her hand extended. “Let’s be friends.”
We shook.
“So, new friend,” I said, “last night a werewolf tore open a deputy and tried to tear me open, too. Was he one of yours?”
“No.”
I dragged the comforter from the pile of sheets and passed it to her. “Can you tell if you take a whiff?”
“I'm not a fucking bloodhound.” She chucked it on the floor and sat beside the dolls, laying a protective arm on her gift. The strength in her shoulders diminished. She cupped her face in her hands. “Wish I was. Stephen might’ve been adopted, but he’ll always be my blood, my brother. I don’t know life without him. I don’t want life without him.”
My heart ached. I sat beside her and rubbed her back. “It's been a few days since werewolves crawled out of fairytales and into my backyard, but I was wondering, are ghosts real?”
“I’ve heard tell dogs can sense the dead.” Calico’s sigh bordered on a soft whine. “Well, I’ve never sensed a soul.”
“So Stephen’s at peace,” I decided.
“I'm not.”
There was a faint tap on the wall.
