Bloody Werewolves

This is another story set in the city where my novel idea is set, and Scotty is actually one of the character the main character will have a lot of interactions with. It’s a story which dives a little bit into the background of the character, which also allows me to get a better feel for her personality. So enjoy!


   I startled awake by the sound of my front door slamming open.
“Werewolves, Scotty? Seriously?” My sister’s voice called out to me as she made her way towards my bedroom.
I eased my hand away from the knife hidden under my pillow at the familiar sound of her voice.
“This is what you’ve been hiding, bloody werewolves?!” She finally burst into my room in a flurry of dark curls and designer clothes.
“Rosie -” I sighed, so not ready for this discussion at ass-o’clock in the morning.
“Don’t you ‘Rosie’ me, Philomina Bethany Maria Scott.”
Uh-oh, full name usage was a very bad sign. “I’m sorry?” I ventured. By the glare I received I could tell that was not the response she was looking for. I winced, rubbing my hands over my face in an attempt to wake myself up a bit more. I glanced at the clock despairingly and said goodbye to any sleep I might have gotten that night. I’d spent most of the night researching Glaistigs, Green women who lure unsuspecting travellers to their deaths – fun times – for the pack and had only gone to sleep an hour ago. When I looked at my sister again her glare seemed a little less frosty.
She sat down next to me on the bed and patted my leg. She looked at me for a long moment. “I was worried,” she admitted finally. “You were pulling away from me, from us, again and you were showing up with bruises,” she took a shaky breath. “After Trevor-” she trailed off.
She didn’t have to finish that thought. My still sleeping brain jolted more awake as I realized what this would look like to my family. Trevor had slowly kept me away from my family and friends. And after he hit me the first time, well, I was so ashamed that I pulled away even more. There was a reason I hadn’t spoken to my sister in months before I’d finally had the guts to toss him out.
I’d tried to keep my family safe by keeping them out of the werewolf thing. Knowing there was a whole other world out there was dangerous. I absently traced the scar on my forearm. “Rosie, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how it would look to you. That you’d think – wait, how did you find out it was werewolves?” I looked at her sharply.
She looked back with a mixture of defiance and embarrassment. “I talked to Rowan Hearne.”
“So you walked up to the alpha of the pack and – what?” I asked.
“I may have seen you two together in the city,” she confessed. “I may also have gone over there to warn him what would happen if he was the cause of those bruises around your neck.” She gave the neck in question a meaningful look.
“Wait,” I said, willing my body to wake up as I pulled myself up to sit against my headboard. It’s not like I was going to get any more sleep tonight anyway. “you went to Alpha Hearne and accused him of – what? – abusing me?”
“I may have.” Rosie sniffed indignantly.
I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. “Oh my God, I wish I’d been there to see his face. Did he do the scowly thing, please tell me he did the scowly thing? With the eyebrows?”
“I was half tempted to warn him his face might stay that way at the stroke of midnight.” My sister grinned at me. “I mean, how do his eyebrows do that?”
“I think he practices his glaring in a mirror.” We both collapsed into a heap of giggles at the thought of big-and-strong-alpha Rowan standing in the mirror practising intimidation techniques.
“He told me to keep you away from them, you know?” Rosie told me, still giggling.
“Are you going to?” I asked, sobering a little.
“Of course not. If anything that told me how much they need you. And you need them. He cares about you, obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t try to keep you safe.”
I felt a warm glow in my chest at the words and was sure my cheeks were red. My sister noticed, raising one eyebrow in question. “Shut up.” I told her, giving her a light shove. She backed off, hands raised in surrender, but I noticed the calculating gleam in her eyes.
“It does make you wonder what else is out there, doesn’t it?” She asked, changing the subject. “What else have we met?”
I glanced over to the Monster Manual on my desk, filled with sticky notes. “There’s a lot of them.” I admitted. “I’m working on it.” I gestured towards the stack of books.
She nodded primly. “Well, keep me updated. I am in this now too, you realise?” She gave me a pointed look which looked so much like mom my heart clenched. “No more hiding things.” The from me was left unsaid but I heard it anyway.
“I promise.” I told her, squeezing her wrist for a moment.
“And of course we have to tell dad about this.”
That thought made my heart skip a beat. “No, why would we need to tell dad? I mean, there’s an ocean between us anyway and it’s not like there’s anything he could do from London and -”
“His daughter is running around with mythological creatures that shouldn’t exist and getting hurt in the process.” Another pointed look towards my poor bruised neck. “Secondly, he’s a member of cabinet in Her Majesty’s Government, of course he needs to know!” My sister admonished me. “Who knows how many werewolves live in London?”
“Three hundred seventy two as per November last year.” I murmured absently.
“Scotty!” My sister exclaimed, clearly shocked.
“Yes, I already figured that out! You know how I get when I discover something that interests me. I need to know everything, this is not news to you.”
“No, but how could you keep this from father?” She took a deep breath. “Did you ever consider that he might help them, the wolves? If he knows, he could make life easier for them as well.”
The downside to having sisters is that they know exactly what makes you tick. She just gave the only argument that would work, and from the look on her face, she knew it. I sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
Rosie nodded, apparently satisfied. “Now, your friend Claire said you learned about werewolves on the night you kicked out that tosser Trevor.” She waited for my embarrassed nod. “Tell me.” She demanded, laying on her side on the bed.
I scooted down and laid next to her. “You’ll like this story.” I grinned. “I’ve never seen Trevor that terrified.” And for the next hour, I did exactly that. I told her about how I found out and everything that had happened since until we both fell asleep, still side by side, just like when we were little. And even though I didn’t know I had missed this, missed her, I felt a lot lighter, like a weight had been lifted from my heart.