Water

Mornings with the wolves started early. They definitely weren’t on New Orleans time. But a shower provided a nice wakeup, and I was just finishing the last button when there was a fresh knock at the door. A moment later, Elisabeth slipped in and closed the door. “Good morning.”

“I’m here as the head enforcer,” she said. “I’m not going to put you on a standard rotation, but is it your intention to shadow Michaela’s classes?”

“I’d like to be handy, but I don’t really know what to expect.”

“In other words, if Deirdre is doing it, you’re in the neighborhood?”

“Elisabeth, put me where you need me to ensure adequate protection of the alpha family and Deirdre. I need to be able to keep an eye on my day job, so to speak, but I’ll find time for that. I don’t have anything pressing.”

“So, however I need you?”

“With the understanding I have no military or enforcer training. But yes.”

We talked about it for a few minutes then, together, headed for breakfast.

* * * *

It became evident very quickly that Michaela was an amazing science teacher. Elisabeth didn’t assign me any sort of guard duty. She assigned me as one of Michaela’s assistants. And so, immediately after breakfast, Michaela gathered all her assistants together, and I was surprised by whom that meant.

I was expecting Deirdre and Zoe. I wasn’t surprised to see the parents who had come. But Lara reported in as an assistant as did Scarlett, Angel, Iris, and Lindsey. I looked around but didn’t see Monique. I would discover later that the enforcer students were students for this trip and would be going through the same programs as the other students.

“Most of you know this,” Michaela said. “But this class doesn’t mirror anything you might find in any other high school program. We’re teaching basic fieldwork, but some of the kids know the basics and some have barely had any science at all. We don’t split them up, however. Instead, we treat them like a future employer might. New hires work on the basic skills; the experienced employees oversee them and employ advanced techniques.”

“What about us?” Iris asked.

“You two have already officially graduated from my program, and we all know you’re here for the other activities.” They both grinned. “You’re assistants, just like the other adults.”

“Really?” said Lindsey. “So the kids have to obey us?”

“Yes, but don’t let it go to your head,” she replied. “Over the next two weeks, we’re going to address geology, botany, zoology, and water quality. We’ll spend two mornings on each, starting with geology. This is a simple assignment.”

She talked about what we’d be doing. I understood about a third of what she said, but it was clear others understood most or all. When she finished, she said, “All right. We’re going to line up based on how much you think you understood.”

That earned some chuckles.

“Here to my left,” she said. “If you understood all or nearly all. At the other end, to my right, if you didn’t understand any. Pick somewhere in between if that seems to fit.”

I didn’t take the place furthest to Michaela’s right. That space was occupied by some of the parents. But instead, I stood next to them. Deirdre and a few parents were near the middle, then everyone else was far to the left.

“We’re going to break you guys into teams of three,” she said. She pointed to the know-it-alls. “Each of you collect someone from near the middle and someone from near the other end. Let’s see how that works out. I’ll adjust if necessary.”

I found myself in a team of four, not three, led by Lindsey. From the middle was Naomi Gibson. I discovered she was Lindsey’s aunt. And from the raw beginners was Faith, Monique’s mother. She and I had met at Thanksgiving, and she told me how nice it was to see me again.

“Those of you who don’t know what you’re doing: you’re basic chaperones and gofers. Your group leader is your boss.”

“You hear that, Aunt Naomi?” Lindsey asked.

“I heard,” the woman replied.

“If you want, you can do the same exercises as the kids do, but don’t get too absorbed. Questions?”

* * * *

As I said, it became evident Michaela was a good teacher. When we joined the kids, she spoke carefully and clearly, letting them know the goals and expectations of her program. She explained the science we were doing, and even I understood.

I might have been a better science student if I’d had her as a teacher.

I had fun. I didn’t actually do the exercises, but I helped the kids do them, even to the point of holding things for them or double-checking some of the measurements they were taking.

One of the things Lindsey stressed was precision. “It’s not good enough to say about eight centimeters. Is it exactly eight, or is it seven point six? Part of the goal of these exercises is to grow accustomed to the tools of the trade, which means you pick a tool that can measure to three digits of precision.”

Michaela floated around, answering questions and making sure the groups were all proceeding near the same speed. When she found one group was moving too quickly, she discovered they were being sloppy. Another group was struggling with a calipers. They had two, and they kept getting different measurements. Michaela compared them and pointed out, “You need to zero it first.”

They were simple adjustments, but I knew I’d never even seen a dial calipers when I was that age, and I’d never used one before today.

We worked until 11:30, and then Michaela got us moving back to the picnic shelter. She got us settled, the adults hovering around the perimeter, and said, “Okay. I want to hear from the newbies. Tell me something you learned?”

A boy held up his hand. “I learned if I wear short pants and sleeves, I probably should wear mosquito spray.”

“That is a very important lesson,” Michaela said. “Insect repellent was on the list of things to bring. What other protective gear do people wish they’d worn, but forgot this morning?”

“I forgot my hat. I didn’t need it earlier.”

“You’ll want your hats for kayaking, too,” Michaela said. She talked for a while longer, and I realized even the simple lessons were important.

* * * *

Before departing for the waterfront, Michaela collected not only all her assistants, but the enforcers as well. “All right. If you have significant kayaking experience, stand near Lara.”

All the enforcers and about half the assistants moved there.

“If you have some experience, join Naomi.” She pointed to Lindsey’s aunt.

Then she smiled. “If you have never been or consider yourself a rank beginner, join Anna.”

Deirdre moved to my side and two other adults.

“We have too many today for me to keep an eye on everyone,” she said. “The kids are divided in about the same ratio as all of you. So initially we’re going to break into groups based on experience. I am going to teach the raw beginners. I want Scarlett and Angel to help me out. Elisabeth, I want you to run a safety seminar for the advanced paddlers, and then take them on a tour. We’ll decide which direction when I see the water.”

“Got it,” Elisabeth said. “But Michaela, do not spread us all over the lake.”

“Well, you control how far you take them. The beginners and intermediate paddlers will get their lessons and then a tour of the waterfront before we go out into open water.”

“Got it,” she said again.

“Lara, I want you to do a safety seminar with the intermediate paddlers and then judge their abilities.”

“Sure.”

“Elisabeth, you can divide the enforcers once we get final numbers.”

It was a long caravan into town. We actually parked at the house that Prudence had taken me to and walked downtown from there. Michaela stayed in the middle of the pack, Deirdre with her. They talked to anyone who moved close. I hung towards the back, keeping an eye on everything, and I saw Lara and Elisabeth doing the same thing, arrayed about for best coverage.

The kids were good, maintaining contact all the way down to the water. Angel disappeared into a building for a moment, and a minute later, she returned with Benny, the human I’d met at Thanksgiving.

“Quite the crew today, Michaela,” he called out.

“Can you help get us going, Benny?” she asked.

“Of course. Who can I use in the boathouse?”

Getting fitted out went quickly, in large part to the amount of help. They organized well. One of Benny’s ad hoc assistants would grab someone, bring that person inside, and help them collect all their gear. The advanced paddlers took care of their own needs and stepped into the water, and Michaela told us all to watch for a few minutes.

Elisabeth ran an efficient safety clinic, made easy by how well the kids knew what they were doing. It wasn’t long before they were paddling away to the south.

Benny helped Lara with the intermediates while Michaela collected us raw beginners on the grass. We had all our gear with us, but we weren’t wearing any of it yet. Right on the grass, she showed us all the equipment and how to climb in and out of our kayaks. She and her assistants helped us adjust the foot pegs, and soon all the newbies were sitting in our kayaks, right there in the green grass. Michaela taught paddle techniques but told us to be careful while on dry land.

And then it was time to overheat. I mean pull on our wet suits. It was clear none of us had worn one before, but we helped each other. I found myself partnered with Parker, and when I looked around, I saw there was one adult with one teenager, the earlier pairings suspended for this activity.

“All right. Before we all get hot, we’re going to get wet. The lake is cold, and it’s a shock at first. A wet suit doesn’t keep you dry. That’s why it’s called a wet suit. But it’s going to feel good.”

We moved our kayaks into the water and then helped each other climb into them while still in water not to our waists. Then we paddled gently into slightly deeper water, and we all practiced everything we’d been taught.

It was fun.

“All right,” Michaela called out. “You all have partners. Each of you is responsible for remaining with the other one. I want to see all of you side by side the rest of the day. I know some of you are hoping for races, but those have to wait a day or two. We’re going out for an easy paddle, and we’re not in a hurry.”

She paused. “Who is getting hot?”

I raised my hand, and she laughed.

“Said the woman from New Orleans. The solution is simple.” She unzipped her wet suit and used the pump to add cold lake water. Soon, we all added a little cold water.

“But remember to zip back up. If you tip over, you want that zip closed.”

* * * *

It was nice being out on the water, and so different from the bayous of Louisiana. I understood immediately why Michaela loved it, and equally understood why it had been difficult to leave.

After the training exercises, Michaela gave us a casual tour of the waterfront. Parker and I stayed together, barely far enough apart to avoid banging paddles. I focused on paddling a straight, clean line and worked on making as little noise as I could while dipping the tip of my paddle into the water. Beside me, Parker was louder, but not unreasonably so, and I let her set her own priorities.

Then we all collected, still inside the breakwater, and Michaela asked Elisabeth to lead us out and to the north.

It was a beautiful, beautiful day, the wind moderate, but from the northwest, and so the shore was protected. The lake wasn’t smooth, but it was as good as.

We paddled what I thought was about a mile before Michaela drew us all to a stop, floating a hundred yards from the rocky shore. “Zoe, how are you doing?”

“I’m great, Michaela,” Zoe said. “I’ve already fended off two offers to tow me, so I know when I start to lag, I’ll have plenty of help.”

“Deirdre,” Michaela said. “I don’t know your limits.”

“I think when Zoe is ready for a little help, I might be, too,” Deirdre said. I thought that was unlikely, but while some of the people here knew her true nature, we were maintaining the fiction she was a human friend of Michaela’s.

“How about the rest of you? Doing well? Comfortable? Everything riding well? Nothing should chaff or hurt, so if something is uncomfortable, we should adjust it.”

We were all good, and soon we were moving again.

“Parker, tell me about yourself.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Start with the basics. How old are you?”

“I’m 15,” she said.

“You live in Madison?”

“Yeah.”

“With your family?”

“My parents and brother,” she said. “My older sister got mated last year and has an apartment with her mate. It’s pretty cool. I stay overnight sometimes.”

“Do you like her mate?”

“He’s okay.”

“And your brother? Is he older or younger?”

“He’s oldest.”

“How old?”

“24.”

“And what does he do?”

“This and that.” I didn’t care for that answer. That sounded like he got into trouble a lot. “Dad tells him he should apply himself.”

“Does he have a job?”

“They don’t last,” she said. She lowered her voice. “I don’t want to be like that. This summer is my chance.”

“Your chance?”

“To get out of the human school. The human kids are mean, but if I impress the alpha, she’ll let me into her program in the fall.” She glanced around. “Some of the kids are just here for the kayaking and stuff.”

“Well, you have to admit, the kayaking is fun.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I don’t want to be a slacker. Ms. Redfur makes the kids work. But my dad worked on a house Scarlett helped design. She’s still in college, but she’s working for an architect, too, and she designs really cool stuff.”

“And a part time enforcer,” I said. “She’s very busy.”

“Yeah. That’s about as opposite from my brother as you can get,” Parker said. “I’m going to work hard. I’m lucky I got paired with Kimber. She’s cool.”

“She seems cool,” I agreed. “And here you’re stuck with me for kayaking.”

“Yeah, but you’re really cool. Cat.”

I laughed.

* * * *

“Care for a run?”

I looked up. I hadn’t even noticed Elisabeth in the doorway to my room.

“I’m just looking to unwind before bed,” she added.

“Give me a second,” I replied. I read the email I’d been working on, decided it was good, and sent it. “Can I ask you something before I shift?” I shoved my computer away and stood up, beginning to unbutton my shirt.

“Sure.” She stepped in further and closed the door.

“It’s no big deal. I was just wondering why the kids call Michaela Ms. Redfur instead of Ms. Burns. I thought she took Lara’s name.”

“She did,” Elisabeth replied. “But she teaches as Ms. Redfur. She’s the only Ms. Redfur anyone knows, so that helps if Lara and I are around.”

“Ah. No confusion that way.”

“Some of the kids forget and call her Michaela at school. Or they might say either Ms. Burns or Ms. Redfur away from school. She answers to any of them.”

“Right. I was just curious.”

“Do you have any trouble with our door handles?”

“No, but thanks. Could I ask you something else?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

“How much are you willing to tell me about how quickly you shift?”

“Ah. You know, we’re not unique. I know of at least one other wolf from another pack who shifts as fast as we do. Unfortunately, the details are a pack secret.”

“Say no more,” I said. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“I’ll be in the great room.”

I wasn’t a slow shifter, although compared to the members of this pack, I was. My typical shift was six or seven minutes, longer if I was tired or in poor shape. I could hurry it, but it was more painful and tended to give me lasting headaches. The best I’d ever done was -- as best I could tell -- two minutes, and it had been an emergency. Two minutes is pretty darned fast, and I didn’t know anyone who shifted that fast on a regular basis. Except, of course, certain members of the Madison pack.

The advantages were clear, of course, and I could understand that Elisabeth wouldn’t talk about it.

I thought about all this as I removed my clothing and curled up on the floor. But then I concentrated on my jaguar and began to pull her forth. It took only a few minutes for the shift to trigger, and after that, unless I sought to fight it, the shift would complete itself. Jaguar wanted to come out, after all. She wanted to be free of this human body. I wanted to be free. I wanted to feel fur and fang and claw. I wanted to feel power. Oh, the power.

It could be intoxicating.

It took little before I was thinking more like my jaguar than my human. Gone were the thoughts of business and email and profit margins. Oh, I could think about those issues, if I wanted, but they stopped pressing at me in exchange of more immediate thoughts.

The feel of my body as it lengthened and changed shape. The feel of fur growing from my skin. My face changing shape. My ears growing.

The floor underneath me.

The smells. I’d claimed this room, and while I wasn’t driven by scent like Elisabeth was, I certainly was aware of the scents. Most immediate was Elisabeth herself, having recently left. She smelled wrong. She was wolf, after all.

But she smelled right, too, and that confused me.

She was a wolf. A dog. The enemy.

No. She wasn’t the enemy. That was letting the jaguar forget. The human needed friends, and the jaguar understood this, even liked it, sometimes.

For me -- and I presume for most weres -- shifting is a time of vulnerability. This was why I always chose to shift out of sight of anyone else, even my closest family. Oh, as a young girl, I’d lain with my mother for my shifts. But as I became a teenager, I had sought privacy for my shift, both directions, and I was always nervous.

Somehow, right now, I felt safe. That was a strange thought. I let that settle for a moment. And then I asked a simple question: why.

Elisabeth replaced that thought. Surely I didn’t feel safer with her than my own mother. Surely I didn’t feel safer with this strange pack of wolves than I did my family pride.

Those thoughts lingered as the shift completed, and I lay on the floor a few moments longer, taking in deep, deep breaths before climbing to four feet.

Oh, four feet, four powerful, powerful feet.

I stretched, careful of my claws. I stretched my back and my legs. My forward claws extended, but I kept them lifted from the floor.

Then I lifted my head and looked around, remembering where I was. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to vocalize. So I did.

Oh, not at full volume. That wasn’t necessary.

But I began with a series of throaty barks-roars. They may have sounded a little like coughing, but only a little.

Really, there was no mistaking the sounds from anything else. There was a large cat in the house.

So it was bark/roar (or cough, or whatever I should call it), bark/roar, bark/roar, then a drawn out roar. I repeated that two or three more times.

Ah, that felt good.

I took a single leap to reach the door, snagged the handle, and pulled it open just before Elisabeth was about to fling it open. We stood staring at each other for a moment. I stalked closer, practically pushing her from my room, then jumped up and set my paws on her shoulders, looking down into her eyes.

I really should thank Scarlett for the high ceilings, even in the hallway.

“Are you all right?”

I couldn’t purr, but I could do something else. I brushed my cheek along hers, a long, slow nudge. That felt good, so I did it again.

“Ah. Just needed to let it out.” She smiled. “I feel that way sometimes. But you’re heavy. Get down.”

Down was harder than up. I had to do it without raking my claws across her shoulders. But she helped, pushing off my forelimbs until my paws were no longer slung over her shoulders. I dropped to all four paws and nudged her hip as I turned for the front door.

Elisabeth reached past me, pulled my door closed, and followed after me.

Reaching the great room, everyone was turned, watching me, and they looked like they were on alert. Hmm. Maybe a roar hadn’t been a good idea, but it had felt so good. So it couldn’t have been a bad idea, could it? No harm and all that.

Elisabeth entered after me. “She was just announcing herself,” she explained. “I think everyone here can understand that.”

“Not me,” Zoe said.

“Yeah, right,” Elisabeth said. “That’s why I didn’t get a Green mailing last week.”

“That hardly counts,” Zoe said, but from the teasing she got, I thought perhaps the wolves disagreed with her.

But I was ready for a run. I walked to the front door then dropped to the floor, my muscles halfway between coiled and relaxed.

“Someone looks like she’s ready for a run, Elisabeth,” Zoe said. “Anna?”

I turned my head to offer a steely gaze.

“Kick her ass for me.”

“There will be no ass kicking,” Elisabeth said. I glanced over my shoulder at her. She was shedding clothing as she walked towards me. She stripped out of her clothes, walked to the door, and opened it. I released my muscles and sprang, right past her, through the door, and into the grass. Then I spun to watch her. Elisabeth stepped out the door, pulling it closed, dropped to hands and knees, and flowed into her wolf, as pretty as you please.

Neat trick, I thought. But could she do this? I sprang again, taking two jumps before jumping at the front of the lodge, just to the side of one of the large windows. I banked off the building and made a mighty leap towards a large tree near the corner. I banked off that back towards the house, not fifteen feet from the ground. Another bank, and I was in the tree, above the edge of the house. From there I leapt once more, landing on the roof. I spun around and carefully hung over the edge, looking down at the wolf.

Elisabeth sat down in the grass, looked up at me, and yawned.

Yeah, like she wasn’t impressed. I bet she couldn’t do it, and I didn’t see her trying.

I roared, still not remotely near full volume, but enough to get my point across. I was, well, queen of the house, and I just dared one of them to come up and try pushing me off.

The front door of the lodge opened quickly, and about half the occupants stepped outside. They immediately saw Elisabeth in the grass and followed her gaze. After a moment, Michaela stepped into the grass, her hands on her hips, and walked until she stood on the ground, well below me, looking up.

“Anna!” she said firmly. “If you’ve damaged those shingles, you’re going to be the one replacing them.”

I offered my own yawn. She could come up here and check them out if she didn’t believe me.

“Eric!” she called out. “Rory. Throw me into that tree.” She pointed to the tree I used, and then she took a little leap and disappeared, her clothing fluttering to the ground. A moment later, I saw a fox nose poke back out, and then she squirmed out of the clothing. Eric and Rory stepped down from the porch and walked to the fox. She stood up, balancing on her back feet for a moment, and they each crouched down, picking her up carefully.

“On three,” Eric said. “One.” They swung her. “Two. Three!” And they gave her a toss, a pretty big toss, too.”

Michaela flew, nearly straight up, and she shifted back to human in the air, her hands reaching for a branch. She grabbed it, climbed over to the trunk, shifted back into her fur, and then was scrambling up.

She wasn’t as fast as I was going up, but I had to admit it: she was a pretty good climber. Soon she was well above my head. She then ran along a branch, a branch far smaller than could have handled my weight. It began to dip. She clung to it for a moment and then jumped, lightly landing on the roof somewhere behind me. I turned my head to watch her.

The little fox turned around then carefully walked down to me. She sat and shifted to human again.

“Move it. I want to see what you did to the roof.”

I thought I should be offended. I hadn’t harmed her precious roof. I yawned at her again but stood, stretched, and then backed away from where I’d been perched.

As I watched, Michaela spent a minute or two examining the roof. Finally she turned to me. “Very clever. But don’t do it again.”

I bobbed my head, moved to the edge, then flowed off the roof, landing safely on the ground, then turned around to see what the fox would do.

Apparently I wasn’t the only one, as Lara moved out into the grass and looked up. “Michaela, you were quite handy getting up there, but how do you intend to come back down?”

“I wouldn’t suppose you could catch me.”

“Not without breaking several of your bones,” Lara replied.

Michaela eyed the distance to the tree we’d both used. “This is your fault, Anna. Would someone go get me a ladder?”

Hey! It wasn’t my fault. I turned to Elisabeth. She stood, turned her nose, and began sauntering away. I bounded after her.

* * * *

At first we ran, although we were built so differently we preferred different speeds. I could bound ahead then let her pass me, bound ahead and wait. I was fine with that. But finally she came to a stop in the middle of a small clearing. She shifted into human form, crouched on the ground. She stood as I bounded into the clearing and slowed. I saw her standing there and came to a stop. I looked her up and down.

The human Elisabeth was a fine looking woman, strong and powerful, with a sleek body. If I’d been in my own skin, I would have offered a smile.

Instead, I did the cat equivalent. I stalked her, slowly, but when I reached her, I nudged her with the side of my head, then walked passed her, sliding my fur along her side, circling around and coming back up the other side. I circled her once more before she crouched down, our eyes on a similar level. She reached for me, grabbing me by the head, and guided me into a space in front of her. I sat and stared into her eyes.

“Look. If you’re going to hang around with us, you need to learn to speak like a wolf.”

Yeah, like that was going to happen.

“We make two sounds. I’m sure you’ve heard them. We call this a huff.” Then she did something that was a little like a pant, twice, quickly. “Try it.”

She was kidding, right?

“I’m serious. Try it.”

Fine. I panted in her face.

“Not like that,” she complained. “If the fox can do it, you can do it.” She made the sound again. “Your turn.”

I panted again, a little breathier. The third time, I made a rasping sound with it, and I even spit a little. She wiped her face. “You did that on purpose. You little shit.”

I wasn’t a little shit. I was a big shit. So I launched myself at her, knocking her onto her back and landing on top of her. I didn’t knock the breath from her, but I surprised the hell out of her.

“Get off me!” she screamed, and she tried to throw me aside. Reflexively, I dug my claws into her shoulders, and if she’d actually managed to throw me, she’d have shredded her shoulders.

Elisabeth froze. I stared into her eyes and then huffed at her, over and over. It meant no. Or a simple expression of displeasure.

I might be a cat, but I’d hung around enough werewolves to know their sounds.

“You shit,” she said up at me. “Get off me, Anna.”

I withdrew my claws and then, carefully, slipped sideways. She burst to her feet then gave me a shove. I actually skidded back a foot or so; she put a lot into it. “Don’t do that again. I mean it.”

Wow, she was worked up. Fine, fine. I huffed at her a couple of times. But I was just having a little fun. I rather thought Elisabeth was the sort that could dish it out, but she didn’t take it very well.

I’d have to remember that.

Without another word she shifted back into fur and went bounding into the woods. Running quickly. I decided I didn’t feel like chasing after her, and I could find my own way back.