Chapter Three

BILLIE

I wake up the next day around 8 am. The first thing I do is pile my hair on top of my head, pull on some legwarmers, and run through some barre exercises in my living room. I do this every morning. Then I go for a 20 minute run through the human trailer park where I rent a tiny one-bedroom. After a yoga-fueled cooldown, I take a shower in the stained but clean bathroom. I mix some cereal with yogurt and a banana, then take my coffee to the stoop. It’s early, so it’s safe to be outside without getting sexually harassed by one of my neighbors. The view is of my next door neighbor’s garbage bins, but the air is fresh and my rent is paid.

Around noon, I put on a hoodie and head to the bus stop to visit my mother. She’s in assisted living, and most days I have to remind her I’m not my long-dead Aunt Tracy. On the days she remembers me, she gives me messages to take to my father, who was shot in the line of duty when I was four. Today is one of those days.

“Tell your father that Mckenzie boy is peeping in the windows again, and if he ever wants a son like we planned he needs to be home more often.”

“I will, momma.”

It’s like getting a glimpse into the life I would have had if he’d lived and my parents remained middle class.

She can only really handle an hour of visiting before she gets agitated and needs rest.

Next, I stop in at the dance studio where I’ve been a student since moving here, and work on my latest routine. I still miss my old studio space, and the classes my grandparents paid for. After awhile I just let a playlist play and let my body move how it wants to move. I let myself feel how I feel. I’m sweaty and crying by the time I’m through, but I feel better.

I use the studio’s shower and change for work, taking the bus straight from the studio for another 10-hour shift at the Gaelic Wolf. The pub is in a student neighborhood, and humans are outnumbered here. I’ve only ever been treated cordially by the werewolves in the area, except the usual drunk customer entitlement.

I’m finally on break, headed to get some air and quiet in the alley behind the pub, when I run straight into Tristan, the guy from last night.

“Shit, sorry,” I tell him. He looks down at me. Standing up, I can see he’s taller than I had previously thought. He could easily be a male model, with his stylish haircut, tight expensive clothes, and aesthetically perfect facial features.

“Careful, little townie. Don’t get hurt.”

I glare up at him. Rude. “Where’s your asshole friend? I’m still thinking about having him banned.” I’m not, the management tends to ignore aggression from the male wolf shifter customers, but I’m not telling him that.

“He’s not my friend, and he won’t be coming back here, little townie. He was my guest, and I take full responsibility for ensuring he doesn’t return to bother you.”

“Oh. Okay then.” I don’t know what to say to that, and his intimidating presence scares me almost as much as the not-friend. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on break, so…”

And that’s when I see one of the other guys from the previous night, Thorne, the giant, clutching at the exit door desperate to get outside. I hurry to open it for him. He leans against the brick wall and slides down until he’s sitting in the alley, wheezing for breath.

“Does he have an allergy?” I ask Tristan, bending over Thorne.

“No, it’s…he has episodes. I have to get his brother. Wait with him.” He goes back inside.

I get down on my knees in the alley, ignoring the rocks rubbing against my skin. I take both of Thorne’s hands gently in my own. He still has his eyes shut. “Hey, hey, Thorne,” I say, and his eyes snap open. They’re glowing green. He’s still gasping. “Thorne, breathe with me, okay? In…and out. In…and out.” I do it until he finally falls in with my pattern, and the gasping calms down. “Okay Thorne, what’s five things you can see right now?”

His eyes flutter and dim as he starts talking. “Um…your eyes, your face, uh, the sky, bricks…a garbage can.”

The door opens and Tristan comes out, followed by Raven. They stop and watch us.

“Good! That’s good,” I say softly, using the same voice I use with momma. “Okay, what’s four things you can touch?” I gently lead one of his hands to the ground.

“Um…rocks.” I keep moving it around. “Bricks. Your hand. My jeans.”

“Good. Now what’s three things you can hear?” His breath is getting closer to normal.

“Your voice, Raven’s breathing, the music inside the Wolf.”

“Good! Keep breathing in and out. What’s two things you can smell?”

“Um…you smell like peaches. And this alley smells like wet rocks.”

Peaches? “Good, now what’s one thing you can taste?”

He licks his top lip, fully back to normal breathing and regular green eyes. “Sweat and panic.”

“Good job, Thorne. You did so good. Do you want to stand up? We can just sit here if you want.”

He looks down at the debris covering my bare legs. “Oh shit.” He stands up, helping me. I brush my legs off, ignoring the red marks from the rocks and brick.

“How did you do that?” Raven asks from our left side. I look over at him. His face is half anxiety, half wonder. “How did you get him to do that?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Patience. My momma gets overwhelmed, too. Anyone can do it, or you can do it for yourself if you’re alone and able to.”

“Do you know how brave that was, little townie? He could’ve ripped your head off,” Tristan says bluntly.

“I trust my instincts. Someone needed help. I was there.”

“Thank you.” Thorne reaches out to touch a lock of my hair, giving it a little pull. “No one’s ever helped with that before besides Raven. My senses…sometimes, the world is too loud for my wolf.”

“You should probably go home, rest,” I tell him.

“I need studio time,” he says.

“Thorne is a sculptor,” Raven tells me. “Runs in the family. I paint.”

“That’s wonderful. You’re both so creative. That has to bring a lot of solace, when the world gets too much.” I think about that afternoon in the studio. “I dance. Modern dance, in a studio. That’s how I cope. That and this.”

I show them the rubber band I keep on my arm. “When I need a shock to my system, I snap myself with it. It’s just enough pain to pull me out of my head.”

Tristan tilts his head. “You like the pain?”

I shrug my shoulder. “You guys called yourselves “freaks” the other night, right? You aren’t the only ones.”

“Hey, I’m not knocking it, just good to know.” His mouth quirks, almost a smile.

Thorne hugs me. I’ve never been hugged by a werewolf. It feels like being hugged by a gentle bear. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, big guy.”

He smiles, and it’s lovely. “See you around, small girl.”

“I’d better drive him home.” Raven kisses me on the cheek, then hands me a card. “If you ever need any help, of any kind, call me no matter what time it is.

“Same,” says Thorne.

“I will,” I tell them.

Tristan looks at me for a second. “You did really good, little townie.” Then he follows them.

My stomach glows.

I did a good thing and made friends.

Well, Thorne and Raven, at least. Tristan is a hard egg to crack.