Ruth poked the teabag in her mug with a coffee stirrer, swirling it back and forth in the rose-colored liquid. She could feel her watch ticking softly against her wrist, lining up with her pulse and the persistent twitch in her left eye.

Noah was late. 

A girl in a frilly skirt leaning up against the counter cast a pitied look her way. Ruth forced a smile and stabbed once again at her teabag, nearly tearing a hole in it. The tables around her were sparsely filled with couples enjoying coffee and dainty scones. She let her eyes drift between them, settling on hands clasping and knees brushing under tables. This town spilled something into her, a wanting she didn't think she'd ever have. 

The door to Steep & Eat swung open and Noah skidded in. He leapt into the seat across from Ruth, out of breath and clutching a brown paper bag. His soft, brown hair stuck up at odd angles and his eyes were bright. 

Ruth smiled dryly and made a show of looking at her watch.

"I know, I know," Noah slid the paper bag across the table, "I brought you this as penance. Homemade. My mom's."

Ruth opened the bag to find two sugar cookies. She pulled them out and ignored the grumbling from Mason Greer, resident baker, standing ten feet away behind the counter. 

Noah laughed and called out, "Don't worry, Mr. Mason, I'll buy some bread on the way out." He reached across the table and swiped one of the sugar cookies. Ruth's eyes widened when his fingers brushed hers.

Oh, she wanted. Bad.

It had been a week since her return to Birchfield and Noah had stopped by almost every other day. On Sunday, he brought over lasagna made by his mom, which was delicious. On Tuesday, he took Ruth into town to show her around all the new shops and streets, which was informative. And, on Thursday he drove Ruth and Gram out to the county hospital to see a specialist, which was sweet. Now they were meeting mid-morning to run errands together and maybe grab lunch. 

In between bites, Ruth asked, "What took you so long anyway? You're like half an hour late."

Noah leaned back and stretched out; Ruth was immediately aware of how close his legs were to hers. "Dad needed help hauling lumber in for the Hansen's new nursery."

"Wasn't Neil supposed to be working today?"

"Yep." Noah sighed. "But he was missing, again, and since I'm the good twin--" 

"--you stuck around to help on your day off."

Noah nodded and absentmindedly brushed some sawdust off his sleeve. Ruth waited and took a sip of her tea. 

"I wish Dad would say something to him instead of just pretending like everything's fine." Noah was softly clenching and unclenching his jaw. "Neil hasn't been the same since Jack left, and it's not like he's gonna listen to me. He never did."

Noah's face went still and quiet, his blue eyes anchored somewhere in the center of the table. Ruth saw her own face mirrored--the same face she wore when thinking about her mother.

"I worry that one of these days instead of finding him drunk on the side of the road I'll find him..."

"I know." Ruth touched his arm as he closed his eyes. "And Noah, it's not your fault. Trust me."

He laughed once and his eyes flashed open. "I do trust you. It's weird," he leaned in closer, studying her face, "I feel like I've known you my whole life, but it's only been what? A week?"

"Something like that." Ruth grinned.

"Well, c'mon new-best-friend, we've got things to do." Noah rose and flicked his hand in the air. "Mr. Mason, my bread, if you please!"

Ruth watched him as he strolled up to the counter, ignoring frilly-skirt even as she made eyes at him. He looked at ease leaning against the counter, bantering with the baker. Her eyes skimmed over his body while her mind noted the fray marks on his back pocket where he kept his wallet and the fray marks on her heart where she had grown weary of being let down. 

Noah flashed her a spreading smile and she met him at the door. "Mr. Mason gave me an extra baguette for Mrs. Radley." He lowered his voice, "He was there when the incident happened."

Ruth nodded and threw a quick wave of thanks to the baker as they left the shop. Everyone pretty much knew what happened by now since Birchfield was a small town and Gram was fairly popular. She'd already heard the whispers of older women who weren't aware she was nearby. It was always "what a shame," or "it was inevitable really, with her age," or "did she really scream as much as everyone says?" Ruth didn't like to think of her gram like that, but this was her reality now--and the doctors all said it would only get worse. 

The spring sun was warm on her skin and invigorated her steps. Noah cradled the baguette bag in one arm like a baby on his hip while he reached for his phone. Ruth tried to grab the bag away from him, but he swung it out of reach, dancing around her as he answered the phone.

"Hey Dad, what's up?"

Ruth's sneakers slapped against the old sidewalk as she continued her swiping attempts while dodging the occasional pedestrian.

"Uh-huh." Noah twisted again, a faint smile playing across his lips.

Something glinted on the edge of her vision and Ruth stumbled. There, across the road. A man with yellow eyes. 

"Yeah, and I grabbed some bread for Mom."

No, that wasn't right. His eyes weren't yellow, but they were deep brown and looking at her. He was wearing a high-collared black shirt with long sleeves and a vest. His dark hair was slicked back and shined in the sun. When their eyes collided, Ruth felt something click deep within her. Like an out-of-tune piano suddenly fixed. The man seemed to smile before slipping around a building and out of sight. Ruth tapped on Noah's shoulder, but his face was far away.

"Oh. Is he okay?"

Ruth let her hand fall to her side.

"That's good." Noah closed his eyes. "What are you gonna do?"

They slowed to a stop in front of the pet store. 

"I mean, you can't just keep letting him do this to himself."

Noah leaned his head against the worn brick wall. Ruth watched him to keep her eyes from scanning the stores across the street for a glimpse of that man.

"It is serious. I don't know how you keep refusing to see that." Noah's face hardened. "No, of course I want what's best for him. Listen, let's talk about this at home, okay? Yeah, I love you too."

Noah let his phone arm drop and tipped his head farther back against the brick. Ruth gave him a moment before tugging on his sleeve. 

"C'mon. Let's go inside, we can look at lizards."

Still clutching the baguettes, Noah let Ruth hold open the door for him and the pair shuffled inside the old pet shop.

---

Across the street, Abaddon leaned against an alley wall, letting his body slide down until he was sitting, knees pulled up to his chest. She had looked at him.

Really looked at him.

He pulled a notebook from his messenger bag and scrawled out a sketch of her face, making a note to color in her honey eyes back at the cottage. 

A blackbird watched him quizzically from a light post, but he didn't notice--should have noticed. 

The wolf inside churned, whispering sweetly, kill her, maim her, desecrate her.

No. Abaddon struggled to his feet.

Kill her. Maim her. Have her. Possess her.

Not this one. Not Ruth.

KILL. KILL. KILL.

No. 

Abaddon tore himself out of his instincts and back into the world. He was stronger than this.

He was stronger than the wolf.