Howling In The Night | Night Cat #2

Howling In The Night - Chapter 15

Welcome To The Monster Club

“I’m a what?”

“A werewolf.” I replied, wincing at the tone in Dean’s voice. “At least, that’s what I think you are…” I trailed off, not liking the look on his face.

“You know, if I hadn’t just seen you turn from a snow leopard,” he mused through gritted teeth, as he ran a shaking hand through his tangled, twig-filled hair, “I’ve had whacked you on the head with a stick and had you put in a strait jacket.”

I almost laughed at that. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”

He didn’t hear me. “Okay, why aren’t you sure if I’m a werewolf or not?”

“Because, well…” I hesitated, biting down on my bottom lip out of habit. “Doesn’t it seem, I don’t know, unrealistic?”

“Oh, because you being a – what did you call yourself? – a werecat isn’t unrealistic at all, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, but, come on Dean. A werewolf? At least werecats are practically unheard of. Werewolves are basically a bedtime story for teenagers these days. Everyone knows about them. I just… I don’t know… I just thought that maybe it’s the things that are real that aren’t made into teeny bopper movies.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on a minute.” Dean held up his hand in the universal signal for Stop. “are you saying that I can’t be a werewolf because it’s too mainstream?”

Okay, so maybe when he put it that way, it did sound pretty stupid thing for me to say, but I legitimately thought that I had a point. If werewolves were real, the media wouldn’t be plastering their images all over the place and making teenage girls fall in love with them, would they? I mean, because that’s a little weird.

Still, maybe Dean did have a point. Maybe my theory was dumb. Maybe there really—

“Wait. Why does it sound like you want to be a werewolf?” I demanded, suddenly realizing what Dean had been arguing with me about all this time.

His face turned scarlet. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Dean…”

He sighed. “Look, if I’m going to be any kind of screwed-up, supernatural, shouldn’t-actually-exist creature, I think I’d want to be a werewolf, because, well, let’s face it; that would be cool.”

I’m not joking when I say that I felt as if I’d been run over by a steam-roller. “Are you freaking kidding me, Dean?” His eyes widened in surprise by my outburst and I think I might have scared a couple of owls. “All this time, I was terrified about how you were going to handle the news, and you’re actually HAPPY about it?!?” I had stalked up to him and had proceeded to jab him – very roughly, I might add – in the chest. “Jeez! If I’d known that you’d be so damn thrilled about this, I’d have sent you a text!

‘Hey, Dean,’ I went on, in a mock voice holding up an imaginary cell phone. “‘Sorry I couldn’t tell you last night, but err, you’re a werewolf. Okay. Talk to you later. Buh-bye!’” A loud burst of laughter met my ears, succeeding only in pissing me off more. “What the hell’s so funny Dean?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” He replied in between chuckles. ‘But you really do look insane when you’re mad.”

He was lucky I wasn’t holding a brick or something, because I swear to you I would’ve chucked it at him. “I hope you get run over by a pick-up truck and die.” I answered sarcastically.