Charlaine Harris - Wolfsbane and Mistletoe

“His beard?” she said, picking it up. Then she found the strings that had held it on to the guy’s ears. “It’s not real.” She breathed a little gasp. “He wasn’t the real Santa.”

Even as a wolf, Jake could roll his eyes. After all that, the kid still believed in Santa Claus. But he shook his head again, confirming what she’d said.

“Then where am I? How am I going to get home?” Tears flowed again, and Jake wanted to cry with her. He didn’t know the answers, either.

Though he wasn’t sure how far they were from other houses, he didn’t think she could walk very far. For one, now that Santa and his noxious scent were gone, he could tell that there was something funny about her smell, as if she’d been drugged. Belatedly, he realized that this must be the missing child Felicia had gone to search for, and he wished to God it had been she who had found her, instead of him.

Maybe he could carry her. He lay down in front of her, then tried to point at his back with his muzzle, to show what he wanted her to do. But she shrank from him. Jake didn’t really blame her—if he’d seen a wolf attacking somebody, even somebody who deserved it, he wouldn’t be all that eager to hop on the wolf’s back afterward. He rubbed a paw across his muzzle and realized the fake Santa’s blood stained his fur.

Okay, then, the thing left was to go for help, and get back as quickly as possible. And he got two feet beyond the door before he heard her crying for her mama and daddy.

Jake sat down. He just couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t leave her, and they couldn’t stay there. That meant she had to come with him, but short of dragging her by the scruff of the neck, he couldn’t figure out how to convince her he was harmless.

If only he didn’t look so damned scary, so damned . . . So damned WOLF. Hell, she’d called him a dog—maybe she was afraid of dogs, too. Or maybe she was now. Even if he could change to some other canine form, or even just give himself puppy dog eyes, they’d be stuck. Human wouldn’t be much better—after Santa, the last thing the kid needed to see was a naked teenager. Not to mention what would happen if anybody saw a naked teenager giving a little girl a piggyback ride.

If only he’d been able to learn the trick of changing to some other form. What had Brian said? That he could take any form he chose. All he had to do was choose some form that could carry the kid without scaring her. When he thought about what a kid Ruby’s age would like, it only took him a second to decide what to go for. Hell, it couldn’t hurt to try.

He was wrong. It did hurt. It hurt like hell. It was nothing like changing from human to wolf, or even from wolf to human. The worst part was not being able to let loose the grunts of pain he wanted to for fear of scaring the kid even more. It took twice as long as it should have taken to change, and twice as long after that to recover enough to wobble back into the shack.

Cindy gave that little gasp again when she saw him. “You’re real!”

He nodded.

“Have you come to take me home?”

He nodded again.

“Are we going to fly?”

A shake.

“Why not?”

He did his best shrug, given the circumstances, and snorted.

“Is it because you’re alone?”

He nodded, relieved that she’d come up with an explanation.

She approached him gingerly, and patted his head. Then she started to climb on top, Jake standing as still as he could to make sure he didn’t startle her. Once he was sure she had a good grip on him, he started out the door and down the road.

It wasn’t too bad at first—even though he wasn’t used to carrying anybody, at least she was skinny. But he got awfully tired after a while, what with the extra weight, keeping an eye out for danger, and as Cindy got sleepier and sleepier, making sure she didn’t slip off his back. All of that was even harder because he was still trying to figure out how the body was supposed to work. Whose idea was it to make the legs so long and spindly? At least the hard feet were useful—he didn’t have to worry about stepping on broken glass or sharp rocks.

The first couple of houses they came to were dark, and Jake wasn’t going to risk leaving her until he was sure there was help around. Only when they got to a well-lit house, with plenty of cars parked nearby, where he could see people talking and laughing inside, did he carry her to the front porch. He had to kind of kneel down so she could get off. As she stood, rubbing her eyes, he nudged her toward the door. He didn’t back away until she hit the doorbell, and he could hear somebody coming.

He was starting to leave when she called out, “Wait! Which one are you?”

He should have known it was coming. So he made one final choice, and his nose glowed red in the moonlight.

“After that,” he said to the assembled pack, “I headed back here. And Felicia caught me.”

“I see,” Brian said. He’d stayed quiet during the whole story, and the expression on his face hadn’t changed a bit. “Felicia, do you have anything to add?”

“He didn’t try to deny that he’d been out, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Can you explain how he found that child before an experienced team like you and Dave could?”

Felicia looked abashed, something that normally Jake would have been delighted to see. “We did track her to the road, but once she got into the car with the phony Santa, we couldn’t follow any farther. We were working a spiral, trying to pick her scent up again, when we got the word that she’d been found unharmed at a house on the edge of town. She barely stayed awake long enough for her parents to get her, and nobody knows what happened.”

“I see. Dave, I understand you investigated Jake’s story.”

Felicia’s tracking partner stood. “I changed to track Jake and the little girl back to the shack. Everything there was just like he said.”

“Will you be able to find the pedophile by scent?”

“Without a doubt.”

Brian nodded. “Jake, do you have anything else to say?”

A million things ran through Jake’s mind: He could point out that the kid was safe because of him, or that it was Christmas, or that he was new to the pack. Or he could just apologize and throw himself on their mercy. But it all stuck in his throat. They knew the story—what they decided to do was up to them. “No, sir.”

“Very well.” He turned to the pack. “Jake has broken several pack rules tonight. Normally, any of these transgressions would be reason to eject him from the pack, but since he is still young, he may remain if a pack member takes responsibility for teaching him better. Will anyone vouch for Jake?”

Jake didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see the faces of the pack members, most of whom were basically strangers, after all. Then he heard a voice say, “I will.”

It was Felicia.

“I will, as well,” Dave said in his deep wolf voice.

Other voices chimed in, some of them the parents of his school friends and others he didn’t even know the names of. Finally Brian waved them down. “As pack leader, I also vouch for Jake, and for now, will keep him with my family so that I can attend to his learning—and punishment—personally. Therefore the matter is settled, and the meeting is adjourned.” He looked at his watch. “You all better get home to get those stockings filled. Merry Christmas!”

Jake was so choked up he could barely return the greetings and handshakes and hugs as the pack left. It was probably just as well, he decided later. If he had been able to speak, he’d probably have gone all Tiny Tim on them and said things that would have embarrassed him for the rest of time. Not cool, especially when it was looking like he’d be with the pack for a while. Maybe he’d wanted something for Christmas after all.