Page 43 of Little Fangs

“For you,” he giggled, taking my hand. “But for me, I sensed a friend. A teddy bear—well, a real bear, but he was a teddy.”

“Come here.” I pulled him into my arms, forcing him to sit beside me on the log. “You’re adorable, and that was a sweet moment, but you know he couldn’t come back with us. He’d be a nuisance in town.”

We cuddled up close, and after a couple of minutes, two deer arrived from opposite sides, joining together and staring at us.

“I think they want to be friends as well,” Micah said, as one of them of them approached, head down, almost bowing at him.

“Have animals always been this way with you?” I whispered to him.

“I don’t know, maybe. I’ve barely lived.”

I kissed his forehead. “I guess this type of hunting isn’t going to work out.”

“Because they want to be friends?”

“Yes,” I said, softly. “Because they want to be friends.”

“And you shouldn’t hurt friends,” he whispered.

The deer sniffed at Micah, its nose right up at his hand as if sniffing for food—probably smelling the berries from the bear.

“Can we take these home?” he asked.

“Same problem,” I told him. “Nowhere to put them, plus they’ve got friends, they’ve got their own places to go.”

He sighed, pushing out his lower lip. “But what if my other friend the bear finds them, but he doesn’t know these are my friends as well?”

I couldn’t hold or squeeze Micah any stronger. I kissed his cheek again, hard. “It’s the way of life,” I said. “In their nature, like it’s in your nature to feed.”

Micah’s cheek twitched against my lips as he smiled. “Okay, but only because I know I don’t need to feed now, and I’ve got you, and you’re also my friend. My boyfriend.” He giggled and both deer left with a skitter, kicking up dirt.

“We can try again another time,” I told him.

“To make friends and bring them home?”

“Okay,” I agreed. We’d talk about that later. I just couldn’t imagine the space we’d need for a black bear to live near us—or the family it would inevitably bring with it. “Okay.” I repeated, kissing his cheek.

15. MICAH

I was getting pretty good at catching small animals, especially with the help of Misty. She’d been teaching me how to creep around. I could do a lot of that anyway, but she helped, letting me follow her around, stalking almost as we hunted rodents.

Their blood wasn’t nearly as nice, but it was something. I managed to clean away so many of their habitats it was practically an exodus. But for each one I killed, I made sure they got a burial with tiny twigs to mark them out in the forest under bushes.

I’d been bouncing around with so much excitement and energy that Daddy Harlan had to wrap his arms around me while I surged in his arms, wiggling around and giggling. I could’ve easily broken free, but I wanted him to be stronger, to have the control.

“Are you even ready for the dentist?” he asked, lifting me and throwing me onto the bed.

“I’m nervous,” I said, quickly turning myself into a burrito with all the blankets. “What if something goes wrong?”

He sat on the edge of the bed and Misty jumped up on top of me, laying her heavy warm body right in where my chest was—below all the wrapped blanket layers.

“You can’t live in fear of that,” Daddy said. Scooting over to me, he lay face to face with me. “I won’t let you. You’re special, and you deserve to experience the world without all those fearful thoughts.”

My signature pout no longer worked. I’d become powerless, or he’d become immune to my pouting charms. “Pwease.”

“I’ll hold your hand,” he said. “While it all happens, I promise I’ll be in the room with you.”

I nodded. “It’s just—I haven’t been to the dentist in—” My eyes widened with worry; I couldn’t count the years. I knew there had been a time after I turned when I’d visited a dentist, because Ludmila had been worried about the fangs, but nothing could be done. And now, something could be done. I ran my tongue across the front then the back of my teeth. “What if he says they’re really bad?”