off for it, big time.” He felt a bit mean blaming their dog, but he could hardly tell her the truth, could he?
“And she bit you?” his mother asked incredulously.
“No, of course not. Look it's nothing.” He flashed his shoulders, for her inspection. There was literally no trace left of his bite wound now. A few tiny reddened scabs remained. “We had a fun fight later and she caught me with her paw, that's all.”
“Right," his mother replied, staring at his shoulder, and the door, and clearly having trouble believing Martha had wrecked it. “Oh, by the way, Phillip had a good look around in the woods for the wolves yesterday morning. No sign of them of course, they've gone now, so we can all sleep soundly from now on, can't we?”
“I'll see Dad about that later. Be back in five, right?” he said, moving off towards the door.
“Okay, but do be careful, love,” she called after him as he left the house.
He set off at a slow pace until he was out of sight, just in case his mother was watching, then he pushed himself into a hard, fast run downhill, through the field. He flew like the wind into the tree line and the wood, his heart barely registering any exertion. He ran the entire semicircular path through it in just a few minutes, and then straight out and back up the other side of the field, towards the gardens. He stopped and took a breather. Not that he really needed to. His strength and endurance were amazing. He could hardly believe it. He put his hand over his heart, feeling its steady, slow, and strong thud. Perhaps being a werewolf wasn't such a curse after all. He jogged back slowly to the house and in through the back door of the kitchen in a glow of healthy excitement.
His mother was in there chatting to Mrs Higgins at the kitchen table, having a cup of coffee.
“There, not even out of breath. A gentle stroll...” he quipped, with a grin, making for the fridge, aware of their looks in his direction. His eyes were attracted by a big package of ham. And his mouth watered so strongly, he just couldn't resist it. He took a handful of it, and pushed it all into his mouth in one go. He almost couldn't chew it because he'd stuffed his mouth so full of the delicious, thickly carved, pale pink meat.
Mmmm, wonderful... How I love meat... Probably be liking it a lot more in the future. Raw sheep, no doubt...
Then he grabbed an apple, some crackers, and a few tomatoes and cut himself some cheese, putting his snacks on a plate. Then he left, smiling at them both as he passed by and out of the room.
“Such an 'andsome strappin' lad, our Kyle. A real fine man, in fact, ain't 'e?” Mrs Higgins said to his mother, in her broad Yorkshire brogue, as he mounted the stairs. Then his mother laughed and agreed with her.
“He certainly is Edna, very fine looking... I'm very proud of both my boys.”
He smiled again. It seemed he was being noticed by the ladies of the house today. And if he'd grabbed Mrs Higgins' attention, he must be looking pretty damn good, because she couldn't see too well without her glasses on.
He ate and showered and was sitting upstairs at his computer, trying to write an explanation as to his sudden absence from his job that day, when he heard a sound outside. It was a whistling noise, loud and high pitched. So high pitched, in fact, it seemed to reverberate in his head. He stood and made his way over to the window and looked out.
There stood Roxy, at the end of the gravel driveway, with one of the men at her side. He thought it might be the one she'd called Mutt, but he couldn't be sure. He opened the window and shouted at her.
“What the hell do you want, bitch?”
She walked up to the house briskly, with her sexy hip swinging style, and stood below his window.
“And hello to you too...” she said sarcastically.
“What? Oh, do me a favour! Why should I be nice after what you've done to me?” he snarled angrily.
“Can I come in? It's important. About
“And she bit you?” his mother asked incredulously.
“No, of course not. Look it's nothing.” He flashed his shoulders, for her inspection. There was literally no trace left of his bite wound now. A few tiny reddened scabs remained. “We had a fun fight later and she caught me with her paw, that's all.”
“Right," his mother replied, staring at his shoulder, and the door, and clearly having trouble believing Martha had wrecked it. “Oh, by the way, Phillip had a good look around in the woods for the wolves yesterday morning. No sign of them of course, they've gone now, so we can all sleep soundly from now on, can't we?”
“I'll see Dad about that later. Be back in five, right?” he said, moving off towards the door.
“Okay, but do be careful, love,” she called after him as he left the house.
He set off at a slow pace until he was out of sight, just in case his mother was watching, then he pushed himself into a hard, fast run downhill, through the field. He flew like the wind into the tree line and the wood, his heart barely registering any exertion. He ran the entire semicircular path through it in just a few minutes, and then straight out and back up the other side of the field, towards the gardens. He stopped and took a breather. Not that he really needed to. His strength and endurance were amazing. He could hardly believe it. He put his hand over his heart, feeling its steady, slow, and strong thud. Perhaps being a werewolf wasn't such a curse after all. He jogged back slowly to the house and in through the back door of the kitchen in a glow of healthy excitement.
His mother was in there chatting to Mrs Higgins at the kitchen table, having a cup of coffee.
“There, not even out of breath. A gentle stroll...” he quipped, with a grin, making for the fridge, aware of their looks in his direction. His eyes were attracted by a big package of ham. And his mouth watered so strongly, he just couldn't resist it. He took a handful of it, and pushed it all into his mouth in one go. He almost couldn't chew it because he'd stuffed his mouth so full of the delicious, thickly carved, pale pink meat.
Mmmm, wonderful... How I love meat... Probably be liking it a lot more in the future. Raw sheep, no doubt...
Then he grabbed an apple, some crackers, and a few tomatoes and cut himself some cheese, putting his snacks on a plate. Then he left, smiling at them both as he passed by and out of the room.
“Such an 'andsome strappin' lad, our Kyle. A real fine man, in fact, ain't 'e?” Mrs Higgins said to his mother, in her broad Yorkshire brogue, as he mounted the stairs. Then his mother laughed and agreed with her.
“He certainly is Edna, very fine looking... I'm very proud of both my boys.”
He smiled again. It seemed he was being noticed by the ladies of the house today. And if he'd grabbed Mrs Higgins' attention, he must be looking pretty damn good, because she couldn't see too well without her glasses on.
He ate and showered and was sitting upstairs at his computer, trying to write an explanation as to his sudden absence from his job that day, when he heard a sound outside. It was a whistling noise, loud and high pitched. So high pitched, in fact, it seemed to reverberate in his head. He stood and made his way over to the window and looked out.
There stood Roxy, at the end of the gravel driveway, with one of the men at her side. He thought it might be the one she'd called Mutt, but he couldn't be sure. He opened the window and shouted at her.
“What the hell do you want, bitch?”
She walked up to the house briskly, with her sexy hip swinging style, and stood below his window.
“And hello to you too...” she said sarcastically.
“What? Oh, do me a favour! Why should I be nice after what you've done to me?” he snarled angrily.
“Can I come in? It's important. About
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