Black Wolf (16 page)

Jess' rambling
ended when they reached the grocery store, and the discussion
turned to what to get. Neither had the skill or inclination to cook
anything complicated, so for the most part their shopping trips
consisted of food in cans and boxes, and food that went in the
freezer. The strong tastes of instant food had, at first, made
Shaine nauseous; he'd grown accustomed to that, as he had to the
noise of the city that had assaulted his sensitive ears, and to
countless other new experiences.

None of it
mattered as much as protecting Jess as best he could. He'd adapted,
and so well Jess had never noticed. Not that Jess had been in any
condition to notice anything beyond his own misery, for most of the
time Shaine had known him.

Paying always
took a few minutes, since Jess' income tended to be in the form of
coins; the woman at the cash didn't mind. They rarely did, unless
it was extremely busy.

Between them,
they could carry everything without much trouble.

They cut
through a park, traded greetings with a couple of acquaintances,
paused to compare notes on life for the last few days with someone
they knew somewhat better—where they'd had luck in shoplifting or
panhandling, who was doing what and the current activity levels of
the cops, usual sorts of things.

Shortly after
spotting Jess on the streets the first time, Shaine had decided
that he had to stop wandering and settle down; accordingly, he'd
found a single-room basement apartment, with all the utilities
included, at a price he'd be able to manage alone. Unfortunately,
the heat was controlled by the apartment upstairs, and the
cement-tile floors and paint-over-plaster-over-cement walls tended
not to hold a great deal of heat. Nonetheless, it was certainly
better for Jess than sleeping outside, and cold didn't particularly
bother Shaine. And the landlord had no objection to being paid in
cash each month, without asking questions.

Shaine
unlocked the door, flipped on the light, and both paused to remove
slushy boots—Shaine was, by nature, extremely fastidious, and had
simply laid down the law; that one, at least, Jess had never
challenged.

A mosaic of
second-hand throw rugs from yard sales and thrift stores covered
most of the floor; they crossed it to the corner that held what
passed for a kitchen. Jess stacked cold stuff in the freezer and
fridge while Shaine put the rest away on the shelves above the
sink.

"Going out
tonight?" Jess asked, filling a glass with milk and heading over to
sit on the bed. The room was small enough that the double bed
dominated it, and left scant room for other furniture. Clothes were
in the closet or a collection of stacked plastic milk crates. In
one corner, under the window, stood a chair Shaine found
comfortable, with a reading lamp and a stack of paperbacks on the
small table next to it. On a pair of upturned milk crates sat an
old fourteen-inch TV and a small stereo probably discarded because
one of the two cassette decks no longer worked. The furniture had
all come second-hand from one place or another, except the milk
crates, which they'd filched from beside a store one night.

Shaine
considered that, while he scooped a handful of cookies out of the
bag and sprawled in the chair to nibble on one. "Nah, I don't think
so. This weather is depressing, I'm really in no mood to deal with
assholes tonight." He probably should, there was February's rent to
keep in mind, but one night wouldn't make any great difference.

"Good timing,
then." Jess leaned down, without spilling his milk, to grab his
black canvas backpack and drag it over. One-handed, he untied it,
and fished out a paperback, which he tossed to Shaine. "Forgot it
earlier."

Shaine caught
it neatly. "Thanks." Jess had figured out in a hurry that Shaine
read voraciously, regardless of genre or subject, fiction or
non-fiction; a week seldom passed that he didn't present Shaine
with at least one, usually paperbacks, shoplifted from used or new
bookstores. Any in good condition Shaine traded in at a used
bookstore close by, and the others he donated. The library had
fussed so much over Shaine's inability to prove his address or even
his identity that he'd given up on getting a card.

Besides, he
knew Jess liked being able to give him something, and he wasn't
about to discourage anything that made Jess feel good, not when
there was so little risk involved.

He'd had long
enough to learn to recognize the way Jess dropped his gaze just a
bit and shrugged.

Jess stretched
out on the bed on his stomach, reached out to turn on the TV, and
flipped through the three channels they could actually get
relatively clearly. He settled on something, a sitcom from the
sounds of it, and dragged a pillow into reach to cross his arms on,
his empty glass on the floor next to him. Hardly mind-broadening...
but, well, neither was some of what Shaine read, and if it gave
Jess a chance to relax and escape reality for a while, so be it.
Shaine switched on the lamp, turned off the overhead light, and got
comfortable with the book he was two-thirds finished. Distracting
as the noise of the TV was, there was something comforting in it,
and in Jess' presence only a few feet away.

Hunger, later,
sent him to the kitchen to toss chicken-and-broccoli-flavoured rice
mix into a pot of boiling water; when it was ready, he split it
between two plates, and gave Jess half, before returning to his
book.

Sudden quiet
made Shaine glance up; Jesse stretched lazily, and yawned.

"There's never
anything interesting on after the late night movie. And I think I'm
tired."

"Sleep
couldn't hurt," Shaine conceded.

Not long
later, they were curled up together in the bed, under the layers of
blankets Shaine had hunted down here and there. Jess snuggled
close, and Shaine slid an arm over him to keep him there.
Sometimes, Jess complained that Shaine took more body heat than he
shared, but that wasn't something Shaine could change, and these
days Jess ignored it except on particularly cold nights. The
company, Shaine thought, mattered more.

"Know
something?" Jess murmured dreamily after a few minutes.

"Mmm?" Shaine
said drowsily.

"We're gonna
have somewhere nice to live someday. A whole house, and maybe we
can make the basement into a couple of good apartments for people
like we used to be. And we'll have a stereo with big speakers, we
can play music all we want, as loud as we want, 'cause the cops
never mess with real people, just with people they don't think are
people. And a decent TV, with cable. And we can walk into a store
and buy all the cool clothes we want, and we'll buy a really
awesome car, a classic Mustang. Should we paint it black or red?
Maybe a convertible. Anyway, then we can drive to a restaurant, a
really good one, and we can order everything we want. A big steak
and lots of fries. Chocolate sundaes with whipped cream and
cherries. And after we're done, we can go home to our own house..."
The words trailed off.

Shaine stroked
Jesse's hair affectionately with one hand, forbore to ask where
they were to get the money for house, stereo, TV, clothes, car, and
dinner. He'd heard variations on the theme dozens of times.

"Yeah, Jess,"
he said softly. "Someday."

Someday maybe
I'll figure out a way to get you there.

The
Quicksilver Sphynx

Miscellanea, February 1994

Nick 'Winter

The first-of-the-month
Sabbats are really awful to write about, since while I'm writing
this it's before Brigid, but by the time you read it Brigid will
have been and gone. Therefore, I'll just say I hope we all have
heaps of fun, and leave it there.

Welcome home and
congratulations, Coven Kharis! And, Anton tells me, he's finally
completed what sounds like an exhausting series of hoops to go
through to get everything sorted out properly, medically and
legally. In every possible sense, 'Nina' is entirely history.
You've all been missed, through all that time away, and it's
wonderful to have you not only home to stay but happy. Finding who
you are and being that is hard enough without the extra
complications! Congratulations from Coven Winter and lots of other
people!

Donovan 'Sky-Drum will
be opening a new shop on the 25th, selling hand-made clothes and
similar by him and a few others in Haven. Partly conventional,
partly magesilk. I didn't even know that it was possible to
incorporate things like buttons and zippers into magesilk, although
a wolf changing while wearing it will destroy that, and I never
thought of sewing magesilk to create more complex effects. I can't
wait to see what creative minds have invented for us! It's in the
old lapidary shop near Venus Alive. Watch for Arachne's Loom.

My recommendation for
the rest of the paper: on page three, there's a very interesting
and rather funny article on the cultural mess in mixed villages:
the blending of given names and surnames (surnames? who uses those,
anyway? coven names are usually more useful!) from opposite sides
of the globe, and some of the things we've adopted from those
varying cultures, past and present.

Exotica is at it
again—do they never stop? When do they find time to do anything
else? They're already well on the way to creating a new work of
art. My Exotica source Cari 'Dragonfire won't leak any secrets, but
she says this one plays more with Egyptian mythology rather than
the Celtic and Classical they usually do.

The Brewery, White
Stag, Solomon's Seal, Venus Alive, the library, and The Everything
Else Shop are all going to be involved in a major art display.
Paintings, sculpture, and related sorts of things will be at the
places I just named for a week, starting on the 20th. Some will be
for sale, some won't, each piece will say. These are all Haven
artists, so be supportive!

Deanna 'Sundark tells
me she's helping out as part of a group of roughly half a dozen who
want to try to put together a computer database of useful subjects,
and they're looking for all the input possible. They're starting
off with gems, crystals, and stones, and the various powers of
each. Since they want this to be as complete as possible, they'll
include all the information anyone can give them. Preferably
written, and send it to Sundark, or to Covens Moonstone, Merrymoon,
Dragonfire, Tabbycat, or Harpsong, or to Grant Londry.

Lindsay has some new
toys in at Venus Alive, among them new scents in massage oils, and
leather in various forms.

On to historical
notes. February's been a pretty slow month in Haven history. Ananda
Fedorov completed quite a useful book on worldwide magical
correspondences in 1986, I can't think of anyone into ritual magic
who doesn't have a copy. I've been told people are tired of hearing
about Coven Starluck, so I can't tell you their mage Brydie Isadore
died at the age of 87 of pneumonia.

Maybe March will have
more interesting history.

11

Jesse wondered
how he'd gotten from hitchhiking to Haven, to being in the back of
Sundark's van.

Okay, granted,
he'd arrived moments before Bane and Cynthia and Deanna left to
pick up Flynn and Gisela; Kevin, it seemed, was already at Coven
Winter's house. Okay, granted, he'd somehow managed to time his
visit for Dandelion's anniversary as a coven, and found himself
invited to join them.

It was still
sudden enough to make his head spin.

Flynn first,
who hopped into the back and greeted Jesse with a smile; then
Gisela's house. Gisela saw him, and immediately pounced for a hug
that might have startled her as much as it did him, because she
blushed and retreated quickly to hide in Deanna's shadow.

"Good timing,"
Flynn commented. "Tonight's going to be fun."

"Mm. I don't
think I've met anybody from Winter or Dandelion for more than a
couple of minutes."

"Don't worry
about it," Cynthia assured him. "No one's expecting you to remember
names of people you've only met briefly."

Coven Winter's
house was medium-sized and well-kept, the nearest neighbours some
distance on either side. Bane parked the van, and everyone headed
for a door at the side. Cynthia tapped briefly, opened it, and
shooed everyone into a warm, bright, and reasonably large kitchen.
Haven seemed to be fond of big kitchens.

Lori, Kevin's
cousin, who looked so much like him, turned away from the sink,
wiping her hands dry on a dish towel, and smiled warmly. "Jesse!
Hi!" In the background, he could hear a lot of voices, and
music—Meatloaf, he thought.

"Jess?" Kevin,
doing something at the stove, glanced back. "Get in here, you. It's
cold out there. If you wanted to visit, why didn't you call?
Someone could've come to get you."

Jesse
shrugged. "It's not that bad. Are you sure I'm not interrupting?"
There was a truly astonishing amount of food on the go in that
kitchen.

"The best
possible time for you to come," Lori laughed. "We would have
invited you, if we'd been able to, but you haven't called since we
decided to do this. Consider yourself invited."

"There's no
room in this kitchen for extra bodies," Kevin said. "Take your
boots off and go get comfy in the living room until supper's
ready."