The Beast (18 page)

Read The Beast Online

Authors: Shantea Gauthier

BOOK: The Beast
8.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

My nose caught a welcome, musky smell as my ears caught the patting of nervous hooves on the soft ground. I felt the deer and I sprang for it. I was faster, bigger, and stronger. Simon and I ran alongside the pretty little deer and Simon snapped at her heels.

The deer faltered, trying to skip away from Simon’s jaws and I caught her. My mouth closed around her thick neck and in one bite, she was mine.

Hot blood flowed into my mouth like an elixir, healing and energizing me.

My jaws closed over her flesh again and again. Fur, skin, bones and meat filled my belly. I looked up at Simon who only had a few bites of the doe’s flank.

Is this an Alpha thing?

He gave a snort that could have been a laugh.

I left the legs and head to the coyotes, vultures and bugs.

We ran.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

chapter 18

 

 

For the second time in my life, I woke up naked under an oak tree. This time I wasn’t afraid. My clothes hung overhead and Simon stirred beside me. My car key hung around his neck, but my necklace was gone. The vampires took it, and in return we took their lives. 

Or whatever vampires have
, Simon thought. He twisted his fingers in mine and kissed my cheek.

Footsteps crunching through the dry grass stopped things from progressing.

Up the tree. Get dressed if we can.

I can’t climb!
My body disagreed, reaching up for a branch and pulling me up. I hardly felt the rough bark and spiked leaves as I pulled myself upward.

Police?

Since when do police come looking for the killer of a deer?
My wolf nose told me that deer were plentiful, so there was no reason to investigate, even if it looked like humans killed one. But it didn’t look like humans killed it.

Two officers emerged from thick brush, gave a cursory glance around and disappeared again.

Simon released a breath, slowly opened the bag and handed me my clothes. I slipped into the jogging outfit and yard sale moccasins that I’d packed. In hindsight it was a suspicious get up, unlike Simon’s shorts, tank top, and running shoes. Always the minimalist, I didn’t want to take up space with my new running shoes, or worse- lose them and have to buy another pair.

Convinced that the cops weren’t coming back, we dropped from the tree and ran to the car where a fire truck, an ambulance, and a semi-circle of police cars were parked just ahead.

Paramedics pulled a covered gurney to the ambulance.

I looked at Simon. He shook his head and we slipped through a wooden fence.

A stranger’s voice startled me.

“I think it was the Beast,” the stranger said, leaning on the fence. “That’s pretty scary. I didn’t think it would happen this close to home.”

“Do you live over here?” Simon asked.

The man nodded toward a pale blue house with a red car parked in the driveway. “Right there. Name’s Mitch.”

He held out his hand and Simon shook it. “Simon.”

I didn’t want to give him my name. I didn’t want to be connected with this. I didn’t want to be
blamed
for this. I shook his hand, “Jade.”

The man lit a cigarette, offered one to us. We declined.

“Yup,” he said before taking a long drag. “I didn’t expect that it could happen so close, but I guess the sightings were only seven miles away, so I can’t be too shocked. They keep calling it the Beast of Hollywood, so we all felt safe.”

I stared at the ambulance, not seeing it at all.

“Any idea who it was?” I asked Mitch. I realized that we were not alone with him. The neighborhood was alive with curiosity. Those who lived inside of the barricade looked like they were picnicking on their lawns. Others, like us, were grouped into nervous crowds, gawking.

“I’ve seen as much as you two,” said Mitch.

Maybe less
, I thought, keeping my gaze stubbornly away from Simon.

“Well, I’ve seen enough,” Simon said. “I’m sure it’ll be all over the news in a few hours. Hope it was no one you knew.”

“I don’t know,” Mitch chuckled. “I can think of a few I wouldn’t mind so much. But same to you folks. Have a good one.”

“Simon, what did you do?”

He didn’t look at me. “Nothing. I went back for the vampires to make sure they wouldn’t get back up. Is that okay with you? Should I clear it with you first next time? Let them catch up and kill us and then ask your permission to get rid of them?”

“Is that all you did?”

He didn’t answer.

Sandra didn’t look like her night was much better than mine. As soon as Simon saw her wild hair and red face, he backed slowly through the door.  I wasn’t done with him, but I’d have to deal with it later. Sandra took priority, especially if things didn’t go so well with Jack.

“Sandra?” I held my hands out in front of me and moved slowly, like she was a wild animal and might bite.

She didn't look up, just kept shoving clothes in her bag, pulling them out, and shoving them back in.

"Sandra, is everything okay? What are you packing for?"

"I'm going to my parents' house for a few days," she muttered.

"In San Francisco? Why, what happened?" Poor Jack.

She turned to me and held up her hand. The diamond ring sparkled next to her sparkling blue eyes. She squealed.

I gasped in overly dramatic, excited shock. "No way! He
proposed
?"

She gave me a playful slap on the shoulder. "He already told me that he told you, you faker."

"Wait, so why are you leaving? You said yes, didn't you?"

She grinned, showing off her perfect teeth. I might have been able to see all of them. "I did say yes, so they want me to go visit them for a few days to celebrate. Well, they actually want both of us but Jack can't get out of work. And I want to make sure they actually mean it and that I'm not leading him into a trap because, well, they're my parents and it’s probably a trap."

She hardly breathed she was so excited. I grabbed her hand and admired the ring on it. We squealed and shook and bounced around like excited girls.

"I want to go before it gets too late," she said. "I need to finish packing."

She pulled the clothes out of the bag again.

"Here," I said, shaking a tangled mass of tights and underwear into individual garments. "Let me help you with that."

We got her all packed up and before noon she was gone.

I felt alone as soon as her car was out of sight. If Simon was going to try to hide from me, or disappear on me again, I needed protection. A special kind of protection.

I got into my car and went out looking for coffin nails.

The man at the funeral home took one look at my flowery skirt and green tank top and decided that I was not in mourning. His black suit would have looked formal before I met Harold and Charles, but now it looked too long, too loose, and his hair was too greasy and stiff, action figure hair.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a calm, low voice.

I looked around. "I have kind of a strange request," I began. "I'm looking for coffin nails."

He put a hand over his face in a look of exasperation. "You people," he said. "Look around you. Look at our caskets. Look at the floor. Do you think we just have nails lying around?"

I looked at the caskets and the floor and felt shame creep into my cheeks. I was an idiot. The caskets were all steel or glossy stained wood with ornate metal handles or without visible metal at all.

They don't make caskets at a funeral home, dummy.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean any disrespect. I just- I just really need them."

"Then go find an occult shop," he said. "They're in business to indulge those fantasies.
We
are in business to give the dead a dignified resting place."

I wanted to apologize. I wanted to back track and think about it first. I wanted to look online. I wanted anything but the disdain of the man in front of me. I couldn't do any of that so I mumbled another apology and left.

At least he’d pointed me in the right direction. An occult store. But where would I even find one?

I pulled out my smart phone and found that there was one right down the street.

I love you,
phone.

I turned the volume up in my car when I heard that they were reporting on the latest attack.

"So if you haven't been living under a rock you've already heard about the Beast's revenge, right? We have a world class zoologist in the studio with us to talk about. Thanks for joining us Dr. Swahara."

"Thank you for having me," the guest said.

"For those of you who
have
been living under a rock, there were sightings of "The Beast of Hollywood" a few weeks ago and just last night there was another victim. It was one of the men who originally spotted the beast. So, Dr. Swahara, there have been reports all over the internet that it was a hoax to begin with. What do you think? Was it the killer's revenge for stealing his thunder or was it a beast that remembered him from last time?"

"Well," Dr. Swahara answered in a mild accent. "I'm not well equipped to explain the mind of a killer, but I can at least address the hoax part of it."

"You know whether it's real or not?" the host said in a dramatic, suspense building voice. I half expected him to cut to a commercial, but instead he said, "Is it?"

"I can tell you that the two people who saw it submitted to a polygraph to talk about what they saw, and they passed. They weren't lying about what they saw, but we can't know for sure until someone catches it."

"Well, that's a little disappointing, Doc."

The guest laughed. "I'm sorry to be a disappointment. Maybe this will make up for it.” He took a brief pause. “Have you ever heard of a Devil Monkey?"

"No, what the devil is a Devil Monkey?"

"It’s a type of North American Ape that there have been sightings of ever since the thirties. They are said to have thick, kangaroo like back legs and shorter front legs with defined fingers and claws. They have an ape-like torso and have been said to have either cat or dog-like snouts in addition to pointed ears and bushy tails."

"So you think Big Foot is out there?"

"No, a Devil Monkey is very different from Big Foot. Devil Monkeys have been seen to cross fields in a single leap and are said to move incredibly fast. Big Foot is basically a big teddy bear compared to devil monkeys and they, unlike Big Foot, are entirely possible."

"Well, we'll be back with more on that after the break. This is fascinating," the host said.

At least they weren't closer to the truth and they weren't hunting me.

The occult shop tucked away between a laundromat and a donut shop, had a small sign that said "CURIO" over the door in big purple and gold letters. A sign boasting a palm reader was taped the door.

I was assaulted by odors when I opened the door, some pleasant and some unpleasant, all very strong and the effect was sickening. A young black man sat on a tall stool behind the counter wearing a brightly colored head wrap, a black tank top that revealed skinny arms and jeans with deliberate holes in the knees that must have cost extra.

"Looking for anything specific?" he asked, not looking up from the textbook on the counter. He pulled a cap off of a highlighter and dragged it across a line of text.

"Um, coffin nails?"

He pointed with the back end of the highlighter to a wall with little bags of "CURIO" hanging on it. He wasn't what I'd expected. I don’t know exactly what I expected, but he wasn't it. Maybe if he was older, in colorful robes to match the head wrap he would look like an African mystic. Or maybe he should have just been an old Chinese man with a ferret on his shoulder or something. Not some kid studying for Algebra.

I found coffin nails in cute little packages that listed simple "bad magick" spells that could be cast with them.

"Offense or defense?" the kid asked.

"Defense?"

He flashed a white smile at me. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah."
I just wasn't expecting you to care.

"Against what?" he set the book aside and joined me at the wall.

"Vampires?"

He smiled compassionately. "It's okay. I'm young, but my grandad was a voodoo priest in New Orleans if it makes you feel any better."

I eyed him suspiciously.

"Look, I know my stuff. Is it general protection or something specific?"

I crossed my arms and leaned back on one hip. "Vampires," I repeated.

"Psychic vampires or literal blood-suckers?"

"Literal blood suckers."

"What do you want coffin nails for?" He looked at the package in my hand dubiously.

Other books

The School Bully by Fiona Wilde
To Rescue Tanelorn by Michael Moorcock
Breakfast Served Anytime by Combs, Sarah
The Baker by Serena Yates