Other (An Other Novel) by Karen Kincy

Author:Karen Kincy
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0100-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

That night, the not-too-distant crack of gunshots wakes me. I sit bolt upright in bed, then kick off the covers and slide open the window. I crawl out into the cool night air and crouch like a gargoyle on the roof.

A howl pierces the night, and another answers. A gunshot cuts the first howl short.

I stare into the darkness, my eyes rounder than the waxing moon. They’re hunting the werewolves. What do they call it? Curhounding. I imagine silver wolf pelts stained red, and my pulse pounds in my ears. A twisting feeling fills my chest. I grip the windowsill, my sharpening fingernails biting the wood.

My own breathing sounds too loud. I swallow past the tightness in my throat.

A snarl rumbles through the night, faint and faraway, but it scares me as if it were right behind me. I grip the edge of the roof to keep myself from scrambling back into my bedroom. My heartbeat thuds against my ribs.

My pooka half rises slowly within me, leaning against my bones. It isn’t eager to shapeshift and fight. It’s … defensive. Feeling my fear. My fear? It

is

me, of course. I can’t talk about myself as if I have split personalities. I can’t section off half of myself and pile all the recklessness and shame there.

My entire body throbs with pain. I clench my teeth, and a muffled groan escapes. I can’t keep doing this. Shaking, I slide inside and grope through the darkness to the door. In the bathroom, I swig a glass of water so cold it makes my teeth ache, concentrating on swallowing and trying not to look at my shifting reflection.

My gut cramping, I double over and retch. Breathe, Gwen. Breathe. I get a grip on myself and return to my bedroom. Yet another gunshot shatters the night. I want to go out and look, to see who’s winning, even though I know it’s totally stupid. Fear and recklessness battle inside me. Guess which one wins.

I grab a notepad and scribble,

Heard howls. Went out as an owl to see. Don’t worry!!! Love, Gwen

. I leave it on my pillow.

Face flushed with shame, I yank off my clothes before it’s too late, climb onto the roof, and jump. My stomach lurches as I shapeshift. My owl wings strain upward, slowing my descent. I flap hard and gain altitude. The moon shines through a filigree of boughs, casting milky light upon the forest.

Danger draws me like a moth to a flame. I’m just waiting to get burned.

I knife through the darkness, soaring low over the trees. Dark shapes are loping below me, keeping out of the moonlight. The sight of them sends a thrill down my spine. They’re so huge and wild and

real

. They don’t pant, as if they’re desperately trying to keep quiet. I sweep the air with my wings, to keep up without flying too fast.

Behind me, I hear a hissed curse. I swivel my head and see a figure with a gun. Owls must have better hearing than werewolves—I hoot in warning.

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