I grunted, “Don’t roll me like this.”
“I’ll rip your--”
Hood rolled us.
I had to do one of those hump jumps to get off them and onto my feet. Fera leaped into their fray and I watched them go back and forth, wondering what the hell kind of after-play they called that. But, eventually, they had Hood down.
Huffing and puffing over the top of him, they said, in unison, “Tell her.”
He howled.
And that had me curious. I snuck closer, dropped near his head, and asked, “Tell me what?”
It was all they could do to hold him down. Jack was getting tired, I think, because he blurted, “He loves you.”
So, no girl would really like to have a guy tortured just so he’ll say he loves her. Okay, maybe. And it’s true that any guy who needs to be held down so he will say the words deserves to be tortured.
But it came from Jack, so I backed up, whispered, “That’s not funny,” and took off.
I heard swearing from all three of them, and howling as they came after me. Call me stupid. I made a beeline for Lobos. Not the tunnel, either. Straight to the friggin’ front door.
No common sense at all. None whatsoever.
Fortunately, it was late, and only garou were on the premises. They lock it down more on the full moon phase, clear the place out early.
The doorman saw me coming, and I swear to God, he had that door open and waiting. It was that, or have me claw him open later. I think he knew that a crinos, chased by more crinos, were not really ones you wanted to piss off. I heard him mutter, “Damn unnaturals,” as I went past and leaped into the open elevator. Before the doors closed, though, he apologized to Hood. “I didn’t realize it was--”
I heard his body hit the glass and a gurgling noise before the lift went up.
I couldn’t breathe. The thing was too tight. Thank God it moved swiftly. I bounded out on habitat level, let out a howl and a squalling “I’m gonna kill something!”
You can’t yell stuff like that just anywhere these days. It’s very liberating.
Next thing I heard was an answering, “Who was that?”
And male howls all around. They smelled me. They recognized my scent. They’d been waiting for me? Or hoping for me?
Chapter Eleven
I wanted to do them all. No. That’s not exactly true. I craved for Hood to come in and find them all over me. See how crinos makes no sense? I wanted nothing more than Hood to agonize over me. That’s what I really wanted.
Remember, in habitat, anything goes. But on a full moon night, the unnaturals rule. The garou who stay in, stay in so they can have an excuse to take out the unnaturals protected by Lobos--but they know it’ll take cunning.
A lone wolf is a dead wolf on a full moon night.
Announcing that I was alone was nothing more than inviting it all. Ravishment. Possible death. I didn’t care. That’s the point. In crinos, insanity takes over.
But at least in habitat, you know there are no real innocents among the garou. They’ve all killed something. You can justify, if you need to.
The minute my cry went up, the unnatural pack came for me. They knew they needed to protect. Ya know?
My ears were up, and I was leaping, like a great fool, from rock to higher rock, howling. Kind of funny, if you think about it. Thank Jack for pointing that out to me later. So I promised him I wouldn’t do it again.
The scramble of pebbles, the kick of dust in the air, followed me up. Not that anyone would have doubted where I was. I was making enough noise to wake the world.
Good thing habitat is a soundproof room. Er, canyon-sized soundstage.
Almost to the top--yeah, I moved fast--I heard Hood howl. Talk about a great zing, thrilled me to the bone. Jack and Fera followed him, and the pack wailed back.
Hood blanketed the room with the thought
Anybody touches her and they’re dead.
Fera followed that up with
What else do you need to hear, Giselle?
Jack, God love him, yelled, “I’m coming for you, Giselle!”
Which, of course, set all the hair standing up. Bitches realized that Hood and Jack, both, were in the habitat. Losers figured that he was coming after their prize bitch.
You see, this is the craziest thing. I’m the only one that didn’t get the fact that I was the alpha female at Lobos.
My stunt looked insane to all of them. Inspired awe. Probably in everyone except Fera, who knew I was just plain being stupid. Yeah. We’ve worked things out since then.
I realized my foolery when I ran out of running room, found myself at the pinnacle of a precipice with nowhere to run--and bitches leaping up the rocks toward me. They had every intention of taking me out. Kill the alpha bitch, and what’s left? An open position. Right?
On a full moon night, the roof of habitat opens up. Not that it’s open, exactly, but it allows the natural moon to shine in. It was almost bright in there, with the silver laced light glinting off of white rocks and water, and things. I might have marveled at the beauty again, if it weren’t for the snarling coming up the hill toward me.
Yeah. I had an ‘oh shit’ moment.
Backing up, feeling the dirt slip and skitter over the back side of the craggy edge, I dug in my toes. I faced my attackers with a curled lip. Too many looming shapes to fight them all, I singled out the two that had continuously put themselves on Hood.
Sure as anything, I figured I was dead. So, I didn’t wait for the cavalry. Like the schizo bitch that I was, I freakin’ aggressed.
They’re still talking about it. They think it was magnificent.
Fera keeps reminding me that it was suicidal idiocy. We don’t talk about it around Hood.
Without a word, I vaulted into the air, hurtling right into bitch number one, snagging her throat with unerring teeth. We tumbled downhill into bitch two. A boulder stopped that momentum--killing two instantly. The jerk of concussion helped me pull the jugular from one. And with that blood in the air, all hell broke loose.
But Jack, God love him again, came charging up the hill, about a dozen tri-athlete leaps ahead of Hood and Fera. I swear, he took to garou like a fish to water. Got game. Ya know?
When I got bounced by three bitches at once, he hit them in full fury, scattered them and knocked one right over the ledge. I heard him go, “Oophf. Sorry!” But he leaped again--probably to get himself away from the edge, and I lost him in the melee. It wasn’t like I had time to stop and gawk.
Picture losers, bitches, all scrabbling on the side of that hill. A whole lot of ass chasing, slap downs, and noise. I spotted Hood and Fera, I don’t know how. Her white fur reflected.
Hunching in a good spot with my back against the rocks, I slapped a few bitches down, but I was getting worried. They were gaining on me, surrounding me, and I heard them on the back side of the rocks, nails clattering as they tried to get up. The only thing that saved me is that they were lupus born. Unnaturals would have thought about cheerleading pyramids or a fireman’s carry, and lifted each other. But no, they were working on the ‘every man for himself’ principle.
We call that slaughter hill, now. Started the big war. Armageddon.
As quick as it got out of hand, Hood put a stop to it. Well, him and Jack. It’s all a blur. I can’t remember much more.
I do remember a few more wolves flying over the edge, splashing below. And I’ve seen a ton of slinking, broken-boned garou at Lobos since then, so I know a glare when I see one now, and know why I’m getting them--which, I personally think is good. I mean, before, I had no real idea.
Several times, before it was done, I heard Hood in my head alternating between
Somebody turn on the lights!
and
Giselle!
Oh, there were a ton of ‘fucks’, ‘son of a bitch’s’, and ‘you’re dead’s’, too.
We watch the playback video for fun. Okay, Fera and I do, so we can watch Jack and Hood--and ourselves. We were awesome.
And we know who our friends are, now.
Anyhow, the lights came up, and pretty much checked the fight. With no cover of darkness, the naturals had to get the hell under cover. The rest of us were left shaking and bleeding on the hill.
I could barely stand, thought I was going to plop right over and roll to my death, but for good measure, I let out a howl. I had never had such an adrenalin rush.
There is a glory to being a werewolf; I don’t care what you say. And that night--I got it.
Other howls went up, echoed and reverberated.
“You’re right, Hood. She is one fucking beautiful bitch.” It was Fera. Bleeding, but not badly, she smiled at me and I knew, finally, that we’d found some tentative understanding. I had earned my place, deserved the homage that Hood had been giving me all along.
Jack asked, “Isn’t that what comes next?” Rising up on his hind legs like a bear, he said, “God, I love this place!”
Hood, however, was watching me. Waiting for me to settle down?
I felt more than saw the whole pack gathering, sitting. Many of them were behind bushes, peeking from behind boulders and trees.
Stretching my neck, rolling my shoulders, I glanced up at the moon, wondered what God would want me to do next. I prayed. I asked forgiveness. After all, I was standing on a mound of fur at that point. But more than that, I prayed to thank God for the opportunity to explore the unimaginable, to be free.
A silence settled on us, and I opened my eyes with a reverence to survey the mess we had made. I considered tiptoeing around it all and leaving quietly, to go lick my wounds, but something told me that they expected something more than that.
I let my gaze pass over them all, real slow, to Fera--who I gave a little smile to. She seemed happy, panting, tongue lolling--having shifted to lupus and dropped to her belly.
Go to him, Giselle.
I looked over, and saw Jack posturing still, glorying in his spot on top of a high rock. But beyond him stood Hood. Almost humble--if crinos can ever be humble. Patiently waiting. He tipped his head.
Not very loudly, I said, “I will come, if you want me to.”
I heard the whispers down the hill as they relayed my words.
He held out his arms and said, “That’s all I ever wanted.”
Right there, in front of the pack, I went to him and ruined all doubts about why I was in Hood’s heart and soul. I started with my crinos tongue, kissed him well and good, then shocked them all by dropping to my knees, tongue out, laughing up at him with, “If you come, we both win. Right?”
You’re probably thinking...oh, hell no. She did not go down on him there.
But I did. I had him panting, howling at the moon, and right there when I had him at the edge--I stopped. And I asked, “What’s it take to get you to beg?”
I heard plenty of begging. A lot of groaning and complaining.
I’m telling you, it’s a bunch of voyeurs.
Hood reached for me, though, and pulled me up into his arms, silencing the whiners, proving his fortitude to them all. With a grin, he said, “You should know by now that I don’t beg.” He searched my face, pressed a sweet kiss to my lips.
There, in his arms, I crumpled a little in pain as the crinos slipped from me. Dawn rose in periwinkle and mauve splendor above us, but I never noticed. Saw it on the tape. I clung to his arms, trying not to cry out. It hurts just watching it.
He swallowed my moans with kisses.
And I wouldn’t believe this if I didn’t have it on tape, but he uttered, over and over again, “Ah, Giselle, I wish I could take this pain from you.”
And Hood wept.
Big, aching, mountain of a man let a raging river fall in the anguish over what he’d brought on me.
I dragged him to the ground with my wracking spasms, crying out, “God help me.”