Page 30 of Raised By Wolves

“Neat,” she says brightly. “But what do you do with them?”

“You eat them, obviously,” I say. My hands are dirty. I start to rub them on my pants, but then I remember the kitchen sink. I may not love the human world, but I love its running water.

“For dinner?” Lacey asks, sounding uncertain. “I was making burgers.”

“I love burgers,” Holo says dreamily. “Especially when they have cheese on them.”

“They’ll keep,” I say. “I’ll just put them in the—the thing.”

“You mean the refrigerator?”

“I forgot what it was called,” I admit. Can you blame me? I’ve never used one before.

The chief comes into the kitchen after I’ve stashed the wild food next to the plastic packaged food.

“I think I saw your friends just now,” he says.

“We don’t have any friends,” I remind him.

“I’m talking about the wolves,” he says.

They’ve come back? Then why did they run away from me?

“They were checking me out,” the chief says.

“They don’t care about you, don’t worry,” I tell him. “They just want to make sure we’re okay.”

“Well, why don’t you tell them that you are, so they don’t keep coming around?”

The chief’s right: they shouldn’t be getting this close to houses. They ought to stay deep in the wilderness where they belong. But I can’t help bristling at his tone. “Is myfamilybothering you?”

“They’re dangerous animals, Kai.” The chief reaches into the thing—the refrigerator, whatever—and gets a beer. “Wouldn’t want to have to shoot one.”

Before I even realize I’m doing it, I’ve grabbed the knife that Lacey was using to chop carrots and I’m pointing it at his chest. “No offense, Chief,” I say, “but if you do that, it’s going to be the last thing that you do.”

The chief frowns, but he stands his ground. “You’re a fierce one, huh, Kai?”

The knife’s shaking in my hand. Maybe I’ve gone too far. Maybe he’s going to throw me in jail again.

Let him try.

“She’s fierce as fuck!” Holo says.

Lacey and the chief whip around and stare at him in shock. “Holo!” Lacey exclaims. “We don’t use that word in this house.”

“Why not?” Holo asks innocently. “I learned it at school.”

Then the chief bursts out laughing, and all the tension in the room suddenly breaks. “Well,” he says, “I guess that doesn’t surprise me. But it’s a bad word, Holo. A curse word, and we don’t use it around here.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Holo says.

“Did you learn any other words today?” I ask my brother.

Holo nods. “Yeah. Shitass, dickface—”

“I think that’s enough,” the chief says. “Thanks, Holo.” He’s still smiling.

And I slowly put down the knife.

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