Date: Mon, 12 Sep 2016 05:37:11 -0500
From: Kody Boye <boyekody@gmail.com>
Subject: His Touch of Ice - Part 25

DISCLAIMER:

This is a work of fiction, and contains scenes of graphic violence and
explicit male/male sex. If you are not of the legal age to read this, or
are uncomfortable with this sort of content, please turn back now.

HIS TOUCH OF ICE (The Ice Men, Book 1) is copyright © Kody Boye. All
Rights are reserved.

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"A bit greasy," Guy said, licking sauce off his fingers as the barbecue
dripped out of the sandwich and onto his hand. "Where'd you say you get
these again?"

"Someplace down the road," I replied. "Sorry if you don't like it. I was in
a hurry."

"They're fine." He finished chewing what was in his mouth. "Wait. Why were
you in a hurry? Did something happen?"

"Some girl took an interest in my arm and wouldn't leave me alone," I said,
tucking my fingers into my armpits. "And when I came out of the store after
she left, I saw her being arrested."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Really, it's no big deal. I got spooked. That's all."

"Did either of the cops see you?"

I had no means to reply.

"Shit," Guy said, shoving a fry into his mouth.

"I'm sorry. It was stupid to go out like that. I thought we'd be safe
here."

"I'm not mad at you. Really. It's cool."

I sighed and settled into the seat across from him. "Besides," I said,
lifting my eyes from my food. "I was more concerned with what the checkout
clerk in the convenience store told me than anything Missy Sue said."

Guy froze. "What'd you just say?" he asked.

"I said I was more concerned—"

"No. Her name. What was it?"

"Missy Sue."

"What'd she look like?"

I described her: short, scraggly blonde hair, pretty in a very natural way
and very much a flower child of the seventies. I then repeated what the
clerk had said about something spooking the campers off at the nearby
sites, only to turn my head and find Guy's hands cupping the sides of his
head.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "There's something more you're not telling me."

"Missy Sue," Guy said, "is a regular escapee from the Fredericksburg Home
for Girls. She's known for having a knack of getting out of the tightest
situations... especially during the full moon." He lifted his head. "She's
a Wolf, Jason—a werewolf."

"How do you know?"

"How wouldn't I know?" he laughed. "She's practically been terrorizing the
countryside since that bitch Pierre turned her a few months back."

"How has she been getting away with it for so long?"

"She hasn't really killed anyone... that they know of... and her
simple-mindedness tends to grant her immunity in situations where otherwise
there'd be a lot of speculation. She can walk the streets naked and just be
taken home. It's that simple."

"Does she pose a threat to us?"

"I don't know. Maybe she caught my scent on you and got distracted by your
scar. Maybe she doesn't even run with Mardulf anymore. All I know is: if
people have still been avoiding campsites because of some big animal, it
means she's still running wild. And if she's running where I think she's
been, she's in his territory."

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Guy," I said. "If what I know about
Werewolves is true... they turn on the full moon, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

I pointed to the nearby calendar.

Nestled directly beneath today's date were the words Beginning of Full Moon
Phase.

Guy and I looked at each other. "It's nothing to worry about," he
said. "We'll be fine."

Somehow, I had reason to think otherwise.
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If you enjoyed this installment of HIS TOUCH OF ICE, consider emailing the
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