The Beast (15 page)

"I'll say."

"I-," I couldn't finish the sentence. I didn't know what the sentence was going to be. I had to show her something to make her understand. I couldn't just say it. "Wait!" 

Suddenly stricken with inspiration, I bolted to my room for the bottle of blood.

I brought it back and grabbed a knife from the counter. If she could see how the blood magically healed things she would have to believe me.

I brought the knife down toward my arm and she grabbed my wrist shouting, "What are you doing?"

"Trust me," I said, shaking her hand off.

I cut myself.

The skin opened up and spilled blood that looked like paint. I started to reach for the bottle, but my arm started to burn where I'd cut it. I looked down and watched my skin reaching out for itself, knitting itself shut.

The cut was healed.

"Holy shit!" Sandra screamed, pushing away from the table, knocking her chair over. "How did you do that?"

I exhaled, realizing I'd been holding it in. "It's complicated."

"Well, un-complicate it," she demanded.

"I'm a werewolf."

She stared in stunned silence at me for a long time, trying to determine whether I really believed the insane statement that had just come out of my mouth. "What?"

"I'm a werewolf. Last night during the full moon I turned into a big hairy wolf beast and I howled at the moon and killed a raccoon or something too and I ate it."

She blinked, looked around, blinked again, and then laughed. "Jesus, don't scare me like that! I was starting to think you lost it!"

It was my turn to blink and stammer. "What?"

"You're obviously joking. But that was an amazing trick. Why didn't you want to show the others?"

"It’s not a trick," I said. "I didn't even know that was going to happen. I thought I was going to have to use this."

I held up the bottle and she took it. "What is it?"

"Vampire blood."

"What is it really?"

"That's really what it is." I picked up the knife again. "Let me show you."

She held both arms away from me, ignoring my outstretched hand.

"Come on," I said, closing and opening my hand for hers. "I'll prove to you that it's real."

She looked at me for a long time before apparently deciding that her trust for me was greater than her fear of being cut. I cut her as quickly as I could, trying not to apply too much pressure.

She tried to jump, cursing, but I held her firmly in place. Her eyes grew big and round while I took the bottle from her, pulled the stopper out with my teeth and poured some of the blood over the cut.

Her cut stitched itself together just as mine had.

"Holy shit!" She shouted, pulling against my closed hand.

I touched a finger to her arm to redirect a drop of blood that was winding around it, about to fall onto the table.

My finger burned. I screamed.

Running my finger under water didn't do much to help. Scrubbing seemed to help a little, but only a little.

"Holy shit," Sandra breathed. "You're a werewolf?"

"Yeah, I am."

"What? How? What the shit, Jade? What am I going to tell the others now that I made a whole big deal about you being crazy?"

"That I'm not, hopefully."

"So who were those men, really?"

"Vampires."

"What do they want with you?"

"Well, now they probably just want to kill me. But before I was fully changed, they wanted me to go be one of them.”

“This is crazy,” she said, reaching for a scone. She didn’t eat it, she just picked at it, asking variations of “what?” while I answered with variations of “I don’t know,” until Jack called her and she told him that we were busy, but okay.

chapter 15

I’d never been in the newspapers so much in my life. I would have been unrecognizable in the picture, even if I was fully in human form. Of course, I wasn’t fully human. “Woman in the Hills at Night!” wouldn’t have been nearly as sensational a headline. There was clearly a snout and a big rounded chest over a tiny waist and thick, bent legs, ready to run at a moment's notice.

My blurry monster silhouette was on the radio, on TV, all over the internet, and in every newsstand. I couldn’t go anywhere without seeing my image and hearing “Did you see the picture of the Beast?”

I picked up a copy at a gas station.

Above the picture was the headline “The Beast of Hollywood!”

It looked like a movie werewolf, captured on grainy film. It could have been a person in a costume. Would anyone know the difference? I brought the paper closer to my face to investigate a bright spot.

My ringtone sent me rushing out of the mini market. Someone snickered.

Sandra didn’t wait for me to say hello.

“Jade, have you seen-.”

“Yes!” I wailed. “How could I not? It’s everywhere.”

“Well he says you haven’t.”

I looked at the phone in surprise. “Who?”

“Simon. He’s here. He’s waiting for you.”

As if my arm was suddenly too heavy to bear, my hand started to droop. The phone in it slipped from my slack fingers.

Simon.

That bastard.

I swept up the phone and threw the paper into my car. It hit the passenger door with a thump and fluttered to the floorboard.             

Simon.

You can’t turn into a werewolf
. Those were his words.

The lying bastard.

It’s not some disease you just catch.
I was probably still digesting raccoon. I woke up naked and afraid and I wore those awful shorts. And it was his fault.

Simon
.

I hardly bothered to throw the car into park and pull the keys out before I jumped out and stormed to the door.

Conveniently, Simon had a copy of the newspaper laid out on the table.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, rising to accuse me.

“Sit down!” I roared. The door crashed against the wall and slammed itself shut. I didn’t know that there could be so much power in my voice, but he sat.

I opened my mouth to tell him what he’d done to me. What was there to say? That I’d felt free for the first time, invincible, until I turned back into myself? That because of him I knew what power felt like? I took too long to respond, and he started up again.

“How could you let yourself be seen like that? It says that they shot you. Twice.” His voice was lower, but the accusation reminded me that it was
his
fault I was being hunted my humans and vampires both.

“Where the hell were you, Simon? Do you even know what I went through?”

He slapped the paper on the table. “I’ve done it once or twice myself, thanks. I know exactly what you went through.”

I slammed both hands on the table and snarled, my face inches from his. “You don’t. You knew it was coming when it happened to you. You went out and you had family to guide you. You had a pack. You had guidance. I had no one. You lied to me, Simon. You told me that this couldn’t happen.”

As if I was hearing the thoughts echoing in his mind, I heard some version of his voice apologize. It was a jumble of excuses and apologies and it was hard to make sense of. The basic message was that he was sorry and he didn’t know.  

Not good enough.

Sandra’s keys jangled in the hand she used to angrily swipe her eyes. “You two figure this out. And don’t break anything or I’ll be back with silver bullets for that gun under your bed for both of you!”

“You made me a monster and you left me,” I shouted. "I had no one."

The door slammed behind Sandra. Simon looked up at me, regret hiding behind anger in his eyes. "I didn't know that it could happen.”

“Look at me,” I pointed at the paper, nearly flinging it off the table. “I’m a monster, Simon! And they think that I’m a killer on top of that.”

His eyes flashed with fury. “What did you think would happen when you got into bed with a monster?”

Maybe “monster” was a little harsh. It didn't matter. I wasn't about to let up.

"You left me," I growled. I pushed myself closer, so that my forehead ground against his.

All at once I felt what he was feeling. He was defensive because I was attacking him. He was sorry, too. He really hadn't known that it was possible to change someone and he didn't know how it had happened. He was upset at leaving me but it was the only chance he had to heal his damaged hands. He wanted to be with me, he wanted to stop hurting me.

He was feeling what I felt, and I could feel that too.

At the same time I saw his first transformation, smiling faces all around, surrounded by lush greenery as the light started to fade. In stark contrast, but right on top of it, I saw my own. We shared all the inarticulate betrayal I felt and the shame of running through the street, half me and half monster. Stealing from a Yard Sale and the panic when I thought that it was the house of my former coworker.  All the panic of not knowing where I was or where I was going. Telling Sandra.

All of our pain and confusion seemed to cancel itself out.

We both sat back into our chairs, understanding.

"I'm sorry," we said.

"I didn't know-," he started.

"I know," I said. We were both crying. "You weren't expecting that, were you? What just happened right now?"

"We're a pack," he said. "It's one way of communicating, but it's never been so intense before. I always thought it was just a family thing. It was always so second-nature."

He walked around the table and bent his head toward mine. He touched his temple to mine in an intimate gesture.

Warmth and love washed over me. In my mind I heard him say
, It's like this. You can just project what you want to me to know. In wolf form this is the only way we can relay complete sentences.

Before he moved away I felt his hopefulness at having a pack. I felt everything that it meant to him. Home. Security.

I felt my own excitement building at the thought. I’d never felt anything like it. You could tell your pack anything at all and they would love you anyway. Better than that, you didn’t have to tell them. You could just let them feel it and they would understand. They would always be there.

I stared up at him, took in the sight of him through my new eyes. I wanted…

Simon.

I reached up and pulled his head toward mine. Instead of foreheads, our lips met. I closed my eyes and let my tongue explore his. I reached up for him and without breaking the kiss, he lifted me from the chair.

I felt like someone very small in the hands of someone very capable. I could feel his heavy heartbeat through his shirt until he set me down.

"Jade," he started. I pulled his face to mine so we were cheek to cheek and temple to temple.

Shut up,
I thought into his head.
Let me enjoy you. Let's worry later.

He put a hand on my shoulder, his bare hand for once, no longer scarred, and let it slide down my arm. The straps of my bra and tank top slid down with it. My lips parted and I drew breath like I was breathing through a straw. I lifted my jaw and looked at him with my eyes half closed, basking in the warmth of him. His scent washed over me and my desire only intensified when he pressed his face close to mine so that the side of his nose pressed against mine and he tilted his head down so that our foreheads touched.

That's a sign of submission
, he thought into my mind. I could feel his need for me stirring in my own body, as if we were one.
Exposing your throat means that you are mine. It means you accept me as your alpha.

I pulled back and broke the connection. Let him think what he wanted, I was no one's. I was my own.

He tilted his head and lifted his chin to me. Somehow I knew it was the same thing. He was submitting to me. He was letting me know that he was mine. My face grew warm, and other parts of me followed suit.

He bent down and kissed me again, knocking me back onto the bed. I pulled him down and with strength I didn't know I had, I rolled over onto him.
Alpha this
, I thought, pulling my shirt off over my head.

I felt him between my legs through the layers of fabric that separated us, and I rocked back and forth against the pressure and felt him shiver with pleasure. He reached for me and I slipped away again and again, pulling my bra off and pushing his shirt over his head. All the while I gently swayed on top of him, feeling my own pleasure rise until I thought that I wouldn't be able to handle anymore. I raked my fingernails down his chest and across his muscular stomach and when he tried to grab me again I slid to the floor and tugged at the button on his jeans. It came undone easily, but all the slack had gone out of the front of them and I was afraid to pull the zipper. He adjusted and pulled the zipper down for me. He started to pull his pants off and when I moved to help, he grabbed me and flipped me onto my back, whipped my shorts and panties off in one fluid movement and then he was inside of me.