Page 18 of Hungry Like the Wolf

Rose sat down again, this time picking lint off of the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“How would that even work?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Well, you see, when two wolves love each other?—”

“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.”

Rose was quiet for a minute, her eyes scanning the assembling crowd. After a time, she said, “Mating is sacred. It’s a commitment to take care of each other, to hunt even when you’re tired and stand firm when you’re scared and lay at the mouth of the den between that wolf and the world.”

Nadja turned her head to look at Rose, who had a far-off look in her eyes.

“Nearly everyone came here to escape something. Some of them were running from bad decisions, family who didn’t protect them the way family should, mates…”

She let the word hang in the air. She didn’t need to say more.

“A mating is sacred, but it doesn’t have to be forever.”

“But we’re not mates. We just met.”

Rose clicked her tongue. “You’re too hung up on the details, chicky. You drove a near stranger hours away from your home to keep him safe, to help him. What did I just say about mates? Because that sounds an awful lot like protecting him from everything that could hurt him—including himself.”

Rose was silent then, looking out at the gathering pack with an expression filled with warmth and pride. Nadja watched, too. The children now resting their pigtailed heads against Agatha’s side, the wolf’s eyes closed in contentment as her side rose and fell. People holding coffee cups for one another while they filled napkins with cookies and poured creamer and sugar. JJ, standing near the door greeting people as they came in, still with his pink eyeshadow and flower-decked braids, unashamed and unbothered.

This was a safe place. Nadja could feel it. After feeling unsafe for so much of her life, she could feel the difference in her bones. These were good people. They would take care of Robbie. He would be safe.

Rose placed a hand on Nadja’s knee and squeezed gently. “You’ll do what’s best,” she said before standing and ambling toward the table at the front of the room and taking a seat. JJ nodded and sat in the middle of the table, tapping a stack of papers on the table.

These collective gestures must have been a signal because everyone began making their way to a seat.

JJ cleared his throat. “I call to order the Dismal Falls’s new moon meeting. Do I have a second?”

Rose seconded.

“Excellent. The meeting is now open. Are there any burning questions before we begin?”

A voice from the assembly said, “Yeah. Do you mind to tell the pack more about your makeup look?”

Nadja tensed. JJ might have denied that he was the leader and insisted that this was a democracy, but the fact was that he was the pack leader. For someone to mock him in his own meeting? Unthinkable. This was not good.

But JJ smiled, showing his teeth good-naturedly, and said, “Absolutely. The eyeshadow shade is Sk8er Girl by Pout. The lip gloss is Vaseline with eye shimmer mixed in. And the makeup artists are Hattie and Catherine.” He nodded at the girls, who beamed back at him.

“Excellent work, girls,” the voice said. “He looks lovely.”

Nadja was floored. She’d never been a part of a family like this, though she’d heard her clients describe them. Her life in Hell had been so structured and governed by hierarchy. No one would have made a joke at a superior’s expense because to be reminded of your place would have been certain and agonizing. But that had been good-natured teasing. And JJ was secure enough in himself, in his relationship with his pack, to allow it.

JJ brought the meeting back to order. Business included discussion of repairs to be made to someone named Viola’s porch. Then there was the matter of someone, JJ said with a cough and a raised brow, not putting the power tools back in the shed correctly. Someone named Diana accused someone named Whit of eating her rooster. Whit neither denied nor apologized, but he did offer to buy her a new one. They weighed the merits of restoring the pool, the need for more people to learn how to manage the compost pile, and finally, the desire to expand the wireless internet beyond the meeting hall.

The pack was vocal, and Rose took what appeared to be faithful notes on a legal pad with a pencil that she dramatically sharpened anytime someone said something out of pocket or ridiculous.

Finally, JJ said, “That brings us to new business.”

Nadja swallowed thickly. Rose caught her eye and stared at her meaningfully.

“This morning, this man”—JJ gestured to Robbie’s unconscious form on the couch—“arrived on our doorstep needing help. He’s approaching his first shift at the age of thirty-four.” There was a collective gasp, followed by whispers. “He was brought here by his?—”

“Mate!” Nadja blurted, jumping to her feet.

JJ’s eyebrow twitched but didn’t lift. He looked at her, as if waiting for her to change her tune. She didn’t.