“Who you talking to dar’lin?” a man called as he stepped out from the shadows across the narrow street. His sudden appearance made my heart race.
“My dog.” Even though I considered this area safe, it paid to be smart. So I whispered to Clay, asking him to bark. He obliged with a deep “woof” that almost scared me. The sound bounced off the surrounding buildings. I hoped it wouldn’t wake anyone.
“Damn,” the man called back, keeping pace with us on the opposite sidewalk. “That thing on a leash?”
“Yep, but there’s no holding him back. I’m safer letting him go or he’d just drag me along.”
The man laughed. “I bet. Have a good morning,” he called before turning at the next corner to walk around the block.
“You trust that?” I asked Clay, watching the man’s retreating form. Clay harrumphed.
“Me neither. And thanks for warning me there was someone close by,” I said. He made a noise I interpreted between a snort and a laugh.
“Brat.” I smiled down at him.
Night sounds began to fade, and I heard the occasional bird call out, though dawn was still an hour away. Clay continued to pace alertly by my side until we reached the diner. Judging from the empty parking lot, they didn’t get much business this early. Still, the air outside smelled like frying breakfast sausage. Delicious. Beside me, Clay’s stomach rumbled.
“Since they don’t allow dogs, I’ll go in and get our food for carryout,” I said, pulling open the door. He obediently sat just outside, the position enabling him to watch me through the glass.
When I entered, the waitress set down the basket of jellies she’d been using to refill the jelly holders on the tables and moved to the register.
“Good morning,” she said with a chipper smile. “How are you this morning?”
Wow. A people-person and a morning-person. I weakly smiled back and ordered.
As soon as I had our breakfast, I brought it out to Clay. We sat together on one of the cement parking blocks in front of the building. The early-morning traffic crept along quietly, keeping the illusion of solitude.
I opened his container and started to cut up his steak. He laughed at me again, and I shushed him. He could laugh all he wanted. He usually ate so fast I worried he’d choke. I set his container on the ground for him when I finished. He dug in, making it hard to think of him as a man.
“I hope you’re a slower eater when you’re in your skin,” I commented.
He stopped eating and looked at me. Too late, I realized how critical my comment had sounded. I tried to soften it.
“It’s just that you eat faster than me. That’s all.” It sounded lame.
I felt worse when he made an effort to eat slower. He still finished first. In an attempt to make up for my thoughtless comment, I offered him the rest of my breakfast, too. When he finished, I threw our containers away in the parking lot trash can.
We began the long walk back, with each of us lost in our own thoughts. Well, I was lost in mine, anyway. I didn’t know what to say to take away the sting from my words. Why didn’t I think before I spoke to him? I sometimes forgot about the man beneath the fur and tended just to talk, letting anything flow from my mouth without much thought. Sure, I may have meant what I said, but I could have found a better, nicer, way to say it. Maybe.
Distracted and dwelling on my own thoughts, I paid no attention to my surroundings until Clay began to growl. My head snapped up in surprise at the soft, menacing sound. Clay stopped walking. His head turned so he watched the space between two houses on our left. Dawn still hadn’t lightened the sky, so I saw nothing but shadows.
I closed my eyes and focused, depending on my other sight—something I’d mostly ignored since coming to school—to see what my eyes couldn’t. The yellow-green sparks of the people in the houses around us glowed softly. To the left, closing in fast, a blue-grey light surged. Stunned, I blinked at it and glanced at Clay’s spark. Blue-grey compared to his blue-green. Another color variation?
“What is it, Clay?” I whispered, taking a cautious step back. The colors I saw classified into werewolves, humans, and anomalies like Charlene and I. This new color moved too fast for a human.
Clay remained alert to the other werewolf’s advance.
“What should I do, Clay?” I tried not to panic, but I could think of only one reason a werewolf would run at us like that. It wanted to challenge Clay.
If I walked away, it would think I was rejecting Clay’s Claim. As much as I didn’t want to Claim Clay, I didn’t want a tie to anyone else.
Clay’s growl increased in volume. I looked at the darkened houses around us. Perhaps I could use them to our advantage.
Clay tensed in front of me. I retreated a few more paces until I stepped into the road, no more than five feet from Clay. The faint, rapid thud of the werewolf’s paws hitting the ground resonated from the darkness ahead. I tracked its spark. It sped forward. Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of its approach stopped even though its spark continued toward us.
Clay braced himself. In that moment, an enormous object soared at us from the darkness. I scrambled back. Its large body rivaled Clay for size. But, it was the newcomer’s dark grey fur and bright blue eyes that forever burned into my memory.
The flying mass hit Clay hard. Clay let loose an aggressive snarl as he twisted, and worked to keep his back legs under him. His claws dug into the asphalt, scraping and scrabbling to slow the skid toward me. The two werewolves grappled, swiping claws and snapping jaws.
Eyes wide, I continued to maintain my view of the human sparks while watching the fight before me. Focused on each other, neither looked my way.
The challenger scuttled out of Clay’s reach and regained his own footing. Clay lunged forward and snapped down on the other’s muzzle. His sharp teeth ripped into tender flesh. I wanted to cheer when the other werewolf yelped in pain. They broke apart. Clay continued to growl. The low rumble made my heart beat even faster. The challenger responded with his own snarl but didn’t attempt another attack. Instead, he sidestepped, looking for an opening.
I moved with them and maintained a small distance from both.
The noise escalated as they stalked each other. The challenger feinted toward Clay, lips drawn back and teeth parted. My heart beat harder with fear. Clay gave no ground, carefully keeping himself between the newcomer and me, while I tried to stay out of the way. The dogs in the neighborhood started to bark. The continued use of my sight began to strain me, but I saw a spark moving in a nearby house.
Time to take the offensive.
“Hey!” I yelled loudly.
Clay didn’t jump, but the other werewolf did. His bright blue gaze flicked to me. A light turned on in the house.
“Whose dog is this? Someone help me get him off my dog!” Another light went on in the house.
Clay took advantage of his opponent’s momentary distraction and went for its throat. The other wolf dodged the attack, but just barely. Bleeding freely from Clay’s first strike, red began to color its muzzle.
With a deep-throated bark, it lunged again at Clay, refocusing its efforts. The lunge caught Clay in the shoulders and almost knocked him off balance. I forgot to breathe for a moment. Clay exposed his neck in an attempt to bite his opponent’s front leg rather than to spin away and leave me unprotected.
The other wolf grunted in pain as Clay’s teeth clamped down. Still, he went for the opening. His teeth clicked against the metal that studded Clay’s collar. The wolf growled, pulled back, and made to try again. Clay quickly released his hold on the wolf’s leg and backed away, as did his limping adversary.
Clay’s leash unraveled from its coiled pile under his collar and trailed in his wake. The other werewolf noticed it, moved forward, and attempted to step on it. Brown fur ruffled as Clay twisted sharply to flip the leash out of the way.