Predator Girl (A Paranormal Romance) (23 page)

I sat in the trees near the strange, curved pond. Something seemed off about this pond—maybe it was the fact it didn’t move or ripple—so I stayed in the shadows of the brush. In Training, we were taught to avoid waterways that looked like this. Coach called them “glass floors,” known for housing sirens, kelpies, and other deadly sea folk.

It was a reminder of the Jackals’ position, their family being stranded here in the Wildlands. I would have to help change that, help get them into better territory away from Mab’s court and other dangerous beasts that thrived here, or Raven wouldn’t turn me. He had pricked my finger, matched my blood type with a couple loose-spills from dad’s collection. Raven was sure they’d come from one of the Rooks. I pondered from which, because if I took it, my wolf form would be identical to whatever wolf the loose-spill came from.

Wolf form.
I shivered. Part of me jumped at this choice.
Do it now. This is a miracle, do it right now,
that part said. But I’d had enough of jumping into decisions.

Was I really going to do this? Give up my life as a human for a girl who might not even want me in five years? Five months?
Yes, you are.
To be honest, that didn’t scare me. If Ilume didn’t love me in five months, I’d find some way to charm her out of it, to make her want me again. I knew I’d never want anyone ordinary now that I’d been with her. She’d have to kill me before I left her side. No, the real problem had to do with my sister. My mom. Peter.

And Raven’s other condition, connected to the first. If I was going to help the Jackals, get them out of the Wildlands, I would have to take charge of the Rooks.

I would have to dethrone Rex.

“Hey, mortal.” A voice interrupted my thoughts.

Bear had emerged from the trees. He smelled the same but now in human form. The kid was a tower, taller than me with a mop’s worth of hair. He sat down a few feet over, watching the glass floor.

“What’s up?” I said.

He shrugged. “You shouldn’t be out in the evenings alone. It’s dangerous, especially here by Dread’s Pond.”

“I’m a Finder,” I replied, leaning back on my hands. “I handle dangerous all the time.”

He snorted. “Dangerous like sea witch dangerous?”

“Is that what’s in there?”

“Her name’s Dreada. The governments don’t know about her yet. We don’t come out here past sunset. She’s known for eating her victims while they’re drowning.” Bear’s eyes hovered on the sun dropping behind the trees. “So. I hear Raven told you about Nick.”

“Unfortunately.”

“He was a good guy, you know—”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. I know.” Why did everyone have to bring him up? “Look, not a good time to talk about my dad right now. I’ve got bigger issues on hand.”

Bear hesitated. “You gonna do it?”

“The change?”

“Yeah. I heard they found a pair of loose-spills among all your dad’s blood samples that matches your blood type, one from the Rooks.”

“They did. And yes, I’m pretty sure I’m going to do it.” I pictured Ilume, at home right now probably crying her eyes out over Rex’s stunt. He was probably sucking up, too, acting like the man who was there for her. It added fuel to my fire. “Does it hurt? You know, when you first change from person to wolf?”

“I don’t know.” Bear’s eyebrows scrunched. “My first change was when I was three, so I don’t exactly remember. I wasn’t there the day Nylref changed that town kid, but it sounded like it was pretty painful. Your bones aren’t used to stretching and reshaping. Then again, the fact he successfully changed might be a one-of-a-hundred thing. We don’t know enough to guarantee you’ll survive.”

Well, that was reassuring news. “Thanks, Bear.” Just because he saved my life didn’t mean I had to like him, and I didn’t need more negative thoughts.

I stood, about to head back for the den when he called, “I don’t think you’ll die from the transfusions.”

I bent down, pulled up the grass-covered hatch to the stairs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you shouldn’t worry about the transformation as much as what comes after it. If you get a crappy loose-spill, Rex will cream you.” Bear smiled, hazel eyes twinkling. “You might need backup.”

Okay, maybe I could learn to like him. I smiled. “Sounds good.”

It was late into the night when Raven found me in an empty sitting room, this one with swords mounted on the wall. I could see how he and Arasni were related—they not only looked similar, they always seemed to know where you were.

“Have you made a decision?” he asked, calm.

My stomach turned, nervous, but I said, “Yeah. I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

“All right then. Come.” The Jackal turned, gliding into the hall.

He led me downward, into the deepest part of the den. It reminded me of my basement, smelling like mold and stale air. Raven opened a door with five large bolts on the outside. What, did he keep a monster in this room?

No monsters, it turned out, just Cheetah sitting at a desk with the loose-spills and some rubber gloves. And a colossal cage made of iron.

Bear stood behind the cage door, holding it open. He smirked at me. I think the blood left my face. “Humans first,” Bear said.

“I’m going in there?” I loved how people kept leaving these little facts out. “Why there?”

“We don’t know how you’ll react the first time. It’s just a precaution.” Cheetah pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, snapping them loudly. “Don’t worry.”

“You can still back out,” Raven reminded.

I shook my head. “I can’t back out.”

“Then in you go.” Bear bowed, making a sweeping motion into the cage. I gave his head a light smack as I passed by. He laughed.

The cage door squeaked then clicked shut. My head brushed the cold, hard ceiling. Déjà vu. I took a deep breath.
For Ilume.
Cheetah and Raven prepared tubes, first sending Bear outside to guard the door.
What will I look like?
I hoped Bear was wrong about the pain, about me getting a crappy loose-spill. I needed to be a big wolf, something that could take on Rex.

Cheetah took my left arm. I couldn’t watch as the needle went into my vein. Call me a girl, but shots, needles—they make me kind of woozy. As a kid, I wailed every time I had to get boosters. Mom figured my fear of needles meant I’d stay away from drugs.

“Am I going to thrash around like a demented person?” I had to ask.

She made a hyena noise, grinning. “Hopefully not. The nice thing is your foot will heal up at warp speed.”

“Oh. Good.”

The injection didn’t hurt. It was when the needle came out that the burning started. I gritted my teeth as the heat spread down my elbow and into my shoulder. My arm felt heavy.

“Deep breaths,” she coached, returning to the desk.

I pressed against the back bars, squeezing my forearm. “Ouch. Damn, is it supposed to feel like this?”

“I don’t know.” She snapped her gloves off, tossed them in a garbage bin. “Aspen’s reaction wasn’t very pleasant.”

“Fantastic.”

My arm went from feeling heavy to feeling like it was lying on a stove. The burning sensation dripped into my throat and chest, making it hard to breathe. I pawed at my neck, trying not to panic, but all the while I kept thinking,
What if Bear was right?

What if I was going to die?

“Stop panicking,” Cheetah ordered. Raven had left the room. She sat down against the bookshelves on the opposite wall, far away. “If you panic, you’ll make yourself worse. First transformations are always the hardest.”

But I was panicking. Every time I tried to speak, there wasn’t enough air.
What if this is a mistake?
My mouth was dry again, heart heaving. Then the lava made its way into my bones. I crippled over and screamed to clear my throat. The migraine hit. My skull blazed below my grasp. Fur started to sprout out of my skin. Soft gold fur. The color was so similar to . . .

Holy hell.
My fingers began to crack and reshape, giving me paws the size of grizzly feet. If I survived this, I was going to be huge. Golden. Much like someone else I knew. Someone I never wanted to be like.

Oh, my God.
You’ve got to be shitting me.
I was big and strong enough to take on Rex alone, but nonetheless, at that moment, I would’ve killed for a different loose-spill.

I froze. A leather bustier sat atop my intimates. Smooth and black, it still had the tags on it, a pair of leather panties attached to a lace garter.

“Son of a bitch,” I growled, grabbing up the monstrosity. Wadding it into a ball, I threw it as hard as I could. It slapped the wall and tumbled right into the trash bin. I resumed packing, spitting out cuss words all the while.

I didn’t notice the door creak open. When a warm smell hit me, I jerked around.

“Lume?” The tiny boy from the care center peeked at me.

“Hawthorn.”

He pushed the door open, coming in. “Have you seen Jared?”

“Um.” I swallowed, feeling daggers in my chest. Clearly no one had told him, and I planned on keeping it that way. He was so young and had lost so much already. “I haven’t. He’s probably out walking again.”

He looked up at me with accusing eyes. “No,” he whispered. “It’s afternoon. Jared comes to see me in afternoons, not walk.”

My lip trembled. I turned to my bag so he couldn’t watch me fight the tears. “Go back to the care center, hon. Just wait. You’ll see him again.” In a different lifetime maybe.

Hawthorn touched my dresser, running his stubby fingers over the designs. “No,” he murmured. Water rimmed his eyes. His tiny hands rolled into fists.

I lost my cool. Bending down I held my arms out. “Come here, kiddo,” I said, voice uneven.

His face wilted as he wrapped his arms around my neck. I rocked him, just like my mom did with me when I was his age. Hawthorn sniffled and soon pulled away. His tears slowed. I realized he was sniffing the air. He looked toward Rex’s laundry basket, which hadn’t gone down in weeks, piling up against his dresser. Before I could stop him, he’d wiggled out of my grasp.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I asked.

No reply. He pulled clothes down—Rex’s dirty jeans, t-shirts, jackets. When he grabbed a sweater sleeve, an avalanche came down over the top of him.

“Hey!” I jumped up.

“I smell something,” Hawthorn declared, clawing his way out. “It smells like him. I smell him!”

“What?” My face wrinkled in confusion. “Smell who? Rex?”

“No, no!” Hawthorn latched onto the basket, tipping it over. An array of dark fabrics spewed out onto the floor, reeking of fish and water and other things Rex had gotten into while hunting.

“Okay, that’s enough. You’re going to get me in trouble.” If Rex opened the door right now, what would I say? It was a little kid just having a tantrum? “Come on, Hawthorn, I’ll take you back downstairs.”

“No, wait!” he cried as I picked him up.

His nails morphed into tiny claws. He scratched at my arms, squirming.

“Ouch! Stop that!” I ordered. “Rex is going to be back soon I have to—”

I stopped. Hawthorn fell still. My nose flared as I smelled it now, a salty aroma that didn’t belong to Rex. It wasn’t from the lake water or the mud either. The scent had a familiar snap to it, like cologne and fresh pine. I’d come to know that scent too well.

Setting the child down, I dug through the laundry. Hawthorn joined me. At the bottom of the pile, under a dusty jacket, we found the source of the smell. I picked up a pair of jeans. A pocket had a blood stain smeared over it, like Rex had wiped a hand on his pants. Bringing it close to my face, I sniffed. Jared’s blood.

“Lume?” Hawthorn backed away from me.

Dark fur crept out of my skin. My nails went black and jagged, poking holes in the fabric as I squeezed the jeans. How could I have missed this?

I stood up. Dropping the jeans, I told Hawthorn, “Stay.”

He nodded. Turning on my heel, I marched down the hallway.

My humanity snapped at its roots.
He’s going to pay.
A growl built in my throat. By the time I’d hit the stairs I was running. I blew through the screen door, breaking a hinge and startling the group on the porch. I gave into the change, racing through the woods, following Rex’s trail.