Not Your Ordinary Wolf Girl (24 page)

Françoise buried her head in her husband's chest and took a ragged breath.
“Mon pauvre fils,”
she whispered.

“We regret everything,” said Pierre. “Beyond regret. We're going to make all of this right. Owen won't bite any more girls.”

“I'll believe you when he's in a different hemisphere,” I told him.

Pierre didn't say anything more, just took his wife's hand and hurried up the stairs.

I didn't tell them that Marlon was the one who bit me. There was time for that after Marlon recovered. And he should be the one to tell them. The Lebruns needed to face the truth about their family together.

Outside, I left my bike locked up and waved down a cab. The driver stopped for me, despite the fact that I looked like a maniac with a sword and a guitar. You have to love New York sometimes.

The driver clearly recognized me, because he kept peeking in the rear-view mirror—it always happened at the worst times. When I ignored him, he launched into a monologue about how much his three teenage daughters went crazy over my music, and how he thought I had some talent and should be singing my own songs, not hiding behind Jules. I murmured something about giving that a shot someday. Maybe he was right.

When we pulled up to my building, I paid and signed the back of a fast-food napkin with a mysterious stain on it. Heaving Joan and the sword onto my shoulder like a couple of baseball bats, I hauled myself up to my place. No sign of Queenie. It was hard to protect her when she wouldn't stay put. I guess that
was how Marlon felt about me. She'd left all the dishes and garbage from the pizza and arranged a bouquet of white lilies on the table, with an opened card underneath them. I hadn't given her permission to open my mail!

I read the card: “S— These made me think of you. Hoping you'll let me take you out again sometime. —H”

Harris must have come back to drop these off. He was so normal. So human. Part of me really wanted to go back in time and be just like him. I forced myself to walk through the apartment, double-checking all the locks and windows. It felt like a useless process. Maybe Daniel could show me how to make an apartment werewolf-proof?

I leaned the sword on the side of my tub, ran a cold bath, and dumped in a bunch of lavender salts. I scrubbed off all the blood and soaked until the water got warm from my inner wolf furnace. My new cuts and sore leg were almost healed, but if I wasn't careful my entire body was going to end up criss-crossed with battle scars.

After the bath, I tried calling Marlon. He didn't answer. No surprise. I had no cell number for Daniel, just the number for the bookstore. I lugged my weapon over to the couch, pulled out Joan, and started playing.
Music was the only thing that could shut out all the bad thoughts. Still, I'd never be able to sleep until I knew Owen was far, far away from here.

Fifteen minutes later my phone beeped. I pounced, but it was only a text from Vinnie, reminding me about the rehearsal tomorrow night and saying that
The
Wanda Show
was
GOLDEN
and that we
COULDN'T BUY
PROMO LIKE THAT
.

I wrote back:
WILL B THERE, UNLESS I'M DEAD
.

Let him interpret that however he wanted.

I also sent a text to Malika and Jules:
GUYS, SORRY
4 EVERYTHING THESE PAST FEW DAYS. I LOVE U. PLS
HAVE PATIENCE W ME AS I GO THRU SOME CHANGES.
XO

Mali responded immediately:
LUV U 2. ASKED THE
LADY FOR A DRINK TMRW. SHE SAID YES!

I wrote her back saying
GOOD LUCK
, though she didn't need any.

Jules also texted:
UR A BITCH SOMETIMES
BUT CHANGE = GOOD. SRY ABT WANDA K. WE'RE
COMRADES 4VER, ABOVE ALL ELSE. :)

Maybe someday I could tell Jules the truth? Just as I was writing her back, the door flew open. The next second I was on my feet, brandishing the sword like I knew what to do with it.

“Whoa,” drawled Queenie, shoving back her hood to let her furry face breathe. “Stand down, soldier.”

I dropped the blade. “Oops, sorry.”

“I found my girl Rosa. She was huddled in a drafty corner of the squat …”

Rosa hobbled into the apartment. She was short, about sixteen, and wore a long flowing skirt that dragged on the ground. There were streaks on her cheeks from crying, and her straight black bob was a matted mess.

“Hey,” she mumbled.

“Hello, Rosa,” I said, making sure not to stare at her legs. They were oddly bent beneath the skirt. I pictured the lupine equivalent of a satyr. Maybe this was how those old myths got started? If there were half-wolves, maybe there were half-goats somewhere in the world. “You must be exhausted.”

She nodded.

“I wish I had more beds. I need to do something about that.”

“Sofa's mine,” said Queenie, running over and flopping down.
Nice.

“Well, I've got an air mattress one of you can sleep on tonight. We'll figure out something more permanent tomorrow. I'm just glad you're both safe.” I handed
Rosa a towel. “Feel free to wash up. There's food in the fridge.”

“Yep,” said Queenie. “Stocked up on flesh.”

“Thanks,” said Rosa quietly.

“So, did you find out anything about Sue?” Queenie asked me.

“Or my sister, Dalia?” said Rosa. “She's like us and went missing, too.”

I wondered how the sisters had ended up in this situation. Were their parents trying to find them? Both girls in front of me waited expectantly.

I told them everything that happened at Marlon's place.

“Are we really safe?” Rosa asked, eyes darting around the room.

“I've got this sword. And if he gets on that plane, then yes.”

Queenie's lip quivered. “Sue's dead, isn't she?”

“She might not be,” I said, knowing I sounded unconvincing.

Glumly, Rosa went into the bathroom.

I was now running a home for wayward weregirls. How was I going to explain that to my mom? Speaking of Mom … I sent her an email, saying I'd visit tomorrow, then sat down at the kitchen table with Joan and played a few bars, but couldn't concentrate.
Just when I thought my head was going to explode, the door buzzed. I doubted that Owen would buzz, so who—?

“It's me,” said Marlon through the intercom. “Can I come up?”

I realized it was the second time that I'd felt extremely relieved he was still alive. I stepped out of the apartment to meet him as he exited the elevator.

He wore a loose T-shirt and pants. Dark shadows ringed his eyes. Scratch marks were visible on his arms and neck. A herbal smell wafted over me.

“Wow, I can't believe you're walking around. How are you?”

“Healing.”

His eyes flicked to the door.

“I've got two guests now,” I said. I was reluctant to let Marlon meet my new roommates. Would they be afraid of him?

“Oh,” he said, propping himself against the wall for support. “Thanks for calling Daniel. I needed his help, even if I didn't want it. His family is also helping to hunt for Owen, but they haven't been able to find him.”

My heart thumped hard. I could imagine Queenie and Rosa eavesdropping and panicking at this news.

He winced. “Daniel will lord this over me for a long time. He's already demanding my help in return.”

“Help with what?”

“Working in the bookstore. Stocking shelves. Research. And other stuff.”

“He's making you do community service?”

He scowled. “Kind of.”

I almost laughed, but I couldn't forget. “You lied to me.”

He shut his eyes for a moment. Then he looked at me.

“You didn't kill me,” I said. “I'm all right.” Why was I trying to make him feel better?

“But I could have. I can't stop replaying it in my mind.”

“Actually, I'm more than all right,” I added. As soon as I said that, I knew it was true. And I knew that I didn't want him to go. I stepped closer and pulled his head down to mine. The kiss didn't end until my back was up against the wall and his hands were beneath my shirt. Nothing else mattered.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, pulling away slightly. “That night, in the park, I thought I had everything under control. I was there to stop my brother from doing something horrible. I knew that he'd become obsessed with the idea of finding a mate, and he was especially interested in you. Your music, your lone-wolf image, drew him to you. But then I saw you, and you smelled
so good, and the wolf took over. I still don't understand what happened. What I did, Sam … It's terrifying. I couldn't tell you or my parents. I was so ashamed. So I let you blame Owen. And he went along with it. I should have told you the truth from the beginning.”

“You're right.” I could've been furious with him. But I wasn't.

His mouth tilted upward in a thin smile. I traced his lips with a finger.

“I've never attacked anyone like that,” he said. “Not since I was a kid. When Owen jumped on you, I—I thought I might lose you to him. I couldn't let that happen. I'm going to tell my parents.”

“I know what it's like to lose control. How scary that is.”

I felt like I was losing control right now. It was either kiss him again or … His phone rang.

“It's my father.” Marlon spoke for a moment.

“They found Owen,” he told me after he hung up. “They're on the hunt. Lower East Side. Near Tompkins Square Park.”

That was by the squat. Was Owen looking for new girls who lived there because he thought nobody cared what happened to them? Or was he searching for the weregirls he'd already created to cover his tracks?

“Hold on,” I told Marlon. I threw open my
apartment door and tore around, grabbing my keys and the sword, which I wrapped in a large cloth shopping bag. On my way out I yelled, “I'll be back soon! Stay here. Owen's been spotted downtown.”

I should have realized they'd react the same way I did. Queenie surged over the back of the couch, pulling on her hoodie as she ran toward me, barking, “I'm coming with!” She'd never looked more wolfish. Rosa hobbled out of the bathroom, moving faster than I thought possible on those legs. Her hair was still wet.

They were steps behind me when I left. Marlon saw the keys in my hand, then the mutant girls behind me, and started shaking his head. “No way! This is too dangerous.”

“You really think you can stop us?” I asked. “It's three wolves against one, and I'm packing the silver.”

He hesitated, rubbing his injured shoulder.

“Who wants your brother behind bars more than us?” snapped Queenie.

“Yeah. Let's go,” snarled Rosa. “I'm
not
staying behind.”

I grabbed Marlon's arm and tugged him toward the stairwell. He shook his head one last time then rushed past me down the stairs, with the three of us close on his heels.

We didn't make it a block before an empty cab
paused, trolling for customers. Marlon opened the door, hollering at the driver, “There's a huge tip in your future if you can get us to Tompkins Square Park in fifteen minutes.”

Queenie, Rosa, and I piled into the backseat next to Marlon. We whipped through the quiet streets. Marlon texted Daniel along the way. When we got out, Marlon sniffed around and quickly found Pierre behind a tree in the park. Marlon's dad froze when he noticed the other girls.

“Owen's work?” he asked.

I nodded. “Queenie and Rosa, meet Pierre Lebrun. Technically, he's your pack leader.”

The girls stared at him.

“Soon our pack will be bigger than the Rojas,” Pierre muttered as he crossed the street and hurried down East Ninth, moving away from the square. “We're downwind, but we still need to be careful he doesn't see us approach.”

“Daniel's on his way,” said Marlon.

Beside me, Queenie pulled the strings on her hood so tight that all I could see were her eyes and a tuft of fur. On my other side, Rosa was now running on all fours, canine style. We weren't the stealthiest crew imaginable, but we were hardly the strangest group prowling downtown at this hour.

“You tracked Owen here by scent?” I asked.

“We had some help,” explained Pierre. “Françoise bribed a programmer at the cell company to tell us his location whenever he accessed the service. We've been chasing him around the city, always a step behind, but now we've got him. He hasn't moved since I called Marlon.”

“Is he waiting for someone?” asked Rosa.

Pierre shrugged and pointed at a figure leaning against the metal fence surrounding the Ninth Street Community Garden. Owen was staring across the road at a rundown building that looked like it was boarded up. I noticed Françoise hiding behind a parked car close to us. She gestured that we should stay out of sight.

“He's been watching that building the entire time,” Pierre said.

“The squat,” Rosa hissed.

“We can't let him escape. Sooner or later he'll kill someone,” said Pierre.

“If he hasn't already,” I said.

Pierre nodded curtly. I wondered whether he'd be able to cope with the fact that his own son had ruined so many girls' lives. And that Marlon had also lost control that night, with me.

“Marlon—we'll backtrack and come from Tenth so
that we can surround him from both sides. The rest of you will approach from here. We have to make sure he can't run away.”

The two guys ran around the corner to circle the block. Queenie, Rosa, and I crept up closer to where Françoise was huddled, and I whispered the plan to her. We waited for Marlon and Pierre to poke their heads out up the street. As I watched Owen, I removed the sword from its bag and held it two-handed.