Amir Rorshchach was the quintessential wolf in sheep’s clothing, in more ways than one. He judiciously rolled the lint removal roller over his exquisite black suit while looking into the full-length mirror. Confirming that he stood safely away and that no part of him could touch the silver-laden mirror, Amir ensured that every inch of his blazer was given the roller’s attention. He set the roller aside a few minutes later and examined his reflection.
The Merino wool suit almost glowed as Amir admired the image he was assessing. He looked like a man in his mid-twenties, in the prime of his life. Amir inherited his olive complexion from his Iranian mother and undoubtedly got his six-foot body from his Swiss father.
He then flexed his arms, testing his strength, and smiled at the result he felt. Yes, he was indeed fortunate in that regard too.
And then, just like that, the view was utterly destroyed.
‘Fuck!’, exclaimed Amir, as he found an annoying speck on his left arm that the roller had missed. It was the size of a needle’s eye.
‘How could I’ve missed that?!’, wondered a perturbed Amir. He quickly picked up the roller again and attacked the offending speck with a vigor that would have made other werewolves proud if the lupines were as insanely vain, of course.
Amir finished his laborious work as soon as he dared and, this time, managed to tear his glance away from the mirror within a dozen seconds.
‘Can’t be late today,’ decided Amir as he sought out the special perfume bottle. It did say Hugo Boss on the outside though it was anything but. Amir sprayed himself religiously. He would be going out in public tonight. The precautions had to be followed.
The particular scent, LZ-1, would mask most of his werewolf indicators, at least those that worked on the olfactory senses. He took a deep breath and LZ-1 seemed to be working. The strongest note Amir could find was the lavender in the perfume. His own lupine odor remained muted.
Suddenly, a potent pang drove itself through Amir’s gut. He jerked his head around and sought out the pill.
‘Where the hell is it-’, questioned a panicked Amir, ‘- ah! Found you!’.
He rushed to the desk and grabbed the red pill. As usual, before he gobbled the damn thing, Amir wrinkled his nose at it. Holding his breath, he swallowed the pill rapidly before he could overthink it.
‘Tastes foul’, swore Amir, as he typically did, even though the tablet was tasteless.
Amir hastily took the pill bottle off the desk and removed ten pills from it, which then found their way into a small Zip-lock bag in his inside jacket pocket. Ten pills were good enough for ten days, and Amir ought to be back within six to eight hours, but then, Amir Rorshchach was as cautious as he was compulsive.
Within a few minutes, the hunger had vanished, and Amir was once again confident as he glanced around his room. The bed was made, the pillows were placed correctly, the duvet was just right, the mirror was angled precisely, the cosmetics and perfumes were appropriately arranged, and the temperature control was set accurately. Amir knew he had to leave but he couldn’t help himself. For the third time today, he picked up the Lupometer device. He had the test strip ready. He pricked his finger and stifled the sound that he was about to make. Amir then used the test strip to collect his blood and placed the strip into the Lupometer. He held his breath as the machine processed the information.
A few seconds later, the machine’s display showed ‘Energomen count = 3089’. Amir struggled not to leap with euphoria. He had seen the same general result for over a fortnight now, but he rejoiced every time he saw the evidence.
‘Level Three’, Amir thought, ‘after all these years. I’ve done it.’
Amir reluctantly placed the Lupometer on the table and applied a bit of sanitizer to his hands. He could now think of nothing to stop himself from getting out. Finally, he left his room and found Felicia waiting on the couch. Amir checked his Rolex. It was six forty-three in the evening. She would have been waiting for him for at least ten minutes. ‘Less than usual’, surmised Amir, but spared a glance at his wife just the same. Big mistake!
Amir gulped despite himself. His peripheral vision noted that Felicia didn’t look angry, but he couldn’t stop looking at her. On the lilac-colored velvet couch, Felicia was stunning. The knee-length black satin dress made her pearly white legs stand out while it hugged her curves in all the right areas. Amir’s eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved up to consume the sight of Felicia’s voluptuous torso before they reached her eyes just as they began to roll.
“Got to hand it to you, ‘Wifey’! You delay us and presume to use desire to mollify me.”, drawled Felicia in a mock-scornful voice.
‘Wifey’ meant that she was mildly irritated but not angry. Amir guessed that it was a combination of his shorter delay, the grand occasion, and his sincere display of lust for her that might have negated any potential ire she could have had. She was using sarcasm. Amir was familiar enough with her behavior to gauge the optimal response. He was going to be the man of the house.
“I… I’m sorry, Fel. I couldn’t help it”, intoned Amir apologetically, “You look st-”.
Before he could complete his compliment, Felicia stood up and with a dismissive wave of her hand, said, “Of course, you couldn’t help it, Mirrors. You could give Narcissus a run for his money on a normal day. And today, I’m surprised you managed to get out of the bedroom. How’s your mistress anyway?”
Her nonchalance and reversal of his apology for his lust to an apology for his delay threw Amir off. “My mistr… wait, what?”, blustered Amir.
This time Felicia chose to use a mischievous grin instead of an eye roll. “Y’know, mistress, side-chick, or whatever it is that they’re calling them these days. Well, you spend more time with a mirror than any woman I know. So, the mirror has to be your mistress. Catch up, Mirrors.”
She emphasized her point with a playful tap on his forehead before dropping her hand to grab his left wrist and pull her husband.
“Now, enough loitering. Let’s dash”, commanded Felicia in her official voice.
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Amir followed his wife as they left their apartment door. As he locked the door and entered the security code, he realized that in his hurry, he had forgotten to check the living room to make sure everything was kosher. Felicia had that effect on him. Even after five years of marriage, he wasn’t immune to her powers of unsettling him. He had to get his man-card back.
Turning to face his wife, Amir effected a scowl and posited, “Hey! We aren’t that late tonight, Fel, and I don’t take that long to get ready”.
Even as he said it, he knew how weak his protests were, but Felicia had the compassion to laugh while she dragged her husband along to the elevator.
“Please, Mirrors! We both know why I call you that.”, giggled Felicia as they caught the open elevator.
Amir knew why, but he valiantly played along, “Yeah, yeah! It’s a play on my name, Amir Rorshchach. Last three letters of my first name and the first four letters of my last name.”
Felicia’s delightful laughter echoed across the enclosed walls of the elevator as they moved to the basement parking lot. “Yes, Mirrors. You keep telling yourself that, and one of these days, even you might believe it. Stay hopeful, sweetie.”
It was hopeless, and Amir knew it. He had tried to get his wife to stop using that name six years ago when she conjured it for the first time. But now, Amir was used to it and even liked her affectionate way of using it. He was smitten with her, and she was well aware that around her, he was a helpless squirrel whose nuts were in her hands!
Amir sighed and smiled as the elevator doors opened, and Felicia took charge again and led her husband out. “Hurry, Amir. Those salads won’t eat themselves, after all. Chop-chop!”
‘She never tires of teasing me’, thought Amir as he dutifully hurried across the parking garage. It was well-lit, and there were only a few vehicles about. He saw his chauffeur standing next to his hulking security guard in the distance. Amir inadvertently glanced at all the CCTV cameras laid out in the garage. The red lights on them all gave Amir a sense of security.
Felicia, on the other hand, couldn’t be bothered. She led her husband with a purpose. Her gorgeous good looks could easily be mistaken for sheer femininity, but Amir knew the truth. Half a dozen armed guards patrolled their building, and an equal number were on call, watching the area through the CCTV cameras. The Chief of Security was waiting next to their Merc with the chauffeur, and yet, if Amir had to place a bet, he would put his entire fortune on Felicia winning a fight: all 3 billion dollars of it.
When they were twenty feet from their car, a woman got out of the Nissan Sentra parked two spaces away. Amir froze, and Felicia stopped along with her husband. The woman was not alone. As she closed her car door, Amir saw that a nasty beast had accompanied her.
The woman who called herself Amelia began walking towards the Rorshchachs. Her pet dog was on a leash beside her. The beast was a cross between a Maltese and a poodle. Amir didn’t move a muscle. He hated the creature, but nothing could be done about it now. As Amelia reached them, she nodded and smiled. Felicia did the same, and after the dog and its owner passed them by, Amir let go of the breath he was holding.
“It worked,” exclaimed Amir excitedly, “we can make a fortune with LZ-1. All the clans are going to want a whiff of the stuff.”
“Easy, Midas!”, guffawed Felicia, “Let’s just get you through tonight first.”
Without further hassles, the Rorshchachs entered their car and began their southbound journey. They were comfortable in the back seat while their guard, William, sat in the front with their chauffeur, Thomas. In twenty minutes, they had left Richmond and were on the I-95, heading towards Chester. Felicia got off her phone and turned to Amir.
“You’re lucky. The guests are still on their way. We’re on time.”
“I did tell you, Fel. At most, we would be fashionably late”, gloated Amir.
“Don’t you start now, Mirrors…”, warned Felicia.
Amir smirked but wisely kept quiet. He took out his phone and checked the evening reports. The day had closed well. Everything looked great, and Amir found himself in an uplifted mood. He had worked years for this, and tonight he would get his rewards. He even had his speech ready.
Soon, they were racing past the Virginian suburbs and across the many empty fields, and Amir noticed it was a new moon night. Despite being a silly superstition, Amir couldn’t help thinking it was a good omen. Things were looking good, and though he disliked parties and large gatherings, he would make an exception tonight and do so happily. This would be a night to remember.
As if on cue, Thomas got off the I-95 just before they reached Colonial Heights. The area was pleasantly remote. Ranches and fields were interspersed between residential communities here. They soon found themselves in Crescent Park, their destination.
It was a quiet little private residential community, and as the Rorschachs passed through the security gate, they noticed all the vehicles parked alongside the houses. To an outsider, things wouldn’t look too strange. Most of the cars parked along the kerb were mid-luxury cars like Audis, BMWs, Lincolns, Lexus, Jaguars, etc. It didn’t seem too out of place in this neighborhood. They drove past large multi-family homes that spoke of reasonable affluence. Yes, the façade would fool most ordinary people.
'If they knew the truth…’, Amir thought involuntarily and suppressed a shudder.
Just then, Felicia’s hand found its way to his left hand. It was her commiserating and comforting gesture. Amir saw another reason to be grateful,
‘God, I love this woman’, he swore, but outwardly, he smiled and silently mouthed a ‘thank you,’ which his wife accepted with a nod and then pointed outside. They had arrived.
A stately Victorian house greeted them as they stepped out of the car. Security guards were everywhere, and try as they might, they couldn’t appear inconspicuous. The effect was more pronounced because the black-suited guards contrasted the dozens of people milling around in their party wear.
Amir took a long breath and found strong notes of amber, pine, jasmine, wine, tea rose, and a host of other smells pervading the ambiance. But he immediately regretted his deep inhaling because of the vicious stench that had now seized him: the smell of meat. It was overpowering his senses and threatened to make him hurl. Felicia rushed to his side and took his arm.
She touched his face as she took his arm, a harmless gesture to anybody watching. In reality, she was placing her wrist near his nose. Her floral scent brought Amir to his senses. He could breathe normally now. He took out his handkerchief and pretended to wipe his nose while carefully applying the gel on the cloth to the inside of his nostrils.
Amir plastered a practiced smile on his countenance as he noted many pairs of eyes looking at him. A security guard, who surprisingly reeked of clove and musk, came up to him. His nameplate read Fritz.
‘How quaint’, thought Amir, as the man managed a nod.
“Mr. and Mrs. Rorshchach, welcome! Please follow me.”, requested Fritz.
The Rorshchachs walked down the entrance path. It was paved with concrete. People stood on the lawn on either side of the track, and while some of them were engrossed in conversations, a few did notice them and greeted them with various degrees of smiles.
Soon, Amir and Felicia reached the mansion's entrance, and as Amir placed his right foot on the welcome step, he realized that tonight he would become the first vegan werewolf to become anointed as a Pack Lord!