Even though she’s only repeating the exact reasoning I used, I can’t help feeling the urge to bristle at my mother’s words.
But she’s right.
I was right.
We need to keep our distance from people who are not pack. Even the humans of Pine Falls require a certain amount of separation.
And the new librarian isn’t even one of those. She’s here for a job that she’ll get bored of soon enough.
“What she said.” I nod toward my mother.
“Juliet can sign.” Thad speaks, voice half growl and hushed like a whisper. He’s probably not aware of the volume change.
The wolf blows out a frustrated breath, shares a glare between the two of us, then stalks out of the shop.
As I stare after him, shame encroaches on my defensiveness. Begrudgingly, I admit that he has a right to be angry.
Thad suffered an infection when he was a kid that damaged his eardrums, leaving him deaf in both ears—before he hit puberty and got superior werewolf healing abilities. He can verbalize, but often chooses not to, preferring to sign. No doubt the guy was excited to find someone else who speaks his language. The amount of people in town who are fluent in ASL is limited. Although there’s definitely more than there were a few years back.
When we took the werewolf into our pack, I saw an opportunity. Having another means of communication could only help with the safety. If we’re ever confronted by other wolves, whispering to each other won’t keep our words secretfrom their advanced hearing, but using sign language might. Plus, when we ride our bikes, the hand gestures come in handy so we don’t have to broadcast our conversations over helmet radios that could potentially be overheard.
So, I mandated that every member of the pack learn American Sign Language. There was a lot of growling about it at first. But the pack members gave in quicker when I stopped responding to verbal questions for a month.
Plus, we held lessons at The Rabbit Hole, a pack-owned bar, so they got to drink while learning.
Now signing is basically second nature after a year of regular use. My hope has always been that Thad won’t feel different from any other member of the pack. And maybe he doesn’t.
But despite keeping our distance, we still interact with the townspeople of Pine Falls. Hell, a lot of the wolves have businesses that depend on human patronage. Mine included.
And I’m not able to command that everyone who lives in Pine Falls learns to sign. A few have, but overwhelmingly, Thad has to utilize lip-reading and writing notes to communicate.
Finding a person who can converse with him would be like me finding an English speaker if I was suddenly stuck living in a foreign country.
And I just basically told her she should pack up and leave.
Even if Juliet Adair putting Pine Falls in her rearview is inevitable, I’m a shitty leader if I drive away people who can benefit those under my care.
I grimace as I stalk out of the shop and tuck my purchases into the saddlebags of my bike.
The pretty librarian is leaving eventually. But for my pack mate, I can make nice while she’s here.
3
JULIET
“Mine,”I announce to myself.
There’s no one around to hear the declaration, but that’s fine. This decision was all for me.
My life finally feels like it’s my own again.
The thing that is mine is a house, set far back on this seemingly abandoned street. At least it’s paved, though the asphalt is cracked and bleached from long, sunny days. I’m not sure how well my station wagon would do on rocky dirt roads often found in small mountain towns. The vehicle had a hard enough time getting me to Pine Falls. But that was mainly because I used back roads every chance I could for my escape.
Paranoid? Maybe. But after living in a town run by werewolves, it’s hard not to think that they could have eyes anywhere. Including on traffic cameras.
But I made it out, and now I’m a homeowner.
Take that, Mr. Surly Werewolf. Just try to shoo me out of your town now.
