Phlebotomous walked into the garden and looked at the spot where the wolfsbane had been. He saw that it all been picked. He was wondering if there was enough to prevent du Bois turning into a werewolf, when Patience arrived.
“Hello Mr Bosch,” she said. “How are you this night?”
“Very well, er, Patience,” he said. “Isn’t a little late for you to be out?”
“Oh I’m a big girl,” said Patience. “Besides, it was you who wanted to meet by moonlight. Very romantic, B.”
“Excuse me?” said Phlebotomous.
“Excuse me, too,” said Joy, coming to join them. “What are you doing here, Patience? Are you trying to ruin my rendezvous like you ruin everything else?”
“Me!” said Patience. “What are you doing here? I was invited. I had a note.”
“Well I had one too!” said Joy.
“Really? Then show me,” said Patience. Joy’s face fell, further than usual.
“I … I can’t,” she said, “I lost the note.”
Patience looked triumphant when Prudence arrived.
“Why don’t you show us your note, Patience?” she said. “Or don’t you have it either.”
“Prudence, you too?” said Joy.
“The note was mine first, you stole it, I’m sure. It was on the seat when you all left,” said Prudence.
“Ladies,” said Phlebotomous, “I’m sure there’s been some simple mix up.”
“I don’t have it either!” shouted Patience. “It was stolen from me.”
“Do you mean this note?” said Constance, joining the quartet and brandishing a piece of paper.
“You stole it!” said Patience.
“I didn’t steal it, it was given to me,” said Constance.
“You stole it from me,” said Joy to Patience.
“No, you did from me,” said Prudence.
There was a quiet moment where the girls all glared at each other.
“Ladies…” started Phlebotomous.
“It’s obvious Mr Bosch would prefer me because I’m the most sophisticated,” said Patience. Constance made a snorting noise.
“If staring out of the window is sophistication then you may be right, but I think sophistication comes from knowledge, and that comes from reading,” she said.
“But what you read is immoral fantasy,” said Joy. “At least I read something about the ethics of proper conduct, as befitting to Mr Bosch.”
“Mr Bosch is a sensitive soul who needs an artistic companion,” said Prudence. “Besides you are all ugly hags.”
The other sisters gasped at Prudence.
“Ladies, please …” started Phlebotomous.
“Please, Mr Bosch, let me defend you from these slurs on your character,” said Constance.
“Slurs! I’ll show you slurs,” growled Joy.
“Are you threatening me?” snarled Constance.
“You are both, tedious bookworms,” barked Patience.
“Shut up!” snapped Prudence.
“Ow-oooh!” said Patience. Phlebotomous looked at her. Her nose had started to extend and hair was growing over her face. She fell to her hands and knees and her arms shortened and thickened. A long tail came from her back. Her mutation complete, she stood nearly to Phlebotomous’ chest. Her breathing was low and heavy.
“Girls!” said Phlebotomous to the other three. “I think you sister’s a werewolf.”
He heard no reply, so he turned to look at them. Three more wolves looked back at him. At his feet he saw the patch where the wolfsbane had been, now removed.
“Who’s a good girl?” he said hesitantly to the quartet of werewolves.
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