Aurendel - Strays

Kate woke before her alarm clock went off. After making sure the buzz wouldn't sound later, she stretched languidly in the soft twilight of the false dawn, then rolled over to look at the man sleeping beside her. He was lying on his stomach with his arms folded under his head, his face turned toward her. With the covers pulled up past his waist, it was almost impossible to tell he was anything but an ordinary young man, except that his body hair was finer and straighter than normal. Kate was tempted to pull back the covers and prove to herself that yes, he truly had a tail, was really a wolf. But she let him sleep, and just watched him, studying the lines of his face and envying his unfairly long, dark eyelashes against his pale cheek.

Kate was amazed to be awake before six-thirty after two nights in a row of little sleep. They had stayed up half the night talking--and other things. Now she needed to think about everything, in the calm quiet of early morning. His startling revelations of the night before had broken open the floodgates of the wolf's reticence and evasiveness. He'd showered her with kisses and endearments, calling her his true love, his mate for life, his sweet golden honeycomb. Kate was overwhelmed by his ardor, having never been treated so before. In comparison, even Jack's most vigorous efforts seemed merely perfunctory. The wolf was totally uninhibited both in lovemaking and in conversation afterwards. He even started improvising a song in praise of her, but the words were so extremely frank that she'd blushed like a virgin, making him laugh at her. "You can do it, but you can't talk about it?" he teased.

Somehow, to Kate mornings always had a quality of sanity that night lacked. Now, by daylight, she wasn't sure what she ought to do. He wanted her to go home with him. But this was her home. What did she know about wolfmen, magic, and fairy tales? Last night she'd been unable to deny her instinctive response to him, but could her reason approve of this? Not only that, but also, was she in love with him? Could she love him? Oh, it was just too much too quickly.

The telephone rang, startling Kate out of her reverie and waking the wolf, who rolled over quickly and sat up, eyes blazing green. The phone rang again, and, now able to identify the sound, he calmed down as she picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" Who could be calling so early, she wondered.

"Kate. Jack here."

"Jack, do you know what time it is?" Kate snapped irritably.

"Never mind that. Wolf--Harold Wolf. He's missing. I got back yesterday evening, he was out, hasn't come back yet."

Kate interrupted Jack's ranting. "He's not missing. He's here."

"He's what?"

"He's here."

"I'll be right over."

"No, Jack--" but Jack hung up before Kate could remonstrate. With a sigh, she turned to the wolf with a rueful smile. "I'm sorry. He's on his way over." She started to get out of bed, only to find herself suddenly pinned.

"You're not getting up until I get a proper good morning kiss," he said severely. So what choice did she have?

A couple of minutes later, Kate wriggled free. "Jack sounded like he was in a state. I'm sure he's driving over; he may be already on the porch by now. If I don't answer the door immediately, he'll let himself in."

"So?"

"So," Kate said, pulling on a fluffy white terry cloth robe that covered her completely. "So, I don't want him walking in on us."

Just then she heard the front door, and Jack's voice calling her name. He hadn't even bothered knocking. "Oh, lord help. There he is!" Kate exclaimed, throwing the wolf his jeans. He caught them easily, grinning at her. She scurried out of the bedroom. Jack was standing in the middle of the living room, glaring about. He looked as though he'd slept in his clothes.

"Well, where is he?" Jack demanded furiously.

Kate opened her mouth to reply when she heard a smooth, "Good morning, Jack," behind her. She turned to see the wolf, wearing nothing but the jeans, leaning against the wall next to her bedroom door, thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans, sprained ankle crossed over the uninjured one. He was smiling slyly, a wicked gleam in his eyes. She groaned to herself, then turned back to face Jack and gasped. Jack's face was absolutely purple with apoplexy. She heard footsteps behind her. The wolf walked up and lazily draped an arm across her shoulders. Kate wasn't sure whether to be amused or irritated by his casual possessiveness.

"Is something wrong, Jack?" he asked.

Jack's mouth worked furiously, but no sound came out. He recognized his own words from Sunday morning turned back against him, and it infuriated him. How dare this, this animal--he couldn't complete the thought. Instead he let out a bellow of rage, and yelled, "Get your damned dirty paws off her, you, you wolf!"

The wolf stopped smiling, and as Kate gaped at Jack, the wolf replied stiffly, "That's for Kate to decide; she can make up her own mind, remember?" It bared its teeth.

"Stop it, both of you!" Kate shouted, then clapped her hands over her mouth as if startled by her own outburst.

Jack watched, fuming, as the wolf gently sat Kate down in an overstuffed blue chintz chair. Didn't the critter know she could take care of herself? She wasn't helpless, for heaven's sake! Next, the damn varmint started poking about her kitchen to make coffee, for all the world as if it owned the place. Jack took a savage bite of his moustache before rounding on Kate, ignoring the wolf momentarily.

"Damnit, Kate, I want answers!" he bellowed.

She flinched. "What's the question?"

He scowled. Was she taunting him? "Did he spend the night here?" She nodded. Jack had a very bad feeling about this. "And where did he sleep?" he growled.

"With me," she replied quietly.

Jack was utterly horrified. "Do you know what he is?" he shouted.

"Yes," she said. "He's a wolf."

Jack nearly collided with said wolf as he staggered to Kate's kitchen to find something to drink. Early or not, there are some things impossible for a man to contemplate sober. Jack snarled at the wolf, who snarled back, daring him to try anything. But Jack just grabbed a bottle of vodka, opened it, and started drinking without bothering to pour. After a couple of pulls from the bottle, he stomped back over to Kate.

"I want to speak with you. Alone," he demanded, glaring at the wolf, who was sidling over to Kate.

"Is he bothering you, Kate?" the wolf asked. The impudence of it! Jack took another swallow of vodka.

"It's okay," Kate told the wolf. "Would you mind stepping outside for a few minutes?" It nodded, then kissed her forehead before heading for the French doors to the back porch. It paused there and glared over its shoulder at Jack, then walked out, off the porch, into the trees.

"Probably marking its new territory," Jack spat contemptuously.

Kate leapt to its defense. "You're the one that started this pissing contest!" she shouted, getting up from her chair.

"Me? What did I do? This young pup falls out of nowhere and starts making a play for you, and I'm somehow to blame?" He took another drink.

She glared at him. "Put that stuff down."

He ignored that. "Well?"

"Aren't I fair game?" she retorted. "You told him that I'm not your mate, but that no one else could have me. Is that right?" she demanded. "How do you think that makes me feel? I'm supposed to be there at your beck and call, and you don't even think I'm good enough to acknowledge any kind of commitment with?"

Now she was curled up in her chair again, crying. Jack hated that. Made him uncomfortable. Damn unreasonable female. He took another swig.

"Kate, be reasonable."

"Reasonable?" Her voice rose an octave or two, plus several decibels.

"It'd be one thing if he were a nice young fella. That I could see. You could do better than an old codger, I'll admit. But we're talking about an animal, damn it. An animal!"

Kate's lip curled scornfully. "All men are animals, Jack. You've made a fine display of the beast lately, with all your chest pounding. At least wolves mate for life!"

Jack snorted. "Is that how he got to you? Young men will promise anything."

"Changing your tune, Jack? Which is he, a human player or a faithful animal? Can't have two flaws for the price of one."

Touche. But Jack had another argument for her. "All right, you've had your little fling and satisfied your curiosity," he growled, "but what will you do now? I've got a magic mirror in the back of my truck." That rankled, that he'd done so much for the backstabbing ingrate. "He can't stay, Kate."

"I know that."

"So then that's it."

"What do you mean?" Kate asked, growing annoyed.

"Well, he leaves, and everything goes back to normal." Even as he said it, Jack realized nothing could be the same. Kate had... had... with a wolf! He shuddered. Where was that vodka? Ah. Just then the wolf burst in through the front door. The sneaky varmint had been on the front porch, listening!

"Kate's coming home with me!" it told Jack, hurrying to her side. "Tell him," it pleaded, seizing her hand.

"You can't be serious!" exclaimed Jack.

"Why not?" Kate snapped at him. How dare he!

Obviously, there must be some misunderstanding, Jack thought. He spluttered a bit before he replied, "You've got a house, a job. You're settled here. You can't go gallivantin' off who-knows-where just because you've got an itch."

Kate looked at the wolf. Jack's words had clearly horrified him. He had the look of a poleaxed steer on his face. "An itch?" he whispered hoarsely. Then he looked at Kate and said, shaking his head, "You are my mate for life." When she didn't respond immediately, he shivered as if someone had emptied a glass of ice water down his back.

Kate was thinking. Jack had called last night an "itch", and "satisfying her curiousity." Was that all it was? "You have a house and a job", he had said. Not, "You have me." She didn't "have" him. She never would. This beautiful young man, this wolf, was on his knees, begging her to be his lifemate. She thought again about how completely he'd given himself to her, holding nothing back. What were material goods compared to the love he offered her? What could she say to these two men? If she yelled at Jack, the argument would escalate rather than be settled. And how could she simply dismiss the wolf?

Knowing her attitude would get under Jack's skin, Kate glanced about and casually remarked, "I'll have to sell the house. If I sign over power of attorney to you, Jack, can you take care of everything for me? Oh, and I'd better compose a letter of resignation for the clinic. They'll need to find someone else to take my place, but Terry can manage in the meantime."

The wolf was smiling, and now it was Jack's turn to look stunned.

"Would you like some breakfast, Jack?" Kate asked.

He heaved himself to his feet, and said, "No, thanks. No appetite this morning." He headed out the front door, saying, "Come get me when you're ready to go into town to take care of business."

Kate sighed, and turned to her mate. He said, "Jack may not want breakfast, but I do." As he scooped her up and carried her back to her bedroom, she made a mental note to call in her absence to the clinic before she became too preoccupied. It would be a while before she'd be going anywhere.

Over a much-delayed breakfast--getting close to brunch!--Kate and the wolf discussed her planned departure.

"Before I go anywhere," Kate said, "I'll need to write a letter to Terry at the clinic to formally tender my resignation. I'll drop it off when we go into town to make my legal and financial arrangements. Jack may be no good at romantic commitments, but when it comes to business you can trust him on a handshake deal. He'll do right."

The wolf nodded. "How long do you think all that will take?"

Kate shrugged. "Shouldn't be long. I doubt the bank will be busy." She bit her lip thoughtfully. "What should I bring with me?"

The wolf tilted his head back, considering. "It depends. If the mirror sends us back to where I came through before, then you'll need to pack light. It'll take a few days to get home from there. On the other hand, there ought to be some kind of controls for the mirror. I won't really know until I get a chance to inspect it."

"What kind of controls?" Kate asked curiously.

"Well, a lot of magic mirrors, especially really old ones, work from spoken commands. Obviously," the wolf continued, in a tone Kate was beginning to recognize as his lecture style, "that can't be the case here, or I couldn't have blundered through accidentally." He grimaced ruefully. "At least it turned out for the best," he added, catching up her hand and kissing it.

Kate laughed, and gently disentangled her fingers from his. "Go on," she said.

"Well," he said, resuming his lecture, "if the traveling mirror has the capacity for multiple, as opposed to single, entry and exit points, then there must be manual controls, possibly on the frame, possibly incorporated into the properties of the glass itself."

"Like a touch screen?" Kate asked. At his blank look, she realized belatedly that he'd had as much experience with computers as she with magic mirrors. "Never mind. Please continue."

"Of course, the problem is that fooling with magic mirrors is really not advisable for the layperson. Usually, witches and wizards specialize in such things, and of course the dwarfs make them. So it is entirely possible that only someone trained in magic can control the mirror's direction. We may be stuck with a long walk. We'll just have to wait and see."

"How do you know so much about magic mirrors?" Kate asked.

The wolf shook his head. "Kate, you know about your world. I know about mine. My granduncle was an excellent teacher and scholar, as well as a musician. That's the most important job of a packsinger, collecting and sharing knowledge."

"Oh." Must be like a bardic tradition, Kate mused. But not a completely oral culture, since he was literate. "So," she said, "what does this mean in terms of packing?"

"Well, if I can adjust the portal, then you can bring a lot of stuff. Otherwise, a minimum. I suggest that the most important things would be your medical kit and your guitar."

"Should I get anything while we're in town?"

The wolf thought for a minute. "Any kind of metal tools would make excellent gifts for the pack."

"Why?"

"Wolves don't mine. Dwarfs and humans do, and trolls have slaves to mine for them, but it's rare for other people to trade with wolves."

Kate didn't much care for the sound of that. "Why not?"

The wolf looked at her. "Because we're wolves."

As if that explained anything! Kate decided not to push it, but to be alert. "Okay, metal tools. Anything else?"

"Good woven cloth."

"Why?"

He sighed. "Kate, wolves are not farmers. We depend on the forest for game, and farmers must clear the forest for fields and pastures. Consequently, we don't raise flax for linen. We can use wild flax, but it's not very good quality."

"Why can't you raise livestock for meat and wool?"

He shook his head. "Think about it. How do sheep and cattle react to the scent of a wolf?"

She thought about it. "Oh." After a brief pause, she said, "Medical kit, guitar, metal tools, cloth, anything else?"

With the shy, coaxing smile of a kid asking for candy, he suggested, "Books?"

She laughed, and said, "You choose 'em, and you carry 'em."

"Deal!" he exclaimed.

After breakfast, at the wolf's suggestion he and Kate went through her house deciding what she might take, both best and worst case scenarios. She had few tools in her utility room--just a hammer and a couple of screwdrivers--because Jack always did any repairs or maintenance she needed. She resolved to stop at the hardware store, if her mate could figure out how to control the mirror. The wolf admired Kate's set of kitchen cutlery, which Jack had always kept razor sharp for her, so they added the knives to their list. Next he browsed her bookshelves, shyly glancing at her for permission. To her surprise, he chose practical items, her textbooks from medic training and veterinary school, as well as undergraduate biology and related texts.

"Those are awfully heavy," Kate protested as he crammed her old bookbag full to bursting.

"If we're lucky, we'll have plenty of help carrying stuff. If not, we'll leave them behind." He paused for a moment, then, as though unable to resist the temptation, he seized her booklets of guitar music and shoved them in as well.

As Kate was in her bedroom putting together a small duffelbag of personal items and clothing, her eyes fell on a handled box with a calico-covered lid. The wolf walked into the room, and noting her stare, followed her gaze to its object.

"What's that?" he asked.

"My mother's sewing kit."

He walked to the corner where it sat on the floor. "May I?"

She nodded, and he opened the box. As the lid rose, it lifted up the sections full of spools of thread, needles, and other such paraphenalia. She knelt on the floor beside him, examining the contents. He lifted out a packet of needles and inspected them.

"They're rusted," Kate commented.

"They can be polished and sharpened." He put them back. "We ought to take this, too, or at least some of the contents." He picked up the scissors and tested the blades on his thumb. "These are still sharp." Then he noticed the look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Just remembering. My mother used to make clothes for me, and made me wear them to school when I was a kid. It embarrassed me, wearing the things she sewed when all the other kids were wearing fashionable store-bought stuff. She even insisted that I learn to sew. I hated it, was never much good." She shook her head. "Funny thing is, those sewing lessons sure helped with my work, like those stitches I put in your ankle."

Her mate hugged her tight. "Kate, you'll never be without family again, I promise."

"Are you sure? What if your pack doesn't like me? I'm not a wolf."

"Leader's mate, our packmother, will like you, and if she approves, you're in." He sounded confident, but he didn't meet her eyes.

At length everything was gathered up and loaded in Kate's car trunk, and her letter of resignation was in her purse. She called the telephone, gas, and electric companies and the satellite tv service to cancel at the end of the billing cycle, then called her credit card companies to close the accounts. Finally, she glanced about her house, making sure everything was tidied and put away, windows and doors locked, everything turned off. She realized with a shock that she would probably never see it again. Suddenly she dashed over to the coffee table and pulled a couple of things off the shelf beneath it.

"What's that?" her mate asked.

"My family photo album, and a box of memorabilia," she said, her voice shaking slightly. Things were just things, she thought to herself, but these were memories. She sank onto the couch, opening the box, revealing a jumble of photos, dried flowers, faded ribbons, locks of hair--all kinds of reminders of the past. Pebbles and pine cones from vacations in the Blue Ridge Mountains lay beside seashells; a letter pin from high school sat upon a college graduation announcement.

"You can bring those," the wolf said encouragingly.

She shook her head. "They're not necessary. And I'm trying to leave the past behind me, aren't I?" she asked. She left the box and the album on the sofa, and walked out without looking back. Her mate followed her, and she locked the door behind him.