To Catch a Wolf by Susan Krinard Read Free Book Online

looks real to me." He
    grinned slyly. "You want to go in there and find out?”

    "They won't let no one in there.”

    "Then just put your hand up to the bar. See what it does.”

    The milling crowd between the two men shouted mocking encouragement. "Go on!" a
    store clerk urged. "Stick your hand in and see what happens!”

    The farmer glared. "I ain't here for your amusement—" He jumped back with a cry as
    Morgan lunged at the bars, baring his teeth for effect. The farmer's companion fell onto
    his knees and crawled away among the feet of the observers. Within seconds, the
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    crowd was abuzz with delight and terror, pressed as far toward the rear of the tent as
    they could go.

    "B'God, it is real!”

    "Don't you dare swear, Cal!" a woman cried. "It's a minion of the Devil himself!”

    "Aw, it's just a man in a fur suit
    ”

    Morgan stalked the length of the cage and back again, curling clawed fingers in
    menacing fashion, and retreated to his corner. Some foolhardy soul poked a stick
    through the bars; he snapped it in two with a casual swipe of a hand. A lady shrieked
    and pretended to swoon. He had seen it all a hundred times.

    One of the sideshow talkers arrived to herd the townies to the next attraction and on to
    the big tent for the show. Once again The Terrifying Wolf-Man was a spectacular
    success.

    Morgan released his hold on the Change and let himself become human again. He had
    grown used to the discomfort that accompanied the unnatural half-shaping, but it was
    only after the performance that he felt the ache deep in his bones and muscles.

    Stiff and sore, he let himself out of the cage and shrugged into his dressing gown. He
    splashed his face with water as if he could wash away the stares of the humans, the
    constant smell of their bodies crammed into the small tent day after day. Always the
    same ritual, the same contempt, the same resolution.

    Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll go. I've done enough.

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    He laughed and pushed wet hair away from his face. He'd let it grow until it reached his
    shoulders, heavy and wild like a wolf's pelt. He meant it to remind him of who he was,
    and who he was not.

    He stripped off the dressing gown and pulled on a shirt and trousers. Nearly five months
    he had been with the circus. Five months, and Harry had said just yesterday that the
    troupe had enough money saved to set up in winter quarters without the risk of
    disbanding.

    Thanks to the Wolf-Man, whose fearsome reputation had preceded the circus in every
    town, village, and fly-speck camp they'd visited. It didn't matter that French's Fantastic
    Family Circus was still a modest wagon show, unable to compete in grandeur with the
    great Barnum or Forepaugh. Each farmer or rancher, merchant, or whore—young and
    old, male and female, simple or smart—had to see for himself if the creature was real,
    or as fake as the farmer had claimed. Some came back two or three times. None of
    them ever learned the truth.

    They didn't want to. And Morgan endured their ignorant speculation and taunted them
    with his poses and snarls. He had learned to be amused at the blindness of men.

    The troupers were equally blind. They had accepted him completely, welcoming him as
    if he had always lived among them, but he had done for them all he was capable of
    doing.

    Tomorrow, I go.

    He rinsed the sour taste from his mouth and walked out into the night. Beyond the
    lanterns that marked the perimeter of the circus grounds lay a swathe of darkness, and
    beyond that the lights and bustle of Colorado Springs. The cries and applause of the
    audience in the big top drowned out the murmur of crickets and the soughing of the
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    wind in the cottonwoods along the creek. Every night he stood and listened, poised to
    run from everything he despised.

    I could leave now,