The Werewolves Who Weren't Read online

  ‘It can’t be that bad.’

  Daniel’s voice went up a strained note. ‘Angels are creatures of pure spirit. We should pass through and around things. There’s no reason for pure spirit to be contained by anything physical, but getting in, getting out, it’s not happening for me. Even in humans the physical part can be contained, but if the soul chooses not to be bound, nothing can hold it.’

  Sam frowned. ‘But maybe it’s some sort of magic? The souls in the Vorpal Sword were bound.’

  ‘Because they believed they were. That’s why the mage used the souls of slaves. They lived all their lives bound, they didn’t realise their thoughts and ideas were their own. Any one of those souls could have flown away without you breaking the sword. A soul is a free thing wherever it is. Even magic can’t hold it.’

  ‘Oh,’ Sam said. He didn’t know what else to say.

  ‘No, it’s me. Just me.’ Daniel slapped a frustrated hand on the wall. ‘For some reason, my body just doesn’t want to do it. It’s the difference between having a concept and knowing it … so Taki is recalling me.’

  ‘Taki?’ Sam said.

  ‘Taxiarchus, the Lieutenant of Angels. We call him Taki.’ Daniel leaned forward. ‘Taki says the message came from the Highest Office. He says He wants me to stay at home for a bit.’ Daniel’s wings drooped. ‘What’s wrong with me?’

  ‘Maybe you haven’t done anything wrong,’ Sam said. ‘Do you have to go straight away?’

  ‘They’ve given me a few things to tie up down here, but then …’ Daniel sighed again. ‘Have you got time to talk tonight? Do you think you can stay up that late?’

  Sam smiled. He thought he could.

  Lunch was chicken pie followed by raspberry tart. Daniel loved raspberry tart, so Sam asked if he could have one for later. This was followed by board games in the living room. Nick tried to show him how to play a video game, which was fun, but it was going to take him a long time to get as good as Nick. Everyone was tired. Each day at court had been stressful, and Sam had had to go back to a foster home while he waited. The Langwades were lovely, but they weren’t his family. This was his real home.

  Then it was night, and they all got ready for bed. Sam was tired too, but it was glad-sleepy, nothing awful. He put the tart on a plate, hoping it cheered Daniel, and went up to his room.

  My room, he said to himself as he opened the door. His own bed had been tucked against one wall, its blue quilt spattered with stars; his own walls plastered with pictures of churches, gargoyles and angels. He had a desk and a lamp and a bag for school. Sam had absolutely everything he’d ever wanted.

  Outside, Daniel struggled to lift the window. Sam opened it and let in the angel. Daniel’s wings jammed in the frame before he pulled them free and tripped into the room.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Sam asked.

  Daniel gestured over his shoulder. Behind him, four faces peered into the room. Bladder, Wheedle, Spigot and the tiny white dove perched on Spigot’s back. They all wore shiny party hats. Even the dove wore a small gold one.

  ‘Yonah, you’re here too,’ Sam said. The dove landed on his shoulder and pecked his face.

  ‘Thought we’d come and crack open a box of champagne truffles with you,’ Bladder said. He shoved an already opened box into the boy’s hand.

  ‘Thanks so much for coming,’ Sam said.

  ‘Coming?’ Wheedle replied. ‘We’re moving in. You’ve got a nice patch of roof up there.’

  ‘Really? Really? That’s wonderful. But how did you get here from the courthouse?’

  ‘Not the courthouse,’ Wheedle said. ‘We’ve been at The Lanes all afternoon. Shopping for chocolates.’

  Spigot squawked.

  ‘All right, maybe “shopping” isn’t the right word.’

  ‘Didn’t anyone see you?’ Sam asked.

  Spigot squawked again.

  ‘Like Spigot says, “It’s Brighton”,’ Wheedle replied. ‘People expect to see things that are out of the ordinary, so no one looks twice at us. The Lanes are fantastic!’

  ‘We’ve spent most of the day pretending to be ornaments outside one shop or another,’ Bladder said. ‘Someone took a photo of me holding a milkshake. I’ll be on Twitter soon.’

  ‘We just move and then freeze,’ Wheedle said.

  Sam laughed and popped a chocolate in his mouth.

  ‘I’m a supermodel.’ Bladder waved his head side to side. ‘Vogue, ladies.’ And the three gargoyles struck ugly poses and stood stony still. ‘If they’re passing we pose outside a shop door. Now vogue.’

  The gargoyles changed position.

  ‘I did hear one girl note we’d been shifted,’ Bladder added. ‘One more time!’

  The gargoyles did a final glamour pose, glancing coyly over their shoulders at Sam. He laughed and choked on his chocolate, and Wheedle had to thump him on the back. The chocolate flung itself from his lungs and, regardless of his sturdy imp frame, Sam knew his back would be purple and yellow soon.

  They all settled down to scoff the rest of the chocolates.

  ‘So, this is it then?’ Wheedle said. ‘Pack together. We can go out on night adventures. Sam can sleep during the day, and the Kavanaghs will keep him safe. And it’s just fun, fun, fun, gargoyle style.’

  ‘He has to go to school,’ Daniel said.

  Bladder spat a chocolate at the wall. ‘He what?’

  ‘I have to go to school on Monday,’ Sam said. ‘It’s all part of becoming human.’

  Spigot shrieked.

  ‘That’s right, Spigot, four days away.’ Wheedle pushed his cow face into Daniel’s ruffled wing. ‘You haven’t told him, then?’

  ‘Told me what?’ Sam asked.

  ‘’Bout the dangers of school life. There are movies,’ Wheedle said.

  Bladder stalked back and forth on Sam’s carpet. ‘All the movies we’ve seen, all of them. Terrible things happen at schools, and with teenagers.’

  ‘You do tend to watch horror movies,’ Daniel said.

  ‘Documentaries, you mean. We watch musicals too,’ Bladder said.

  Spigot carked.

  ‘You’re right, Spigot, West Side Story. You have to watch that one, Sam. It’s horrible, there’s singing and dancing.’

  Sam studied all three gargoyle faces. They shook their shaggy heads. Yonah rolled her eyes but carried on pecking her chocolate.

  ‘Oh, good grief.’ Daniel shook his head. ‘Really, it’s a place full of kids like Sam. Or at least Nick. You gargoyles shouldn’t start worrying him about school.’

  ‘I know about schools.’ Bladder turned to face Sam. ‘I know a lot about schools. You need to do stuff to protect yourself.’

  ‘Schools are quite …’ Daniel started.

  Bladder shook his mane. ‘Don’t you send him defenceless to one of them institutions. They’re called institutions for a reason, Sammy. They’re like prisons, and other dodgy places. You need to go in armed.’

  ‘Armed?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘Take a stick,’ Wheedle suggested. ‘Take a big stick.’

  ‘And what do you think is going to happen to Sam at school?’ Daniel asked.

  ‘It’s worse than an ogre wrestling match. Horrible. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there, Sam,’ Bladder said. ‘You gotta look after yourself against humans.’

  ‘Really? Dogs eat dogs?’ Sam thought of Hoy Poy. Dogs ran from him but they didn’t seem ready to eat each other.

  ‘It’s just a figure of speech,’ Daniel explained.

  ‘Yeah,’ Bladder agreed. ‘It’s not dogs you gotta watch, it’s humans.’

  Sam felt sick. He thought he’d rather face an army of ogres than humans who wanted to eat him.

  Daniel put his head in his hands. His wings ruffled, every feather sticking out at a bad angle. He grumbled. ‘Humans don’t eat each other.’

  ‘That’s not what I read,’ Bladder said.

  ‘Yeah, but the angel’s right, ain’t he?’ Wheedle asked. ‘Most humans aren’t canniba
ls, are they?’

  ‘There’s still a word for it,’ Bladder said. ‘What’s that tell you?’

  Daniel stood up then, banging his head on the ceiling and making the light swing. ‘OK, you lot, on the roof. No one at school is going to eat Sam!’ He spread his wings angrily, but his lack of coordination and the wings’ dishevelled appearance made him look odd.

  ‘Yeah, but they could try,’ Bladder said.

  ‘Go!’ Daniel pointed to the top of the house. ‘Get back up there.’

  Wheedle scarpered away; Spigot followed. Yonah fluttered off the eagle’s back and landed on the desk.

  Bladder stepped towards the window, but he turned and said to Sam, ‘Just watch for groups of people in leather jackets. Run if they start singing at you.’ He rolled his eyes as Daniel pointed again, then climbed outside.

  ‘They will look after you fabulously, even when training takes me away, but don’t listen to a thing they say, all right?’ Daniel said.

  ‘I’ll try not to,’ Sam said.

  Daniel grimaced.

  CHAPTER 3

  Sam lay tucked up under his covers, thinking. School tomorrow. He reminded himself, as Daniel had told him to, of the awful things Bladder had said about all humans, but the Kavanaghs had turned out to be lovely. He lived with them because they loved him. These humans were great, so maybe the others were too. Maybe school wouldn’t be as bad as all that.

  Someone tapped at the window. Sam opened it to see Wheedle’s grinning face.

  ‘We’re gonna go explore the town tonight. Wanna come?’ Wheedle said. ‘Don’t worry about what Daniel said, we’re gonna paint the town red now the pack’s back together.’

  Sam shook his head. ‘No, Daniel’s right. It’s a school night, and Children’s Services say Michelle and Richard must know of my whereabouts at all times. At least to start off. Maybe some time during the day?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll discuss it with His Grumpiness.’ Wheedle scampered to the footpath where Spigot and Bladder waited in the lamplight. Bladder harrumphed, and the trio faded into the dark.

  Sam had almost floated into a dream when he heard Michelle and Richard, on the floor below, discussing him.

  Michelle yawned. ‘I worry about sending him to school. What happens if memories of his old life come back to him while he’s in class?’

  ‘He’ll be fine. Besides, as much as I’d like to, we can’t have him to ourselves forever. Kids need kids. He’ll love school.’

  Michelle’s sleep-faded voice agreed. ‘Yeah. You’re right.’

  Sam exhaled. OK, it couldn’t be too scary if Richard and Michelle didn’t think it’d be so bad. Maybe school might help. He hadn’t had enough time to learn how to fit in, but he had to start somewhere. Although he’d had no practice being normal – maybe the kids would pick him out in seconds. Even Beatrice, who was seven months old, had had more practice than he and she hadn’t stopped blowing bubbles or pooing her nappy.

  But it was either Nick’s school or back to the tutors at the Children’s Services, and for that he’d have to live without the Kavanaghs, which was too dreadful to consider. He’d face a hundred schools to stay with them.

  Two dozen square glass eyes stared at Sam. Despite the sunshine lighting the building, something about those windows reminded him of holes in a cavern wall. Sam searched the strange construction’s face, and was pleased when a little glow caught his eye. More sigils. Daniel had protected the school too.

  A crowd of taller kids Nick’s age moved towards them with grins and chatting. Nick shifted Sam in front of him and put his hands on Sam’s shoulders.

  ‘Hey,’ a girl in a blue jumper said. ‘How you doing, Nick?’

  ‘Yeah, good.’

  ‘This the infamous Sam?’

  Sam heard Nick inhale.

  Another boy, a head taller than Nick, patted Sam on the head. ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey?’ repeated Sam.

  ‘Check out your hair. Nick was right when he said you’re a wild child.’

  ‘Did he?’ Sam looked up and Nick smiled.

  ‘It’s a compliment,’ the tall boy said. ‘You have the dubious honour of being liked by this loser.’

  ‘You were in the news, that’s pretty cool,’ the girl in the blue jumper said.

  ‘Yeah,’ the boy added. ‘Couldn’t make you out behind that grime though, but you really look like Nick. Like a lot. To the point it’s bizarre. But you’re adopted, right?’

  ‘That’ll do for the questions, Isaac. First day’s stressful enough without you lot poking at him,’ Nick said.

  Isaac groaned. ‘Come on, you twerp, we’ve been waiting months to meet him. Call yourself our friend?’

  ‘You can interrogate him more some other time.’ Nick steered Sam towards the monstrous concrete building. The double doors of the school hung open like an ogre’s maw.

  ‘Why were they so rude to you?’ Sam asked.

  ‘We’ve known each other a long time. Isaac and me always talk like that. Guys talk to each other like that when they’re friends. Come to think of it, it is pretty stupid.’ Nick laughed. ‘Oh, but don’t try it till you’ve known someone forever, or you’re close.’

  ‘OK, I won’t insult anyone anyway. I don’t think I want to.’

  Nick smiled, then patted Sam on the back.

  ‘Give me your mobile.’ Nick held out his palm. ‘Come on.’ Sam pulled the phone from his pocket. Nick looked it over. ‘Fully charged? Good. Remember, hold it to your ear, none of this yelling, all right? Too many people will be looking at you. If you need to talk to your friend, get the phone out first.’

  Sam put the phone back in his pocket and nodded.

  Nick gave him a side hug. ‘I know you’ve had it tough, but it will make your life more difficult if other people think you’re weird.’

  Sam didn’t like the word ‘weird’. It was important to not be ‘weird’. If the services didn’t think he was adjusting to living with the Kavanaghs, they would find him somewhere more ‘appropriate’. He didn’t like the word ‘appropriate’ either.

  The reception office buzzed with people moving and people talking. So many people all in one place who seemed to have no unified purpose.

  Violence could break out any moment, Sam thought.

  The receptionist huffed at Nick and raised one pencilled eyebrow at Sam. She didn’t even attempt a smile, just hurried through what she called ‘the paperwork’ then asked him questions. Did he have lunch? Did he have all his books? Could he sit and wait? His ‘buddy’ would be along soon.

  ‘I have a buddy?’ Sam asked Nick.

  ‘It’s just someone who will help you around the school. You have to make your own friends.’

  Sam took a deep breath as Nick left. He tapped on the notebook hidden in his pocket.

  A scruffy boy with dark hair and dark eyes appeared at the reception desk.

  ‘Sam,’ the receptionist called. ‘Come and meet Wilfred.’

  Sam picked up his school bag and looked up to see Wilfred’s wild and wide eyes, like terrified pixies Sam had seen in the middle of the stampede. Even the most nervous of humans had never looked at him like that, and it was such a pure expression, Sam understood it fully.

  The boy gave him a sniff.

  Sam sniffed back. It was a nice smell. A mixture of warm fires, and runs through a meadow, mixed with a happy pet scent. There was hair on his coat. Sam liked him straight away.

  ‘Sam, give Wilfred your timetable. He’s in most of your classes, so should be able to show you where to go.’ The receptionist peered at Wilfred. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Do I have to do this?’ Wilfred asked.

  The receptionist looked Sam up and down. She turned to Wilfred. ‘Yes,’ she said.

  Wilfred rubbed his nose and whimpered. ‘OK,’ he said.

  ‘I’m Sam,’ Sam said, putting his hand out like Richard had taught him.

  Wilfred looked at it. ‘OK,’ he said again.

  ‘Wilfred, this isn’t l
ike you,’ the receptionist said.

  The messy boy scurried away.

  ‘He’s normally friendly,’ the receptionist said to Sam.

  Sam raced after Wilfred. The boy had his timetable.

  Wilfred moved quickly, almost as if he wanted to lose Sam, but even when he nipped around a corner, Sam could smell that warm, friendly aroma. He followed at a run.

  Wilfred was waiting outside a door. He turned and winced to see Sam behind him.

  ‘Uh,’ Wilfred said. ‘This is … this is …’ he snivelled. ‘This is our form room.’

  ‘Can I have my timetable back?’ Sam asked.

  Wilfred handed it to him, holding the corner of it between a thumb and forefinger, and stepping back as Sam reached for it.

  Sam entered the room straight after Wilfred, who slid on to a chair. Sam chose the one next to him as Wilfred put his head on the table. Sam wasn’t sure that a ‘buddy’ would behave like that.

  A woman sat up at a big desk at the front of the room. She peered up at them both and went back to reading her books.

  Sam looked at the timetable: History, English, Science, Mathematics. The psychologists had talked about ‘History’, Sam’s history, trying to get him to tell them everything that had happened to him. Was that what that class was for? Talking about the bad things that had happened in the past? He recognised ‘English’. He spoke English. The Kavanaghs were English. Most of the humans he’d met so far were English, except Mr Speirs, who was Scottish, and Lila Chandran from the services who described herself as Anglo-Indian. Maybe it was a subject that helped him become more English. He had no idea what Science and Mathematics were. The knowledge Thunderguts had breathed into Sam when he first hatched was useful to monsters, but he had been human for only … he closed his eyes and counted … twelve weeks. All he’d learned at the Children’s Services was how to work with numbers, and they’d left him alone to read a lot and answer questions out of books. He didn’t know if any of those skills would be useful.