Blood Lust (5 page)

I swung my legs down onto the floor and tentatively allowed
them to bear some of my weight. Both legs felt fine. I stood up, bewildered,
and turned to look for my phone in the folds of my blankets. Maybe I’d only
imagined I’d been asleep for a day. If my wounds were healed already, I might
have been asleep for several days.

A glance at the calendar on my cell phone disproved that
theory, however. I’d been asleep for somewhere around fourteen hours. My
stomach grumbled at me. Clearly it hadn’t enjoyed the extended nap nearly as
much as I had.

I dropped the phone back on my bed and picked up the empty
pitcher before shuffling to the door. It was cracked open, presumably so Gram
could look in on me. I pulled it open further and slipped through. My leg was a
little stiff, my head was heavy and my mind was still a bit fuzzy, but
otherwise I felt pretty good. I made a mental note to thank Max for whatever
wonder drug he had slipped me. I’d assumed I would be stuck in bed for at least
a day or two while my bite wounds were healing, but at this rate I could
probably go back to work tomorrow and make up for my lost hours this morning.

I made my way to the staircase at the other end of the loft,
and descended, trying to be as quiet as I could. The light above the stove was
on, so I didn’t bother turning on the overhead lights. I pressed the top of the
pitcher into the fridge’s water dispenser, and watched the water swirl at the
bottom of the glass container.

My mouth was dry and I felt like I was dying of thirst, but
for some reason the water didn’t look very appealing. I frowned and stared at
the pitcher’s contents, trying to figure out what was off about it. I could see
nothing unusual.

A stabbing cramp ripped through my abdomen, and I gasped and
stumbled backwards. I nearly fumbled the pitcher, but managed to catch it with
my other hand and shove it haphazardly onto the counter as I fell to my knees.
Water sloshed over the edge and hit the counter with a wet slap
.
I clutched my hands to my stomach and
doubled over as another cramp zig-zagged through my belly.

Was I having an allergic reaction to the medication? I
didn’t know. I was so unbelievably thirsty. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed
the pitcher, tilting it to my lips and gulping down as much water as I could
manage. It spilled down my shirtfront, soaking my chest. But the water did
nothing to quench my thirst or stop the pain.

My hands shook as I pushed the pitcher back onto the
counter. I had to get to Gram. Something was very wrong.

I clambered to my feet and ran out of the kitchen, stumbling
as I headed for the stairs leading to the bottom level. I tried to call her
name, but my voice came out in a hoarse whisper. My thirst was growing, and I
nearly yelped at another stab of pain, this one higher up, almost in my chest.
I couldn’t even begin to comprehend what was happening. My ankle turned as I
was reaching for the banister, and I fell to my knees again, my hand slapping
against the handrail, my nails digging into the wood roughly for purchase.

I stared at my hand in shock. The faint light must have been
playing tricks on me- or maybe I was so dehydrated that I was hallucinating.

My fingernails were long and dagger-like, gouging into the
wooden handrail in the same effortless way that a knife sliced through cheese.
I pulled my hand back, removing my claws from the wood, and saw with renewed terror
that they were
still growing.

As I crawled toward the stairs, a scent assaulted my nose,
washing over me like a wave of warm water, tempting me like nothing else ever
had before. It was food. It was water. It was sustenance. The kind of
sustenance that would finally quench my intense thirst.

Despite myself, I pulled back from the staircase, trying to
figure out what was going on. Why would there be food downstairs? There was
nothing down there but the master suite and the guest room. Gram didn’t leave
food lying around. “Not in a log cabin, dear,” she’d told me when I’d left a
bag of chips open on the counter, “and definitely not in rural South Dakota.”

With that memory came a flash of clarity, and I had a sudden
mental image of Gram lying peacefully in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin.
My mouth watered, and I recoiled in disgust. The thirst was almost overpowering
now, and I realized that the scent I was picking up was…Gram.

I could smell her humanity, the same way a dog could.

Or a wolf.

Bile rose in my throat, and I stood up, clapping a hand over
my mouth and nose as I ran for the front door. I left the door open as I tore
out of the house, trying to get as far away from the smell as possible.

I was sick on the grass beside the driveway, and coughed
wretchedly when I was done, trying not to cry. I had no idea what was going on,
but I was scared out of my mind. After I spat a couple times, I sat back on my
heels and took a deep breath, trying to clear my head.

A new smell assaulted my senses. The horses. I could not
only smell them- I could also hear the occasional hoof stomp, the odd tail
swishing in annoyance at a persistent mosquito.

Their heartbeats were louder than Gram’s had been, and so
much more enticing.

“No, no, no,” I moaned, burying my hands in my hair and
shaking my head. “This is not happening.
 
This is not happening!”

But my thirst grew ever more insistent. I ran toward the
woods, desperate to escape the cravings, unmindful of my bare feet. I ran
through the pain, the wind tearing the breath from my lips, until my legs
buckled under me and I went skidding in a shower of grass and leaves.

When I rolled over and looked down, the horror began anew.
My legs were changing shape. My toes were curling into themselves, my knees
bending painfully in the wrong direction. This was a nightmare come to life. I
screamed and tried to drag myself forward with my hands, stupidly, as though I
could somehow escape my own body. My claws dug into the soft earth, leaving
long, muddy grooves in the grass.

The horrifying transformation only took a matter of seconds,
but to me it felt like an eternity. There was only agonizing pain and terror
like I’d never known, mashed together with a sense of finality. I was so sure
that this was the end that when I rose shakily up onto my feet, I actually
looked down at the ground. I half-expected to see my twisted, mangled body
lying on the ground beneath me as I floated up into the heavens, but instead
all I saw was a furry chest and two huge paws.

My chest.

My paws.

And I wasn’t floating anywhere.

I tried to speak, but all that came out was a pitiful whine.

I could still smell the horses, and I turned, trying to
remember why I had bothered running in the first place. Something moved in the
corner of my eye, and with it came a new scent. This scent was different than
the horses.

Softer.

Wilder.

A deer.

I snarled and charged the creature. I wish I could say there
was some purpose in mind, some goal I was going for, but at that point I didn’t
even know what I was doing. The deer, clearly more aware of my intentions than
I was, leaped over a fallen log and ran.

The lithe creature darted in between the trees, weaving an
intricate path through the underbrush, whereas I was significantly less
graceful in my pursuit. My legs felt thick and ungainly, and I was running on
all fours, which seemed unnatural although I couldn’t comprehend any other way
that I should be doing it. Every time I inhaled, the scent of the deer drove my
bloodlust to an almost unbearable peak, and the agony became so overwhelming
that for one brief instant, I was almost aware of what I was doing.

A little voice screamed in my head,
Stop! You’re not a killer!
But then I would inhale again, and the
scent would consume me.

The cycle repeated itself, over and over again, as we ran
for what seemed like miles.

My pursuit came to a crashing halt when something dropped
from the trees, landing directly in front of me. I was going too fast to stop,
and tried to jump sideways instead, but I still impacted the shadow with my
shoulder and went tumbling, head over heels.

I leaped to my feet and turned, staring at the black-clothed
figure that had dropped in my path. The scent was different. This one didn’t
tempt me at all. There was no heartbeat, no enticing smell of blood and flesh.
The scent was different. Spicier. Appealing, but certainly not to my appetite.

As I watched, he reached up, using one hand to push the hood
of his sweatshirt back. I saw with a shock that it was a man.

Not just any man.

Jericho.

There was no mistaking those silver eyes.

He took a step forward, and I backed away. He didn’t smell
human. But he certainly wasn’t a wolf, like me.

I froze when the full realization hit me.

I was a wolf.

But I knew that I wasn’t a wolf. I was Eve, and I was human.
How had this happened? Was I under a curse? Was I dreaming? Obviously I’d heard
of werewolves, but those weren’t real. They were just mythical creatures in
fairy tales and bad romance novels…right?

I looked longingly after the deer, which was gone by now,
and although I was disgusted by my cravings, the thirst was about to drive me
insane.

“Eve,” Jericho said, and my head snapped back to him. My
eyes narrowed. How did he know it was me?

Moonlight streamed through the branches of the trees. A moonbeam
gleamed off one silver stud in his earlobe. I felt uneasy, looking at that tiny
dot of silver. Something about it was unsettling to me.

Jericho’s eyes met mine. “Try to stay calm,” he told me, and
took another step forward.

I flattened myself to the ground, feeling queasy. The thirst
was getting annoying now. I didn’t know where I was, or
what
I was, but I did know that Jericho wasn’t human, and that
scared me even more than my sudden transformation.

“You can’t speak, so don’t try,” he said gently, crouching
in front of me. “But we can still communicate.”

As I watched him, he nodded his head deliberately,
indicating a yes answer, and then shook his head from side to side- the
universal sign for no.

His expression was solemn. “Do you understand?”

I nodded.

His smile was slight, more of a gentle curve to one corner
of his lips. “Do you know what’s happening?”

I shook my head.

“Have you hurt anyone yet?”

I shook my head again, and I saw relief flood his face.
“Good. I know it’s confusing, but I’ll do everything I can to help you. You’re
experiencing the bloodlust that comes with shape-shifting, but believe me when
I say you can control it. Don’t let it consume you. The guilt you’ll suffer if
you let the bloodlust take over will be far worse than the effort of
restraining yourself.”

How did he know this? Could he transform into a wolf, too?
Somehow I doubted it. With my new wolf senses, I could see and sense much more
than I could with my weak human body. Jericho exuded a sense of calmness…a
quiet, peaceful strength uncomplicated by cravings. The bloodlust he spoke of
was clearly not an issue for him.

I swallowed, and looked back at the darkness of the forest
where the deer had disappeared. Thirst and shame warred within me.

A shadow caught my eye, and I tensed. I could smell nothing,
but I had seen something.

Jericho noted the change in my demeanor, and stood, turning
to look in the direction I was facing. “What do you see?” he said. His voice
was soft, little more than a whisper, but I could hear him perfectly.

I rose and stalked forward, hackles rising. I knew there was
something there, but whatever it was, it didn’t want to be seen.

“Don’t go after it, Eve,” Jericho murmured from behind me.
“Let it come to us.”

I ignored him, padding forward silently.

That was unusual for me. I’d never been very good at taking
orders, but generally I felt at least a pang of guilt any time I defied
someone’s wishes. This time, I didn’t give it a second thought, and I could
sense Jericho’s irritation at my lack of obedience.

A set of brilliant chocolate eyes snapped in the darkness.
They seemed…almost backlit, as if they weren’t eyes at all, but jewels held up
in front of a penlight. I hesitated, unsure of what kind of creature this could
be. As it stepped into a shaft of moonlight, my breath caught in my throat.

It was another wolf. There was no mistaking it. The wolf’s
lean muscles rippled beneath its glossy black coat, its bared teeth gleaming in
the moonlight.

A low growl rose in my throat, unbidden but not entirely unwelcome.
This stranger didn’t look friendly. If anything, he looked ready to attack at
any moment.

There was a flash of silver to my left, and suddenly Jericho
was beside me, one hand against my shoulder as he shoved me out of the way. A
huge gray wolf tackled him at the same moment that the black wolf lunged at me.

Time seemed to slow as I reacted, my senses on complete
overload as I struggled frantically to process what was going on. I met the
black wolf’s charge head-on, the impact knocking the wind out of me. We rolled
over several times, each of us snarling and trying to find purchase with our
sharp fangs. I slashed at his muzzle and was rewarded with a yelp as he pulled
back. I took the opportunity to scramble to my feet, backing away and growling.

I dared to glance in Jericho’s direction and was stunned to
see him fighting
two
wolves- one
gray, and one pure, snowy white. A chill ran down my spine as I watched Jericho
jump over one wolf, smashing his fist into the other wolf’s head mid-leap.
 
I had no idea what kind of man would be so
inhumanly strong- or if he was even a man at all.

Something barreled into me from behind, knocking me to the
ground, and I felt jaws close firmly over my neck. Teeth grazed my skin through
my thick fur, and I howled in anticipation of the pain, knowing I was defeated.
My mind was flooded with panic. Why were they attacking us? What had I done?