The Anxiety of Kalix the Werewolf. Martin Millar

white, with the band’s figures outlined in black. Kalix was very happy with the T-shirt.

      “Everybody ready?” asked Moonglow.

      “Wait!” cried Kalix. “I forgot my keys.” Kalix hurried back up the stairs.

      “I forgot my keys too,” said Daniel. He headed back toward his room.

      “Did I forget anything?” asked Vex.

      “I don’t know,” replied Moonglow. “Did you?”

      “I better check,” said Vex, and rushed upstairs.

      Moonglow was left on her own in the living room. Kalix was the first to reappear.

      “I got my keys.” She paused. “But I forgot my money.”

      Kalix bounded back up the stairs. Moonglow pursed her lips. It could be a difficult task getting everyone out of the house.

      Daniel appeared. “Got my keys,” he said.

      “Did you bring your wallet?”

      Daniel felt in his pockets. “I’ll be right back,” he said, and hurried off.

      How did I become everyone’s mother? thought Moonglow. I’m too young to be in charge of three idiots.

      Beauty and Delicious were surprised at how easily Dominil had been persuaded to attend Kalix’s birthday party. They’d assumed she’d refuse and had been preparing to assail her with a long string of reasons as to why she should attend. Kalix was a fellow werewolf, she was Dominil’s cousin, and she had on one occasion saved Dominil’s life. Besides, as Beauty pointed out, Dominil lived the most boring life imaginable, visiting art galleries and translating Latin poetry. It would do her good to let her hair down.

      “Although her hair is pretty much straight down already,” said Delicious.

      “True. But it is a bit weird, being so white. She should let us dye it.”

      Beauty’s hair was bright pink and Delicious’s a vivid blue. The twins devoted a lot of time and energy to hair maintenance. It was worth the effort. Even in Camden, where brightly colored coiffures were common, the magnificence of the sisters’ brightly colored tresses could still attract attention as they sauntered down the pavement. Their visits to a salon in Knightsbridge were expensive, but they could afford it. Their parents had died in an accident, making Beauty and Delicious wealthy at a young age. They’d wasted no time in decamping to London to engage in a riotous lifestyle. The rest of the clan didn’t approve, but Beauty and Delicious didn’t care what the rest of the clan thought.

      “So why is Dominil coming to Kalix’s party?”

      It was puzzling. Even though Dominil had been acting as manager of the twins’ band, she’d resolutely refused to join in with their lifestyle. Dominil would never visit pubs or clubs. But now she’d agreed to travel south of the river to Kalix’s birthday party, and she hadn’t even complained about it.

      “Dominil likes Kalix, I suppose,” said Delicious. “More than us, anyway.”

      “True. Though I wouldn’t have thought she liked her enough to put up with a lot of drunken werewolves.”

      “What drunken werewolves?”

      “Us. Dominil has this weird thing about not liking drunken werewolves. It’s a flaw in her character.”

      “Maybe she’s looking for a man?”

      The twins roared with laughter. The twins amused themselves with the continual fantasy that Dominil was desperate to find a boyfriend. There was no reason to believe this was true, though Dominil had been known to engage with the opposite sex. She’d once spent the night with Pete, their guitarist. Dominil had initiated this, and ended the relationship immediately afterward. Pete had never gotten over it. He still longed for Dominil, though she’d shown no interest in continuing the relationship.

      The phone in the living room rang.

      “I’m outside,” said Dominil.

      The twins rushed out to Dominil’s car, clutching their bags. It was mid-afternoon and they were due to meet the others at the Odeon Cinema in Marble Arch. The twins weren’t particularly keen on the Runaways, but they were willing to watch any film about a rock band.

      “I hope there’s lots of drugs and stuff,” said Beauty. “And alcohol.”

      “And sex,” said Delicious. “At the same time. Hi, Dominil, looking forward to the movie?”

      “Not really,” said Dominil, and pulled carefully away from the curb.

      “Is there any chance you could not drive like a nervous eighty-year-old?” asked Beauty as Dominil carefully negotiated the turn into the main road in Camden. Her cautious driving was another target of the twins’ mockery.

      “Did the Mistress of the Werewolves call you?” said Delicious.

      “Yes,” replied Dominil. “Why do you ask?”

      “We wondered if she nagged you into going to the party, to check up on Kalix.”

      Dominil halted at a traffic light at Mornington Crescent. She turned to stare at Delicious.

      “I assume that you called the Mistress of the Werewolves yourself, to ask her to pressurize me into attending?”

      “We may have,” said Delicious.

      Dominil scowled. The twins knew that Verasa MacRinnalch, Kalix’s mother, held Dominil in high regard. They also knew that Verasa worried about her errant daughter, far away in London. Asking her to persuade Dominil to attend the party had been their idea of a cunning plan.

      “There was no need,” said Dominil. “I had already accepted the invitation.”

      “But why? You’re so antisocial. Beauty, isn’t Dominil antisocial?”

      “The most antisocial werewolf in the clan,” agreed Beauty. “I think she holds some sort of record.”

      Dominil’s lips compressed slightly, but she didn’t engage with the twins. It would be a waste of time. When Beauty and Delicious were excited, as they were now, there was no way of preventing them from talking nonsense. Since taking on the task of managing their band, Dominil had learned to ignore it. She followed the one-way system through Camden before taking the main road toward Oxford Street, bringing them to a large underground car park close to the cinema.

      “Wouldn’t it be funny if the car broke down?” said Delicious as they emerged into the street above.

      “Why would it be funny?” asked Dominil.

      “Because we’re all going to turn into werewolves in a few hours, of course. We’d be werewolves in the middle of town. Owwooo!”

      “It would not be funny at all,” said Dominil sternly. “And the car won’t break down. I had it serviced recently.”

      “Owwooo!” Beauty joined in with her sister, imagining themselves already to be werewolves. Passersby looked at the girls and smiled. It was odd behavior, howling in the street for no apparent reason, but given the brightness of the sisters’ hair and clothes, it didn’t seem out of character. Students, they imagined. Or perhaps some sort of alternative models, with their pink, blue and snow-white hair.

      “Kalix and her friends are in the foyer,” said Dominil. “Now stop howling and start behaving. I’m expecting this film to be tedious enough without having to listen to you making fools of yourselves all the way through.”

CHAPTER 9

      Sarapen MacRinnalch stood on the roof of the great palace, gazing at the lava that poured down the eastern slopes of the Eternal Volcano.