I tore off a corner of one and held it to my mouth. “If it’s a good deal, why has this been going on for years? It’s not like a commune takes all that long to build.”
“Well, it’s a new system, and it’s not entirely legal—yet,” the brown werewolf said. “The communes are still off the government radar, and it takes time and money to build enough housing. We’re essentially stealing from the government to do this. Half-turns that contributed and their chosen werewolveshave first dibs on everything. These communes will spread all over until they are towns big enough to incorporate, and since every werewolf still has the right to vote, we’ll gain real power in the government for once. Werewolf mayors, werewolf commissioners. Maybe one day we’ll have a werewolf governor.”
“This sounds a little sketchy. Has anyone actually seen these places?” I asked.
“Well, not exactly, but—”
“It sounds like someone’s getting their palms greased while giving everyone false hope,” I said, interrupting the barista. “I’d want to see these places for myself before giving money to anything.” I looked around, noting the mood shift. “Hasn’t anyone actually questioned this?”
“I may not have seen the communes, but I have seen towns that have become much more werewolf-friendly,” the barista answered. “Plus, you have to get the kuu, which means you don’t really have a choice. They will take a portion of your money.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I don’t need to live with a werewolf, and I don’t need whatever the hell a kuu is. I’ll just save all the money I get and—”
“And what? Buy a house?” Adam shot me a smug grin. “Who’s gonna sell it to you?”
“It’s a necessary evil, man,” the brown werewolf cut in again. “Even if the communes are just bullshit, the idea’s gaining traction. Those werewolf towns exist, and they wouldn’t have just ten years ago. Sometimes just the idea is enough to spark change.”
I glanced at the chain Adam wore around his neck. “What exactly is a kuu?”
“It’s a piece of enchanted jewelry your chosen werewolf picks out,” the barista replied.
“Why can’t I pick it out?”
“Half-turns aren’t allowed to buy them. They have to be ritualistically attuned to the werewolf before you put it on. The jewelry he picks out needs to be enchanted on the phase of the moon it corresponds with. I don’t know all the details, but I do know that it helps calm the unpredictable urges and violence that will come with the transformation. One of the elders will collect blood from the werewolf and it all happens behind closed doors. All you have to do is wear it and the government won’t throw you in a cell.”
“So, no one questions any of this shit? What happens if I lose this thing?”
Adam grabbed my hand and placed it on his necklace. “Try to pull this off.”
“I don’t want to break it.”
He laughed. “If only.”
I gripped the chain and tried to find the fastener, but there wasn’t one. After I gave it a firm tug, the metal seemed to come to life in my hand, shrinking a bit as I let it go. It really looked like magic—or maybe something secretly high tech that no one was allowed to understand.
“It won’t come off until he’s a full werewolf,” the barista said. “That’s when the contract ends.”
It was around noon when I finally made it home, having spent an extra hour or so fending off unwanted attention. Desperate werewolves from all over Ruskin bombarded me with their weird resumes, some of which looked like they had been carried around for months. The whole song and dance was a terrible reminder of my months searching for a job, but now I was the one with the power to decide whether someone had a home orremained on the streets. It was so easy to put emotional distance between me and them when I was human, but those days were quickly drawing to a close.
The apartment was dark and quiet, save for snoring coming from a giant lump on my bed. How long was he going to sleep? I removed my hoodie and tossed it to the floor before collapsing onto the beanbag chair. With a remote in hand, I flipped on the television for background noise while shuffling through the folded sheets of paper.
Roscoe groaned repeatedly, as the commotion had finally woken him up, but I ignored him. He groaned louder, and I cranked the volume until the duvet flew off the bed, and he jumped out, baring his teeth.
“I’m tryin’ to sleep!”
I muted the television and glared at him. “It’s noon. Wake the hell up.”
Roscoe yawned and scratched his head. “Really?” He trudged unsteadily toward the window and peeked through the blinds. “Well shit. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I just did,” I muttered, unmuting the TV and skimming the next resume for anything interesting. “Why does every werewolf open with how big his dick is?”
“Wait a minute.” Roscoe walked toward me, his eyes wide. “What’s all that?”
“Details of sexual positions and dick sizes, apparently.” I folded the paper and set it aside. “They’re werewolf roommate candidates.”
“Aw, come on, Dakota!”
I glared at him again.
