"Honey, how are you?" I asked. I'd sent him an email the day before, telling him where we were going.
"I am fine, Cara. Tell me they are treating you well."
"I'm good," I said. "Any word on Christmas?"
"I would almost believe you want to see me," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. Actually, I did want to see him. I did miss him, as long as he wasn't making me feel like I was six.
"I do want to see you," I said. "Tell me what you want for Christmas."
"Longer hair," he said. Did Gavin just joke with me? What alien planet had kidnapped the Gavin I knew and dropped a double in his place?
"Honey, those toupees never look right," I told him. He laughed at that.
Winkler was trying to rush me around so I had to let Gavin go. I think I shocked him pretty good when I told him I loved him. Well, I did. And when he wasn't being an ass, I didn't mind telling him so.
"I think we should have rented a house so Lissa could cook for us," Kelvin grumbled when we pulled into the parking lot for Murphy's Restaurant. Winkler gave him a sharp look but didn't say anything. Buckhannon didn't have many restaurants that stayed open late, unless you wanted fast food. The town itself was small; less than ten thousand people, I think. There was a mine disaster there not long ago and most of the miners didn't make it out again. I thought about asking Weldon if some of the werewolves worked the coal mines but decided against it.
The Packmaster and his Second met us at the designated restaurant. Both seemed toughened by life, somehow, and sure enough, they told Winkler when he asked that they and many of their Pack worked the mines. That had to be hard, going into a dark place, day after day. At least they have better vision in the dark than any human ever could. As for me, if I could still be in the sun, I would. Every chance I got. To me, it only made it worse that their way of existence took them away from daylight. The next two days were routine and Weldon confirmed the Packmaster.
Mill Creek was much the same, except there were only male werewolves there. The town held not a single female werewolf, and Weldon told me that the Mill Creek Pack was more than likely destined for extinction. The youngest member was over a hundred years old. "When there's only one or two left, they may ask to join with Buckhannon or one of the other Packs and live out their lives. The females aren't being born as often as we'd like," Weldon sighed regretfully. "The wars between the two races just about did us all in." He meant the vampires and werewolves. I understood that.
The full moon was nearly on us when we arrived in Sugar Grove two nights later, and all three wolves I traveled with were getting restless. They planned to run with the Pack first and then tend to business on our second night there. The Packmaster and his Second met us at the tiny cabin Winkler had secured for us and clothes were being shucked and tossed aside the minute they sniffed each other, almost. I turned to mist as quickly as I could, following along behind. The Shenandoah Mountains are probably nicer if you have time to stop and look at them. Me? I was traveling swiftly over the heads of twenty or so werewolves who scented a bear after a while and gave chase. Weldon was running at the head of the Pack, Winkler at his shoulder. Kelvin was running somewhere behind the local Packmaster and his Second.
Kelvin. More than once, I wondered why Winkler brought him along. Glen or any one of the others might have been more suitable for guarding the Grand Master. Maybe Kelvin was the greatest werewolf oncologist ever, but I hadn't seen a lot of evidence in that direction. As far as I knew, he hadn't even looked at the bites Weldon and Winkler had gotten in Des Moines. Maybe it was just me, but he didn't talk like a doctor when he did talk. When he'd spoken to Norwood in Des Moines, he seemed to have the same sort of knowledge that the Des Moines Second had.
Amazing what runs through your mind when you're floating over the heads of a bunch of running werewolves. When Weldon cornered the bear, I held back—I honestly didn't want to see the creature get torn to pieces and that's exactly what happened. Everybody got a little of the meat—at least they ate what they killed. The hunt resumed afterward, and a large buck was brought down and devoured. I hoped Winkler got full on his venison; I wasn't about to feed him when he got back.
Two hours before dawn, my three wandered toward our cabin—the Sugar Grove Pack had already gone their separate ways. I ranged ahead of Weldon, Winkler and Kelvin, reforming on the cabin porch and settling in to wait after making a few preparations. The sight of three naked, bloody men wandering into the clearing with moonlight clouding their eyes would probably send anyone else running for their life. I just sighed and watched them walk toward me. I'd already gathered up their discarded clothing and taken it inside the cabin—no sense making them pick it up, as bloody as they were. They all needed a bath as quickly as possible. I'd set out soap and shampoo in the bathroom, as well as laying several towels out beside the sink for the Grand Master.
"Bathroom's ready to go," I told Weldon, who came up the porch steps first. He nodded to me and went inside. Deciding that one bathroom, shared by all three werewolves probably hadn't been a good idea; I went back inside the cabin and brought out a washcloth and a pitcher of water from the kitchen. Winkler started in with that so I went to find a bowl of water for Kelvin, along with a kitchen towel (we were running out of washcloths). At least they had the blood pretty much gone when they walked inside the cabin. Once again, I decided that Winkler needed to pass his genes on to someone; he was put together very nicely.
Just before dawn, Winkler helped cover me up in the bed using all the quilts and blankets he could spare, and even placed my expensive coat on top of that. There were curtains at the windows, but they were thin. If I got uncovered for any reason, they'd have a pile of ash in the bed instead of a vampire, come nightfall.
Strange scents woke me when the sun slipped below the horizon, and I wondered briefly before uncovering myself if Weldon started on the Pack thing early while still in the cabin. So far, he'd not invited any of the Packmasters into his hotel rooms.
Three werewolves greeted me when I pulled the last of the covers off my face, none of them familiar. There wasn't much difference in their appearance either; all had dark hair and light brown eyes with a weatherworn look about them. I could tell by scent they were all related. The one in charge didn't have front teeth but he did have his canines. Probably important if you were a werewolf.
"The girlie's awake," one of them said, grinning. At least his teeth were all present.