The Cage by A. M. Dellamonica

Author:A. M. Dellamonica
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2010-07-27T16:00:00+00:00

JULY

“When Pammy was five, she began spending a couple days a month on my uncle’s farm near Cheyenne,” Paige told the packed courtroom. “He and a local fellow were werewolves, the friend’s daughter too.”

“They ran in a pack?”

“Yes. The adults socialized the girls.”

“Meaning?”

“They learned to avoid people and domesticated animals.”

“Mr. Deenie says lycanthropes are untameable beasts.”

“What does he know? He learned the truth with the rest of the world, in 2002, and he’s no scientist. My family had generations of experience in dealing with this.”

The Crown had done a decent job of making out Deenie as a sadist and misogynist. The jury seemed to dislike him heartily. In response, he was playing on that thread of…was it racism? Not in my backyard-ism? We like to think we’re liberal out here on the West Coast. Still, the idea of having werewolves for neighbours wasn’t sitting well.

Rabid frigging monsters, right?

Courtrooms always look impressive on TV. In my experience, the real thing never measures up: the taxpayer’s dime won’t pay for the kind of glitz you get on even a crummy lawyer show. Everything’s set up in the same place Judge’s bench, jury box, witness stand—but it all looks run down. The people involved don’t come up to TV standards either; they’re real, and as a result they look fake, like they’re auditioning for parts in a community theatre production. The sheriff’s uniforms look badly fitted, and the air smells dusty.

But Paige had gone all out. She was wearing a brand-new cream-colored suit; her hair was newly cut, her nails buffed. Her make-up was subtle, emphasizing her fragility. She looked like a rosebud wrapped in white chocolate.

If she couldn’t convince the jury her sister hadn’t been a threat, it was Game Over. Worse. It would be open season.

“There has been some research since monsterkind was discovered,” the Crown said. “None of it indicates that lycanthropy is in any sense controllable.”

“We aren’t talking about taming anyone,” Paige said.

“No?”

“As humans encroach on forest habitat, mother bears keep their young with them for longer periods of time. There’s more to teach them, you see, about how to cohabitate with humans. The cubs learn it, and nobody says they’re domesticated. They’re living smarter, avoiding people, increasing their chances of survival.”

“This is the same?”

“If bears can do it, of course lycanthropes can. In all the time we lived near Cheyenne, there wasn’t one human disappearance on a full moon. No pet slaughters either, by the way. In fact, towns benefit from the presence of an active pack.”

“How’s that?”

“A well-socialized lycanthrope pack keeps the rest of monsterkind away.”

Deenie was scribbling furiously, probably planning to follow up on that in his cross-examination.

“This werewolf uncle of yours, where is he now?”

“Richard Deenie’s so-called mentor, Kevin Solve, shot him in 2003.”

“The family friend?”

“His house was burned…with him in it.”

“And his daughter? “

The skin around her eyes pinkened.

“Miss Adolpha?”

“He murdered her. Her and…everyone I love.” Not one tear fell. “Because he hates werewolves, and he thinks it’s fun.”

“Objection,” Richard Deenie drawled.

“He likes being patted on the head for being a serial killer.

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