Rejecting Him

As soon as I awoke, naked and alone under cover of a large bush, I hurried to the tree and got dress as quickly as I could. I fumbled with my phone to turn it on. My hands were shaking harder than they ever had before.

I have to call Dad! I thought, frightened.

Though he had told me to call Charles in an emergency, this was beyond anything Charles could do. In wolf culture, both were- and otherwise, one wolf entering the territory of another was considered a direct threat. I could very well kill this wolf for what it had done, and in fact, I wanted to, desperately. I was freaked out beyond words and feeling far too vulnerable to want to allow the wolf to get away with its transgression. But the pack would know. Everybody knew everybody, and my actions would get back to them, casting me in the dangerous light of an out-of-control rogue. This was something Dad needed to handle on his own.

The phone rang and rang, and with each ring my agitation doubled. I fought to steady my breathing; if I was in a full-on panic, how the hell would he understand a damn thing I was saying? A long beep finally sounded on the other end of the line, followed by Dad's answering machine message. I groaned and leaned back against the tree.

Why me?

"Hello, you have reached Ken Greenwood. I'm afraid I can't get to the phone right now. Please leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you." Beeeep.

I let out a shaky breath. This was the best I could do for now; I didn't have time for a middle man, and I knew Dad wouldn't want me going through one either. He'd lit into other wolves for less.

"Hey Dad, it's me, Callie. I-I think a werewolf was in my territory. But it wasn't one of ours." I paused and bit my lip. What else was there to say? "I love you. Bye."

With that, I hung up and curled into a little ball. I had to hold it together. As the Alpha's daughter, the rest of the pack would expect nothing less from me.

***

I kept trying Dad, but I didn't hear back, so I finally called Charles.

"Hey, it's Callie," I said when Charles picked up.

"Oh, hi. How're you doing?"

"Fine, fine. Listen, something happened a couple days ago. There was another wolf in my territory."

Silence on the other end. The tension around me felt as hard and as delicate as glass that would shatter at any moment. I took a breath and spoke again.

"Charles?"

"I'm still here, Cal. When did you discover the wolf?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oaks Bottom. Umm…. Near the area where all the frogs are. You know, where you can't take your dogs? That area." I had to wrack my brain to remember. Transformations weren't all that different from a night of drinking-- you black out, pass out, and wake up the next morning wondering what the hell happened. There's even a nice hangover thrown in to boot. I usually sought out my hangover cure at Burger King.

"Okay." A pen scratched on the other end of the line. My anxiety eased up, but only just a little. "And his scent? Not the werewolf scent but the other."

"Cologne. Cinnamon and musk, I think. It's…gross. But not as bad as Axe."

A low chuckle from Charles. "That's good to know."

"Listen, I gotta talk to Dad. Do you have any idea why he's not answering? Seriously, this is a pretty big deal. I'm scared over here, and that smell? I've smelled it before. There's a werewolf here that isn't one of our own."

"Calm down, calm down. I'll make sure it gets back to Ken."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to binge on chocolate."

Normally I wouldn't have minded Charles's black humor, but this wasn't the time for it. "Thank you," I said softly. It was all I could say. Inside, I was screaming with rage and fear.

Over the next few days, both with work and friends, I kept smelling the phantom werewolf. It was beyond infuriating to have to put on a brave face when I felt I was going to break down at any minute. What were Dad and Charles doing? Were Dad's bodyguards even there? I felt like a crazy person, looking over my shoulder the way I did. Every night, I checked and double-checked my locks. If I saw my neighbors, I told them to keep an eye out for any strange people near my apartment. They told me they would, but when none of us were certain about what we were looking for, I wasn't sure how helpful they could be.

***

At work, I thought I was safe. The department store was large and sprawling, not to mention brightly-lit. If I worked registers there were at least three other cashiers with me. On the floor I also wasn't alone, plus I felt like I had some kind of cover while straightening the shelves. That didn't mean I felt less anxious, though. The smell was there whether I liked it or not.

A finger tapped my shoulder, causing me to yelp. I whirled around to find my coworker, Faye, grinning at me. She was a pretty Afro-Latina with thick, wavy black hair swept into a ponytail and sparkling brown eyes.

"Wow, paranoid much?" she joked. I quickly set my face in a smile to match her own.

"No! No. Not at all, You just walk quietly," I replied a little too hastily. In truth, I'd heard her perfectly. Nothing escapes the hearing of a werewolf. But with that other werewolf on the prowl, I had been far too distracted to function anymore.

Faye eyed me cautiously. "Um…okay. Well, I'm going on my break, and the schedule says you're covering me." Her smile returned, taking on a wry edge. "Shouldn't be too difficult. Mens and kids."

I fought the urge to groan, or kick something. Kids section was my least favorite place to clean because it seemed like the job was never done. If I turned my back on the shelves or headed to the stock room to shrink wrap a toy that had been opened, I'd come back to find the area messed up again. Truth be told, it was the norm for any and every retail store, but it seemed worse in the kids department.

Faye snickered and pranced away, weaving around the store to make it look like she was checking the "Shrink Highway"--or, the areas where we experienced the most shoplifting. (AKA, shrink.) Like me, she just wanted to get on her break without getting pulled aside for a customer. That fifteen minutes of break time we got was our opportunity to regain our sanity.

I, on the other hand, headed to the Mens section. Here we had not only clothes, but items like hats, sandals, and electronic accessories like earbuds and tablet cases. I started by checking for clothes that had fallen on the floor or were carefully tossed on top of the racks. In our store lingo, these were the "overs" and "unders", and we were trained to look for these first and replace them when straightening the department. Admittedly, I had a bit of trouble in Mens; where women's clothing was varied in style and appearance, mens clothes all looked alike.

Almost as soon as I started replacing overs and unders, I caught his scent. Musk and cinnamon--his personal scent--with the underlying blood and wet dog smell. A few feet off a line had formed at the registers, but that didn't stop me from freezing where I stood. I edged forward carefully, trying to make it look like I was still working, when really I was searching for the smell's source. My eyes scanned the customers in Mens and Kids. A balding man and his young daughter were looking at our (gaudy, in my opinion) Monster High dresses, and a long-haired, lanky boy was examining a pair of Rasta-colored headphones. I looked around one more time, but the smell faded, and the line cleared. My heart sank. Never in my life had I felt so alone in my fear.

After work, I drove up to eighty-second avenue and pulled into one of the parking lots in Eastport Plaza. I didn't shop at Walmart all that often but this time I had to. I wouldn't feel safe tonight without a baseballl bat. If that wolf was following me--and I was sure that's what it was doing--then there was no doubt in my mind that it would soon be in my home.

The bat rested in my lap on the drive home. A grim smile slowly spread across my face.

"Just try me, bitch."