Black Wolf (23 page)

"Elves."

"Well... like
I said, the stories are warped seriously. Elves are always
light-skinned and blonde and usually average height or above, and
there's no such thing as an overweight elf—unhealthily skinny
elves, yes. You going to try to tell me you didn't even notice how
Lori and I and most of the other tall blondes you might've seen in
Haven look?"

It took all
his self-control to be still and wait for Jesse's reaction. He was
so deathly afraid of being mistrusted and feared, he'd had enough
of that for a lifetime. Even if he'd brought it on himself.

And if Jesse
stopped trusting him?

That he
couldn't do anything about except hope.

Jesse sighed,
expression one of resignation. "I should've expected something
weird like this, after what I've seen. I've definitely been hanging
around here too long. The urge to do something drastic and
hysterical isn't even very strong."

Something
inside released. Truth rang below the words, and Kevin could pick
up nothing on the surface suggesting deception. Jesse really saw
nothing to fear.

Kevin had to
fight a sudden urge to hug him. "That's good. My coven would be
less than impressed with me if you did that."

"Weren't
supposed to tell?"

"Not exactly,
it's only... it's a risk, on our part. Most of what keeps Haven
safe is that we make sure we aren't noticed."

Jesse snorted
derisively. "Not much risk. Who'd believe me? I'm not exactly a
reliable source. Elves and witches and healers... yeah, right, like
anyone would listen to me. So. Are healers exactly human? Or is
there something for earth?"

"We call them
dryads. The stories about them are just as messed up. However, if
you want to know more about dryads, you can go find Deanna or
Gisela and ask." He just hoped neither would be mad that he'd told.
Although given Gisela's oft-repeated opinion that they should just
tell Jess all about Haven, she at least would probably be
delighted. "Dryads are a bit harder to spot, but think in terms of
shades of brown, usually darker rather than lighter, and about
two-thirds of them are female. There are human healers, though, and
not all dryads are healers. And like I said, water and air, there's
nothing we know of. Witches are human and work with all four
elements, although they usually have tendencies towards one. Elves
and dryads can both interbreed with humans, but not with each
other, which is part of why no one's figured out precise
definitions yet."

"Elves and
dryads and witches... lord, what a place. Anyway. You have homework
to do. Thank you for the honest answer, I'm going to go rethink my
view of the world. Again."

"All right. We
didn't know what to get, by way of music, you're welcome to borrow
anything of mine you want."

"What, Flynn's
cards couldn't tell him? Maybe later. Good luck with the
homework."

"I need
it."

Jess departed,
but he left Kevin feeling like a hypocrite. Lying by omission, not
telling him about wolves, was still lying. The three covens and
their friends had discussed it, and decided Jesse deserved answers
when he started really asking questions, but disagreement remained
about how far to go and what to let him discover himself.

It will be
so nice when all this is over,
he thought wistfully.
When
Jess knows what he is, and there are no more secrets. I really
don't like secrets. Maybe soon.

17

The phone
rang; Jesse abandoned his painting, and raced downstairs to get
it.

"Hello."

"Hi,
Jess."

Gisela's
voice. "Hi. Nobody else is around, if you're looking for someone in
particular."

"I'm looking
for you in particular. Busy?"

"Just painting
Kev's and my bathroom. I can leave it if something's up."

"Will you do
something for me?"

"Sure."

"Come meet me
in the village? I'll wait for you in front of the library,
okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be
there shortly. Just let me get cleaned up, I'm all paint.
Everything okay?"

"Just... I
need you to come. Please? I'll explain when you get here. Don't
kill yourself getting here, you better take a shower if you're that
much of a mess, but don't take all night."

"No
problem."

"See you in a
little while, then. Bye."

"Bye."

Puzzled, he
had a quick shower, getting rid of as much of the pale-blue paint
as he could—he'd never claimed to be neat about painting—and
changed into his own clothes instead of the older jeans and T-shirt
Flynn had given him for messy work. He left the house and headed
for the village proper at a fairly rapid walk, clean, if
perplexed.

Gisela was
perched on the wooden bench in the middle of the library's grassy
yard, waiting impatiently.

"It's about
time. Come on, I'm thirsty, I want to go get a drink."

"Why did I
have to come down here right now?"

"Oh, relax.
I'll tell you in a minute." She got up, and started down the
sidewalk. He fell into step behind her, around the corner, and to
the end of that block.

"There's a
cool place called the Brewery," Gisela said. "Kevin told me it's a
bad pun on witches' brews, but I don't know if he was teasing me or
not. That might actually be it, 'cause the owner is related to Kev
and Lori and he was Kevin's teacher in magic. There's no sign, that
way no tourists wandering through can find it."

"So why are
you telling me?"

"Because you
aren't an outsider any more. And you won't tell anybody else. You
can see it from here, any guesses?"

Jess
considered the street. There was a post office, and a garage, and a
store with a sign that said
Venus Alive
, and a hairdresser,
and otherwise only a few huge old-looking houses, most with
impressive yards, some with small signs visible suggesting that
they were now at least partly businesses rather than homes.

"No idea."

Gisela bounced
up onto the porch of the house at the corner, the one with the
privacy fence around the back yard. "This one." The porch was
large, spanned both outer faces, and all along the top were carved
fantastic animals: dragons, strange-looking birds, hybrids,
something he seemed to recall was a gryphon. Just over the door was
a carved cauldron with a bird with a long trailing tail flying out
of it. A bench was built along the wall, the arms and legs and the
ridge along the back similarly adorned. The steps up at the corner
led to double doors. Beyond them was a second set of doors.

Within lay a
wild cross between modern and medieval. The floor was hardwood,
wooden beams and pillars supported the ceiling, the tables and
chairs were all made of genuine heavy wood. The room was L-shaped,
with a bar along one of the walls diagonal from them, patio doors
on the other showing only the last traces of snow at the moment.
Winter in Haven was milder than he'd expected so far north; he
could only assume some kind of supernatural influence. Although
Cynthia would probably say that everything a witch did was within
nature.

"Come
on
," Gisela insisted when he paused to scan the room warily.
She caught his hand, and led him to the back part of the L-shaped
room.

"Well, hello
there," a familiar voice said teasingly from one of the larger
tables. Kevin waved to the two empty seats between him and Flynn,
the only ones vacant at the crowded table. "Do join us."

"I'm getting
the distinct feeling this is a set-up," Jesse said, but took the
seat beside Kevin when Gisela took the other.

Deanna
laughed. "Y'see, you weren't here for your birthday, which we found
out was exactly two weeks ago, so we decided to celebrate it
today."

"Better late
than never," Gisela said. "How old did you turn?"

"Uh...
eighteen.
I
didn't even remember my damned birthday!"

"Well, we did
for you," Flynn said. "Happy birthday belatedly."

"Gotcha,"
Gisela said gleefully. "And you thought I was in trouble."

"So, let's
party," Cynthia said. "Money's no problem."

Nick came over
to deliver menus.

"Finally got
you here, huh? Want me to get drinks right away?"

Quick
decisions, and he left to get them while they spent more time on
choosing food. Most of the appetizers on the menu, to be shared
between them, before the range of entrées.

After supper,
they went for a lengthy walk in the cool spring night, and stopped
to rent a couple of movies. There were presents, when they got back
to the house.

His mind
offered up images of Christmas mornings and birthdays, of expensive
presents that for the most part he didn't want and yet was expected
to be grateful for. He winced away from the memories. He'd be just
as happy to forget holidays altogether.

Except here he
was sitting in a circle with six people who each had a present for
him, and he had no doubts at all that this was utterly
different.

Flynn's was a
single silver earring, he said to replace the old silver crescent
stud through Jesse's left ear; the new one was a crescent moon on a
short chain. There was a necklace to match, the same crescent on a
silver chain. He switched immediately, and clasped the necklace
into place. Moon symbolism had always appealed to him, maybe
because of his natural tendency to be nocturnal, and these were
simple but just right.

Kevin's was
silver and bronze in a very different form: a dagger with a six
inch blade, and interestingly, the minimal adornment on the
graceful hilt and sheath was all lunar.

*It took me
hours to fix the spells on my knife, y'know.* Jesse started, found
Kevin watching him, grinning. The words formed clearly in his mind,
unmistakably Kevin's voice. *If you ever, ever touch any of my
tools again...* There was laughter behind the threat.

"Why are you
blushing?" Deanna demanded. "Kev, what did you just say to him to
make him blush that red?"

"Oh, nothing,"
Kevin said innocently. *Since you were so interested in mine, I
thought I'd get you one.*

The dagger
felt good in his hand; he drew it, half expecting another painful
shock, but nothing happened. Only metal. It felt... almost
familiar. Comfortable. He slid it back into the sheath, and laid it
beside him on the floor to see what was next. Doing his best to get
his blushing under control. He should've expected Kevin to know,
after everything he'd seen the mage do!

Deanna's was a
length of wood, bent so the ends were crossed and lashed together,
with what looked like a silvery spider's web woven in the middle,
small beads shimmering like dewdrops in it, and feathers
dangling.

"It's a
dream-catcher," she explained. "You hang it by your bed, and the
good dreams are funnelled through the hole in the middle to you,
and the bad dreams are caught until sunrise when they die. I made
it."

"Hey, that's
cool. Who invented them?"

"They're a
Native tradition."

Cynthia gave
him a new Walkman, which delighted him—his old one had gotten
beyond all repair a month ago, and he hadn't had a chance to steal
a new one yet. This one was better than any he'd ever had, she'd
even included an upgraded set of earphones, and he decided
instantly to keep it out of sight when he went back to the
city.

He opened the
box that held Bane's, discovered a new pair of black jeans, and a
black leather vest. The jeans were the right size; he stripped off
the sweatshirt he was wearing so he could try the vest. Why wasn't
he surprised it fit?

"You look
good," Deanna told him.

Gisela
lingered on the fringes until he was done the rest, then handed him
a small box. Inside was yet more silver—a ring, shaped like a snake
holding its tail in its mouth.

"That's a
promise-ring," Deanna said, plainly surprised. "What promise,
kitten?"

Gisela looked
down, and blushed. "Just... friendship. And truth for truth,
always."

"That's about
standard," Kevin said, flashing Gisela a quick smile. She returned
it, tentatively.

Jesse tried it
on. It fit perfectly on the ring-finger of his right hand. How did
they
manage
things like that? It was one thing for clothes,
easy enough to check anything he wasn't wearing, but
ring
size
? Truth for truth... that was something to think about.

"Now I'm all
set," he laughed. "C'mere, you."

Uncertainly,
she came. Squealed when he hugged her, but she hugged him back
before escaping.

Eventually,
they did get to bed.

Jesse left the
silver-and-bronze dagger in reach, on the table by the bed, and
hung the dream-catcher above him, in the window.

No nightmares
troubled him, but his dreams were a confusion of trying to choose
the path through a forest that would take him where he so
desperately wanted to go, when the map he held showed him only a
path that led the wrong way into a desert.