Sacrificed Soul

Chapter Eighteen

Skunk, who is not only named for his unfortunate encounter with said animal but also for the noxious gas he releases from his deceptively tiny rear end, has shoved his way beneath my throat and forelegs. The tiny ball of fluff's tail is wiggling nervously as Lori stands over us with her hands on her hips. Pep and Step are, in their young minds, very unfortunate to not only be too large to do so, but also to have been beaten there in the first place. They hide from their mother's glare on either side of me, noses pressing as far under my bulk as they can manage.

"Stop encouraging them, Leanne. All of you, shift and get ready for breakfast," she hisses, her hands flailing. I think Lori is at a loss for words, and I don't know which one of us is more surprised.

Regardless, I'm not doing anything to encourage them. At least, I haven't been. When the clan had returned to the house in their fur rather than their vehicles, there was apparently quite the whining of howling pups who wanted to sleep in their fur with me where I had dropped half dead and passed out on the carpet of the living room. Yesterday's anxiety of showing my true body to pack and the stress of my discussion with my mate had taken everything out of me. Besides, the carpet in the family room is not only comfortable, but it smells like clan.

I had only awoken when my eyelid was clawed by a pup escaping the wrath of it's mother, and still I looked blearily up at her, one eye blinking slowly at a time. Lori's second soul was still out like a light, and so while Lori could take the wolf's form, she did not have the same command.

Her foot taps in her impatience, and I groan as yipping pups complain further when I rise to my four feet first, shifting quickly to two as I rub the sleep from my eyes. Folded on the couch is a shirt and pair of sweatpants that smell like Maureen, and I pad over to dress in them.

"Ugh. Finally, she awakes. You sleep like the dead, Leanne. Come on, little mongrels," Lori commands, giving up when the pups still don't listen, threatening them with, "If you don't go up and get dressed right now, Grandma won't give you any bacon."

That has them moving faster than anything. Still attempting to defy her in what little way they can, they stay on four legs as they barrel up the stairs and almost wipe out David in the process.

"I don't sleep like the dead," I complain as my head pokes through the neck of the white tee. It smells like tea-tree oil and Maureen. I like it. It's mine now.

"Spare me. They were all over you like a jungle gym for an hour last night and you didn't wake for any of it."

Oh. I shrug, following her and the still grumbling David into the kitchen. There, the adults of the clan are massaging their temples as though they're suffering from a hangover. The only two of the bunch of us who are bright eyed and bushy tailed are Mammy and Maureen who are bustling around the large kitchen over eggs and toast and too many different foods to name. My mouth waters.

"Baby-girl, grab the orange juice," Maureen commands as soon as we're sighted, "and Leanne, take this over to the table."

I take the plate that's piled high with the bacon my sister had threated the kids with, stealing a crispy piece right from the top as I divert myself over to the long table. Larry is gone, probably back to the firehouse with Uncle John and Sampson. I wonder who covered their shift for them last night.

Sitting myself beside Lenora who has a stack of papers in front of her and red marker in hand, she only gives me the barest of nods, snatching the bacon I offer her before returning to her work.

Aunt Marsha smiles at me from over the rim of her coffee mug, and I return the gesture.

"What's the plan for today?" She asks after slurping the dredges of her drink.I'm interrupted from answering as Mammy drops a mug of my own down in front of me with a pat on my shoulder, "Oh, thank you," I say to her receding back, turning to my aunt again, "I need groceries. Bad."