Wolf Ways (The Madison Wolves Book 9) (48 page)

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Authors: Robin Roseau

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BOOK: Wolf Ways (The Madison Wolves Book 9)
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“This one has gotten lippy, Portia.”

“Wolves like to banter,” Portia said.

“They just don’t like to let humans banter back,” I muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Try as I might, Monique wouldn’t tell me anything else, and Portia insisted she had never met the woman. Finally I said, “There’s something you’re not telling me, Monique. Is this some sort of practical joke?”

“No, Zoe!” she said. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Does she have two heads?”

“Only one.”

“Buck teeth? You can tell me now so I won’t stare.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her teeth,” Monique said.

“How close to my age is she?”

“She’s a few years older than my mom.”

Her mom had appeared younger than I was, so I thought that was okay. Then I thought about how she said it.

“How many years older?”

“A few.”

“A few as in less than ten?”

“Um.”

“Less than twenty?”

“Of course!”

“How many years older, Monique?”

“Eleven.”

That made her older than I was, but not egregiously older. “You could have told me that. That’s not so bad.” I paused. “Monique, I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Zoe, my aunt has no deformities. She’s a little on the small side for a wolf, but that still makes her bigger than you. She is a nice lady, and everyone likes her. No one would call her beautiful, but kids don’t run in fear from her, either.”

I thought about everything she said.

And so I dropped it.

We pulled up in front of a nice house, not too big, not too small, in Madison suburbia. “Before we get out…” Monique said.

I turned to look at her.

“Please be nice to her, Zoe. You may not hit it off, but it’s one evening.”

“Do I have a reputation for being so terrible you have to tell me that?”

“No. It’s just-”

“You’ve had a half hour to tell me, Monique.”

“She’s eccentric. That’s all. And she doesn’t date much. There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just eccentric. That’s the word my mom uses.”

“Eccentric.”

“Right.”

“I will be on my best behavior,” I said, “but if she’s a lunatic, I will find a way to make you pay.”

“She’s not a lunatic, Zoe. You’ll like her. I promise.”

“You heard that, Portia. If I don’t like her, may I accuse Monique of breaking her promises?”

Portia chuckled. “Leave me out of this. You’re the one who bribed her. Now you get in there and enjoy your date.”

“You know more than you’re telling, too.”

And with that, I got out of the car, quickly followed by both of them.

“You can wait in the car,” I told Portia.

“No way. I want to meet her, too.”

I grumbled, but then Monique took my arm, and I was so accustomed to going where the wolves tugged me, I thought nothing of it as she led me to the door.

“You look very nice,” Monique said. “Thank you for doing this. Zoe, she’s very sweet. You’ll have a nice time.”

Then she opened the door, and we stepped in.

* * * *

“Mom? Dad? Aunt Prudence?”

“Living room, darling!”

Monique tugged on my arm, and with Portia following along behind, we stepped through the foyer and to the back of the house. Faith, a man I presumed to be Monique’s father, and another woman were just rising to their feet.

I eyed the woman carefully. I detected no buck teeth, no lazy eye. Contrary to most of the wolves, she had long hair, black, with touches of grey. On her it was striking, and I decided I liked it. Her eyes were bright and active. She checked me out at the same time I was looking her over.

While she herself seemed normal, her clothes were not. She was dressed in what I will describe as New Age Hippie. She was only the second wolf I’d seen in a dress — Scarlett being the first. She wore a long dress in a southwest native style with sunset colors. Over it she wore a long jacket in earth tones. She had a necklace and earrings with quartz crystals, and to top it off, a headband to match the dress.

“Zoe Young,” Monique said, pulling my attention from her aunt, “this is my father, Brendon.”

As if she were afraid I was going to bolt, Monique didn’t release my arm, but I shook Brendon’s outstretched hand, exchanging pleasantries.

“And you know my mom.”

I got a cheek kiss from Faith, which was sweet.

“And this is my Aunt Prudence Simpson. Aunt Prudence, this is Zoe Young.”

Prudence stepped forward, took my hands, and held my arms out wide to get a good look at me. Monique released my arm and stepped away.

“Your aura is green with tinges of purple,” Prudence declared, “and you have an old soul. Have you done a past life regression?”

I stared at her for a moment before answering. “No, Prudence, I can’t say I have. I love your hair. Most of the wolves wear theirs so short, so it’s nice to see hair this long. It looks good.”

“Thank you,” she said. She stepped closer, brushed my cheek with hers, and then wrapped my arm around hers. But then she stopped. “I see I haven’t met everyone.”

“Oh, right,” said Monique. I turned, and Portia was standing there carrying an amused expression. “Aunt Prudence, this is Portia Fleming. She’s an enforcer for the pack and one of my bosses at school.”

“Don’t go away, dear,” Prudence said to me. She released my arm and stepped to Portia. She gave her the same treatment as she had given me. I couldn’t see her expression, but then she said, “You have been hurt, but you are healing. And I see you are contemplating a major decision. You are a bold person, but you have been timid. You should be bold, Portia. It is the right choice.”

Portia’s jaw dropped open, and then she snapped her mouth closed. “How…”

Prudence patted her hand just like Portia was a young child. “It is all there to see if only we dare to look. But I also see you are not quite ready to make your decision. Make it soon, before the prize is stolen from you.” Then she shifted. “But not tonight. No, not tonight.” Then she turned away and collected my arm. “We shall retreat, Zoe Young, while your protector is flummoxed.”

Then, just like all the other wolves did, she tugged my arm, and I found myself led back outside. But then we came to a stop.

“It is a lovely evening.”

“It is,” I agreed.

“Are there shoes in that bag you carry?”

“There are. I thought to leave them in your car. I didn’t know what was planned.”

“Simple plans. I am told you are vegan.”

“I am, but I can find something to eat at most restaurants.”

“I shan’t give you a challenge.” Shan’t? She actually said, ‘Shan’t’? “There is a lovely little cafe called Carly’s. Perhaps you know of it.”

“I do,” I said, “but Prudence, we can go somewhere more in keeping with a wolf’s needs.”

“I enjoy Carly’s,” she said. “The essence is refreshing, although poor Carly’s aura grows dark. I fear her business suffers. Come.”

The woman was a fruitcake, but she was a sweet, sweet fruitcake.

She led me to her car, parked in the street, and I wasn’t remotely surprised to find an ancient VW Beetle waiting for us. No, not a new model, but the kind Volkswagen used to make. Prudence handed me into her car, then closed the door. It sounded like a tin can. Then she managed to fold herself in on the other side and started the engine.

I had expected the car to wheeze and sputter, but the engine purred to life. Prudence looked over to me.

“It is an old car, but the pack has very, very good mechanics, including my daughter’s husband. He found this car for me, and he takes very good care of it for me.”

And then she roared off down the street. Seriously, that woman could drive. I closed my eyes during most of the ride and tried not to whimper. For her part, Prudence jabbered the entire way. We arrived at Carly’s far sooner than we should have, screeching to a halt.

“Oh, you poor child. I may look eccentric, but I have a wolf’s reaction speeds. I haven’t had an accident since I was Monique’s age, and that one wasn’t my fault.”

“I hope you will not be offended if I suggest my human heart isn’t quite ready for your driving, Prudence.”

She laughed. “Quite all right. It is good to know our limits, wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed.”

Then we climbed from the car and she took possession of my arm.

All the food at Carly’s is vegetarian, every last bite. It is organic, GMO-free, and void of additives and preservatives. Most, but not all of it is vegan, and the non-vegan choices are clearly indicated. Carly herself is willing to cook non-vegan food provided the animals involved were not killed, so she serves honey and dairy products, but only from humane providers.

Prudence ordered one of my favorite dishes, one of the vegan choices.

“I continue to surprise you.”

“You do. Monique would tell me very little about you.”

“I am, perhaps, difficult to describe. My family doesn’t know what to make of me.” She smiled. “You believe I am a charlatan.”

“I would never make such a statement,” I said. At least not out loud.

She studied me. “You have evidence of things beyond human experience, but you doubt there can be even more than you have seen?”

“I am a scientist, Prudence. I am still catching up to everything I’ve learned lately. I haven’t full integrated everything into what I thought I once knew.”

“What you knew, you still know,” she said. “There is nothing wrong with science. But it is wrong to believe science can explain everything, and that nothing exists outside of science. Science cannot explain your newest friends. Perhaps, and I say perhaps, there exists an explanation for most of your friends, but a certain petite woman breaks the ‘laws’ of science every time she becomes something else.”

She meant Michaela, and I was sure she was talking about conservation of mass.

“Tell me. If I were to throw a ball into the air, and somehow I could cause it to gain mass but contain the same amount of energy, what would happen?”

“The ball would need to slow down proportional to the gain in mass.”

“And conversely, if the ball were to lose mass, it would dramatically increase in velocity.” I nodded. “And yet, your friend demonstrates different behavior.”

She was speaking quietly and cryptically besides, but I found the conversation troubling. She read that in my expression.

“Do not worry. People hear what they wish to hear. Or in my case, they do not hear what I do not wish them to hear.”

I looked around, and no one was paying an ounce of attention to us.

“All right,” I said. “And so you believe the gemstones around your neck carry mystical powers?”

“Oh yes,” she said. She brushed her fingers to the necklace. “They carry two very powerful magics, and I can even prove it, more or less, even to a scientist like you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. First, they are beautiful, and beauty is certainly quite magical.”

At that, I had to smile.

“Secondly, they please me to wear them. I brush them with my fingers, and they calm my spirit. And to bring pleasure is also magic, wouldn’t you say.”

“You know, Prudence, I believe I would agree.”

She smiled and then patted my hand, maintaining possession of it afterwards. I let her.

“I see you will remain a skeptic, but perhaps you will open your mind a tiny bit further.” She cocked her head. “I do not predict the future any more than you do, but I believe there will come a time that you will wish to talk to me about all this again. And when you do, you should not hesitate.”

Then she smiled and said, “I have seen your photographs. They are so lovely. I particularly liked the special ones from Glacier National Park. They are so vivid.”

And so we talked about my trip to Glacier. She asked about my other travels, and she shared stories from her own life. Our food came, and we stilled. Prudence told me she prefers to honor her food, and she ate slowly and with a delicacy I hadn’t seen before in the wolves.

It was fascinating to watch.

We finished our meal. Prudence asked if I desired dessert, but I declined, so she paid our bill and soon was leading me back to her car. We came to a stop, and she turned me to her. “Do you wish me to take you home?”

“I am in no hurry for the evening to end. I am having a lovely time.”

“As am I. It is a beautiful night, although the chill grows for you. But I have blankets. Perhaps you would allow me to take you to a nearby park. We can sit with our backs to a tree and our shoulders touching. I will bundle you in additional blankets, and we could talk until we grow weary of conversation or desire another change of venue.”

Yes, she really talked like that.

“I can imagine nothing better,” I said with a smile. “Would it be too much to ask you to drive at a somewhat more decorous pace?”

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