The Amazing Wolf Boy Page 27

  “What do you mean?”

  She turned onto the two-lane blacktop doing fifteen over the speed limit. After a moment, she said, “I did something you aren’t going to like. I went to the Sunshine Motel. The plan was I would search their room while the housekeeper tidied up. Only they were there. All three of them. Sleeping. When she opened the door, that guy, the one who jumped on our car, he woke up. He looked right past her. Right at me.”

  “Why would you do that? You know I didn’t want—”

  “Finding the clothes was important to you. So it was important to me,” she said. “But it didn’t work out. I decided to drive around the park instead. I didn’t exactly expect to see the clothes lying on the side of the road, and I certainly didn’t expect to see you.”

  “I love you,” I blurted.

  Her eyes widened, and she gave me a sidelong glance. I felt myself go crimson. “That didn’t come out the way I planned. What I mean is…I love you more than my life. More than the sun or the moon, or—”

  “All right, all right. Let’s not get carried away.” She laughed. Her face was beet red. After a moment, she said, “I love you, too.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  A grin spread across my face. Brittany loves me. My chest swelled and my head grew light. If not for the seatbelt, I would have floated away.

  Brittany drove the back roads through scrubby fields as if she knew the area better than she knew her own face. At first, I thought she was taking me to Uncle Bob’s—but I recognized landmarks and odors, and realized we were headed toward our secret place where we’d set up the magic circles.

  She slowed and pulled onto the grass. I was out of the car before it came to a complete stop. I circled around and opened the door for her. She looked surprised but pleased.

  As she stood, I cupped her face in my hands. Her skin was pale and flawless. With my heart pounding double time, I lowered my lips to hers. I kissed her gently, lingering. She slipped her fingers behind my neck. We stood for a moment, forehead-to-forehead and nose-to-nose.

  “Thank you for risking your life for me,” I murmured, “but don’t do it again.”

  “No promises,” she whispered.

  I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. She felt small and fragile. And precious.

  “Was my car hurt?” she asked, her voice a little high.

  I examined the Bug, expecting dents or a broken wiper, but didn’t even find a scuffmark. “No damage.”

  She gave a shaky smile. “That man was scary.”

  “Yeah.” I hugged her. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

  “Did you get the clothes?”

  “Sure did.”

  “It was worth it, then.” She pulled away and took my hand. “Come on. I’ll show you what I’ve done.”

  We walked together beneath the trees into the hidden courtyard. I saw two circles, one within the other, cut from the rough grass. A pile of supplies sat within.

  “You’ve been busy,” I said.

  “Do you like? I redid them using a trowel instead of a stick. It works really well.”

  We approached the boundary of the magic circles. I sensed a vague hum. Brittany motioned as if rapping on a pane of glass. The invisible barrier didn’t actually ring, but I got that impression.

  “And it’s easier to turn off the magic,” she said. “You don’t have to scuff out the line like before.”

  With her toe, she flipped over a chunk of the overturned grass, covering part of the perimeter. As soon as the circle was broken, the barrier popped out of existence.

  “Excellent,” I said as I stepped inside. I looked at the supplies she’d left there—cardboard boxes, a scraggly plant, two cases of bottled water. “I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve done so much.”

  “Let’s hope it works.”

  But will it? I wondered again if the magic would hold me. “Can you bring the barrier up? I want to see how it feels.”

  “Sure.” Brittany knelt. “It’s easy. You just concentrate on the purpose of the circle and complete the line.”

  She folded back the chunk of sod. Then she pricked her finger with a Celtic cross on her keychain and dripped blood on the bare dirt. The barrier sprang into place. It hummed as if it were vibrating.

  I stretched out my hand. The surface reminded me of a padded cell—it had a little give, but felt rigid when I pushed. It was transparent, but the curvature caused objects on the periphery of my vision to smear.

  Turning sideways, I rammed my shoulder into the wall. I kept hitting and bouncing back until my shoulder ached. Then I kicked, striking heel first.

  “Do you want me to let you out?” Brittany asked.

  “Not yet.” I brushed damp hair off my forehead, overheating in the closed space. “I wonder if I could tunnel underneath.”

  “Why would you worry about that?”

  “What if the wolf in me gets so desperate to survive that it comes out?” I shrugged. “Dogs like to dig.”

  “I’ll be with you to apply the potion. If the wolf shows, I’ll deal with it.” She didn’t look happy about the prospect.

  I blew out my breath. It really was getting hot. “Mind if I have one of those?” I motioned at the water. It was packaged in squirt bottles, twenty-four to a case. I figured we had plenty.

  “Are you all right in there?”

  “Don’t worry.” I flipped the cap and took a drink. The water was warm. Not very refreshing. “Hey, Brit, watch this.” I squirted water at the barrier. I thought it would hit like on a window and drip down.

  It didn’t. The stream of water went straight through. Splat! Right in Brittany’s face.

  “Cripes,” I cried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect—”

  “You did that on purpose,” she squeaked. She kicked a clod of dirt onto the circle, dropping the barrier, and dove for her own bottle of water.

  I ran, and she ran after, laughing and dousing me. I sent random shots from beneath my arm, but I was low on ammunition and doubted that I met my target. As I dodged around the courtyard, I hit a wet spot and went sprawling. She tumbled over me, and we rolled in a tangle of arms and legs.

  I landed on top. My heart raced. I became hyperaware of her body beneath mine. She squirmed and squealed. “Get off. You’re dripping.”

  I shook my head, sending my wet hair flying, spraying her. She laughed harder. “Cody, no.”

  She was so beautiful. Leaning, I kissed her brow, then her nose. She gave a little sigh. Her eyes shone. She stroked the side of my face, her fingers cool and gentle. I took her hand and kissed her palm, the soft side of her wrist. Her pulse throbbed, quickening. A groan escaped me.

  I pressed my lips to her temple, sliding them down her jaw, her neck, finally resting them in the hollow of her shoulder. I wanted to stay with her forever, just hold her in my arms in the grassy glade away from the world.

  But she’d become unnaturally still. I lifted to my elbows and looked at her. “I would never hurt you.”

  “I know that. In my heart. But my head keeps screaming that I’m alone in the woods with a handsome boy.”

  I smiled. “Handsome?”

  “The boy of my dreams.”

  Her words struck low beneath my belly. I kissed her hard, tasting her grape-soda lips, breathing in the mango scent of her skin. Reluctantly, I pulled away, got to my feet and gave her a hand up.

  Brittany cleared her throat, looking embarrassed. I didn’t know how to respond. I never had a girl say I was in her dreams before. My heart and other parts of me wanted to pull her close and kiss her again. My head knew that wasn’t a good idea.

  I walked away, looking at the magic circles. “I wonder why the water went through when I couldn’t.”

  “Maybe it only stops solid matter,” she said. “Air gets inside.”

  “Not very well. It was getting pretty hot in there.”

  “But you could breathe, right? I mean, we need oxygen to light a fire.”
<
br />   “Yeah, I could,” I said, “but just to be on the safe side, I think when we start cooking the potion we should leave the barrier down. We don’t want the flames to go out when we aren’t here.”

  “You’re the boss.” Grinning, she dumped the remainder of her bottle over my head.

  “Thanks. Now I don’t have to shower for dinner tomorrow.”

  “Ugh. Dinner.” She smacked herself on the forehead. “I’m supposed to be boiling eggs. I have to get home.”

  “Eggs?”

  “Yeah, my mother loves to decorate. Remember to ooh and aah.”

  I smiled. “I promise to be properly impressed.”

  “She’s going to love you.”

  We walked arm-in-arm to the car, and she drove me to my uncle’s house. She pulled into the driveway, then leaned to give me a kiss.

  “Pick you up at two, all right?”

  “Should I bring anything?”

  “Please, no. We have more food than we know what to do with. Mom always goes overboard.”

  “All right, then. See you tomorrow.” I got out of the car, slinging my backpack over my shoulder, and waved as she drove away. My damp shirt clung as I moved, and I grinned like it was a secret joke.

  Howard, Rita, and Uncle Bob were in the living room as I came through the door.

  “Cody,” my uncle yelped, hopping up from the arm of the recliner. “I thought you were asleep in your room.”

  “Nah. I had to go get our clothes.” I dropped the backpack onto the floor with a satisfying thud.

  Three pairs of eyes stared at me. I wiggled my brows.

  “Were you seen?” Rita asked in a husky whisper.

  I nodded. “They were there.”

  Uncle Bob groaned. “You’re just egging them on, boy.”

  I bristled. “Would you rather they blackmailed us?”

  “I’d rather you let the adults handle this.”

  I glared at him. Where was my pat on the back, my well done, boy? I could have been killed for all he cared.

  Howard dumped the backpack onto the floor. There was a puff of dust and a bounce of pebbles. “Looks like everything is here. Problem solved.”

  “One of them, anyway,” Uncle Bob mumbled.

  “What other is there?” I blurted.

  “You!” He jabbed his finger at me. “I can’t have you climbing out your window anytime you feel like it.”

  “Now, Bob,” Rita said.

  He waved his arm. “He doesn’t even understand the situation.”

  Howard gathered the filthy clothes. “I’ll drop these into the washing machine.”

  “I’ll help,” my uncle snapped.

  They walked down the hall. It was all I could do to keep from stomping out of the house. “So, now I’m too young? Too stupid?”

  “Of course not,” Rita said. “He didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Sure sounded like it.”

  “Sit down.” She motioned to the kitchen chair Howard had vacated.

  I pulled it closer and sat. She reached to pat my hand. I saw that the movement pained her. “Bob and I have been through this type of thing before,” she said. “Some people are animals. You can’t go to the police about it. You’re pretty much on your own.”

  “I know that. Why do you think I went to get the clothes?”

  “It was a brave thing to do. But if you had taken Bob and Howard with you, there would have been backup. It would have been three against three.”

  I opened my mouth, then closed it again, my shoulders slumping. If Brittany hadn’t happened by, the pack would have torn me to shreds. I was lucky to be alive.

  “Bob loves you, Cody. But aside from that, he’s your guardian. He feels responsible.”

  “Well, I feel responsible, too,” I told her in a low voice. “It’s kind of my fault the pack came after us in the first place. You see, I found out where they were staying, and I confronted the leader.”

  “You what?” Uncle Bob bellowed behind me.

  I jumped. I hadn’t realized he was there.

  “That does it,” he yelled. “From now on, you don’t go anywhere without my expressed permission. Do you understand? You are grounded.”

  “Fine.” I stood so quickly, the chair toppled onto the floor. “May I still go to Brittany’s house for dinner tomorrow? They’re expecting me.”

  “Yes,” he hissed, his eyes savage. “But I’ll drive you.”

  I nodded once to show I understood. I was so mad I didn’t trust my voice.

  “All right,” he said, looking away. Dismissing me. “Wait in your room until nightfall.”

  “I’m not going out with you tonight.” I scowled. “I think I’ll turn in early.”

  “Aren’t you coming with us?” Rita asked, her eyes wide.

  “I don’t feel like shifting.”

  “Don’t feel,” Uncle Bob sputtered. “Don’t you have to?”

  I glared at him. “The night after the full? No. I don’t have to.”

  Emotions crossed his face—anger, disbelief, but most of all, fear. Rita’s eyes widened further, until she looked like a caricature.

  I’d said something wrong. I shouldn’t have told them I could control the shift. But it was too late to back down now. I went to my room thinking I didn’t fit in anywhere. I was as lousy at being a werewolf as I was at being a boy.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  As it turned out, stopping the shift wasn’t as easy as I let on. I spent most of the night feverish and shaky. I remained human, but got little sleep. As a result, it was after one in the afternoon when I finally rolled out of bed.

  I showered and shaved, appraising myself in the steamy mirror. I’d need a haircut soon. It was brushing my shoulders. In my room, I pulled the dress shirt off a hanger in my closet. The wrinkles hadn’t fallen out as I’d hoped. I slipped it on. It was tight across the shoulder. Then I noticed the sleeves came to only mid-arm. Cripes. Had it shrunk? I tugged the cuffs, but it was no use. The shirt didn’t fit.

  Frantically, I dragged out the box of clothes from the back of my closet. There had to be a better shirt I could wear. But every one of them was too small. What happened? I chose a light-blue shirt that was a little roomier, left the collar open, and rolled the cuffs to my elbows. Not the look I was going for, considering it was my first time meeting Brittany’s mother, but it would have to do.

  I knew my brown pants hadn’t shrunk. They still had tailor chalk on them. Mom bought them just before Christmas for my trip to France, but I decided at the last minute not to pack them. I brushed off the chalk and tried on the pants. The waist fit fine. With a sigh of relief, I looked down.

  Three inches of ankle showed. “Oh, no!”

  I dove into the box, tossing clothes onto my bed. Every pair of pants I found was too short. What was wrong with them? I couldn’t have grown that much in four months.

  As I brought out another armload of clothes, my shirt ripped. I felt along the shoulder seam and found bare skin.

  I groaned. “Oh, no.”

  “Something wrong?” Uncle Bob said from my doorway.

  “You think? I can’t go like this.”

  He eyed me up and down, looking like he was trying not to laugh.

  I jammed my fingers into my hair, not caring if I was making it stand up straight. “Can you drive me to the mall?”

  “Don’t know that it’s open on Easter Sunday. But Howard is. Let’s go.”

  I squeezed my feet into my dress shoes. They were tight but wearable. As I tied the laces, my shirt ripped further.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  Uncle Bob waited in the truck. I got in and slammed the door. He was down the drive and on the street before I’d finished belting in. “Did you tell Brittany I was driving you?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I called her last night.”

  “And you didn’t shift?”

  “No.” I raised my voice. “Why is that so awful?”

  He took his time answering. I had the impre
ssion he was choosing his words. “There are all types of werewolf,” he said. “It’s just genetics. Usually we feel the urge two days before the full moon, the night of the full, and two days after. Some wolves shift more often. I heard of one or two who could shift even on a new moon.” He nodded, brows raised as if repeating something unbelievable. “And then there are those who don’t shift at all, just get stomach cramps once a month and never know why. What I’m saying is there are the stronger and the weaker. But that doesn’t mean one wolf is better than another. And it doesn’t mean being one of us is better than, you know, being regular.”

  Point taken—I was not better than him. “Did you ever want to stop being a wolf?”

  He chuckled. “More times than I can tell you. As I said, it’s a hard life.”

  I thought of telling him about the potion Brittany and I planned to brew for the new moon, but I was still angry with him for grounding me. Besides, there was a chance it wouldn’t work.

  We pulled to a stop before Howard’s house. He was in the process of dragging his wares back into the garage. Most of the tables were empty. I sighed, never so glad to see him. As I jumped out of the truck, the seat of my pants ripped. I slammed the door double hard.

  “Hullo,” Howard called as we approached. “That’s a new look for you.”

  “I’m supposed to be at Brit’s in half an hour,” I said, “and every decent thing I own is too small.”

  He nodded. “It’s the curse.”

  “Of being a werewolf?” I whispered.

  “Of being a teenage boy,” he said.

  I blinked in surprise. This was normal?

  He walked to a clothes rack at the back of the garage. “I have a few white shirts. Short-sleeved.” He took one out and shook it. “Dusty.”

  “Will you accept my debit card?” I asked.

  “I’ll pay,” Uncle Bob said.

  “Nah. I’ll just take it in trade.” Howard motioned at my ripped shirt. He waited for me to strip it off, then whistled. “Nice label.”

  I grimaced. “I have a whole box of this junk. You can have it.”

  “Deal.”

  I took the shirt he offered. It was a little yellow under the arms, but it fit fine. “Do you have any dress slacks?”