It’s so not cool to be late to one’s own party. I tried to explain to the vampires, shifters, and werewolves with whom I’ve been partying the last two days that I needed to get home to the Monster Mash, and they finally relented and let me go.
Good thing the Mash is running all week. A number of partiers have posted their stories already, so be sure to see the guest list to see who they might’ve brought along with them.
Here are my special guests. They’re from a YA novel that I’m working on. Hope you enjoy hanging out with them!
Stupid werewolves. They drive me crazy with their idiotic howling at the moon. It sounds like a big pack in the woods tonight – think I’ll stay inside ‘til San gets here.
But I wish he’d hurry. The full moon jacks my nerves and I need to get out for awhile, even though I promised my ‘parents’ I’d stay in tonight.
Yeah, fat chance. I’m just as big a liar in this life as I was in my other.
They’re not really my parents. They’re just who I was assigned to because the Elders said I was too immature to be on my own. Whatever. They can go suck a tree.
A soft tapping at the glass brings a smile to my face. I comb back the blond wisps that’ve worked loose from my ponytail and turn to open the window. Laughter escapes me at the sight of a ridiculous little bat doing flips in the air. I wrinkle my nose and stick out my teeth in imitation of his batface and raise the window a few inches. He swoops in, shifts to human form mid-air, and lands gracefully on his feet. He then bows with a sweeping gesture of his arm.
“Good evening, Madam,” San announces in a mock Bela Lugosi.
“Good evening, Count.” I play the shy lady, drop my gaze, and curtsy.
“Come here, my dahrling,” he continues in the silly accent. “I have a special gift for you.”
He opens his arms and tips his head. I walk into his embrace, then sink my fangs into his exposed throat.
“Ouch, Jade. Do you have to be so rough?” he says through gritted teeth, his voice his own again.
I take a couple more swallows and shove Sanders away. Pretend hugging’s one thing, but he was enjoying it a little too much, which is why I bit him so hard.
“Sorry. Those loony werewolves are giving me a case of the aggros.”
“Yeah, well, don’t take it out on me. And just for the record, they’re on my last nerve too.” He scowls and rubs his neck, then turns to the window and opens it wider. “You ready?”
I ignore his sulky tone, climb onto the sill, and jump the two stories to the ground. I look up in time to see Sanders launch from the window and shift into a falcon mid-air. As he nears the ground, he shifts again into his human body and lands on his feet.
The best shapeshifter at school, he really is quite smooth and graceful. My dead heart twinges as I watch him and guilt creeps in for being such a bitch.
Irritated at myself, I take off across the wide lawn for the woods. I glance back at the cheetah charging after me and smile. It’s one of the only forms in which he can keep up. I pour on the speed, laughing as we race across the grass and down the path to the trees.
We peer through the bushes at the circle of wolfmen gathered in the clearing. One of them is pacing back and forth in the center of the group, thumping his chest as he grunts and growls in their beastly language. I can only imagine what he’s going on about. It’s no doubt the same crap they spout when they’re in human form, about how they don’t have any rights and no one in the community respects them.
I dunno about the rights part, but seriously, who can respect a bunch of slobbering beastmen who go all psycho during the full moon?
Sanders touches my shoulder, grins, and shifts into a swallow. He takes off and lands on a tree branch above the snarling group.
I smile as he swoops down and grazes the top of the head belonging to a tall, thin wolfman. The beast growls and swats the air for the swift bird who is no longer there. Sanders lands in a tree and pauses a moment before picking a new target. After the third time, none of them are paying attention to the one in the center. The growls in his audience at the annoying little bird are beginning to drown out the grunts and snarls of the speaker.
Sanders launches again and this time his target is the nose of the werewolf on center stage. The beastman howls at the insult and the whole pack erupts in chorus with him. Their stupid meeting disintegrates into chaos as they whirl around seeking out the tiny flyer.
Stifling my laughter, I grin at Sanders as he lands beside me and give him a thumbs up.
Now it’s my turn.
I slip into the clearing and remain still while they scan the trees above them for the swallow. A new howl rips the air as one of them spots me. The whole pack whips around in a snarling frenzy, but the leader shoves his way to the front and, turning, growls at them in apparent warning to hold up.
As he faces me, I move in, fast, and tweak his nose.
He snaps at the air and I laugh at him from the edge of the clearing. He roars and leaps for me, but I’m gone. Giggling, I run through the woods with the now bloodthirsty pack on my heels. I stay just far enough ahead of them that they can see me, and even allow the leader to get within a few feet. But as he reaches for me, I lunge forward and we burst through the edge of the trees onto Main Street. I move into blur speed and dart behind the stable that’s across the road.
Sanders glides down in owl shape and shifts to human, then gives me a high-five. Snickering, we turn to watch the confused werewolves as they realize I’m gone and they’re in the middle of the street.
An approaching steamcar slams on its brakes and, tires screeching, slides toward the milling beastmen. It comes to a halt, narrowly missing one of them. The pack turns with a snarl and attacks the car.
“Uh-oh,” Sanders whispers.
“Aw, crap.” I watch in shock as parts begin flying off the car.
The driver gets out and the pack turns to him as he steps away.
“Stop!” he roars at the approaching werewolves. They don’t.
As the first one reaches him, he shifts – into a huge red dragon.
Flames erupt from his gaping jaws and shoot out over their heads. They yelp and scatter, then run back into the woods. But one stops at the edge of the trees, the leader. His eyes glow, reflecting the streetlamp, and he raises his snout as he scents the air, no doubt searching for me. With a glance at the dragon, he turns and follows the pack.
The dragon heaves a big sigh and shifts back to human form. We watch, breathless, as he walks around his car looking at the damage. Shaking his head, he starts picking up pieces and putting them in the back seat.
I have a feeling we’re gonna get in big trouble.
© Copyright 2010 Roh Morgon. All rights reserved.