Damaged Mate

18

Nurse Aurora was seated at her desk, a box of Chinese takeout popped open with a pair of chopsticks set across. She gave a warm smile and gestured toward her desk lamp; I was more than happy to oblige.

“Did you have fun at the harvest festival, Aria?” she asked innocently.

God, she was starting to seriously freak me out.

“I hear tell it is something many students here look forward to experiencing,” she went on, taking my arm as I held it out. “It would be such a shame if you missed out.”

I took another lungful of citrus-lavender, nerves melting away as I spoke. “O-oh. Yeah, I—I had a good time. Got a bit scratched up, though.”

“So I see.” Nurse Aurora carefully rolled up my sleeves, peeling back the bandages to inspect the cuts beneath. They looked like a cat had gotten irritated with me. “Well, it seems you have been taking good care of these. I do not see any reason to be worried.”

Oh, God, was I really going to ask this question? I couldn’t, I’d sound insane. Even for someone who seemed as open-minded as Nurse Aurora, I was pretty sure she’d give me quite the look for asking about werewolves.

And then, as if able to read my mind, she asked, “Tell me, was this scratch from an animal?”

“N-no,” I said. “It—Aiden scratched me by accident.”

Nurse Aurora nodded, sliding a cabinet door open before rummaging around within. “Did you know wolves are more afraid of us than we are of them?”

I blinked, surprised at the sudden shift in topic.

“That is not to say I never needed to treat those with bites or scratches,” Nurse Aurora went on. “But we cannot blame wolves for being frightened at times.” She sighed, waving a hand as she pulled out a tube of ointment and some new bandages. “It is a shame, though, what people tell themselves to justify the killing of wolves. During Ayersville’s first settling, there were many who believed the wolves could pass lycanthropy to others.”

My blood froze in my veins. “O-oh?”

She smiled, applying the last bit of ointment before placing new bandages onto the scratches. “It is quite silly what people believe. As if a scratch from a wolf would cause you to transform into one.”

For once, I was perfectly fine with Nurse Aurora’s creepy ability to read my mind. I let out a soft sigh of relief, rolling my sleeve back down as she sat back in her chair. “Um… thanks. For everything, I guess?”

Nurse Aurora nodded knowingly. “Of course. Feel free to come back for anything.”

With that weight gone, I turned and started toward the door, feeling a bit less panicky than I did this morning. Even if it was just paranoia, I was glad Nurse Aurora had said those things. And it might be for the best that she was so vague about it; I might’ve died of embarrassment if she were direct.

“Yes, it is very silly what folks believe,” Nurse Aurora mused as I closed the door behind me. “After all, scratches do not infect humans, and the bite would simply kill you.”

I blinked, uncertain I’d heard her correctly. I turned to face her, door half-closed, but Nurse Aurora’s attention was back on her food.

“There’s no way,” I muttered, slowly closing the door the rest of the way.

Chapter Ten

A

yersville’s Public Library was exactly what I had pictured. One story, dilapidated brick walls, and an interior that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the late sixties. Laura quickly led me through the front, passing through the fiction section as a check-out desk appeared before us. Leaning back in a floral armchair was a dark-skinned woman with fiercely blonde hair, piled high on her head and pinned back with a number of colorful bobbies. She looked incredibly comfortable in her clothes—a hand-knitted shawl draped over what looked to be a long jean skirt—and a pair of thin, circular glasses hung off her nose as she peered at the pages of her book.

It was the first time I saw Laura ease somewhat. Her posture seemed relaxed, a warm expression crossing her face as she knocked gently on the desk. “H-hi, Aunt Dia.”

Aunt Dia glanced up, pushing her glasses up her forehead with a wide smile. “Little Laurel! How’s my favorite niece?”

She rose from her chair with a slight groan, surprising me with how tall she was. Her height wasn’t as noticeable as Aiden or Clyde’s, but I didn’t expect to be taller than her floor lamp.

Laura wasted no time rounding the desk and wrapping her arms around her aunt’s waist. “Auntie, th-this is Aria. She’s, um, Mr. H-Harvey’s daughter.”

At that, Aunt Dia’s eyes widened considerably. She pulled away from Laura slightly, her eyes scrutinizing me. I didn’t want to be rude, but boy, I was not used to someone entering my personal bubble so blatantly.

“It’s your eyes.”

“Wh-what?”

Aunt Dia leaned back, grinning. “You have Andy’s eyes! So verdant and pure, like a flawless emerald. I wouldn’t mistake those eyes anywhere.”

I smiled nervously, glancing to Laura for some sort of cue. She just shrugged and gave a smile back; this was, apparently, normal for her aunt. Eventually, she slunk back to my side, letting Aunt Dia shift back behind the desk and fold her hands against the surface.

“Um, A-Aunt Dia? We were hoping—I mean, Aria here wanted t-to know about…” She trailed off, now giving me a look of help.

“I was wondering if you knew anything about old myths and legends around this place,” I said. “Specifically about… werewolves?”