Sharpest Tooth

Little girls, this seems to say,

Never stop upon your way,

Never trust a stranger-friend;

No one knows how it will end.

As you're pretty so be wise;

Wolves may lurk in every guise.

Handsome they may be, and kind,

Gay, and charming- never mind!

Now, as then, 'tis simple truth-

Sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth!

-Charles Perrault

Chapter One

My throat was dry, painfully dry, when I awoke the morning of my eighteenth birthday. I sat up with a groan. My muscles were aching, it felt like I'd pinched a nerve in my back, my gums were sore, swollen, and the metallic taste in my mouth told me that they were bleeding. I mumbled a curse and wiped the cold sweat from my forehead. Yeah, I'd definitely transformed a bit during the night, not fully though. My clothes were still in tact. My blanket though bore several rips and holes. This happened occasionally, especially when I had nightmares.

A fist pounded at the door. "Get up! We're leaving in ten minutes!" My dad half growled.

"I'm up!" I yelled back through the door and threw the blanket off my legs. With quivering limbs I quickly dressed. There was no point to a shower this morning, not with today's to do list. I pulled on some loose jeans and left on the undershirt I'd slept in. I started to grab some sandals, but remembered it would be pointless. As I threw them back into the closet of no return, I noticed the picture sitting, half buried in a pile of clean laundry, on my dresser. A beautiful girl with moss green eyes and a bruised face smiled back at me, a moss eyed toddler hugged tightly in her arms. With shaking hands I lifted it from the dresser. I looked at it, studying it, trying to remember when I'd touched it last. Months maybe? The woman's familiar eyes glared back at me, accusing me, even while a seemingly happy smile stretched her lips. She looked like such a proud, happy mom, but the purple and blue colors marring her cheek was a testament to what was really going on at home. I grit my teeth at it, knowing she wouldn't be proud of what the little boy in her arms had grown up to be, a monster…just like his father. I can't help it, mom. I can't fight nature. I can't be something that I'm not. You knew what I was when you gave birth to me. You knew what the human skin hides. "Don't look at me like that." I whispered bitterly.

The door opened and I quickly tossed the picture frame onto the clothes pile. My dad, a large, powerful man with thick chestnut hair and two weeks worth of beard loomed in the doorway. I watched his ice colored eyes shift from the frame to me. He stiffened slightly, but chose to ignore the chill that always seemed to grip him when he looked at the single photo of my mom. "Come on, Eli. The others are already waiting for us down at the park."

Knowing better by now not to question him, I quickly did as I was told. We went out of the cabin and climbed into his red pick up. It was an old model, covered in more rust than actual paint. The floorboards were covered in dried mud, cigarette cartons and beer cans. My dad's not really concerned about getting pulled over. Our entire family lived on a sort of compound in the higher elevations of the Smokey Mountain Range, out in the middle of forest, far away from the tourist traps. Not even cops came up there, and most of them weren't brave enough to call my dad on anything. He'd never been in trouble with the law, but he had the air of someone who wasn't to be messed with. All of us, Roans are like that. Sometimes I wonder if I'll be that way myself when I'm older…or after today.

My dad turned off the radio with his meaty fingers. The upbeat bluegrass music died away to silence. "Remember the rules. Catch and kill. This is a practice run. You won't be keeping this one." He said as he drained the rest of his morning beer.

"Will you or the others be helping me at all?" I asked, trying to ignore the horror I felt at the sense of anticipation that was welling up in me.

"That would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it. You're eighteen as of today. That means it's time for you step up and face what it means to be a Roan man, to be a Turnskin. Today you'll get your first solo kill and hone the hunting skills you'll need when it's time for you to take your first Red. You'll be on your own, this time around, Pup."

I suppressed the urge to sigh at my embarrassing nickname. I really hoped that he would stop calling me "Pup" once I'd made my first solo kill and became a full fledged man.

Dad threw his empty beer bottle into the back seat's floorboards and took a fresh cigarette from the pack he had stashed in the dashboard. "I saw you looking at Trish's picture." He said. His voice sounded calm, but his eagerness as he sucked on the cancer stick gave away the tension he was secretly feeling. "Something on your mind?" He asked, blowing out a billow of smoke.

"I…I'm just nervous, I guess…about taking a Red." I replied, half lying, half telling the truth. I wasn't nervous. I was excited and I was ashamed of that.

"Let me guess, you don't want to hurt anybody. Right?" He started to laugh, but it died mid throat.

I didn't answer. I didn't need to. My dad knew how I was.

"Look, this isn't exactly the life I would have planned for myself either, but it can't be helped. We're not human, Eli. We're Turnskins. We don't get to play nice. We don't get happily ever afters. Reading enough of those Grimm tales should tell you that much. We're more wolf than man, and as such we have to live like wolves. We can't forget what we are. The bloodlust won't allow it." He took another long drag of his cigarette. "No matter how hard you try to tame it, the wolf's always there in the back of your mind, snapping at the bars of his cage. He will get out. It's just a matter of time." His eyes cut across at me. He'd driven this dirt road so many times, the truck seemed to know what to do without him having to watch the road. "I should know."

"Dad…why did you keep mom for so long?" That question was always on my mind. Today seemed like the best day to ask it. "Turnskins don't usually keep Reds for longer than necessary, but you kept mom around for five years. Why?"

He let out a long sigh. I could almost hear a wolf's whine beneath it. "Not today, Eli. You need to focus on your hunt." He said, once again avoiding any topic that was connected to my mom. We pulled into the gravel parking lot for the Great Smokey Mountains National Park and swung into a space beside my half-brothers' jeep and my uncle's SUV. Boaz and Trevor talked amongst themselves as my uncle Carl and his son, Wyatt pretended to be reading a brochure.

"You ready to become a man, lil' Pup?" Boaz snickered as my dad and I got out of the truck, his voice thick with a southern drawl.

"Looks like it." Trevor laughed, gesturing towards my feet. "Boy don't even have shoes on. You think that you're gonna be spending all your time in wolf form?"

"Jesus, Pup. How are you gonna lure a girl, looking like a bum." Boaz chuckled, rich and deep. I noticed a couple of teen girls glance his way, lured to him by the sexy sound of his voice.

"Dad, couldn't you have taught the boy how to dress?" Asked Trevor, leaning nonchalantly against my shoulder and ruffling my brown hair.

"Sorry. Wasn't paying attention." He said absently, watching as a twenty something girl sashayed by, arm in arm with her boyfriend. Her hair was blond, like my mom's.

"Stop giving him a hard time, boys." Carl scolded his two eldest nephews, discreetly grabbing them by the back of the neck and shoving them slightly. "You aught to remember your blooding. You had no sense between the two of you."

"Yes, sir." Trevor and Boaz replied in unison, neither brave enough to second guess the older male. My dad was the biggest out of the two patriarchs, but it was Carl who was leader of our pack. He was the most experienced and most successful hunter. With his thick black hair, fine features, and ocher eyes, he was more adept at tempting the Reds, young human girls. My dad was not so alluring, and therefore had to rely on his brute strength. In a pack of Turnskins, it was sex appeal that mattered, not physical strength. It was true that the alpha only had one son, but he'd taken more girls than he could count.

"Wyatt, get Eli my spare hiking boots out of the trunk." Carl ordered his son. The boy eagerly bounded to the back of their Expedition and retrieved the weathered boots for me. I could tell by the brightness of his eyes and the flush of his cheeks that he was excited to be allowed to take part in this ritual, even if he wasn't going to be hunting himself. He liked it when the others included him as an equal member and not just a pup. Hell, I'm sure that I would have acted the same way, if I wasn't able to remember my mom like him and my brothers. Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

Wyatt was only twelve then, but he had a lot of potential to be a good hunter like his dad. He was gifted in the looks department, a little mirror image of his dad, except that one of his eyes was blue. He was a nice kid…but I knew that the wolf was already stirring in him. We were seeing glimpses of it in him more and more with every group hunt. Eventually, probably by his next birthday, he'd be able to fully shed the human skin. And just six years from now, he'd kill a girl all by himself.

I strapped on the old boots. They were a size or two too big, but they'd do until I was ready to transform. Once I was somewhat presentable, the whole pack headed into the greeting center. It was a good sized building, made to look like a cabin. Inside, the walls were lined with wooden paneling. There was some furniture built of carved logs and shelves upon shelves laden down with cheaply made, yet highly priced, nick knacks and other junk that tourists can't seem to resist, like Indian head dresses and dream catchers, bags of brightly colored rocks. It was late autumn. Most of the leaf watchers had gone home since most of the leaves had become an unappealing shade of dead. There was still quite a few tourists trolling about the welcome center, browsing through the souvenirs. Parents were scouring the brochure rack, looking for a cheap activity they could bribe their kids into participating in for some good old family bonding. The younger kids screamed and ran through the isles of shelves, chasing each other with plastic tomahawks, while the teens listened to music on their iPods and typed away at their phones.

"Ain't she ripe for the picking?" Boaz sneered under his breath, his blue eyes locked on a particularly well endowed teenager.

"There's quite a few ripe ones in town today." Trevor agreed with his twin, as he scanned the room, noting each and every Red in sight.

"Heel, boys." Dad grumbled in a whisper. "This is Eli's blooding, remember?"

The twins sighed in exasperation, but offered up brotherly advice. "See one you like, baby brother?" Asked Trevor.

"I particularly have a taste for the busty ones." Boaz breathed in my ear. I watched him out the corner of my eye. Boaz was smiling, his teeth already beginning to grow sharper and longer.

I looked around the room, from face to face, from victim to victim. Each girl went about their lives, unaware that a group of wolves were in their midst, sizing them up, looking for potential prey. Who's life was I about to destroy?

A blur of color coming through the door, caught my attention. Red. Beautiful, vibrant, crimson red, the color of a candied apple. My eyes had automatically zeroed in on the color alone, bathing my field of vision in red. I blinked my eyes, forcing them to focus on the form wearing it. It was a young girl, probably in her mid to late teens. She was wearing a red jacket. Long black hair spilled around her shoulders. It looked like it was probably died that color. Near the crown of her head, I could see a faint change. Her roots were a slightly reddish hue.

"God have mercy on me." Boaz groaned at my ear. "Little Red Riding Hood's come to town." He grinned lopsidedly, flashing me wolf teeth. "If you don't want her, I call dibs."

Trevor wined quietly and bit his thumb to keep from hurling cat calls at the girl.

I couldn't blame my brothers from getting excited. There's something about the color red that makes us go crazy. Even the elder males were shifting restlessly behind me, resisting the urge to transform and gobble her up. I suppose it's because it's the color of blood and sex. Both are what makes Turnskins tick. Either way, it urges us on, attracts us, makes it impossible to ignore the Reds who dare wear the Big Bad Wolf's favorite color.

I could feel the attraction as well. My heart was pounding, my muscles tightening with anticipation, ready and eager to transform, to chase her, to taste her blood.

My brain was screaming at me. I knew it was wrong. I remembered. Unlike the others, I remember my mom, what was done to her, how she died. I remembered her fear, the despair that she felt, being the captive bride of a monster. I didn't want to become the thing that destroyed my mother, but I couldn't fight it. I was my father's son. I was a Turnskin. My body, the wolf inside of me, was focused on the Red. It was screaming even louder than my conscious. Lure. Hunt. Kill. Devour.

Animals can't resist what they are bred to do. It's in our nature.

"She's mine." I breathed, only half lucid. The red jacket was calling me towards it's defenseless wearer. The wolf was licking his chops within his mental cage. He could practically taste the girl's flesh already.

I slapped on a charming smile and walked up beside the Red as she was admiring dream catchers. "Hi." I greeted her, trying to sound nice, and not in the least like a creepy stalker. I found it difficult to keep the wolf's gravely growl out of my voice, being so close to this girl dressed in Turnskin-nip.

"Hi." She greeted half-heartedly, with a suspicious look on her face. She had delicate facial features with a slender nose and lips that were slightly fuller on the top. She had pretty mint green eyes, that made me pause my breathing when they fell on my skin. "Can I help you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"S-sorry, I don't usually do this kind of thing." I laughed shyly and rubbed at the back of my neck. "I-I like your jacket." I blurted, pointing at the garment.

"Thanks…I guess." She smiled, but rolled her eyes as she turned away, like she thought I was crazy. She started to walk back towards the door, but I stepped up the pace so I could catch up to her. "Wait, are you from out of town?" I asked.

"No." She shook her head. "I just moved into the area, thought I'd look around a bit. I heard it's a big tourist destination."

"Would you like a tour guide?" I asked. "I hike up here all the time. I could show you the best views, tell you where you can get some decent grub, protect you from…bears?" I suggested, grabbing at straws. I could hear the twins trying their hardest to stifle laughs and failing miserably.

She smirked at me, her eyes considering every feature she could see. "I don't really need protection. I can take care of myself. Thanks though."

"Look…I live out here in the middle of nowhere. I don't get to meet cute girls very often." I try a final time to lure her into the snare. I could see that she was still resistant, so I motioned towards the pack who were trying to hide in the back of the store. "Come on, it'll save me from having to hike all day with that lot. Be merciful." I smiled brightly, hoping that my teeth hadn't sharpened.

She paused as she considered her options. Finally she relented. "Fine." She sighed. "But I can't be gone long. My grandma will kill me if I'm out after dark."

"I'll have you back here safe and sound well before that." I promised her. "Wait right her while I tell my family where I'm going."

"Sure." She said and preoccupied herself with the shiny painted rocks.

I jogged back to the pack. The twins gave me two thumbs up.

"Keep her engaged with small talk. Don't transform too soon. Lead her off the main path. Make sure that you're alone and are far away from other hikers. You don't want anyone coming to her rescue." Said Carl.

"Got it." I nodded with a big grin, feeling proud of my manipulation skills.

"When you chase her, coral her away from the hiking paths. Push her deeper into the woods. You'll have the advantage there." Said Dad.

"Okay." I sigh, much too eager to get the hunt underway. The red was messing with my head, making it very hard to think about anything else but the girl.

"Be careful." My dad added. " Reds might be weaker, but when you're crazed by the hunt, they're smarter. We win more often than not, but there are exceptions."

"Alright dad, I've got it. Don't worry." I huffed and rushed back over to the girl. I really should have listened to my dad's warning a little more closely, but the wolf is an impatient fellow. Once he sets his eyes on something he wants to eat, he's impossible to stop.