Strangers▪ Matei Covaci imagine

Fifteen

"Anyway, then I punched him right in the stomach and he's never bothered me again."

"...right. Why did you punch him?" I ask Charlie as we turn onto Glenn Gardens.

"I can't remember. To be fair I was absolutely hammered."

I nod silently, counting down the seconds to when I can be alone.

The last half hour of my life has been awful, and the weather hasn't helped either. When I left the house this morning, I didn't expect to be walking back in the freezing rain, being harassed by a guy who is fast becoming my most hated human. I also didn't expect to discover that the Covacis were in a house fire, that their parents are dead, and that this information would have such a profound effect on me.

We reach my house and I can't help but glance across the road. The lights are on. I wonder if he's in there. I wonder if he's listening to us right now.

"Well, here you go," Charlie says with a smirk, as if he's achieved something by harassing me.

"Thanks for walking me home," I say, half politely, half sarcastically.

"No probs babe."

Babe. Who does this guy think he is?

I start walking up the drive, but even now Charlie doesn't leave my side. Can this guy not take a hint?

"What kind of dog is it?" He asks. Clearly he's trying to stop me from going inside, but why? What does he want?

"Your dog. What breed is it?" He asks.

Shit, I forgot about that. "Oh, um. A small one." I reply.

He looks at me with a smile. It's creepy.

"You don't have a dog, do you?"

Whoever said wolfbloods are more cunning than humans was clearly bullshitting because right now I can't think of anything to say.

He moves a little closer and it takes all my strength not to transform right there on the spot and run away. "I've known you for weeks and I still feel like I don't know anything about you. It's like you've got something to hide."

Yeah, no shit.

"Whatever it is, I won't tell anyone," he says, with a face which suggests he's going to tell literally everyone. "Do you fancy me? Is that it?"

I sigh, finally realising what it is he wants. At least now I know how to get rid of him. "How did you know?" I ask him.

"Trust me, I know when a girl fancies me." He replies, leaning in even closer.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" I ask.

"Course not. But only if you promise to come with me on Friday"

Oh, mother of wolfbloods, what am I getting myself into? "Its a deal" I reply, trying my best to smile.

He flashes me one final smirk and walks away, allowing me to do the same. As I reach the door I notice he's on the phone, out of human earshot. I use my heightened senses and manage to pick up his voice.

"Nah, mate, she's definitely into me. Give me a week and I'll get her to fuck me."

Over my dead body.

I pull a face of disgust before yanking open the front door. As soon as I'm inside the overwhelming smell of meat consumes me, drawing me into the kitchen. My dad turns and smiles, holding a frying pan full of sizzling bacon. It's only now that I realise I haven't eaten all day.

He tells me to sit down and I waste no time in throwing off my bag and grabbing myself a plate from the cupboard.

"Long day?" He asks, placing an unholy number of rare-cooked bacon pieces on my plate.

"The longest," I reply. He sits opposite me with a plate of uncooked bacon, making me frown. "I don't know how you can eat raw meat, it looks disgusting..."

"Wolfbloods ate nothing but raw meat for thousands of years, y/n." My dad explains, "If anything's unnatural, it's all that fruit and quinoa your mother insists on feeding us. In the wild, it was raw meat morning noon and night, and look how I turned out."

He flexes his non-existent biceps, making me snort with laughter.

"Do you ever miss it? Being wild." I ask.

He thinks for a moment. "Sometimes. There are a lot fewer job opportunities for architects in the wild though..."

I laugh. "You wouldn't have to be an architect. You could be a story-teller. You were great at that."

He nods, pretending to think it over. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head.

"Are there any wildie myths about fire?" I ask, "Do they explain why all wolfbloods fear it?"

"I'm not sure, I can't remember any."

We sit there in silence for a while, both focusing more on our food than each other.

"Actually," My dad begins "there's the myth about cerddwr tâns."

"What's that?"

"It's a welsh phrase, it means 'fire walker'. In wildie tradition, it was prophesied that the fire walkers would lead the way into a golden era for wolfbloods. 'Blydissiad', they called it. Any wolfblood who had overcome their fear of fire was called a cerddwr tân. They were heavily envied and almost always became alpha of their pack."

I pause, taking all this in. Then I take a deep breath, contemplating the best way to ask what's on my mind. "So...does that mean Matei and Emilia are cerddwr tâns?"

My dad stops eating and looks at me, stone-faced. "How do you know about that?"

"...Katrina told me" I reply, cautiously.

"Of course she did." He says, rolling his eyes, "Look, it would be in your best interest not to mention it, ok?"

"But why? Why is everyone so scared to talk about it?" I ask.

"That's not your concern, y/n."

"It should be! They live opposite us, dad, we should be there for them." I protest. I can feel my eyes turn yellow, and the black veins crawling up my neck, but I don't care. "They went through the worst hell imaginable for a wolfblood, and you want to pretend as nothing happened!"

My dad stands up, his eyes also turning a glowing yellow.

"You need to remember that this isn't our territory. It's not our right to poke our muzzles into things that don't involve us!" He practically shouts. Almost immediately he realises what he's doing and sits back down, scowling at his plate.

"It's late," he mutters, "I think you should go to bed."