Chapter Seven
Seb had tried to bargain with Riley to get another day off of school.
“No,” Riley had said, switching the light on and drawing back the blinds.
He’d pulled the duvet over his head, “why?”
“Because one day, some bright spark’ll notice that Sebastian Sutton takes days off school whenever the full moon comes around.”
There was no use arguing. She’d practically sung the excuse, ‘wolves in high places’, to stop any further questions about the legalities of the stranger going to school. She shooed Seb and the stranger out of the house. He’d been told about the werewolves in the government before, the ones who waited in the shadows for any whisper of wolves to filter their way up, the ones who kept a lookout for werewolf children in the care system, werewolf doctors, werewolf army members, werewolf criminals. Riley had told stories about the ones like her father, who’d dedicated their lives to keeping the wolves from humanity.
The stranger had been quietly curious through the day, he'd ignored teachers and students alike and followed Seb around like a skinny little hound. Rumors had sparked and ignited like a petrol-soaked barn, being lapped up by students of every clique. Even Tanvi, level-headed, above-it-all Tanvi, refused to meet Seb's eyes during school.
Afterwards, she waited for them, just as she did whenever Seb wasn't in detention, at the corner by the one stop shop. She had her backpack slung over a shoulder and she’d loosened her tie already. She waved at Seb, smiling at the stranger. It was the fake kind of smiles that tired receptionists gave particularly obnoxious customers. Seb glanced at the stranger; he didn’t seem to respond, let alone mind.
“Hey, Tanvi,” Seb mumbled, following her example and loosening his tie, too. He looked at the stranger, “we’re going to go down the market now. It’s, uh, nice.”
Nothing. Seb turned away, fuming, silent aside from the slight whistling of his furious breath. Tanvi snorted and quickly covered up with a cough. Terraced houses and shops lined each side of the street, punctuated by an occasional park or alleyway. Hooded teenagers filtered around them like misunderstood sheep, thinning off the further they went toward the marketplace. A maze of stalls occupied a little cobbled square shoved haphazardly between two roads and rows of shops.
The stranger faltered and fell behind Seb and Tanvi as they weaved through the churning currents of people. Bake-stalls and butcher-stalls sat side by side, wafting bragging shouts and delicious smells over the market.
“Shall we go to the shop?” Tanvi asked, half-shouting to be heard over the unholy, guttural racket. She pointed through the market to a small business - a 'hippie vegan shop' - on the other side of the road. “I know you love your vegan bargains, Seb!”
Seb growled. She always teased him about being a ‘hippie vegan’. I’m not even a vegan. Seb had picked up vegetarianism off of Tiffany when he’d first come to live with her and Riley. It was only ever hard when he was in wolf form - things that definitely weren’t vegetarian smelt overwhelmingly good to his wolf nose.
“They even have hazelnut milk…!”
“Fine.” Seb said grudgingly, “but please don’t call me hippie vegan anymore. I’m not even a vegan.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tanvi giggled, pushing her way out of the crowd and onto the road.
They shoved the door open and stepped into a wonderful, gleaming, modern paradise of every organic seed, grain, and nut imaginable. Gluten-free, dairy-free, GMO-free breads and cookies and cakes lined the shelves. Seb’s inner hippie sang hymns of joy.
The stranger made the same terrified squeak he’d made when he’d seen Seb’s human form for the first time. Seb spun around. The stranger had stopped dead, as if stopped by a wall, and was staring at the shopkeeper, wide-eyed and pale. Seb watched his pupils dilate in sheer terror. The stranger clamped a hand over his left wrist.
“C’mon, don’t be an idiot,” Seb hissed, “it’s fine. It’s just healthy food.”
He joined Tanvi in looking at the date brownies, making his was slowly around each and every product, drinking the glorious cleanliness of the food. He arrived at the counter a good twenty minutes later, cradling armfulls of food. He beamed at the shopkeeper.
“Just that?” the shopkeeper said, smiling. There was something else behind that clean-shaven smile and those eyes that shone like beetles.
“Yeah, thanks,” Seb’s grin faded. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the man. Something in his stomach felt horribly wrong. He paid with his only fifty pound note, and pocketed the meager coins he got in return.
“You know, you're one of the youngest customers. Not many teenagers come here,” he said, bagging up the packets of food. The shopkeeper had been silently polite the last few times he and Tanvi had gone bought food there, a habit Seb wished he hadn't broken.
“Oh, really?” Seb feigned interest before he fell silent. Stop talking. Please leave me alone.
“It’s a lovely part of town, ain’t it?”
“Yes, I quite like it..” Finish the bloody packing.
“You’re a vegan?”
“Vegetarian, actually.” Kill me now.
“Ah, vegetarian. That’s great, son. Anyway, here you go,” the shopkeeper handed him the bag carefully, and then stuck out his other hand for a handshake.
Good Lord. Seb moved to return the handshake with awkward politeness. He cried out shrilly, as soon as his hand was clasped by the shopkeeper’s. He snatched his hand away and stared at the blistering red marks that burned raw on the palms of his hand. They were quickly obscured by the thickening of his skin into tough paw-pads while fur sprung up his wrists.
Thick tufts of silver fur.
“Seb!”
“Tanvi!” It was all he managed to cry before his vision came crashing in and the world spun. Every shout from the marketplace was horribly loud as he tussled with his uniform, eventually hooking his claws into the buttons on his shirt and ripping his way out. He scrambled back to Tanvi to stand in front of her and the stranger.
The shopkeeper rubbed his hands together, locking the door and closing the shutters via remote. A silver ring on each of his fingers shone and caught Seb’s eyes. He snarled.
“Oh, so you three are the werewolves.”
The stranger made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. The shopkeeper looked at him and gave a terrible shark-smile.
“Hello, Elliot. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
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