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Authors: Helen Harper
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risk of
repeating myself, you need to rein in that temper if we are to get through this.”
I was immediately apologetic and could
instantly feel the fire falling back down to a smoulder. “I know. I’m sorry.” I suddenly thought, and not for the first
time, that I should have left when I became 18 and couldn’t be turned. This wasn’t fair on any of them, even
bloody Anton.
“This is your home.” She reached and touched me softly on the
arm and then reiterated her point from the previous night. “We need you too.”
I looked down at her face. Her repeated reassurance didn’t change
the truth of the thought, however. If I wasn’t here then there would be no danger
to them. I should have gone years
ago, even if I had nowhere to go to.
“Here’s what you’ll do. Continue with the lotion. Do NOT bathe. When you are called to interview, act
meek and weak. When you are asked
to fight in an evaluation, then do so poorly. We do not need them to pay you any
attention whatsoever. If they ask
you to shift, tell them you’re embarrassed because you’re only a werehamster
and of no use to anyone anyway.”
“ A were hams…!”
I spluttered.
“It was the easiest scent to
replicate. It’s not completely
accurate but werehamsters are rare enough that I think you’ll manage to pass
further inspection. Above all, do NOT
lose your temper.”
I jumped off the branch. “Okay, “ I said quietly. “What about
John’s killer?”
“Once this is done and they’ve gone, then
we deal with that. Who knows, they
might even find the culprit themselves. They are the Brethren for a reason, after all.”
I scoffed again. “They might be strong but that doesn’t
make them smart.”
“Don’t underestimate them,” Julia said
with a steely expression. “Especially the Lord Alpha.”
“I won’t. But John’s killer is going to be
mine.” I looked at her steadily. “68
hours to go.”
*
After leaving Julia, I wended my way to
Trevathorn, the local village, skirting the keep just in case any of the
Brethren decided to take in some of the night air. The village lights were on and I could
hear the hum and murmur of voices from the Hanging Bull as I passed. Most of Trevathorn’s inhabitants were
under the impression that we were some sort of cult
– probably a fair assumption actually – but as long as we didn’t
trouble them too much, they left us alone. Shifters had been in the keep for at least the last couple of hundred
years so even the most fiercely Cornish of the locals would nod if we passed
them in the street, accepting us as part of the scenery. I occasionally wondered if they
suspected the truth but, if that was the case, they never let on. Nick had certainly never said anything
about the pack, other than to murmur a few easily dodged questions about why I
lived with them.
I didn’t wear a watch but I was conversant
enough with the night’s sky to know that I was early and had time to kill
before meeting Tom. I paused
briefly, just past the door of the pub, before turning back and heading
in. John had said that the locals
had initially alerted him to the clearing where he’d found the wichtlein’s
little stone so perhaps I could dig something else up.
Inside the pub, the lights were warm and
welcoming. There were a few people
at the tables along the edges whilst Adam and the Ants bopped out from the ancient
eighties’ heavy jukebox. I nodded
hello at a few familiar faces before perching on one of the barstools and
ordering a diet Coke. I chatted to
the barman whilst he poured my drink and tried to think furiously of a way to
bring up strange noises and black pebbles without being too obvious.
“Is this seat taken?” A smooth voice uttered from behind
me.
It was Nick. Excellent – if anyone knew about anything strange happening, it’d be him. I turned and smiled, probably a mite
repeating myself, you need to rein in that temper if we are to get through this.”
I was immediately apologetic and could
instantly feel the fire falling back down to a smoulder. “I know. I’m sorry.” I suddenly thought, and not for the first
time, that I should have left when I became 18 and couldn’t be turned. This wasn’t fair on any of them, even
bloody Anton.
“This is your home.” She reached and touched me softly on the
arm and then reiterated her point from the previous night. “We need you too.”
I looked down at her face. Her repeated reassurance didn’t change
the truth of the thought, however. If I wasn’t here then there would be no danger
to them. I should have gone years
ago, even if I had nowhere to go to.
“Here’s what you’ll do. Continue with the lotion. Do NOT bathe. When you are called to interview, act
meek and weak. When you are asked
to fight in an evaluation, then do so poorly. We do not need them to pay you any
attention whatsoever. If they ask
you to shift, tell them you’re embarrassed because you’re only a werehamster
and of no use to anyone anyway.”
“ A were hams…!”
I spluttered.
“It was the easiest scent to
replicate. It’s not completely
accurate but werehamsters are rare enough that I think you’ll manage to pass
further inspection. Above all, do NOT
lose your temper.”
I jumped off the branch. “Okay, “ I said quietly. “What about
John’s killer?”
“Once this is done and they’ve gone, then
we deal with that. Who knows, they
might even find the culprit themselves. They are the Brethren for a reason, after all.”
I scoffed again. “They might be strong but that doesn’t
make them smart.”
“Don’t underestimate them,” Julia said
with a steely expression. “Especially the Lord Alpha.”
“I won’t. But John’s killer is going to be
mine.” I looked at her steadily. “68
hours to go.”
*
After leaving Julia, I wended my way to
Trevathorn, the local village, skirting the keep just in case any of the
Brethren decided to take in some of the night air. The village lights were on and I could
hear the hum and murmur of voices from the Hanging Bull as I passed. Most of Trevathorn’s inhabitants were
under the impression that we were some sort of cult
– probably a fair assumption actually – but as long as we didn’t
trouble them too much, they left us alone. Shifters had been in the keep for at least the last couple of hundred
years so even the most fiercely Cornish of the locals would nod if we passed
them in the street, accepting us as part of the scenery. I occasionally wondered if they
suspected the truth but, if that was the case, they never let on. Nick had certainly never said anything
about the pack, other than to murmur a few easily dodged questions about why I
lived with them.
I didn’t wear a watch but I was conversant
enough with the night’s sky to know that I was early and had time to kill
before meeting Tom. I paused
briefly, just past the door of the pub, before turning back and heading
in. John had said that the locals
had initially alerted him to the clearing where he’d found the wichtlein’s
little stone so perhaps I could dig something else up.
Inside the pub, the lights were warm and
welcoming. There were a few people
at the tables along the edges whilst Adam and the Ants bopped out from the ancient
eighties’ heavy jukebox. I nodded
hello at a few familiar faces before perching on one of the barstools and
ordering a diet Coke. I chatted to
the barman whilst he poured my drink and tried to think furiously of a way to
bring up strange noises and black pebbles without being too obvious.
“Is this seat taken?” A smooth voice uttered from behind
me.
It was Nick. Excellent – if anyone knew about anything strange happening, it’d be him. I turned and smiled, probably a mite
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