Martin Millar - Lonely Werewolf Girl (27 page)

Having memorised her street map, Dominil reached the house
easily enough. It was larger and in better repair than she had been
expecting. There was nothing to distinguish it from the other houses in
the street, apart from the curtains being closed. She rang the bell for
a long time. No one answered, though Dominil's sharp ears could hear
noises within. She stretched over from the steps and rapped her fist on
the front window. The door eventually opened. Beauty stood looking at
her, her eyes not quite focused.

"Dominil?"

"Yes. You were expecting me, I believe."

"Was I?"

"I understand the Mistress of the Werewolves informed you - "

Beauty fell backwards, landing heavily on the floor. Dominil
stepped inside. The house stank of whisky. The twins had been indulging
heavily in the MacRinnalch malt sent by Verasa. Dominil closed the
door, stepped over Beauty and walked into the front room where she
found Delicious lying unconscious on the floor with a young man lying
beside her, also unconscious. There were empty bottles of whisky
everywhere, and the floor was so covered with every sort of junk that
it was hard to find a place to put her feet. Dominil stared without
expression at the scene. Obviously, reports of the twins' behaviour
were not exaggerated. Dominil bent down to check on Delicious, and
turned her on her side, in case she vomited while asleep. She returned
to the hall, did the same for Beauty, then opened a window to let some
air into the fetid rooms.

Dominil located the kitchen, intending to make coffee. The
mess she found was beyond description. It looked as if no one had ever
cleaned any plate, table, or kitchen surface. No one had ever mopped
the floor no matter what was spilled on it and no one had taken out the
rubbish. Even filling the kettle was a daunting task. There was so much
debris in the sink that it took some time to clear enough space for the
kettle to fit under the tap.

Dominil took this all in. She saw already that the twins'
behaviour would have to be modified if she was to help them. As she
arrived back in the living room carrying a tray of coffee, the young
man stirred, and opened his eyes.

"Do you live here?" enquired the werewolf.

"No," he mumbled, and reached toward a quarter-full bottle of
whisky that lay close by. Dominil intercepted his hand and hauled him
to his feet.

"Then it's time to go," she said, and propelled him towards
the front door. He protested, but though he was some inches taller than
Dominil his strength was as nothing compared to hers. She placed him on
the front step, closed the door, then picked up Beauty from the hallway
and carried her into the main room. She swept some clutter from the
couch and sat both the twins down.

"Wake up," said Dominil. "We have things to do."

77

"Can't you cancel for me?" said Thrix, almost plaintively.

"Absolutely not," said Ann, and sounded stern.

"New York might phone back, it's still business hours there."

"I can take a message."

"You will not take a message," insisted Thrix. "Put the call
through to me at the restaurant."

Ann agreed, though unwillingly. She felt that Thrix's date
wouldn't want their dinner to be spoiled by a business phone call. The
Enchantress was adamant.

"I have to speak to them soon. I really shouldn't be going out
to dinner."

"Stop looking for excuses," said Ann. "You're going on this
date and that's final."

"Since when was it part of your job description to bully me
into going out on dates?"

"Since you started moping round the office and complaining
about not having a man," answered Ann.

"I never moped. The occasional comment, maybe."

Thrix was still searching for reasons not to go, but apart
from saying that she wasn't really in the mood, she could find no
further objections.

"Once you get to the restaurant, you'll be in the mood. It's
almost a year since you had a date. Now go out and have a good time."

Ann was not certain why her employer, so successful in other
fields, had such difficulties in dating. Someone as beautiful,
intelligent and successful as Thrix shouldn't have so much trouble
finding a suitable man. Unfortunately, after a string of failed
romances Thrix now seemed to have lost all confidence.

"The last man 1 had dinner with turned out to be a divorce
casualty. All he wanted to talk about was his ex-wife. After an hour I
felt like calling her and congratulating her on getting rid of him."

Ann brushed this aside.

"Donald Carver is very eligible and he's never been married.
And he's attractive and he works in films so you'll have something
interesting to talk about."

"What if I don't want to talk about films? And why did he ask
me out anyway? Is he on the rebound from some doomed relationship? Are
you sure about this outfit?"

"As sure as I was the other ten times you asked me. And he
isn't on the rebound from a relationship, he hasn't had a girlfriend
for a while."

"So what's the matter with him?" asked Thrix. "Is he really
dull?"

"Your taxi is waiting," said Ann, and ushered the Enchantress
out of the office. "Have a good time. "

Thrix took the lift to the ground floor and stepped
unwillingly into her taxi. Donald Carver was indeed a personable man,
and reasonably attractive. Unfortunately Thrix's run of bad luck in
romance had left her pessimistic. She was expecting something to go
wrong. She wondered how old he was. Around thirty, she thought. Which
was about what Thrix was in human terms, although she was actually
almost eighty years old. She wondered what her date would say if he
knew he was about to have dinner with an eighty year old werewolf.

The clan frowned on werewolves dating humans, fearing that
their true nature might be discovered. Thrix disregarded this. No one
could tell that the blonde-haired fashion designer was a werewolf, not
even an experienced hunter. The Enchantress was too well masked by her
own sorcery ever to be discovered. Except by Malveria, of course. She
had known right away. It was very difficult to hide anything from the
Fire Queen by sorcery. In her own dimension she was virtually
invulnerable to its effects, and even in this world, only the most
powerful spells could work against her.

Malveria had walked up to Thrix at an after-show party and
said in a loud voice, "I've never met a werewolf fashion designer
before." Thrix had been alarmed, thinking at first this must be a
hunter, till her senses told her otherwise. She leaned over to whisper
in Malveria's ear. "And I've never met a Hiyasta at a fashion show
before. But I'm prepared to be discreet about it if you'll stop yelling
out in public that I'm a werewolf."

"Is it a secret?"

"Yes."

"Then it will be our secret," said Malveria, smiling sweetly.
"Of course we Hiyastas are never in the best of friendship with
werewolves, but who could not like a werewolf who designed such a
beautiful collection of frocks?"

They had hit it off right away, becoming friends on the spot.
Their mutual love for fashion seemed to make their historical
antagonism quite irrelevant. Because, as the Fire Queen said, when you
considered how important one's outfits were, what did it really matter
if, nine hundred years ago, Murdo MacRinnalch had grossly insulted her
grandmother Queen Malgravane? And Thrix agreed, saying that if Queen
Malgravane had quite unnecessarily taken offence at a mere slip of the
tongue by her great-grandfather Murdo, it really wasn't something to be
troubling oneself over these days. Soon afterwards Malveria adopted the
Enchantress as her fashion advisor, designer and supplier, an
association which had proved beneficial to them both.

Thrix fell to thinking about her designs for Malveria being
stolen. She was still preoccupied when she arrived at the restaurant
and looked blankly at the man who strode up to her.

"Yes?"

"I'm your date."

"Of course," said Thrix, and smiled, though she was now
feeling distracted by her problems. As she had arrived slightly late,
they sat down immediately at their table. The waiter brought them their
menus.

"I think I'll - " began Donald, when Thrix's phone rang.

"Sorry," said Thrix. "Important business call, it won't take
long."

It wasn't her business call. It was her mother.

"Thrix," began Verasa. "Have you checked on Kalix
yet? I believe that Sarapen may - "

"Mother, I can't talk about this just now."

"Why not?"

"I'm in a restaurant."

"Are you so hungry you cannot delay eating for a
moment?"

"I'm not on my own."

"Ah," said the Mistress of the Werewolves. "Are you with Ann?"

"No."

"You mean you're on a date? With a human?"

"Yes."

"My dear daughter, is that wise? I know you haven't been able
to attract a suitable werewolf but consider the difficulties. Humans
are very short lived you know, and rarely react well to learning that
they're associating with a werewolf."

"Mother, this is really not the time - "

"I'm just trying to be helpful. If you'd said you were trying
to meet someone I would have introduced you to that nice Andrew
MacRinnalch who was at the castle for the funeral. He's qualified as a
lawyer now, you know."

Thrix groaned inside. Andrew MacRinnalch, a distant cousin,
was possibly the most boring werewolf in the clan.

"With his own practice in Edinburgh," continued Verasa.

"I really have to go," said Thrix, sharply. "I'll call you
later about Kalix. Bye."

Thrix put her phone away and apologised to her partner at the
table.

"My mother. Always picks the wrong time to call."

Donald took this all calmly, naturally. He'd been wanting to
ask Thrix out for some time and having finally worked up his nerve,
after some discreet encouragement from Ann, he wasn't going to spoil
things by objecting to a phone call. They studied their menus while
making some small talk about the business they'd been involved in that
day.

"I have some fabric coming from Korea - "

Thrix broke off as her phone rang. It had to be New York.

"Hello?"

"Thrix. It's Markus. I'm coming to London and there's a lot we
should discuss. Mother wants you to - "

"I'm busy," said Thrix. "I'm at dinner."

"Business?"

"No."

"You mean you're on a date?" Markus sounded amused. "Then I
should certainly not detain you, sister. After all, it's not often you
go out on a date."

"No, it isn't," said Thrix, pointedly, and hung up the phone.

"My brother," she said, apologetically to Donald. "Shall we
order?"

It was the night after the full moon. All of the MacRinnalchs
were in werewolf form, except Thrix. She remained as human, by her own
choice. She could prevent the change by sorcery. It took some effort,
but it might be worth it if the date went well.

78

Thrix was not the only member of family trying to combine
their personal life with the demands of the clan. Markus was on the
phone to Talixia, telling her that he would be back in London shortly.
Dominil was sobering up the twins and attempting to make them
understand that she was here to help. Sarapen was consulting his
advisors, rebuilding his walls and gathering his troops. At the castle
Lucia was saying goodbye to some of the werewolves who had travelled
over the oceans to be at the funeral. She assured them that the matter
of the Thaneship would be sorted out as quickly as possible. Lucia was
a very charming werewolf, and quite reassuring.

Tupan sat in his chambers and reflected that, all things
considered, the meetings of the Great Council had gone rather well. If
the weakling Markus was ever installed as Thane, the clan would surely
find him an unsatisfactory leader, and look for another.

Kalix, in werewolf form, was sitting on the couch at Daniel
and Moonglow's with the TV guide in her lap, trying to decipher the
columns of writing, most of which were as illegible to her as
Moon-glow's Sumerian cuneiform. She wondered if Daniel might be
misleading her about the frequency of Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Kalix
was used to people misleading her. She studied the word
Sabrina
,
fixing it in her mind so she could recognise it again, then awkwardly
turned the pages with her werewolf paw, searching for the name.

"Aha!" she yelled, suddenly.

So strange was it to hear a werewolf shout
A ha
!
that Daniel and Moonglow both burst out
laughing.

"What's funny?" said Kalix, self-consciously.

"Nothing," said Moonglow. "What is it?"

Kalix pointed eagerly to a page in the TV guide which, she was
quite certain, contained the word
Sabrina
twice
in a row. On the next page, which she thought meant the next day, it
appeared twice again.

"It's on more!"

Daniel shook his head ruefully. He explained to Kalix that
while it was true the channel in the listings she was studying did show
more Sabrina, they didn't have that channel.

"It's a cable channel. We only have terrestrial."

Kalix found this baffling.

"Get it now!" she said, enthusiastically.

"I'm afraid it costs money. Yes, there are ninety channels
in that TV guide but we only have five of
them."

Kalix looked crushed.

"But they show more Sabrina," she said. "And cartoons in the
day."

"We wouldn't want ninety TV channels," said Moonglow. "TV is
bad, you shouldn't waste all your time watching it."

"I don't understand," said Kalix.

"Well may you not," said Daniel. "Who wouldn't want more TV
channels? But Moonglow's sort of anti-TV. So anti-TV in fact that when
her mother offered to pay for a cable connection as a birthday present,
she refused."