Page 62 of Wishing for a Werewolf
“We should get them ready to go into town.”
“How can we do that?” He frowns. “They can’t shift yet.”
“I have an idea.”
“This is embarrassing,” Astrid grumps as we walk down the sidewalk with her and her brother on leashes.
“So embarrassing,” Agnar whines.
“No talking!” I whisper-hiss from the side of my mouth as I give the startled people passing by an overly cheerful grin and use my hand to make one of Babybelle’s front legs wave at them.
The couple’s puzzled looks melt into smiles and awws at the sight of the mini-goat, who baas happily. “They love me!”
“Of course they do,” I murmur against her forehead.
Once the couple passes, Riselda says, “This is what happens to pups who won’t shift.”
The werepuppies start to whine, and Rune says, “Quiet. Only bipeds get to talk in town.”
“That’s not true,” Babybelle bleats. “I talk all the time.”
“That doesn’t count, since I’m the only one who can understand you.”
When we stop outside Cake My Day, the pups jump up and rest their front paws on the windowsill to peer in.
“So many cakes and cookies and goodies.” I point to a table near the front, where a small family sits, a little girl eating a cookie, her face beaming with happiness as she takesa big bite. “All the sweet treats children could want.”
The pups whine, tongues lolling as they start to drool.
Riselda hands Agnar’s leash to Rune so he has both pups. When I extend Babybelle toward him, he scoops her up with his free arm.
“Fae-form children could enter and pick out their own treats,” Riselda says right before stepping inside with me.
“You’re really pushing the shifting thing, huh?” I glance back to see the werepuppies watching us with huge, pleading eyes.
“I have to,” she says, a quiet anguish underlying her tone. “They should have shifted by now. The fact that they haven’t isn’t good, and the longer it goes on, the more I worry they never will.”
“Well, let’s get lots of yummy treats that will make them want to shift. Wolves can’t have chocolate, and chocolate is effingamazing.”
She smiles. “I like you.”
When we emerge, Riselda carries two paper bags full of the most delicious pastries we could find.
Little puppy noses wiggle, and the twins dance back and forth at the ends of their leashes, straining toward the treats. Little mouths open, and Rune’s warning about no talking comes barely in time.
Next, I take Riselda into Grounds for Celebration, returning with pumpkin spice lattes for the adults and a bowl of water for the little ones.
“Let’s picnic on the green.” I lead everyone toward the small park.
Lloyd has set up his usual display of pumpkins at oneend of the town green, and a crowd is gathered around, shopping.
I take us to a quiet spot on the other side of the park. We settle on the grass in a circle, and I pull out a range of treats, from maple-shaped cookies dusted with golden sugar crystals to pumpkin cupcakes to little apple pies smaller than my hand.
Riselda breaks each into three pieces, giving the pups a taste before taking one for herself. Babybelle gets a low-sugar animal cracker. I nibble on an oatmeal cookie studded with walnuts and dried cranberries, and Rune tries one of the miniature pumpkin pies.
“What’s next?” Astrid snuffles one of the bags.
Agnar wags his tail. “I want to tryeverything!”
