Second Skin (Skinned) (3 page)

Was I soulless, like the beasts lumbering at us? My eyes narrowed, taking in their emaciated hides. These werewolves were crazy thin. The dregs of Logan’s pack. In exchange for my cooperation, the master vampire had agreed not to increase his bestial army, but he sure was making use of the minions he had left. Without Wade, his progeny, to do his dirty work, Logan had run out of options.

Wade had joined our ranks, fought against his sire, and was now AWOL. He hadn’t reached out to me, and our private mode of communication—a bit of telepathy I hadn’t told the rest of the crew about—had been severed. No one had seen him since the last battle.

Since the night he’d protected me from his father.

Worry for Wade, for my friends and family festered inside, my fears unconsciously calling to my wolf, bringing out its urge to protect. Skirmishes like tonight had a way of firing up my blood. My wolf became difficult to control.

I might lash out at the wrong prey.

I turned to glare at my best friend, betting I’d see some serious regret in her eyes, but she was watching Blake shoot upward and charge across the sky, abandoning us to our fate.

Like I said, family issues.

“Don’t just stand there,” I said through gritted teeth. “Go after him.” I grabbed her forearm and tried to push her body into the air. Even with my wolven strength, I couldn’t bring her to her tiptoes. I shook her shoulder, panic settling in. “Now’s our chance to get him back to ground. You want to help him, right? We need to get him to Kate. The sooner, the better.” If I was the only hope of bringing Blake back to his human form once and for all, then Kate, the town’s café owner by day, and coven headmistress by… well, all the time, was the key to ensuring Blake’s compliance.

She worked some powerful spells.

Staring up at the moonlight, Brit’s pupils contracted—so odd to see them in sprite form. Goat-like, black crescent moons. Her face, now darkened by the thousands of teeny, supple scales that covered her entire body, barely resembled her pale, human visage.

Her scowl was sober, somber even. “I’m not leaving you.”

A surge of adrenaline rushed through my wolf. I swallowed hard against the sudden hammer of my heart. “I can handle the dogs.”
As long as Brit is out of the way
. I pointed at Blake’s retreating figure. “He’s taking off. Isn’t this why you keep coming here? To reason with him? So go reason.”

I saw my chance to strike my point home. “If you don’t make contact with him soon, one of these nights you’re going to get caught. If not by a human, than by one of Logan’s men. Maybe even your dad.” Brit’s father, and other officers on the Redgrave police force, were often manipulated by Logan’s vamp thrall.

Brit’s grunt could have meant anything, but it probably indicated she was pissed. Thankfully she took her rage out on the nearest werewolf, striking hard. Her blows landed sure and fast, her arms a blur. In terms of the age-old flight or fight response, Brit had both options: she could fly, and she was one hell of a fighter. Inhuman strength and speed made her a fierce opponent.

The werewolf reeled, staggering a few feet from me as it absorbed one of Brit’s blows. I swiped at its side, earning a dark look from Brit.

I hung back, letting her take the heat, stuffing down my own internal fire. Brit would benefit from the physical release of battle. That was how I usually calmed down. Or it was before Wade disappeared, before the faintest scent of trouble had my wolf clawing at me from the inside out, desperate to kill something.

Anything.

Now each skirmish had become an internal struggle to prevent my wolf from lashing out at friends as well as foe.

I sucked in a steady stream of night air. My muscles remained fluid, ready to charge into the fight if Brit needed a hand. She showed no sign she’d been drinking. The adrenaline in her system had cleared her head. For now.

Brit’s current situation was my fault. If I’d had access to my father’s work, we could be testing his formula on Blake right now. Brit was angry at me for not having all the answers, for not moving fast enough. But she didn’t have the full story. Didn’t know I was only trying to keep us safe for as long as possible. She was out to prove she could save her brother, with or without my help.

Speaking of help… I grabbed my cell phone from my coat pocket.
If I’d known it was going to be this kind of night, I’d have invited Alec and Matt a lot sooner
. I’d been dealing with Brit’s nightly excursions on my own to this point, not wanting the guys to see just how damaged Brit really was, but this time I’d come unprepared.

No clothes for Brit to wear once she turned back to normal, and werewolves to take down.

That combination meant calling for reinforcements.

Brit’s boyfriend Matt and his brother, Alec—very not my boyfriend, although I guess you could say we had a
thing
going, a very complicated, fragile thing—were both amazing hunters.

Taking advantage of my distraction, my wolf lurched to the surface, and before I knew it, I’d slammed a kick into the were’s side. He rolled backward, smacking face first into a tombstone.

My legs jerked as I fought the urge to rush forward and finish the job, but the goal was for Brit, not me, to release some rage. With the werewolf and my own beast temporarily distracted, I struggled to tap Alec’s name in my list of contacts, not that I had many. With each strike down the screen, I shaved off a thin layer and coils of clear plastic formed under my claws.

Claws were a bitch on technology. “Look out,” Brit yelled.

I dodged a wayward swipe from the other beast, sucking in my gut to avoid a possible vivisection. A blow glanced off my jaw. I growled. My cell phone flew out of my grip as Brit knocked me aside and plunged her fist into the beast’s ribcage. Seconds later a naked elderly woman slumped over Brit’s arm.

The shock of the woman’s wrinkly white skin sucked the spike of rage from me.

I grimaced, baring my teeth at the injustice of her death. To live such a long life, to love and laugh, gain experience and wisdom, and then end up like this? Used. Empty. Logan had clearly been desperate when he’d turned this unfortunate soul.

The other were howled in rage, shifting its weight. Heavy brows jutted over glowing red eyes, seesawing back and forth as the creature debated. Uncertain. Werewolves attacked in teams. Its instincts were telling it to stand down, to run back to its underground den. It let out a stinking huff of air, snarled at us, and with foam spraying from its jaw, bolted for the woods.

I let out a shaky breath at the lull in the attack. My taut stomach muscles relaxed as the threat of additional blows receded.

Brit lowered the body to the snow as the woman’s bruised and gaping flesh trembled. Her meager frame sank into the snow, steam whispering around her. She dissipated, illuminating the entire graveyard in a flash of blinding white light. Only a melted outline remained. A demonic snow angel.

Brit opened her fist revealing the palm-sized Saint Michael’s medallion she used to banish weres. She scooped some snow from the ground and wiped the oblong charm, clearing its silver surface of were blood, black and gruelish. Her choice of banishing weapon was symbolic, really, with Saint Michael being the patron saint of lost things. And weren’t all werewolves lost? Weren’t all paranormals? Even us?

A gush of warm blood filled my mouth. Damn, the hit I’d shaken off earlier was making itself known with a vengeance. I tentatively clenched my jaw, wincing as a few teeth felt wonky, loose. They’d been making way for the expansion and lengthening of my incisors during a shift. My wolf had been gathering when I’d taken the hit, increasing my pain threshold, so I hadn’t felt the impact. I let the fluid gather, then flung my head back and spit. My blood spattered a stone angel. Now she wept bloody tears.

Brit managed a dainty shudder even in her enhanced, muscular form. “Oh, that was ladylike.”

“Look who’s talking, batgirl,” I said, running my tongue around my mouth, feeling for loose teeth. “I’m at least fully clothed.” I swiped my coat sleeve over my lips. I couldn’t let blood linger on my skin. Even my own blood might set me off if my wolf lingered.

Brit glanced down at her spritely body. “Prude. My girly bits get glossed over with scales and stuff when I’m like this. There’s nothing important showing.” She was back to making jokes, a good sign she’d worked off some of her pain.

Forget alcohol. Taking down a paranorm-gone-bad was all the drug hunters needed, and once Brit got that through her thick skull, the better. Although in our crew, we had the added complication of being paranorm-hybrids ourselves. Brit, the dark sprite. Me, the half wolven. And the Delacroix boys, each with abilities via their mother, a Métis shaman. Matt was the healer, and Alec…I wasn’t sure if his talent had revealed itself yet, or if he just hadn’t revealed it to me.

We’d shared a kiss, but both of us liked to keep secrets.

I shot a glance at Brit’s scales. Speaking of secrets… “It’s not your girly bits I’m worried about. You’ll have to shift back before you get home. That’s when clothing would be helpful. Unless you have a stash hidden?”

Brit shook her head.

“Then what’s a little spit over full-on nudity on your doorstep?” My cell phone rang over Brit’s angry sigh. I dug through the snow to retrieve it and answered the call, worried my aunt had realized I’d left the house after the Redgrave teen curfew of nine o’clock. That’s right—we had a curfew. I know—epically unfair, but then Logan, master vamp
and
chief of police, had set it, so
fair
had nothing to do with it.

“Tell me you’re with Brit and you’re both safe.” Alec’s voice growled low in my ear, sending a ripple of heat down my neck. “I’ve left you several messages. Don’t you ever keep your phone on? Matt’s freaking out. He’s been trying to text Brit all night.”

I glanced up. “She’s right here.” Brit circled a tombstone and scanned the trees that edged the graveyard, searching for more activity. She looked okay at the moment, keen for another round, but she’d fade as soon as the adrenaline rush receded. We often slipped into exhaustion after maintaining our paranorm selves for an extended length of time, and Brit had been out gallivanting every night this week. “She’s four feet away from me and so far so good. We’re alive and kicking.” I paused, hating to ask for help, but I had to get Brit back to her human form before she wilted. “A ride home would be nice if you’re offering.”

“Of course, but Eryn, I swear, if you two keep taking off like this…”

I held the phone away from my ear. Alec’s scolding tone put my aunt’s to shame. Sammi, a kindergarten teacher who made Ned Flanders seem like a potty mouth, was obsessed with me and my cousin Paige checking in every few hours. Especially since the mild-mannered town of Redgrave had let down its hair in a
missing children, mauled pets, life’s a bloodbath and then you die
sort of way. “Meet us at Crimson Cemetery.” I interrupted his non-stop

tirade. “Brit’s about to crash, and werewolves are afoot.”

I ended the call, cutting off Alec’s string of curses. The warm fuzzy feelings his rumbling voice inspired had been nixed by his ripping into me. Did he think I’d let anything happen to Brit? The only friend I’d ever had? Proved we had a long way to go before Alec and I could completely trust each other. But could I blame him? Though we’d had a few moments, he was a hunter first and foremost. Hunters survived by questioning everything, viewing newcomers with suspicion, and seeing conspiracy around every corner. In truth, Alec barely knew me.

Besides our hunter upbringings, we also had that in common. I barely knew myself anymore.

A cool wind blasted over my back. The other werewolf had returned, launching over my head, straight for—

“Brit!” I roared, my wolf already active. I unsheathed my athame and plunged the silver blade straight up into the beast’s chest, slicing through flesh and bone. Striking the heart. The beast fell dead at Brit’s feet.

Bloodlust flooded my veins, my legs tensed, my arms twitched against my own urge to shift. The werewolf transformed into the battered body of an old man, bruises darkening his near- transparent, aged-spotted skin. His wasted body shuddered. He dissolved, fading into white.

My wolf retreated, and I was left facing our kills. Twin scorch marks from their arms seemed to reach across the snow for each other. Perhaps they’d been a couple. Married for fifty years and then turned into flesh-eating monsters. They’d lived a human life, and then they’d hunted, killed, and died together, just minutes apart. Was it sick that I found it romantic?

Yeah, it really was. Alec was right to doubt me, to worry my head wasn’t in the game. Even I had trouble telling which side I was on.

Which was exactly why I hadn’t told the crew everything about me. They knew I was half wolven, sure, and that I’d been taking my father’s drugs to keep that side of me at bay. But they didn’t know the drugs had caused a mutation of sorts, making me stronger, unpredictable. Dangerous.

Maybe even a whole lot wrong.