Page 23 of Wishing for a Werewolf
“We’re not going that fast, and I won’t go any faster. I promise.” I don’t even tease him that I’m driving at granny speeds—or any granny but mine, that is. Nana was a speed demon, and no lie.
“It’s not only the speed.” His voice comes out gruff. “It’s… not being the one in control.”
“Well, I won’t let you drive my car until you learn how.”
He glances over at me, his expression horrified. “I’m not driving one of these contraptions!”
“Exactly.” I pat his knee before shifting into a lower gear to slow down for the turn onto Main Street.
He releases his death grip on the dashboard just long enough to jab a finger at the road leading out of town. “What’s that way?”
“It cuts through the residential part of town to head to the old highway. There’s a strip mall with a big-box store and grocery store, and just past that is Old Joe’s gas station.”
“And beyond that?”
“The rest of the world.” I grin over at him. “Cities and mountains and deserts and more cities.”
“I’m good with forest, thanks.”
“So do you turn into a wolf? A wolf-wolf?”
“Yes, a wolf-wolf.” Now it’s his turn to grin, showing off fangs. “That’s how I lived the first twenty-eight years of my life. I’ve only been able to shift into other forms for a few months.”
Light-bulb moment. I snap my fingers and point at him. “Is that why your house doesn’t look lived in?”
“I don’t know how to live like a man.” His scowl returns, his eyebrows hunching together. “I fear I will fail in my duty to prepare my niece and nephew for the realities of living on Earth.”
“The very fact that you care means you won’t fail.” I give his knee another squeeze. “And I’ll help. I know just the thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Television.” I grin over at him. “Lots and lots of television.”
CHAPTER NINE
Rune
Autumn sells an entire case of her pumpkin spice latte soap to the gnomes, who all gather around her to ooh and ah over the smell.
I like it as well. The sweet spice of it reminds me of Autumn’s bewitching scent.
But what I like even more is watching her come alive as she explains the details of her process, all the time and attention she puts into making each handmade bar. Autumn crouches in the center of a circle of gnomes, pointing out the various attributes. Soap isn’t something I needed to worry about in my wolf form, so I never imagined how intricate the process might be, from choosing scents and colors to adding oils and milks to soften and soothe the skin. Then there’s the long and patient curing process. Technology makes so many things about this world quick and impersonal, yet here myfire is, lovingly crafting these soaps by hand. She’s clearly an artist, and I enjoy getting this glimpse into her true self.
Since gnomes trade in gemstones and gold, Diamond arranges payment via the town bank. One of the bank tellers is a shadow fae, who conjures all the paperwork fae need to fit into this modern human world and helps all the fae business owners transform their monies into human currency.
Each small gnome clutches their bar of soap like a treasure, and one after the other, they tumble over to the patch of rich-brown bared dirt in the back corner of the store. They dive in as easily as swimmers entering water and disappear, leaving only their little moss caps behind.
Autumn sucks in a delighted gasp. “How do they do that?”
“It’s our magic,” Diamond says. “The ground is our home and our friend.”
A clump of moss shivers, and a gnome swirls up into view, coming to a halt with his arms raised and one leg thrust backward so he stands on the toe tips of a single foot. He holds the pose for a moment, then cartwheels over to one of the display cases and begins polishing the jewelry. Not a speck of dirt shows on his clothes.
Diamond touches a hand to her six bars of soap, and gives me a quick bow. “Thank you, Rune, for selling your wares to us.”
“You should thank Autumn. She’s the crafter.”
“Under your keen eye, I’m sure.”
