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“Wednesday, PLEASE don’t,” Enid said.
But as usual, Wednesday’s mind was made up. “Sisters forever, remember?”
Enid remembered the ritual. It had been bloody, as all of Wednesday’s rituals were. Truth be told, Enid had been a little reluctant. Wednesday seemed to have a curse following her. Whenever she got involved in something, it ballooned into a giant disaster. Wednesday insisted there was no curse, and anyway, if there were, it was not a curse but a power. “I just have to figure out how to control it,” she insisted. “You’ll see.”
Enid’s hand ached after the sisterhood ritual, because she had to slash it with a knife to provide the necessary blood sacrifice. Since then, even her paw ached sometimes.
Enid wasn’t sure whether Wednesday had gained control of her curse or power or whatever. Right after they did it, Enid transformed into a full-time alpha werewolf.
Well, not FULL-full-time. When Wednesday and Thing and Fester managed to track Enid down several months later, they learned that on the night of the new moon, she reverted back to her human form. It only lasted 24 hours. This was a serious inconvenience. It was hard to get things done if you had opposable thumbs for only one day out of every 28. Even with Wednesday’s hand-Friday, Thing, willing to help out.
But all their attempts to find an antidote to almost-permanent werewolfdom struck out. Wednesday wracked her brain and several private and public libraries, and hadn’t come up with anything. Oh, there were cures for being a werewolf, even an alpha werewolf. But all of them stripped the person of wolfyness altogether.
Enid hated to remember the conversation that took place when her friend/life-sister had presented the option. It had been on her human day. She tried her best to lightly dismiss the idea, but Wednesday had a counter-argument every time, and, her being Wednesday, they were impeccably logical. So Enid had to tell the whole truth.
“I’d rather die,” Enid said finally, turning her face away in shame. She didn’t want to abandon Wednesday, and she knew she wasn’t useful as a 24/7/27-day somewhat-sentient wolf. But being without her wolfyness would be the same as death to her.
“And if it comes to that, I’d rather get the transition from living to non over with all at once,” Enid finally blurted, hiding her face in her hands.
Wednesday surprised her in this as so many things. She climbed onto Enid’s bed and turned her to gaze into her face. “Enid, I get it. I was magickless for far too long, and I couldn’t have gone on like that either. I would never force on you living a life without what makes you you. I just thought you should know it is an option.”
Her face was so close, and her eyes so bright. So Enid kissed her, and they didn’t stop there.
~~~
But this? Was this really any better?
Enid, in her wolfy form, gazed in horror at the syringe Wednesday was showing her. The contents were blacker than black and not really liquid, the stuff only oozed slowly in the direction gravity pulled it. It smelled like the foulest of marshes. And the business end of the syringe seemed like it would make a hole as wide as a pencil in the blood vessel it punctured.
Enid panted nervously, whined, and paced. She didn’t like anything about this idea. Wednesday didn’t owe her this. It didn’t matter that Wednesday had been the reason for Enid’s condition now. Enid had made the choice and could live with it. Would live with it.
But she owed Wednesday the same support that her witchy sister-lover had given her — unconditional support and final control over her own body.
Wednesday and Thing tried to soothe her, stroking her chest and behind her ears.
“When?” Enid said.
They had developed a little bit of a telepathic connection over the last few months. Wolfy Enid couldn’t argue complex math or spell-theory with Wednesday like they used to do, far too late into the night in their dorm room. But they could communicate practically.
Wednesday checked her watch, which looked like a wristlet of black roses, bristling with thorns. It was the only baroquely excessive thing she owned. She looked at the sky. They were atop a hill facing east and dark was spreading across the sky and land, except for a faint glow on the horizon.
It was pointless to ask when or look at a watch. When the full moon rose and spread its light on the land, Enid and every other wolf who saw it was compelled to howl. When the weres completed their transmutations, they joined in the howling. And it would be at that moment that Wednesday would inject the potion into her vein. She now picked up the antique glass-and-metal device and fitted her fingers into the loops surrounding the plunger. She lifted the device to her neck.
Enid saw at once there was a problem. Wednesday’s hand was trembling so much she had a snowball’s chance in Hell of injecting the goop correctly. Not for the first time, Enid’s fury rose up. It was so wrong that she couldn’t help in her wolfy body. And they couldn’t wait until the new moon. The potion only worked while the full moon was rising.
Wednesday took several deep breaths. She switched the device to her other hand. But that was no better.
Enid’s night vision taking over as the world darkened. That meant that soon Wednesday wouldn’t be able to see the syringe at all.
A sliver of moonlight crested the treeline. Enid howled. She howled about the joy of being a wild animal, of the hunt soon to come; and she howled in despair that her friend-sister-lover wouldn’t be able to run beside her. Her light-sensitive eyes showed her how Wednesday was grimacing, how her face covered in sweat. “I will not be defeated by this instrument!” she shouted in rage.
Enid caught an irresistible scent and turned away from Wednesday to drink it in. She saw the flash of a deer’s white tail in the woods. As a wolf her body and her senses and her thoughts were one. She instinctively bounded after her prey, her mouth filling with saliva at the prospect of filling her belly.
“Get off!…Oh ALL RIGHT,” she imagined she heard Wednesday say, but she was so focused down on the chase that it dropped out of her mind immediately.
Her prey gave her a good chase, but she brought the doe down at last, and began to feed. Meat always tasted better when the full moon bathed the land. When she’d taken the edge off her hunger, she threw her head up and howled in triumph.
Another howl rang out very close to her, raising her hackles. Then a jet black female wolf stepped out of the trees. Enid faced the intruder, stiff-legged. She was not about to surrender her kill! But instead of cowering or taking a threatening pose of her own, the black wolf approached. Before Enid had a chance to act, the black wolf cleaned off Enid’s bloody muzzle with her tongue. Then she approached Enid’s kill, sniffed at it as if she’d never encountered such a thing before, and tore off a chunk. Enid was so surprised she just stood there and let it happen.
The newcomer whined in pleasure like a cub as she devoured the meat. Although her body was strong and well muscled, she ate like she was a starving omega. Normally Enid shared food only with her pack. Her pack was far away down south. Why did this wolf smell so familiar? So…safe?
It took a few moments for her memory to catch up with her.
“You managed to inject the potion after all,” Enid thought at the wolf.
“Not exactly,” the black wolf said in her mind. Hunger satisfied, she lay on her belly and began licking her muzzle and paws clean. “I had help,” she added.
Thing scuttled to the top of her head. When Enid lowered her snout to sniff him, he booped her nose.
Wednesday was now an alpha werewolf like her. Enid would never be alone again, and she lifted her muzzle and howled again for the joy of it.