Blood and Chocolate (19 page)

Read Blood and Chocolate Online

Authors: Annette Curtis Klause

Tags: #Fiction

28

“I've got a silver bullet,” Aiden said, and the gun trembled slightly. “I made it myself with my dad's equipment.”

“Out of what, the best knives and forks?” Her derision was hollow. She remembered the silver crucifix in his room, and his father's gun collection.

He looked surprised that she had questioned him. “I made it out of stuff I had, like the necklace you threw back at me.”

Blood rushed to Vivian's face; the necklace at Kelly's wasn't hers. But this was worse. He had saved his love gift to kill her with. She shivered. “Only one bullet?” she asked.

“That's for me to know.” His dark eyes were glassy with fear in the moonlight.

“Well, you'd better have more,” she told him, “because the real killers will be here any second.”
Poor Aiden,
she thought.
He hates guns.

“Stop lying, please,” he said, the sadness in his voice matching the way she felt. “The killer could only be you.”

Astrid's shrill laughter pierced the night. “Are you sure?” She walked around the rocks. Horror bloomed in Aiden's eyes as he saw her, half changed, her ears pointed, her breasts emerging from a smooth red pelt. She had abandoned her patch, and a knot of scar tissue marred her face where her right eye had been. Aiden's gun wavered and switched to the new target.

“Can I join the party?” Rafe's voice came from behind Vivian, and she whirled to face him. His hair was a shaggy mane down his naked back, his nails were talons, and his eyes glowed red.

Aiden swung the gun toward Rafe. Panic distorted his face. Vivian backed up until she was at Aiden's side. “Do you believe me now?”

His “yes” came out a squeak, but despite his fear, Aiden stood his ground, slowly moving his gun in an arc between Astrid and Rafe.

“Playing with guns are we?” said Astrid. “You know bullets can't harm us, meat-boy.” Either she hadn't heard Aiden say he had a silver bullet or she didn't believe him.

“If you leave now, Vivian, you won't have to see him suffer,” Astrid offered.


You
get out of here,” Vivian growled. “I won't let you hurt him.”

Astrid grinned maliciously. “Oh? And it's up to you, is it?”

“Come on, Viv, he's nothing to you,” Rafe said. “The stupid little creep was gonna shoot you.”

“Oh, but he is something to you, isn't he?” said Astrid. “That's why I shall take such pleasure in killing him.”

“Try it,” Aiden managed to say. He didn't sound convincing.

“If you can't get off two shots fast, don't do it,” Vivian whispered.

“He knows who we are now, Vivian. He's got to die,” Rafe taunted.

Vivian's talons slid in and out, and her teeth ached with the urge to grow. A tail writhed invisibly in her back like a worm. Couldn't she control herself? Was she truly just an animal? But she dared not change. Aiden was as likely to shoot her as them if she did.
Where the hell is Gabriel?
Vivian thought. She'd have to stall. “Why did you set me up?” she asked.

“Clever Vivian. You figured it out,” Astrid answered. “Give the girl a hand, Rafe. Oh, but you already did, didn't you?” She shrieked with laughter.

“It was a joke, Viv,” Rafe said. “You were being such a pain, acting like a meat-girl. We would have told you.”

Vivian noticed the scornful look Astrid shot Rafe. “Why did you
really
set me up, Astrid?”

“Because I hate you,” Astrid spat. “And I think I'll kill you, too. Oh, dear,” she continued in a singsong voice. “We came upon her slaughtering the boy and had to stop her. She must have been the rogue.”

“And how will you explain the deaths that keep happening after I'm gone?” Vivian said. “You don't think she's going to stop, do you Rafe? She's crazy. Can't you see that?”

“Hey, come on,” Rafe said, starting to look worried. “It's a joke, right?”

“You're such a tool, Rafe,” Vivian said. That wiped the grin off his face.

“Not satisfied with one lover, are you?” Astrid snarled. “You took Gabriel from me but you want to keep the boy as well.”

Her words surprised Rafe. “She didn't take Gabriel from you.”

“I could have had him if it wasn't for her.”

“But he didn't want you,” Rafe said, hurt and rage in his voice. He no longer faced Vivian and Aiden.

“I would have changed his mind,” Astrid answered, turning on Rafe.

Vivian couldn't believe her luck.

“But you've got me now. Why should it matter?” Rafe cried.

She had to trust Aiden's common sense or they both would die. “Shoot him. I'll take her.” She yanked off her T-shirt and ran.

The change ripped through her. She leaped into the air as a girl but came down creature, and heard a shot and begged it wasn't for her. She slammed into Astrid's chest. Her teeth found Astrid's throat.

Astrid made the full change as they hit the dirt, and she writhed and bucked as she tried to toss Vivian off. Vivian couldn't breathe with Astrid's fur in her nose, but she wouldn't let go. Astrid's back claws scrabbled at Vivian's belly, but Vivian flipped the red wolf onto her side and bore her down. The taste of blood exploded in Vivian's mouth.
Frighten me, would you, bitch?
she raved inside.
Make me think I'm out of control? I'll show you out of control.
She realized the rumbling in her head was the sound of her own growling rage.

Then suddenly she was shaken like a rag and discovered herself in the air. The shock half changed her back to human form.

“The Law is mine to mete out,” thundered Gabriel. “But good work,” he whispered, setting her on her feet.

“Where the hell were you?” she rasped.

“Removing a carpet from your front porch,” he answered.

Astrid's tricks again,
she thought, and saw the culprit, now also in semihuman form, restrained by Rudy and Tomas, while she coughed and struggled weakly. Rafe lay in a still heap on the ground. He was in his skin, so probably dead.
Great Moon, the kid can shoot after all,
she thought and shuddered. Her eyes searched out Aiden.

Aiden looked around wildly as, one by one, others of the pack made themselves known and formed a semicircle on the riverbank. Some were in skin and some were in fur, others were in between; eyes blazed red, golden, and green in the light of the sinking moon. Vivian saw Esmé. Orlando Griffin and Persia Devereux were there.

“You have condemned yourself with your own words,” said Gabriel to Astrid as he approached her. “You killed humans for the joy of it. You deliberately endangered the pack and tormented one of your own.” He stood in front of her now. “You will always be a danger to us. We have no prisons, we have no jailors. This is the only sentence.”

He swiftly reached out with both hands and snapped Astrid's neck. She fell to the ground and kicked a few times, they lay still.

As Gabriel turned from the corpse Vivian saw pain in his eyes, not pleasure, and she understood the burden he took on as leader. But his lips tightened and determination veiled his sorrow. “This is the Law,” he cried.

“This is the Law,” came the shout from all. Those in fur set up a howl. The others joined in. Ulf was crying into his fists, and Willem and Finn on four legs nudged in close to comfort him.

Gabriel called for silence. A full howling wasn't wise in this place.

Aiden!
Vivian realized she had forgotten him. He crouched on the ground, retching. “It's okay now,” she told him gently. “You can go.”

Gabriel came closer, offering his hand. Aiden flinched and raised his arm. He still held the gun.

“No!” Vivian cried. “He's letting you go.” She stepped in front of Gabriel as the shot exploded. A force in her chest knocked her backward. A dark shape flew past her. There were millions of stars in the sky. Somewhere far off Esmé screamed.

“Stay back. I have him,” Gabriel ordered.

She felt hands upon her, but she couldn't see. She smelled Esmé's Paris perfume, and the powdery scent of old woman was everywhere. Aunt Persia ordered Bucky to run for her bag.

“Look at what you've done,” said Gabriel, and her vision cleared as if her eyes craved the sight of him. She saw Aiden over her, Gabriel gripping his arms. Tears ran down Aiden's face.

“You have shot the only one here who cares about you,” Gabriel said, and his fangs had grown.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” Aiden whispered. “I didn't mean to hit you. I thought I could kill you when I came here, but when I saw you I knew I couldn't. Now I've done it anyway.”

“No one's dead yet, boy,” snapped Aunt Persia.

It took all the energy Vivian had to speak. “Let him go,” she said.

A flicker of tenderness crossed Gabriel's face. “For you,” he answered. “Boy,” he said harshly. “There are more of us than you will ever know. If you breathe a word of this, it will get back to me. There is nowhere you will be safe.”

Aiden looked around the assembled pack, his eyes stricken and huge. He nodded, unable to talk. His world had changed. Now shadows would always take on threatening shapes. What had she done? Oh, poor, poor boy. She was indeed a monster. She had made him unsafe forever.

“Make a path,” Gabriel ordered. He released Aiden's arms.

Aiden took a step, then paused. “Please,” he said in a small voice. “Let me know how she is.”

“If she dies you will know,” Gabriel growled.

Aiden took off running.

“Vivian, my darling,” said Aunt Persia. “It would help me if you took on one form or the other.”

Vivian gathered that inner force she couldn't name and tried the secret squeeze.
Wolf,
she thought, naming her animal shape with its imperfect name, but nausea ripped through her. The thought of her fur form disgusted her. Human then. She tried again, but nothing happened. She tried again and again and again.

I can't change,
she thought, her gorge rising.
I can't change.

She was stuck in between.

29

Vivian held a brush in her clawed hand and swept fat strokes across the mural, obliterating the forest and the wolves on her bedroom wall with patchy white paint.
This is no longer mine,
she thought.
It hasn't been mine for a long, long time. It will never be mine again.

She hadn't been out of the house for more than two and a half weeks, she barely spoke to her family, and whenever Gabriel visited she retreated to her room. Why would he want to see her now?

Aunt Persia had come by twice with herbal potions she had concocted. Nothing worked. “It's up to you now,” she had said. In other words, it was useless. Over and over again Vivian had clenched her muscles and willed herself to change one way or the other, but she was like a rusty lock stuck in between—no matter how hard she forced, the key would move neither forward nor back. The full moon had come and gone, and she had stayed the same—immutable, unchanging, frozen.

It's all my fault,
she thought as she roughly wiped a furred arm across her forehead, pushing up the sleeve of her loose silk robe.
I tried to be what I wasn't, and now I can't even be what I should. I'm a freak.

She splattered the paint in a sudden arc of anger. “A freak! A freak! A freak!” she screamed. And because of her an innocent boy was dead.

The newspapers had already forgotten Peter Quincey, but police cruisers still crawled the neighborhood at triple the usual frequency, concerned civic groups met at the high school, and kids were told to be off the streets by eleven o'clock. No one was sure a detective wouldn't show up on their doorstep. The whole pack was relieved at the news that Gabriel had approved the purchase of a property in Vermont. The parcel included an inn and land right next to the Green Mountain National Forest. They could go back to the family business and be isolated enough to run free. In a week or so Gabriel was going up to sign the papers. They could make plans. They could think of the future.

“The future.” Sputum shot between Vivian's fangs and joined the paint on the wall. What future did she have?
I'm not going,
she decided. How long would the pack be kind to her? What would she be but an ugly reminder of their year in the suburbs? And how could she bear to pretend to live a normal life when she could never run with the pack again? She belonged with the freaks in a carnival, but she'd stay here, in this room, hidden.

There was a scratching out back and one of her tufted ears tilted in the direction of the window.
Damn them,
she thought. Willem and the others had spent many a night on the porch roof outside her window. They refused to let her be alone. “We're still the Five, Vivie,” Willem had said. “Yeah, you're one of us,” Finn had agreed. If the night had been cooler she could have closed the window and ignored them, but she didn't feel like suffocating just to spite them.

She pulled her robe closed and slouched to the window, as erect as her spine would allow. Sure enough Willem, Gregory, and Ulf swarmed onto the roof. Finn dropped from the branches of the oak with a soft thud. Behind them heat lightning flashed in the purple sky, drowning the stars. As usual, the guys were naked and half changed. “It's the latest style,” Willem had said when she'd complained. “All the best people are wearing it.” Once more she silently thanked the unknown landscaper who had planted trees that sheltered the roof from both sun and prying eyes.

“We've got another one for you,” Willem said.

Vivian snorted. They were going through everyone's music collections looking for werewolf songs. To inspire her, Finn said, although she suspected it was for his own amusement. Last night they had sung “Moon over Bourbon Street” by someone called Sting. Their singing was hideous. The night before, while they were performing “Werewolves of London,” Esmé had threatened to turn the hose on them, if she could only stop laughing.

Esmé was much too happy nowadays, since Tomas had moved in with them. Vivian had tried to spoil it by pointing out how he had run when the police came calling. Esmé had just giggled. “He's a lover, not a fighter,” she said.
My mother should be worried about me, not drooling over a boyfriend,
Vivian thought, forgetting the number of times Esmé had come tapping at her bedroom door only to be shunned.

Gregory announced this evening's selection, “No One Lives Forever,” by Oingo Boingo. Vivian rolled her golden eyes and hoped that whoever had donated the CD had been forced to listen to them practice. She turned her back on them, but her rejection didn't make them hesitate.

Even Ulf joined in these serenades, although he talked even less than usual nowadays. Gabriel had taken him in, according to Gregory, who had looked envious as he told her.

“Yeah, calls him little brother,” Finn had mocked, but Vivian had seen a rare, fleeting smile on Ulf's face.

“Ass kisser,” Gregory had accused affectionately, spitting at Ulf.

Everyone was happy except her.

“Come on, Vivie,” Willem called through the window, startling her. “Come for a run in the woods.” She hadn't even realized that the song was over.

“No,” she answered without turning to face him. “And
you
wouldn't stay out after curfew if you were smart.” She heard his sigh.

The boys left the roof quietly.

Downstairs the front door slammed and Esmé's laughter floated up from below. After a brief pause, Vivian heard the cadence of Esmé's steps up the stairs and then the predictable knock at her bedroom door.

“Vivian, honey?” Esmé's voice was tentative. “Haven't you been downstairs today?”

Vivian didn't answer. She felt mean, but she didn't want to talk.

“Vivian!” Esmé's voice was sharp. “Stop being a jerk. So what if you're stuck. Deal with it.”

“That's easy for you to say,” Vivian shot back.

“Oh, baby.” Esmé sounded contrite. “We'll soon be up in Vermont. It'll be better there. You'll be able to get more fresh air.”

“Instead of being ‘the secret in the upstairs room,' you mean?”

“Oh, have it your own way,” Esmé snapped, and Vivian heard her retreat downstairs.

A tapping on her window frame made her start.
What do they want now?
she thought angrily, and turned to tell the boys to get lost.

Gabriel stood outside.

She ran to the window and tried to close it, but with one hand and little effort he stopped her. His eyes were dark stars, his expression unreadable.

“Once upon a time,” he said in a voice that was velvet thunder, “I killed the girl I loved.”

Other books

Half World by Hiromi Goto
Frozen by Jay Bonansinga
Slow Burn by G. M. Ford
The Reluctant Communist by Charles Robert Jenkins, Jim Frederick
Blossoms on the Roof by Rebecca Martin
Putting Out Fires by Marie Sexton
Red Clover by Florence Osmund