There were more werewolves here than he’d expected. More vampires, too. Even a simply sheeted ghost or two among the more contemporary or clever costumes. Apparently, there was still an appreciation for the classics at Halloween.
Cooper Dayton leaned back against the outdoor café table as another mob of screeching, giggling children swarmed past. The National Zoo in DC was hosting its annual holiday event, inviting guests to stay past regular hours, don costumes, sing spooky songs and roam the decorated paths between animal exhibits and treat stations. Off the top of his head, Cooper could not imagine a place he’d less like to be.
Fortunately, his own costumed niece, eleven-year-old Cayla, seemed similarly skeptical of the proceedings. They’d managed to avoid the carousel and—Cooper shuddered—kid karaoke station in favor of the quieter areas where Cayla could point out various animals to Cooper and tell him everything she knew about them. What she knew turned out to be a lot. She’d known the exhibits like the back of her hand ever since her mother, Sophie, an expert in all things reptilian, had been asked on as a temporary consultant for some kind of conservation video series the zoo was developing.
Meanwhile, Cooper’s brother Dean had left his old job and started working from home, so he and the animal-enthusiastic Cayla would drive to DC with Sophie once a week to spend the day at the zoo together. They’d tried to convince Cooper to come along many times, but it was Cooper’s father, Ed Dayton, who had shown up at the house this morning insisting that the whole family was going in costume and if Cooper didn’t pin this sunflower to his head and join them for Boo at the Zoo he would “break Cayla’s heart.”
More like coup at the zoo, Cooper thought, pulling off the too-tight headband with the big plastic flower hot-glued to the top as his father waded through a particularly contentious pileup of children with ease. Ed sat on the bench next to Cooper, sighing heavily in the way of old, tired men and people who had just stood in line for a cup of zoo ice cream so small it was finished by the time you made it back to your table. Ed was both, and Cooper felt the brief, alarmed pang of recognizing your parent as mortal and unfamiliar.
Ed had changed a lot while Cooper wasn’t looking. To be fair, Cooper had purposefully and determinedly spent many years not looking. He didn’t know the soft, slow-moving man with a hint of ice cream in his gray mustache and half a dozen Ping-Pong balls glued to his T-shirt to represent butterfly eggs—the stage of the metamorphosis cycle Cayla had assigned him for their themed family costume. It was an unheard of display of playfulness. When Cooper was a kid, his mother already dying, Ed had sent him and his brother out in whatever they could find in the house and use without destroying. More than one year Dean had thrown a sheet they weren’t allowed to cut holes in over Cooper and left him to stumble around the neighborhood alone while Dean hung out with friends.
Now, Ed handed him a small cup of melting ice cream. “They didn’t have your favorite.”
Cooper blinked at the unexpected offering and tried to remember ever having a favorite flavor. He supposed he must have as a little boy. It was strange what you remembered and what you didn’t. Stranger still the things your parents held on to as critically important information, and what they let fall away as bygones, ghosts of the past.
“Too bad your Oliver couldn’t make it,” Ed said for possibly the eleventh time that hour.
“Dad,” Cooper sighed. “I told you he’s out of town. Maybe if you’d called ahead like a normal person instead of banging down the—”
Ed held up his hands in the universal I don’t want to fight but I’m also about to say something that’s going to piss you off gesture. “Did I say that? I just think it’d be nice for your family to get to know him before the big day.”
“Oh my god,” Cooper muttered under his breath, and shoved a spoon of melty vanilla ice cream into his mouth. Truthfully, he was grateful Park was currently visiting his own family’s estate. He should not have to be subjected to this forced bonding experience that Cooper was beginning to suspect hadn’t been Cayla’s idea at all.
Ed’s attitude toward Park was difficult to figure out. When they’d first met in the midst of a murder case last year, Ed had liked Park a lot. The revelation that he and Cooper were dating was equally positive and honestly went a long way toward soothing some age-old tensions between Cooper and his father.
The revelation that Park was a werewolf, that werewolves were indeed a thing at all, had been...a bit more challenging.
Maybe Cooper was a little to blame for that. He’d done his best to keep Park and Ed’s interactions to a minimum ever since the big revelation, running interference at Dean and Sophie’s wedding so that they could only interact at the most superficial level and only agreeing to a handful of short dinners in the last year. At all of them, he’d enlisted the help of Dean and Sophie as buffers. The two got along fine with Park and seemed to have just rolled with the existence of a supposedly mythical being.
But Ed had struggled. He wasn’t antagonistic at all. Rather, he was too interested, wanted to be too involved, wanted to show he cared too much.
It had gotten worse when Cooper told him he and Park were engaged. Now Ed typically brought Park up seven to eight times during a phone call. Was Park fully recovered from his gunshot wound? Had he bought the scar ointment Ed had suggested? Did he like the smell? Were they going to have a catered wedding? What kind of food did Park like? Did he have any allergies?
Basically, asking everything about Park except the things he most wanted to know. What was being a werewolf like? What did it mean for the son whose life was dedicated to them, one way or another?
In an effort to dissuade the questions, Cooper had started teasing rather than answering seriously.
Yes, Oliver’s very happy with the new house. Plus, once he’s done digging out the hibernation tunnels we’ll finally be able to shift the last of these pods out of the foyer, just in time for hatching season.
No, we can’t drive down tonight for dinner. Do you think Blood Moon rituals can just be rescheduled willy-nilly?
That didn’t seem to be working at all if this sudden, almost desperate trip to the zoo was any indication. The only flaw in Ed’s plan? Park wasn’t getting back to DC until tomorrow. Lucky bastard.
“There they are.” Ed waved at the rest of their crew. Dean was wrapped in translucent green cloth to represent some kind of larvae or something. Sophie looked like she’d just walked off a runway in a black-and-neon-green turtleneck jumpsuit striped like a caterpillar, curls styled into two large buns. And Cayla, the main event of their little cycle, had her face painted in monarch colors, white beads popping against her braids, orange butterfly wings streaming out from under her arms.
Cooper and his dad stood to join them. “Don’t forget your costume,” Ed said, grabbing the sunflower headband.
“Oh no,” Cooper said with heavy sarcasm. “What a loss that would have been.”
“Cayla was very anxious you wouldn’t feel included,” Ed said meaningfully, and Cooper shoved the hideous thing back onto his head.
“Lucky for you Oliver wasn’t here after all. What was he supposed to be, my stamen?”
Ed flushed, shook his head and wordlessly joined the others. Hopefully that would ward off some Park questions for a little while at least. He didn’t want to have to pull out the obscene pollination joke he had ready, but desperate times and all that.
For the next hour, Cooper managed to avoid his father, and chatted with Cayla, which mostly consisted of listening to her read the informational placards to him at every exhibit, peppered with what he could only assume were completely made up facts like “The beaver’s incisors keep growing all his life and his favorite color is purple.”
“That makes sense” was all Cooper ever seemed required to say, and Cayla would nod as if satisfied at his gullibility.
Sadly, his guard against adult conversation eventually skipped ahead to walk with Ed and Sophie, and Dean immediately fell back to join Cooper.
“Funny kid,” Cooper offered to his brother.
“She’s awesome,” Dean said, vibrating with pride for his stepdaughter. “She could be the next great zoologist, if she wants. Make bonkers discoveries, change the world, you name it.”
Sweet as it was, Cooper couldn’t help but think of the last great zoologist he’d known and the discoveries she had wanted to use to change the world. True to her word, Dr. Freeman had maintained her stubborn silence after the Trust refused to give her a deal, not even speaking to Cooper the two times he’d visited.
The first month after that meeting with Cooper, Park and Cola had been on high alert for any whisper of a threat. The second month only Park had remained vigilant, side-eyeing anyone who got close to Cooper and coming up with excuses not to leave him alone. Now, after three months without anything more dangerous than a paper cut, even Park had to agree her ominous warning act may have been nothing more than that: an act meant to manipulate him one last time. After all, who on earth would have any reason to be obsessed with Cooper, of all people?
Dean nudged him out of his thoughts. “What’s with the look? Is my parental bliss giving you ideas? Might there be little Park-Daytons in your future?”
Cooper snorted. “I think not.” One afternoon seemed far too little time to decide parenthood wasn’t for you. On the other hand, it had been a long afternoon. He liked Cayla a hell of a lot, but awkward Uncle Cooper was about as much energy as he could currently imagine putting into all of that.
“You never know,” Dean said teasingly. “Two years ago I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be getting married, but here we are, big day just around the corner.”
“Corner? What corner?” Cooper protested. “We haven’t even set a date yet. There’s no game plan. No decisions made. No reservations booked. No guests invited. And definitely no corners, approaching or otherwise.”
“But at least you’re handling it well,” Dean said brightly. Cooper shot him a look and Dean patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Listen, you’ve just got to start with the easy stuff. Figure out who you want there first. When you know how big an event it is, you’ll know what sort of space you’ll need, and that’ll tell you what date to pick. Bam. Wedding planned. My fee’s in the mail.”
Cooper groaned. “Who’s coming is the hardest part.”
“Well, there’s us, of course. What about Oliver’s family? You’re going to invite them, right?”
“I see you’ve been speaking with the voice I hear in my head at three a.m. while paralyzed with anxiety. Good, good.”
Dean frowned. “Does his family suck? Is that why you’re not up there visiting with him?” He leaned closer to Cooper. “Do you want me to fight someone for you?”
Cooper rolled his eyes. “They’re...fine. I like most of them fine. His siblings have been really nice to me these last few months. Their partners too.”
Well, they’d been cordial, anyway. Ever since he and Park had compromised and bought their weird little house on the woodsy property outside of DC, the Park pack had taken it as some kind of signal and accepted Cooper was here to stay. Even Park’s grandmother Helena had called him out of the blue to extend only mildly reserved well wishes on their recent purchase of “a sweet little territory.” Cooper still wasn’t sure what the appropriate response to that was supposed to be, but his nervous guffaws of laugher probably hadn’t warmed the matriarch’s heart toward him much.
Of course, what Helena hadn’t known then was that in a month or so, that “sweet little territory” was going to dramatically expand. Cooper and Park were currently in the process of finalizing the purchase of the Maudit Falls mountain retreat. By the end of November, the retreat would be protected from territory-hungry neighbors and could remain a sanctuary for rebel pack runaways. This was a good thing.
What Cooper hadn’t expected, but should have, was just how much politics was involved. After years of keeping his head down and leaving his past as the Shepherd behind, Park was essentially putting himself back on the board in a big way by claiming territory directly between two powerful packs, one of which happened to be his own family and the most powerful pack on the eastern seaboard. Park wasn’t just “visiting his family.” He was on a diplomatic mission of goodwill. It was an extremely sensitive matter.
Considering that Cooper was responsible for at least two family members’ arrests, both he and Park agreed he could sit this visit out. Goodwill and sensitivity were, alas, not his strong suits.
“It’s not that I’m opposed to inviting them,” Cooper finally said to Dean with relative honesty. “I just don’t even think they’d come. Weddings aren’t...really a thing for people like them. I don’t know if it’s really a thing for people like me either. Sometimes I think it would be simpler to just not do it at all and pretend we did.”
Dean whistled. “Don’t tell Dad that. He’s been working on his speech practically since the day you told us.”
Cooper stopped in his tracks, horrified. “Speech? No. Absolutely not. If you care about me at all, you won’t let that happen. God.”
Dean shrugged easily. “If that’s what you want, I’ve got your back. And god knows Sophe is always down for some covert sabotage.” He hesitated.
“But...” Cooper prompted.
“But I don’t see what the big deal is,” Dean said. “He’s proud of you. Happy you’re happy. Obsessed with Oliver, which is yeah, annoying, but we’re working on it, honest. What’s the harm in letting him do his little speech? Hell, let him say he loves you and knock the grand sum total of that rare event up to four per lifetime.” He smiled sheepishly. “Mmmm, ignore any projecting at the end there. But you’re getting married, Coop. Aren’t you—well, I mean, aren’t you excited?”
Cooper looked away from Dean and studied his own feet as they approached the next exhibit. They’d lagged farther and farther behind as they’d spoken, and the others were already disappearing down the American Trail with some speed, Cayla eager to see the sea lions’ feeding.
He wasn’t sure he could explain how he felt. Not even to himself, never mind to his brother, for whom life had always been fairly, well, straightforward. But Dean was looking at him with such genuine curiosity and patience, his dark eyes so like those of their mother’s, that Cooper had to give it a try.
“I’m excited to be married. I’m not excited to get married,” he said finally, then shook his head. “I don’t know. Every time I think about it and try to settle on some kind of plan, I feel...guilty.”
Dean looked confused.
“Guilty that we’re doing it all for me,” Cooper explained. “That if it was Oliver and another—and someone else like him, they wouldn’t be doing any of this at all.”
“Because werewolves don’t get married,” Dean said.
“Keep your voice down,” Cooper said, glancing around, a tad uncomfortable, but the only person around was a lone woman with a peroxide blond buzz cut standing a good thirty feet away at the next exhibit. Even as he eyed her, she turned her back to them and walked swiftly away.
“I was aiming for a little more discretion,” Cooper murmured, watching her disappear down the trail. “But yeah, that. I know Oliver wants to be helpful, but he just keeps looking at me like ‘this was your idea, this is your kind’s ritual, what do we do now?’ And I don’t have a clue, because before I met him, I never once thought about it. I never once imagined this would be my life. But now this guy who doesn’t give a shit about marriage has agreed to marry me because he loves me, so I better think of something good. I keep researching weddings, but most of the blogs and articles and goddamn mood boards aren’t made for me either. No brides here. Groom’s party? I don’t have two friends to rub together. Choose a location significant to your relationship? Most of ours are crime scenes.”
Cooper realized his voice had steadily gotten louder and more panicked. He took a deep, steadying breath. Then another.
“Everyone wants their wedding to be perfect,” Dean said gently. “But they never are. And that’s okay. Just make a couple of romantic gestures and keep the alcohol flowing and it will be fine.”
Cooper shook his head. Maybe that was true for Dean and lots of other people, too. But Cooper didn’t have that luxury. Whether he wanted it to or not, Park agreeing to marry him was making a statement. This is what Park was choosing instead of another wolf. A human ritual tying him to a human. People were going to notice. People were already starting to take notice.
The thought of trying to explain that to Dean was exhausting, though, so Cooper let it go. “I’m just not cut out to be the center of attention like that,” he said instead.
Dean snorted, a loud, disbelieving sort of sound. “One of these days you’re going to have to accept you’re really not the shrinking wallflower you claim to be,” he said mysteriously as they walked up to the next animal exhibit.
Cooper frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dean didn’t answer, just buried his hands in his pockets and shook his head as if chastising himself for speaking.
“Seriously,” Cooper added. “I’m not trying to fight—what do you mean by that?”
“Seems like a lot of people spend a lot of time bending over backward to make you happy, Coop.” Dean shrugged. “Maybe sometimes it’d be kinder to let them.”
Stunned, Cooper opened his mouth to protest, but Dean cut him off. “Look, forget I said anything. You’ve obviously got a lot going on and I wasn’t trying to make light of that. If there’s something I can do to help, just let me know, okay?”
Then, to Cooper’s shock, Dean reached out, pulled him into a half hug and ruffled his hair. “But for now, try not to worry quite so much, huh?”
Cooper nodded, still processing, and Dean moved toward the next animal exhibit. “Speak of the devil.”
Letting him change the subject, Cooper glanced at the informational placard and realized they had made their way to the zoo’s wolf enclosure. A low metal railing indicated the end of the pavement and a few feet past that, an extremely tall chain-link fence cordoned off the habitat itself—nothing more than a smallish dirt hill that curved out of sight behind strategic greenery. Probably disguising where the zookeepers came in and out. There were a couple of trees on the hill and some artfully placed rocks, but that was it. Honestly, it looked more than a little depressing for an animal whose natural territory could be more than a thousand square miles in the wild. But the morality of zoos was complicated, and frankly, Cooper didn’t know nearly enough about the subject as a whole, this zoo in particular, or what had brought this specific wolf into captivity to voice an opinion one way or another.
They spotted the animal of the hour quickly enough. It was hard to miss, sat somewhat daintily under the tree, watching them. It certainly looked healthy, anyway. Its pitch-black fur was almost absurdly shiny, and it looked sturdy in size and exponentially more alert than the beavers had. In fact, Cooper felt pretty confident it was studying them, making note of every small movement.
“It says here there should be a single female gray wolf,” Dean said, reading out loud.
“Doesn’t look gray to me,” Cooper said, comparing the wolf to the illustration on the placard.
“No, I think she’s that one.” Dean pointed to a second wolf that Cooper hadn’t seen. It was a good deal smaller, had dirty, whitish fur, and seemed super tense. Crouched down in the very back of the exhibit, practically curled up to the fence, all of her attention was focused on the black wolf.
“It says gray wolves can be any color. Typical scientific tomfoolery,” Dean went on. “But it doesn’t mention the big guy. He must be new.”
Cooper hummed an acknowledgment, but couldn’t tear his eyes from the black wolf. Admittedly, he couldn’t say the last time he saw a wolf that was an actual animal and not a werewolf in fur, but he didn’t remember them looking this...aware. Knowing.
“What’s wolf language for come closer and introduce yourself, please?”
“Don’t be a dick,” Cooper said.
“What? Doesn’t Oliver ever get furry around you?”
“Sure. And miraculously he doesn’t lose the ability to understand English.”
“I didn’t say he did!” Dean protested. “But doesn’t he, you know, communicate as a wolf, too? I mean, he’s not just a human who happens to turn into a wolf a la Lon Chaney Jr., is he? He’s a fully different species—oh, forget it. Never mind.” He clicked his tongue and pitched his voice a little higher. “Come here, cutie. Come here.”
The black wolf stood up and walked purposefully toward them, not stopping until it was directly at the fence. It sat again with an annoyed little sniff.
“Holy fucking shit,” Dean breathed. “Did I—did I do that? Is this my Dr. Dolittle moment? I can’t believe Sophie’s missing my Dr. Dolittle moment.”
“Shhh, how about some Dr. Do-less,” Cooper said tensely. He stared at the wolf and the wolf stared back. Up close its eyes were a light silvery-blue.
Suddenly, it winked.
Beside Cooper, Dean choked.
“Hello,” Cooper said tentatively.
The wolf jerked its head to the side as if gesturing them over. Then it stood and walked along the fence to the corner behind the brush where the employee access presumably was, and disappeared.
Cooper exchanged looks with Dean.
“I can’t believe you were giving me shit about not speaking wolf,” Dean whispered. “You literally just booked a date with one.”
Ignoring his brother, Cooper glanced around to make sure they were still alone and hopped over the short railing.
“Wait! You shouldn’t—” Dean protested.
Cooper hurried along the fence in the same direction the wolf had disappeared. He scrambled through the brush, hearing Dean curse and follow behind him. About a hundred feet later, the carefully placed foliage cleared and he found the access point to the habitat: a double door system in the fence, where one door needed to be closed before the next opened, in order to prevent escape. Cooper only noticed that in periphery, distracted as he was by the pile of concrete slabs outside the fencing, on top of which sat a very naked man.
A very naked man Cooper had met before.