Authors: Tammy Blackwell
The day after the full moon, my dream took
me to a restaurant. It was the fancy kind with actual cloth table
cloths and napkins. I could hear and feel other people, but I
couldn’t see them. All I could see was the Texan with blue eyes and
dishwater blond hair who sat across from me.
“
Scout,” he said by way of
greeting.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I tried to
open my mouth, but it wouldn’t budge. An attempt to get up and
leave was also unsuccessful. I was trapped.
“
It’s been a while. I
haven’t seen you since…” A quirk of the lips. “Well, you
know.”
Tears were hot against my cheeks. I wanted
to sob, but none of my muscles worked.
“
How does it feel to kill
someone?” He leaned closer, no more false amusement on his face.
His eyes were hard and accusing. “Did you like it? Did you like the
feel of the gun in your hand? Did you enjoy watching me
die?”
I tried to shake my head, but it still
wouldn’t move.
“
You did, didn’t you? You
murdered me, and you liked it.” He wasn’t yelling or raging, which
made it worse. The calm accusations, the absolute certainty he was
right in his voice. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I was
truly sorry. That I would take it all back if I could.
When I woke it wasn’t sudden, although my
heart did pound frantically in my chest. The guilt weighed heavy in
my stomach and clogged up my throat.
No wonder Charlie zombied
out on me,
I thought. When I shot Travis it
was a situation of kill or be killed. There is no doubt in my mind
I did the right thing, the only thing that could be done, and yet I
couldn’t shake these dreams or mend the rip in my soul that ending
another life caused. How much worse had it been for Charlie who
didn’t have the small comfort of knowing it was self-defense? How
much worse would I feel if I thought I killed Travis in a fit of
rage?
I found Liam sprawled across the other bed
when I finally sat upright. Of course, an argument could be made he
was actually comatose instead of merely asleep. The motel was one
of those places which had been standing since 1950 and hadn’t found
the need or money for any updates since. I tried to be quiet as I
went about my business, but with ancient plumbing and doors in dire
need of WD40, it was basically impossible. Yet, when I emerged from
the bathroom, as clean as one can be when the water smells of rust
and they only own three outfits, Liam was still in the same
position, his eyes closed against the afternoon sun.
I rummaged through the multiple fast food
bags littering the room, feeling more than a little like a
victorious hunter when I discovered an uneaten sausage biscuit
hidden in their depths. With nothing else to do, I sat down,
devoured my kill, and watched Liam.
There was a time when I thought Liam was
just a bigger, angrier version of Alex. Upon closer inspection, I
realized they looked quite different. I mean, anyone who saw them
would know without a doubt they were brothers, but they could
hardly pass as twins. Liam’s hair was starting to grow out, making
the red tint absent in Alex’s shaggy brown mane, more evident.
Their bone structure was similar, but Liam’s jaw was more
pronounced and boasted a line of stubble. And while their eyes were
the exact same shade, Liam’s were shaped differently and his
lashes, while not as thick, were much longer.
Alex was beautiful. Liam could never be
called beautiful. It was much too tame a word. Handsome didn’t seem
right either. Arresting. That was the word to describe Liam’s look.
He was arresting.
He was also awake.
“
Scout?”
I’m not sure when I got up out of the chair
and moved onto the edge of his bed, but that was where I was. And
that was certainly my now unbroken hand stretched out, frozen just
inches from his face.
“
I’m hungry,” I said, as if
it made the whole Creeper Scout thing okay.
Liam sat up, rubbing his face. I found my
way back to the chair as quickly as possible, which for a Shifter
the day after the full moon means really freaking fast.
“
Want to order some
pizzas?”
“
Sounds perfect!” I was
doing that really fast, high-pitched talking thing girls do. I
wanted to slap myself. Liam looked as if he might volunteer to do
the deed for me.
After much discussion, some of it actually
done in a normal, non-spastic voice, we ordered two large pizzas,
an order of breadsticks, two orders of wings, and something they
called a s’mores pizza, which I had reservations about. Liam sat
some cash on the dresser once the order was placed and disappeared
into the shower.
I gleefully passed the time by watching the
Cartoon Network. When Liam had control of the TV, which was anytime
he was around a TV, we watched The Weather Channel nonstop. An
obsession with weather patterns was apparently a Cole thing,
because Alex was always Johnny-on-the-spot with the forecast,
although, it could have just been because he spent so much time
with his brother. I can’t even pretend to care about high pressure
systems or rotating storms, but after a couple of days with Liam I
was able to talk dew points with the best of them.
I was watching a new show - the premise had
something to do with talking appliances and a suicidal microwave
oven - when the pizza guy came knocking.
“
That’ll be fifty-seven
even,” the guy said without looking up. He was really overweight
and somehow managed to balance all the food on a fat roll with one
hand while he held the receipt in the other. I wasn’t sure what the
proper etiquette was when it came to grabbing your dinner off a
guy’s stomach. I started to reach for it, but chickened out at the
last minute when it became obvious I might have to actually touch
some part of him. He apparently saw me going in, thought I had it,
and let go.
If I was a normal girl, the food would have
hit the floor.
If I was thinking, the food would have hit
the floor.
No food hit the floor.
“
Holy shit!” Pizza Guy
exclaimed. “How did you do that? You were like The Flash,
dude.”
“
Ummm… I work out?” I
straightened back up slowly, as if the action would somehow negate
the super-human swiftness I exhibited saving my pizza from a tragic
end. I looked up, hoping my somewhat embarrassed smile would keep
Pizza Guy from asking any more questions. Once I met his eyes, I
realized that wasn’t going to be a problem. He was too busy doing
the open-mouthed-staring-at-Scout thing people tend to
do.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood to deal
with it. “Yes, I’m pale. Yes, this is my real eye color. No, I
don’t dye or bleach my hair to make it look like this.” I shoved
the money towards him. “No change needed. Thanks.”
He didn’t take the hint.
“
You’re her.” His eyes had
grown huge behind the tops of his cheeks. “You’re her. That girl.”
He waved his hand impatiently in front of him. “What’s your
name?”
I relaxed my face and willed it not to
flush. “Elizabeth,” I said, giving the response Liam had drilled
into me.
“
No, that’s not
it.”
“
Ummm… I think I know my
own name.” My heart was going all kinds of crazy in my chest. Who
was this guy? He didn’t smell like a Shifter, and Liam said we were
at least a hundred miles from the Chase Pack’s den.
“
No, really.” He was
clearly getting very frustrated. “You’re that chick on
TV.”
I laughed. It was just one loud burst, more
of a squawk than a laugh really, but it was the first one to escape
in longer than I could remember. “Nope. That’s not me.” I looked
over my shoulder at the motel room with its stained
once-was-shag-but-is-now-matted carpet and mismatched bedspreads.
“I mean, would I be standing here in this room if I was?”
He didn’t seem convinced. “I can help you,”
he stage whispered. “I’ll get you out of here.”
He didn’t reek of pot, so he hadn’t been
smoking. My money was on pills. Lots and lots of pills.
“
It’s alright,” I assured
him. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
He still didn’t budge. I thought I was going
to have to literally push him out the door when Liam stepped out of
the bathroom.
“
Who are you?” Liam asked
in his oh-so-friendly manner.
“
Pizza Guy,” I answered
since Pizza Guy seemed frozen to the spot and incapable of speech.
I suppose a six and a half foot tall glowering muscle man probably
has that effect on some people. “He was just leaving.”
Liam came up behind me and put one hand on
the top of the door. “Thanks. See ya,” he said, nudging Pizza Guy
out with the door. Once we heard him shuffle back to his car, which
was several long minutes later, Liam turned his glare on me. “What
were you doing?”
“
Getting our
dinner?”
That, apparently, was the wrong answer.
“
What part of ‘in hiding’
don’t you understand?”
“
The part where I hide from
Pizza Guy?” Was he seriously yelling at me for getting our food?
“What was I supposed to do there, Oh Wise One?”
“
Hand him the money, take
the boxes, and shut the door. There was no need for
discussion.”
In a move of utmost maturity, I rolled my
eyes. “Oh, for the love of all things shiny, not all of us can
survive in the real world with glares and few well placed grunts.
We have to rely on speech and social norms.”
He turned the normal Liam glare up a few
notches so it appeared laser beams were about to shoot out of his
eyes. I’ve spent my whole life dealing with bullies - when you look
like an escapee from the circus freak show they’re pretty much a
staple in your life - so he didn’t scare me… much.
“
Come on, Liam.” I used my
talking-to-a-two-year-old voice. “Use your words.”
“
How about these words?
You. Screwed. Up.”
I wanted to throw something, but since my
arms were loaded with the food I fully intended on eating, I
restrained myself. I did, however, growl and stomp my foot.
“
What? You think Pizza Guy
is a spy for the Alpha Pack? That Sarvarna and her army is going to
descend on the motel while we sleep?”
A much more impressive growl escaped from
Liam’s throat. “I told you not to talk to anyone.”
“
You’re not the boss of
me,” I said, borrowing a phrase from my seven year old
sister.
Liam leaned forward, his nose hovering just
inches from mine. I could feel the Dominance leaking off him,
charging the air with feral energy. “Yes, I am.”
I rose up on my tip-toes, as if that would
make me seem bigger and more intimidating. “No, you’re not.” I
flashed my teeth, a sure sign Wolf Scout was in control. “I’m not
going to come to heel like some whipped puppy just because you’ve
got your panties in a bunch.” My hands flexed as if my claws were
trying to make a reappearance. “He was just a guy delivering pizza.
It’s no big deal.”
“
And if you’re
wrong?”
“
Then I’ll get down on my
knees and kiss your feet while begging for forgiveness.”
He pulled back, and the energy in the room
calmed. “Food,” he said, holding out a hand. Since there was no
cheese to hold the “double all the meat” on his pizza, I made sure
to give the box a good shake as I passed it over.
Chapter 3
The knock at the door sounded like gunfire
to my super-sensitive ears. My nostrils flared, trying to decipher
who it could be, as Liam pulled back the edge of the curtain.
Hide!
he mouthed, looking back at me in alarm.
We were still in the
world’s oldest and dirtiest motel somewhere just past the the
Colorado border. The beds were the kind with wood panels along the
edges, blocking the obvious hiding spot.
Where?
I mouthed back. Not like it
would matter where I hid if it was a member of the Alpha Pack, but
my nose was telling me it was just a normal human. I could smell a
manly smell - a mixture of Old Spice and natural eau de boy - along
with coffee, fried food and sugar. There was no hint of a wolf
scent underneath, nor the tickle of power other Shifters and Seers
give off.
Liam looked around for a second before
nodding at the paneled ceiling above the sink alcove. Lycan
strength made it possible for me to hop onto the vanity, slide back
the tile, and hoist my body up in a matter of seconds. I was just
sliding the tile back home when the pounding on the door started up
a second time.
“
Can I help you, Officer?”
Liam’s voice drifted through the ceiling where I was folded up like
a burrito. There wasn’t a lot of space between the the little drop
down ceiling and the actual roof. Added onto the burden of having
roughly a three foot by four foot by one foot space to squeeze in
my five foot eight inch frame into, I had to be careful where I put
my weight. I’m thinking even the most clueless of police officers
could find me if I came crashing down through the
ceiling.
I fastidiously ignored the inch of dust and
grime covering every inch of the crawlspace and the scampering
noises.
“
I’m following up on a tip
we received this morning,” came the voice of a man who sounded to
be older than dad age, but not quite grandfather age. “Mind if I
come in?”
The door hissed against the carpet and the
smell of coffee and donuts got stronger.
Seriously? The cop smells
of coffee and donuts?
I had to bite my lip
to keep from laughing out loud.