Silas, part I

“Care to explain to me what the Hell happened in there, Whittle?” Pike growled at me. His eyeballs were level with mine and inches away.

“She goaded me, challenged me. What else was I supposed to do?” I answered in a guttural rebuttal.

“It would have been nice if you had kept your shit together. Or maybe you have forgotten what is at stake here. You told me I would get a confession, a nice tidy bow tied around this case. Instead I just had to let a witness walk out of here free as a bird.” It was needless to say that Pike was angry. As much as I hated to admit it he had right to be. Hell, I was angry with me.

“Artemis is a drug addict, no one is going to believe what she saw. I mean- shit- Pike, most people wouldn’t believe it if they saw it for themselves. And you’re afraid someone might believe the local junkie?” I said it in a nonchalant manner, forcing myself to calm and feigned submission. But truth is I didn’t half believe what I was saying and certainly didn’t feel calm or submissive around this suit with teeth.

“This is a problem on your turf,” Pike’s tone and cadence were steady as he let the words themselves carry the weight and severity without adding emotion, but he tapped my chest with two fingers to underscore his point. “That makes it your problem,” he tapped my chest a second time with more force. “Get a handle on this shit or someone else will, capisce?” The third poke would have left a bruise on a person, and it was all I could do to not rip his arm off and beat him with it.

“Yeah, I got it,” I said trying to sound as though I wasn’t ready to rip his throat out and blame his death on the problem I had just been assigned to handle.

“Good. Now be a good dog and fetch.”

First Thanksgiving

“Yes, James, Thanksgiving. And stop pretending you don’t know what it is.” There was an edge of annoyance in my voice.

“Is that the holiday where humans in America celebrate their heritage of genocide and colonialism by eating as much food as they can and generally ignoring the hungry?” He said it flatly, but I knew his sarcasm when I heard it.

I looked at him incredulously. “It’s the holiday where we give thanks for the blessings we have received over the past year.”

“Blessings from the God whose name was falsely used to justify the genocide and colonialism. I call that irony.”

“Blessings of a prosperous year.” I said, matching his own dead pan tone.

“Food and friends are involved in this festivities, Artemis.” He said, a statement and not a question.

“We have a goose on the pond that is fat. I want you to slaughter it for me. We will eat that. I was going to invite Safi and Rhea and Llewelyn and his family.”

“Just goose on the menu? I thought it was supposed to be a glutinous feast.”

“Squash.”

Bleck- James replied.

“Mashed Potatoes,” I continued. “Cornbread, cornbread dressing, broccoli casserole, cranberry sauce, pecan pie, pumpkin pie.”

“Strasbourg Pie?” James asked, hopefully.

I crinkled my nose at the thought and memory of the last time he cooked that delicacy. “If you make it, fine.” I said it grudgingly.

“With all these damn humans in our house I will presume the kidneys I have in the freezer are not on the menu.”

Trick or Treat?

Are you ready, Wolfric? Anise asked as the Ford came to a stop at the foot of their driveway. Beside her she heard a feral growl from her brother signaling that he was indeed ready.

The passenger side door of the truck opened and a kid dressed as Iron Man hoped out.

“Ben! Get back in the truck!” a teenaged girl said through an open window. “I wasn’t stopping to let you out, I was turning around.”

“I bet they got good candy up there!” Iron Man said as he looked up the driveway.

“Seriously, Ben, we aren’t supposed to be out this far or this late. And Mom would kill me if she knew where we were!”

Iron Man stopped in his tracks and turned to look at his chaperone. “Why?”

“That’s the McAllister place!”

“Ok…” Iron Man said slowly, “and?”

“And everyone knows you don’t go trick or treating at the McAllister place! Look at the signs and the chain!” The teenager pointed to the end of the drive way. What she didn’t know was that hours before James had removed his NO TRESPASSING signs and the logging chain that barred his gravel road. Artemis had insisted on having candy for visitors and on letting the kids go out trick or treating.

Iron Man looked to where the driver pointed, “I see nothing.”

“Look, Ben, if you want to get eaten by werewolves.” The driver pointed up the hill dramatically and then continued, “be my guest! I’m leaving!”

“Werewolves?” Iron Man asked with a laugh,”stop pulling my leg!”

Showtime! Wolfric said to his sister in her mind.

Anise howled and burst from her hiding spot in the pine thicket, Wolfric bounded alongside her.

A shriek split Anise and Wolfric’s sensitive ears, though whether it was Iron Man or his chaperone who was the source neither one knew. Iron Man dropped his candy bag and mask as he ran to and jumped into the back of the truck which was already spewing gravel as it reversed down the road.

Anise and Wolfric gave chase for a few hundred yards, howling and snarling in a frightful show.

Good enough, dibs on the Reese’s! Anise said as she slowed and then turned around to return to the candy bag at a full run.

***

“How did you do tonight kids?” Artemis asked as they came in the door, each carrying a bushel sized burlap sack full of candy.

“Acts and facts are worth more than parchment and wind,” Anise recited one of her father’s sayings as she set her bag in the floor and let its contents spill out beside one of the cats.

“I am mature enough to admit when I am wrong,” James said with a smile that he didn’t mean to wear. “I was afraid they would do something foolish and get hurt. Not our cubs, Artemis! You were correct! Mayhap we can let them have a normal childhood.”

“We can do this again next year?” Wolfric asked with a carnal leer on his face.

“I don’t see why not,” Artemis said, “but next year I won’t waste money on candy, no one even came to the door tonight.”

Anise smiled wryly.

You Homeschool?

“You homeschool your kids?” Rhea said over the top of her coffee cup.

“Of course we do, why wouldn’t we?” I said, sitting on the lumpy couch that James still won’t get rid of.

“Why?” Rhea asked.

“Why what?” I replied, though I know exactly what she is asking.

“Why, Artemis, do you and James homeschool your kids?” Rhea asked me in a slow, loud and overly enunciated manner.

I chose to ignore her disrespect.

“Is there another choice?” I asked her.

“Public school- it’s why you pay property taxes,” she answered in the same tone that one would use to explain that water is wet.

“No, James and I pay property taxes so that the sheriff keeps his ass off our land and his nose out of our business,” I answered.

“Have you never considered it?” Rhea asked.

“Oh, we more than considered sending our kids to school. We actually did it for a year with Anise and Wolfric. James was against it from the start. He said it was a bad idea. But I insisted that they learn how to interact with other children. But things didn’t go well. James said they wouldn’t, and damn it- he was right.”

“What happened?” Rhea asked.

“The school started asking questions that shouldn’t be asked. The principal sent home a note asking why our children brought raw cuts of meat for lunch every day. And then there were all the unexcused absences at the Full Moon, and they noticed that they aged faster than the other kids. And then there was the girl Wolfric bit.”

“Wolfric bit a girl? Why?”

“He said he wanted her for his mate and that he was trying turn her. James hasn’t had the talk with him yet to explain that there is a little bit more to it than that.”

“My gods! What did y’all do?”

“We pulled the kids out of school and politely told the school to stay out of our affairs.”

“I meant with the little girls parents.”

“Why don’t you ask them yourself? They joined our pack last May.”