Wild (17 page)

The clothes were simple, but looked expensive, some designer brand or another. Oddly, that relaxed her a little. She’d grown up with designer brands; her mum loved her fancy labels and one-off handbags. Watching Seth pull on an expensive t-shirt took her back, reminded her that she hadn’t always been pill-popping, battered-girlfriend Lizzie.

“Where are we going?” she asked when he opened the passenger door for her. She hated other people driving, always got carsick.

“To my gran’s house.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Bit soon to be meeting the family, isn’t it?”

He smiled. “Trust me, Lizzie, Nuala’s the oldest, most respected wolf in Liverpool. If she likes you, you’re fine.”

She hesitated a second longer. “And if she doesn’t like me?” Suddenly she felt self-conscious again, hyperaware of her mud-stained, non-designer clothes.

“She will,” Seth said firmly. “She’ll like you because I like you. And I’m her favourite grandson. So don’t look so worried, okay?”

Lizzie nodded. Okay.

****

Nuala lived in Childwall, in one of those grand houses that proclaimed through high hedges and pale brickwork that the owner had money, and plenty of it. Lizzie ran her hands through her dishevelled curls and patted down her t-shirt, feeling every inch the filthy urchin come begging for scraps. Seth glanced at her as they approached the front door. “You’ll be fine,” he assured her, brushing her arm lightly. The contact sent a static shock through her. She nodded, not trusting her voice.

The house was dark, barring a single, low light downstairs, glowing behind heavy curtains. Lizzie concentrated on that light as she followed Seth across the lawn. The damp grass was cool underfoot and the Other stirred a little at the smell of rain-washed earth. Lizzie gritted her teeth and ignored it. She didn’t want the wolf. Even thinking about the Other made her think about Nick and Harris –

Stop, she ordered herself. One disaster at a time, yeah? Let’s focus on surviving the Kurtadam first.

“Lizzie?” Seth was by the front door, fumbling in his pockets. “Come on.”

She hurried to join him, shaking from cold, nausea twisting in her stomach. The werewolf aristocracy. Fucking hell, this could only end badly.
Stupid, stupid. I should have run. I shouldn’t have even got in the car.
Lost for the sake of some nice abs and a good smile…

Seth unlocked the front door and Lizzie trailed him down the hall towards the lounge where the low light burned. She felt horribly out of her depth. Doubt suddenly assailed her – what if they’d brought her here to kill her? What if Nick was right and they’d just … take her out, cement boots, watery grave, just like that? She resisted the urge to rake her nails up and down her coat sleeves.

The low light proved to be a fire, flickering cheerfully in a stone hearth. In keeping with the outer elegance of the house, the lounge was stylish, in an old-fashioned way. Lots of sepia photos of ladies with parasols and men with big moustaches. Burnished gold candlesticks and pale pink roses in slender china vases. It reminded Lizzie of home, everything spick and span, and subtly expensive.

An old woman huddled under a tartan blanket in an overstuffed armchair near the fire. White hair spilled over her shoulders, thick and gleaming in the firelight. Sharp dark eyes watched Lizzie as she approached, and Lizzie felt herself being assessed and judged. And probably found wanting.

Nuala had been beautiful once, Lizzie decided. Old age had honed her into something sterner. Still beautiful, but remote and untouchable now, like a fine work of art.

“Nuala, this is Lizzie,” Seth said, gesturing for Lizzie to sit down. “Lizzie, this is Nuala O’Brien, my gran.”

Lizzie sat on the very edge of the floral patterned sofa, far too wired to make herself comfortable. She glanced at Seth, who sat down next to her and, to her surprise, took her hand. His touch was solid, warm, and she found herself relaxing. Why he’d decided to champion her, she had no idea, but she was infinitely grateful just then.

She realised Nuala was still staring at her coolly, waiting for her to speak. “Alright,” Lizzie said, eloquence escaping her. She scratched her leg and looked down at the floor. “Nice to meet you.”

“So you’re our new little Vargulf,” Nuala said, a faint Irish lilt making her words pretty despite her cold tone. “Tell me, Lizzie, how do you like the werewolf lifestyle?”

Lizzie tried to answer a couple of times. Both times her throat was too dry, the words stuck in her throat. She looked helplessly at Seth, who smiled encouragingly at her. “It’s a big adjustment. Ma’am,” she added, remembering her manners. Her mum had always told her to respect her elders. She supposed that held true for werewolf elders too.

“I understand you’ve taken up with one of the local Vargulfs,” Nuala said. “Nick Doyle. Running wild, chasing ghouls…”

“I –” Lizzie bit her lip to stop herself snapping. She didn’t think Nuala would approve of backchat. She softened her tone and tried again. “I’ve been stupid, I know. I mean, I didn’t know anything about Vargulfs or Kurtadam or ghouls. I didn’t even know werewolves existed until I became one. Nick was there. Nobody else was.”

“And you know Nick,” Seth chimed in. “He’s a smooth talker, Gran. He probably never told Lizzie she could come to us for help.”

He bloody didn’t, no. Lizzie struggled to keep her composure at that little revelation. Nick had kept that to himself, hadn’t he? “He told me you’d kill me if you found me,” she said. “Or use me for experiments.”

Nuala barked with laughter. “Kill you? My dear girl, the Kurtadam are not common murderers! We’re not animals.”

“The difference between Vargulf and Kurtadam is that we’ve chosen to be humans first, and werewolves second,” Seth explained, massaging Lizzie’s fingers as he spoke. The contact sent a frisson of tension through her, not at all unpleasant. “Vargulfs like Nick are more interested in the … baser side of werewolf nature.”

Lizzie wet her lips. “But you still change shape, don’t you? You still get all hairy and run around hunting rats at the full moon, surely?” She didn’t know what she wanted the answer to be. Part of her hoped Seth would tell her, “no,” they didn’t have to change unless they wanted to, they’d found a way to control the shapeshifting. And part of her, the part that had thrilled in the Other’s strength and power, hoped they’d say “yes.” That it was inevitable, fixed in their beings.

“We still change,” Seth confirmed. “Although, watching you and Nick the other night, it seems like you change faster and easier than us.” He shifted on the sofa to look at her, a thoughtful light in his eyes.

She squirmed under his scrutiny. “Nick says it’s the drugs. It lowers your inhibitions and makes the wolf come out easier. More easily,” she corrected herself, glancing at Nuala.

“Interesting theory,” Nuala said. “I’d like to have a proper chat about that with you at some stage, Lizzie. Perhaps tomorrow night, at dinner?” She looked at Seth as she spoke.

Seth sat up straighter, and Lizzie felt a little flush of nervous hope. “Tomorrow night?” Seth echoed. He sounded nervous too, and excited. Tomorrow night was a big deal, apparently.

“Tomorrow night,” Nuala confirmed. She smiled at Lizzie, a little thinly, but a real smile nonetheless. “Once a month, a few of us get together for a meal and few card games. I’m sure it’ll seem terribly dull to you, when you’re used to more … exciting pastimes, but you’re very welcome to join us.”

“You should,” Seth said, gripping Lizzie’s hand tight enough to hurt. “Get to know some of the other Kurtadam. See we’re not so scary.” He grinned.

“What if they hate me?” It slipped out before Lizzie could stop herself. She looked from Seth to Nuala, seeking reassurance. “I mean, I’m not…” She waved her hands around, taking in the elegant décor. “Like this.”

“I don’t know.” Seth patted her knee. “A good bath and some clean clothes, and we’ll have you looking ravishing. Don’t you think so, Gran?”

Nuala nodded. “Yes, of course. Very pretty.”

It should have been incredibly corny, or incredibly insulting. But it was actually the most flattering compliment anyone had paid her since … Well, since she’d hooked up with Harris. And hell, she
was
“like this,” wasn’t she? Underneath, when you stripped away the drugs and abusive boyfriend and every messy, stupid mistake she’d made since she dropped out of university – underneath all that, she was a good girl from a good family, well-educated, full of potential.

Maybe if she dug deep, she could find the old Lizzie and dust her off, dress her up, and make something good out of her life. Being a werewolf didn’t have to be all bad. Perhaps, there was still time to salvage something.

She smiled at Seth, liking the way his eyes lit up when she did. “Tomorrow night,” she said. “I’ll look forward to it.”

She was finally – finally – going to turn her life around.

seventeen

S
ETH INSISTED ON
driving her home. “It’s late. There’s no way you’re walking back by yourself,” he told her when she protested.

It was a token protest anyway. She wasn’t quite ready to give up his company. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this excitement, this hope, about anything. The world felt a little brighter, a little clearer as they said goodbye to Nuala and headed out to Seth’s car. The stars looked closer, the night air smelled sweeter. All the tension and torment of the past days melted away, and Lizzie could have skipped down the path.

Seth held the passenger door open for her again. “So that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked as he slid into the driver’s seat. “I told you Nuala would like you.”

“It was great,” she agreed. “It was … nice.” When had she last done anything
nice
?

“Tomorrow will be good,” he said. “I’m looking forward to you meeting everyone.”

She felt a little jitter of nerves at that. Everyone? How many people was “everyone”? What if they didn’t like her and she couldn’t fit in? Would Seth be embarrassed by her in the cold light of day? For all she knew, this could be some massive joke anyway, some cruel prank on his part to humiliate a dumb, new little Vargulf.

There was always a catch, right?

She studied herself in the flip-down mirror, trying to see what Seth could be so taken with. Well, she certainly looked healthier than she had a few weeks ago, she noted with surprise. Her skin wasn’t as pale, her hair wasn’t as lank. A good bath and a nice dress, and she could compete with any posh bird. Or posh werewolf.

Nerves quelled a little, she turned her attention back to Seth, who was fiddling with the radio, skipping through news channels to settle on a classic rock station. “You like old rock?” he asked her. “Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, any of that?”

She snorted, settling into familiar territory. “I like punk. Real music. The Clash, The Misfits.”

“Makes sense,” he grinned. “You’ve got that non-conformist thing going on, haven’t you?”

They fell into a light-hearted squabble over punk versus metal, and Lizzie found herself laughing – really laughing, with real joy – for the first time in weeks. Seth was too easy to be with. He looked good, he smelt delicious – like the earth after rain, with that deep, wolfy musk she’d come to recognise beneath it all. And he could talk about music too. If it turned out he also liked cowboy films, he was definitely too good to be true. She resolved to enjoy his company as much as possible, just in case.

When he pulled up outside her house, reluctance crept over her. There was a sweet intimacy between them here in the car, the night outside hiding them from the rest of the world. When she left the car, she knew all her doubts and fears would creep back. When she went back in the house, she’d be alone with those doubts and the memory of Harris’s death, Nick’s betrayal. No, she wanted to stay here with Seth, nestled against the butter-soft leather seats, safe.

“Are you okay?” Seth asked softly, resting his hand on her knee. The gesture was supposed to be comforting, she knew, but it triggered a spur of guilt in her. It was too soon to be enjoying herself, surely? Too callous.

“Yeah, just…” She shrugged and offered him a weak smile. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose.” She was being pathetic, trying to prolong their time together. Clingy, needy girls ended up with men like Harris and Nick, didn’t they? They ended up with anyone who’d have them because they were too weak to stand alone. She wasn’t going to be like that anymore.

“Yeah.” He slid his hand off her leg, slowly, maybe teasingly? “I’ll pick you up about seven, if that’s okay?”

“It’s a date,” she said, her smile stronger as the words left her lips. A date. Just like that. She tried to shove the guilt away, just enjoy the moment. “See you tomorrow.”

He brushed a stray curl of her hair away from a cheek, a simple gesture, something Harris and Nick had both done before, but Seth’s touch was lighter, as if she was something precious. Her heart fluttered. “See you tomorrow,” he echoed with a smile.

She lingered in the doorway, watching his car disappear down the street, her skin tingling with the remembrance of his touch. When she couldn’t see his lights anymore, she made herself go inside. The house felt cold and empty, a world away from the elegance and warmth of Nuala’s place. She wondered if Seth lived there, or if he had a swanky pad down by the Docks or something.