Page 19 of Fiends and Familiars
“Mr. Badger? I’m so sorry to disturb you during your sleep, but I need to discuss something with you. It’s about the incident the other night with a werewolf?”
The furry form grumbled then twitched, his long claws scratching along the dirt.
“Badger, I know it’s early for you to awaken, but I need to talk with you.”
Go away.
I recoiled, not because of fear, but because of shock. My gift allowed me to communicate with animals. It also allowed me to communicate with shifters in their animal form. Thus I knew very well that a wolf expressed himself in a far different manner than a werewolf on four legs.
This wasn’t a badger. At least it wasn’t a badger-badger. It was a werebadger.
Shifters continued to retain some of their animal traits in their human form, so although this guy probably preferred to stay up all night and sleep all day, he was perfectly capable of getting his ass up and out of his sett to talk to me.
“Hey! You!” I shouted. “I’m Adrienne Perkins, a witch of Accident. Get out of there and talk to me right now or I’ll have you tossed outside the wards and banished.”
The werebadger rolled over and opened an eye. He might be here under the radar, keeping his presence a secret by hiding out in his animal form, but I was sure he knew the rules and regulations of being in Accident. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here when badgers typically weren’t found on the east coast.
Slowly he made his way out of the tunnel. I backed up to give him room and he shook the dirt off his fur, stretching a bit before transforming into his human form.
A naked human form.
I was used to seeing naked shifters, naked fae, and the occasional naked human, but I didn’t know this guy and he was…well, he was fairly impressive in the reproductive organ department.
I tried not to stare. “A werewolf pack is taking possession of this section of the mountain, and the other night you sprayed one of them.”
He wiggled his hips making things bounce around. “He deserved it, the wanker. Guy was poking at me with a bloody stick.”
I had no idea why a man who shifted into an American Badger was speaking with a British accent, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing I’d ever encountered in my life, so I let it go.
“Did you identify yourself as a shifter?” I’m sure Bruce thought he smelled funny, but given that we don’t have badgers here, he probably thought this shifter was just a weird animal—a weird threatening animal with huge claws.
“I shouldn’t have to shift forms just because that fool didn’t recognize me. It’s rude to poke someone with a stick, whether they’re an animal or a shifter.”
I agreed with that. And wouldn’t Bruce be mortified to realize he was actually annoying another shifter—well, annoying not-on-purpose. Bruce and many of the other werewolves did plenty of annoying on purpose.
“You’re going to have a hard time living in your badger form this close to a werewolf compound,” I warned him. “Be prepared for a lot of them to mistaken you for a non-shifter.”
“Then they better be prepared to smell like old gym socks for a few days,” he replied smugly. “I was here first and I’m not moving.”
He had a point. And if we’d known he’d dug a sett here, or that there was a werebadger living inside the wards, we would have let Clinton know to choose land farther away.
“Officially youweren’there.” He started to speak and I held up a finger—not my middle one because I’m polite. “We don’t require anyone to announce their presence or register or anything, but this is exactly what happens when we have supernatural beings living here that we don’t know about.”
“I’ve been here three months,” he complained. “The food supply is good. I’ve already dug my sett—and can I tell you how unpleasant it is to dig with all the rocks in the ground here? Thought I was going to need a demolition hammer. Plus winter is right around the corner. I’m not moving.”
“Then you need to learn to get along with the werewolves. Be a good neighbor. Don’t spray them, and let them know you’re a shifter if you encounter them.”
He reached down to scratch his balls and muttered something about territory and people waking him up in the middle of the day.
“How much territory do you need?” I asked, forcing my eyes up to his face. “I can’t do much about the noise with the compound so close and the construction going on, but perhaps you can sleep farther back in your sett so it doesn’t disturb you?”
He scowled. “During the day I’d like it if everyone can keep to their side of the stream. At night too, but I like to head out to where they’re digging that road to find some dinner, so I probably won’t be here at night.”
I nodded. “I’ll have the werewolves flag your area, although they may need to use the stream itself. As for dinner, they won’t be eating the same things you are, so you don’t need to worry about them taking your prey.”
Small mammals made up a good proportion of an actual wolf’s prey, but werewolves tended to do their shopping at the supermarket or rely upon domesticated animals and farming, and when they were in their animal form, they were hunting larger prey.
He nodded, then looked over to the compound. Something about the expression on his face gave me an idea.
