Page 61 of Bound

West: Funny you should ask. Currently stuck in staff development. First task was to build a trust circle. Did you know hand sanitizer is the new werewolf repellant?

August: Okay, but no one tried to bear mace you or anything? Pretty sure you can handle old Mrs. Abbott and her bottle of Purell.

West: I nearly choked, which was unfortunate since the choir teacher thought it was a prelude to my shifting into something that would eat her grandchildren, and fainted.

Dallas: Tough break, bro.

West: Then the assistant principal decided to nix the normal icebreakers where we gather in the corner of the gym by what trips we took this summer, although we still had to sit through a half-hour lecture on how to use the district’s new lesson planner.

August: You want to know what we did last month for team building? They rented out an escape room for the entire team, then we all went out for beers after.

West: Yes, rub it in with your private sector job. Besides, I’m not to the best part yet. Now we’re supposed to be building a model treehouse out of twigs and copy paper for this pretend scenario where a laboratory full of scientists in the Canadian wilderness are worried about rampaging wild elk and need to construct a shelter.

Dallas: Why?

August: I can’t even.

West: You’d think I was making this stuff up, right? I can’t decide what’s the worst part. That it’s supposed to be a group bonding activity? That they assigned it ten minutes before the end of the day and said we couldn’t leave for an hour? Or that when the science teacher hesitantly raised their hand and asked why the survivors couldn’t just live in the lab, they got yelled at and told to construct their damn fantasy treehouse?

West: Has anyone heard from Topher? He’s not answering my texts.

Dallas: Sorry, bro. Not wading into the middle of that one.

West: You don’t even know what I was going to say.

August: That you slept with him and now are avoiding telling him what River found out?

West: What happened to not taking sides?

August: Talk to your boyfriend. You know you’ll feel better once you do. Come over to Dark when you’re done. We’re all here. Ethan’s making chili.

West: Chili? I’ll be there in half an hour. Screw the wild elk.

August: That’s the spirit.

By the time I made it over to Dark, the sign out front had been flipped to read CLOSED. A line of menacing grey thunderheads was building out to the west of town, the early September evening hot and oppressively muggy. The bell over the door jingled when I walked in. I noticed right away Ethan had updated the wall where his original artwork hung for sale, with several new paintings displayed. There was one of sunset over a snowy scene at the Yule Festival, the town gazebo hung with white twinkle lights. Another already marked SOLD depicted Main Street lined with warm golden cornstalks and fat orange pumpkins in the fall.

August waved from where he and Ethan were talking with Topher over by the bar. Hayden closed the dishwasher.

“Are the teachers massing with tar and pitchforks?” she called over the music, which was set to an indie rock station out of Austin.

“Not our style. When the apocalypse comes, we’ll be armed with day old coffee from the faculty room and the last ream of copy paper.” Walking over to the crock pot, I lifted the lid on Ethan’s chili. The scent of fragrant beef, black pepper and spices filled the room. I grabbed an earthenware bowl from the stack and ladled up a generous helping.

“Any idea how it leaked?” Topher asked.

I slid in beside him at the bar, tracing a finger across the back of his neck on my way by. “In a town this size? No chance it was going to stay quiet. Between the county officials, the technicians there to do the blood draw, and any of Cal’s supervisors or coworkers at the state hospital who were notified or interviewed, I’m surprised they didn’t print it in the paper.”

August rubbed his eyes. His dark auburn hair was artfully mussed and spiked in front. “Gotta save something for tomorrow.”

Plunking a steaming bowl of chili on the counter beside me, Hayden used tongs to select a chocolate muffin from the display case, then proceeded to crumble it into her dish.

I raised an eyebrow. “I see we’re at a stage four chocolate emergency.”

She blew her long black hair out of her eyes. “Can I just say that people suck? I spent all day yesterday piping chocolate wolves onto waxed paper for our Howlers Mocha back to school special, and then we barely had any customers all day. Well, except for the creeps who came in and ogled me while they ordered.” She lowered her voice. “You like it wild, baby?”

Ethan came around the counter, passing each of us a mug topped with a rippling layer of whipped cream and cinnamon. A chocolate werewolf with white chocolate highlights tipping its fur was tucked into the saucer. “That guy may have had a little accident while I was escorting him out to the parking lot.” He pushed his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose, but not before I saw his eyes flare shifter-gold at the thought of someone with their hands on his mate. “Your principal say anything to you?”

“Not directly. He and the AP stood in the back of my room half the day. Tried to make it look like an unannounced observation.”