Something I hadn’t considered before hit me: And where is that going to leave Graves?
I’d figure it out when the time came. Or so I told myself. But I felt even worse.
“Yeah, well. Christophe’s not actually popular around here. Half the teachers hate him, and the wulfen say he’s got a long history of being an arrogant jerk. About the only person who’s neutral is Dylan, but he’s got his own weird thing going on. He’s always watching you. It’s creepy.”
“Yeah. Creep central around here. But we’re in a school full of werewolves and part-suckers.” I wasn’t sure what to think about Dylan either. Everyone was acting weird. Which was probably to be expected in a place where the Real World was taken for granted, but…
I was glad to have Graves. And when Christophe came back, I’d argue him into taking Graves with us. He’d agree, he had to. And once we were out of here I could tell Graves everything.
As soon as I decided that, the weight on me eased a little bit.
Graves gave a bitter little laugh. “Point. Some of the teachers have something against Dylan, too. Or with him. It’s like watching Wild Kingdom in here. Much more interesting than high school.”
Trust him to put that sort of spin on it. “High school’s a jungle too.” I followed him up an overgrown path, almost trotting to keep up with his long strides.
He was still in his boots and coat, and there was a bounce to his walk. He was even smiling. “True.”
“You’re sure this is going to work?” Christ, I even sounded uncertain. Almost wistful.
“You want friends, right? They don’t hate you, Dru. This is a good idea. Trust me.”
I think it was the first time I ever saw Goth Boy look happy. Most of the time he was just kind of dealing with it. But now he looked pretty bright and sunny, his head up and his hair shaken back. The essential difference of skinchanger shone through, subtly different from a wulfen’s but miles away from a djamphir’s sharp handsomeness.
Happy looked good on him, bringing out the strength instead of the weirdness in the architecture of his face. High cheekbones, big nose, his chin too strong too, but he was looking better these days. Or at least, not so strange.
I was looking at him so intently I almost tripped, had to watch where I was going. I hurried alongside him, brushing past scrubby bushes and trashwood. He took the left fork when the trail divided, and we ended up in a small clearing on the wooded west side of the Schola. Here the forest curved around and hugged the buildings, and there were about fifteen werwulfen gathered.
They all went still when they saw me. Dibs let out a squeak and hunched down. I tried not to stare at his hair. My heart was in my throat.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Shanks snarled. Even his emo-boy forehead swoop puffed up.
“She’s coming with us.” Graves didn’t look fazed in the least.
“The Bloodkin watch her.” Another boy unfolded himself from the fallen log he was perched on, rising and hopping down to the leaf-littered ground. “And she’s slow and clumsy. We’re not waiting for anyone.”
“I got her out without anyone knowing.” Graves folded his arms. “She’ll keep up.”
“Please. She’s one of them.” Shanks said it like I had some sort of disease.
Graves’ upper lip lifted a fraction. “She’s with me. You got a problem? Want a girl to kick your ass again?”
I tried to look dangerous. I probably only succeeded in looking thoughtful. Or constipated. But Dibs caught my eye and actually, go figure, winked at me. Sunlight ran through his buttery hair, and I caught a flash of an encouraging smile before he looked down at the ground.
Nobody noticed. And I couldn’t see Dibs sneaking into my room to steal anything.
Shanks’ lip lifted in a silent snarl. “If she gets caught out with us, she’s not the one they’ll punish. You like detention that much? What is wrong with you?”
“It’s time she started knowing more about this place.” Graves didn’t look perturbed at all. “If she gets caught, they’ll punish me. It was my idea anyway, and whining about detention is for candyasses. Now are we gonna do this, or are you gonna stand around flapping your lips all day?”
“I don’t like it.” This was from a rangy blond werwulf next to Dibs, one with a thick, corn-fed face and a thatch of golden hair. Straight, not curly. “She’s not gonna be able to keep up.”
“She’ll keep up.” Graves sighed and rolled his eyes. “Are we gonna run or not?”
“Let her try.” A short, compact wulf with dark stubble all over his pale cheeks spoke up. “If somethin’ happens, she’s not going to tell on us. Not a squealer, that one.”
“That’s right.” Dibs nodded vigorously, still staring at the ground. “Dru wouldn’t squeal on us. She’s nice. She’s not like them. They wouldn’t even wipe their boots on us.”
Silence. They all stood around, thinking it over. That’s the thing about werwulfen, it takes a while for them to do anything. They all have to agree before something happens. Once you think about the fact that they have those teeth and claws, it makes more sense. If they didn’t find ways to cooperate, they’d argue each other right into extinction.
Finally, a murmur went through them. I thought about trying to look trustworthy. Considering I was holding a couple of guilty secrets, I guess it was working.
Some essential tension leaked out of Graves. He gave me a sideways look, green eyes glinting. I straightened a little.
It was apparent they’d made their decision.
“Huh. Well.” Shanks shrugged. “Fine. It’s your ass, anyway. Think you can keep up, little girl?”
You know, I hate people calling me that. “I’ll do my best.” I tried not to sound sarcastic, failed miserably. Graves didn’t wince, but he was probably close.
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, an electric current ran through the assembled werwulfen. I glanced at Graves as everyone started getting up, dusting off their clothes, one or two of them bouncing in place. There was a lot of nervous energy in them, crackling just under their skins.
I am so not ready for this.
Graves cast me a single look. You know how when you know someone, sometimes all it takes is a meeting of eyes, a slight lift to the eyebrow, a tightening of the lips to speak volumes? It was like that. His green eyes said, Are you sure?
My face shifted. No, I’m not, it was saying, but I’m gonna do it.
He gave me a quirk of a smile, and Shanks rolled his shoulders in their sockets, tilted his head back, and inhaled for a long time, filling his lungs. A crackling, popping sound raced around the clearing, and I caught my own breathing speeding up.
Just listen for the howl, Graves had said. It’ll tell you all you need to know. Let it pull you along. I’ll be right beside you.
They began to growl, all of them, the sound rising like steam. Graves was a tense, hurtful silence next to me.
I was really hoping this would work. Then I thought, Well, if I could handle Christophe hugging me so tight my bones creaked, if I could handle climbing up on the Schola’s roof, and if I could handle being nose to nose with Ash, I can probably handle this too.
Probably.
Shanks’ head snapped back down, fur swirling up over his cheekbones, his eyes a hurtful gleam.
Seeing them change in full daylight was something else. I lost pretty much all my air as their familiar boy-forms ran like clay underwater, some of them crouched now, knees splayed and hands touching the leafy dirt.
Then, as if on some prearranged signal, they all tossed up their chins and howled.