Wild (22 page)

“Okay.” He edged towards the door, licking his lips nervously. “Okay, I’m going. I’m going, Lizzie. But you need to think about where you want to be, okay? The Kurtadam might seem all friendly and fun now, but they’ll turn on you sooner or later. Especially if they find out about Harris.”

“Get out!” she screamed, sending him scurrying for the front door. Seconds later it slammed shut, and the smell of wolf vanished, leaving Lizzie alone with her own wolf.

She rubbed her pounding temples, blinking as her vision faded in and out. Such a crappy end to such a good night. It wasn’t fair. Tears threatened, but she wiped them away. No, no, she wasn’t going to cry over this, over Nick. Not a chance.

As she wiped her eyes, she snagged her claws in her hair, pulling out a handful of curls by accident. She swore loudly, examining her hands. Soft black fur sprouted from her palms, flowing up her fingers to cushion the claws. Feeling sick, she raced upstairs to the bathroom to stare at herself in the mirror. As she’d guessed, her eyes glowed red. The same panic she’d felt in town this morning swirled through her, and she turned away from the mirror, unable to look at herself anymore.

All she could do was sob and plead with the Other.
Not now, not here, please.

She couldn’t help thinking of Des and his dire warnings, how vulnerable the Kurtadam were when they shifted. Would he be impressed or freaked out by Lizzie and how she couldn’t
stop
herself shifting?

Okay. This was okay. She’d talked herself down this morning. She’d talked herself back into being human. She could do it again, surely.

She sank to her knees, gripping the bathtub and forcing herself to breathe slowly, deeply. Forcing calm back into her trembling body. She stared at her fingers, shorter and capped with claws, splayed against the creamy white tub. She focused on them as she had the carpet earlier, narrowing her entire world down to the thick black fur and dark claws. She tried to picture them smooth and hairless.

An image flashed into her mind unbidden: her fingers gripping Seth’s shoulders as they kissed, relishing the feeling of his body close and warm against hers. The memory was so strong, so clear she could almost taste him, and she threw herself into it fiercely. Yes, yes, yes, this was her. This was her human body, held against his. She tried to impress that memory upon herself, drive the Other back.

It worked too. She could feel the Other shrinking down inside her, pushed to the back of her head, like a childhood nightmare banished by sunlight. When she dared open her eyes again she saw with human sight, in colour and shade, and her hands were human again. Shaking with relief, she hauled herself to her feet, checking the mirror just to be sure. And yes, there was human Lizzie, looking a little tired and a little wired, but definitely human. She wondered what Seth would say if she told him he’d saved her from her wolf.

But then she remembered Nick’s warning, that the Kurtadam would turn on her eventually, and her relief evaporated. He was lying surely, or paranoid. With the exception of Ingrid, who was clearly just a cow, nobody had treated her badly tonight, nobody had threatened her or made her feel unwelcome.

All this shit about experiments … it was just that. Just nonsense spouted by a paranoid super junkie. Nick was trying to scare her away from the Kurtadam, trying to win her back to his side to stop himself feeling shitty. God, he was just like Harris, wasn’t he? Men like that always needed somebody else to abuse and torment. Made them feel better about themselves.

She chewed her lip, hating them both all over again.
I can’t stay here.
The memory of Harris was too strong, and Nick could waltz back in any time. She needed to get out, find somewhere new that Harris had never been and Nick didn’t know about.

Well that was okay, wasn’t it? She should move out. Why stay here now? It was a dump anyway, paid for with benefits that she could easily spend on somewhere better.

Or not, since she probably couldn’t claim as much benefit anymore, with Harris… gone.

But that was okay too, she assured herself, moving into her bedroom where there was more pacing space. She could get a job. Yeah, that was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? That would shake off the last cobwebs of her old life and launch her firmly into her new one. She hadn’t had a job since she was at sixth form, working in a shoe shop at the weekends to fund nights out with her friends.

I can get a new job. There must be loads of work going in Liverpool. She kicked off her shoes, stripped off her dress. If she was going to go back to uni, she’d need money anyway. She couldn’t imagine her mum paying her tuition fees after she’d dropped out so spectacularly a year ago. She grimaced, irritated with herself. She’d been so stupid, wasted so much time.

She brushed her hair and climbed into bed, ordering herself not to dwell on it. Things were changing, that was the important thing. Her life was changing – for the better. She was sure of that, despite Nick’s appearance tonight.

She fell asleep thinking of Seth, wondering if he was falling asleep thinking of her.

twenty

I
T WAS POURING
with rain the next morning, in typical north-west style. The sky was slate grey, the rain fell in thick, lashing sheets, rattling off the windows and filling both Lizzie and the Other with a bleak sense of claustrophobia.

She couldn’t stay inside all day; she’d go mad. Nothing to do, nothing to watch, nobody to talk to. No space, no light, no air… No. She had to get out, even if it meant getting drenched.

She searched in vain for her umbrella. Did she even own an umbrella? She remembered waiting for Harris in the rain, outside the bombed-out church, the night Nick had attacked her. If she’d had an umbrella then she would have jammed it down Nick’s throat. Smiling grimly, she gave up the hunt and settled for pulling on a Ramones hoodie and shrugging into a battered bomber jacket. With the hood up and jacket on, she felt like she was going on a drugs run, hiding her face, full of guilty intent.

It didn’t help that the kitchen reeked of weed from Nick’s little surprise visit, and the grassy, sweet smell sent a pang of longing through her. It felt like an age had passed since she last took anything; a whole lifetime of chaos and kisses and craziness.

She took a deep breath and stepped outside, letting the torrent of rain drown out the lingering smell of weed. In seconds, she was wet to the skin – her canvas sneakers were a stupid choice in footwear, she wryly conceded as she tramped through the puddles flooding the street. She could feel rainwater sloshing around in the shoes already. Sighing, she tucked a stray curl of hair inside her hood and resigned herself to doing the drowned rat thing.

****

Four hours later, she was heartily sick of the drowned rat thing. She must have been to every employment agency in Liverpool, done all the typing tests, talked about her career expectations – wondering all the while if it was acceptable to tell the nice ladies with their serious glasses that she just wanted money, now, fast, please.

She’d been to every pub she could think of, peering in through dusty windows for “help wanted” or “barmaid needed” signs. Every shop too, and now she had a bag full of soggy application forms and a burning need for a big fat burger. The Other liked being outside, but this constant trudging from shop to shop wasn’t real exercise, wasn’t real freedom, and Lizzie could feel the wolf gnawing at her control, testing her limits.

Maybe a burger would shut the Other up long enough for Lizzie to fill in some of her forms. She was pretty sure she’d earned a break by now anyway. It was almost two in the afternoon, and every coffee shop and café in the city centre was filled to overflowing, people huddled together over their giant mocha lattes, watching the rain lash down.

No chance of getting in any of those places, but the pubs were all open now. Instinct sent Lizzie scurrying to Slater Street, and the Jacaranda pub. She was halfway there before she remembered and stopped herself. The Jacaranda was an old haunt of Harris’s; everyone in there knew him, knew his drug habit. It was always somewhere he could score no matter how little money he had. And as a result, he always owed someone there money. Not a good place for Lizzie to go. Damn.

She was about to give up and go home when someone yelled her name from across the street. Peering through the sheet of rain, she saw Tai waving at her from under a sunny yellow umbrella. Lizzie waited for a break in the slow-moving traffic before dashing over to take shelter under Tai’s umbrella.

“What are you up to?” Tai greeted her. “Didn’t you bring an umbrella out with you?”

“Obviously not,” Lizzie snapped, immediately regretting her tone. She smiled down at Tai, trying to take the sting of her words away. “I was looking for somewhere to dry off. Fancy a drink?”

“Love one,” Tai said promptly, linking arms with her. “How about the Revolution?”

Vodka cocktails and the biggest burgers in town sounded about right to Lizzie. She let Tai tug her along to Wood Street. By daylight, the street looked grim and dirty, the red brick walls tagged with faded graffiti, the streets stained with dried vomit and splotches of chewing gum ground into the pavement. You didn’t notice it so much at night, when the neon lights and clashing burst of music turned the street into a dynamic, buzzing paradise of clubbers from across the spectrum. Goths, ravers, hip-hop lovers, and retro darlings all swarmed here, knowing they’d find a place to suit their particular party needs.

But by day … yeah, it was a bit depressing, Lizzie noted. The rain didn’t help. But the Revolution bar looked warm and cosy, and she could practically taste her cocktail already, creamy and sweet with just a hint of sharp vodka beneath … except of course she wasn’t having a cocktail because she didn’t drink anymore, did she? Bollocks.

As they neared the bar, Lizzie caught a whiff in the air that stiffened her spine and sent a tremor of panic through her. She glanced over her shoulder, searching the dark street, hoping she was wrong, knowing she wasn’t, wishing the universe was a kinder place…

And then she saw Harris, huddled in the uncertain shelter of a shop delivery area, and she stumbled, released Tai. His back was pressed against the metal slats of the door, head bowed, rain sluicing off his hair. Lizzie’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, and her heart flipped, a mix of fear and compassion tugging at her. He looked pathetic, lost.

As if latching onto her thoughts, Harris looked up. His skin was chalky, his eyes clouded, but he saw her, she knew he did, and he recognised her. A lopsided smile broke across his face and he lurched clumsily to his feet, arms outstretched like a B-movie zombie, reaching out for her. Bile rose in Lizzie’s throat.

“Lizzie?” Tai poked her. “Are we going in or what?”

“Yes,” Lizzie said hurriedly, whipping away from Harris before Tai could see him. Talk about your awkward social situations. New friend, meet dead boyfriend. No, no, she didn’t know Tai well enough yet for that. Hell, she’d never know anyone well enough for that. “Yeah, let’s get inside.”

She linked arms with the other girl again, dragging her as quickly as she could into the Revolution. As the glass door slammed shut behind them, warmth and piano music enveloping them, Lizzie stole a look back at Harris.

He stood in the middle of the street, swaying slightly, as if the rain threatened to knock him off balance. He looked confused and a little hurt, and she had a sudden flashback to a sultry summer evening last year, sitting out in Smithdown Park, sharing a joint and listening to the Sex Pistols on his mp3 player, an earphone each. Lazy and sticky with heat, they’d lounged around in the shade of an oak tree until the munchies hit. They’d walked back down Smithdown Road to the supermarket at the far end, stocking up on giant bags of sweets and multi-packs of Monster Munch. They’d crashed out in the front room with a Clint Eastwood marathon playing, methodically working their way through all the food before falling asleep, curled up together like kittens on the settee.

Y
eah, and then the next morning he slapped you because you’d spent the last of his job seekers’ allowance on sweets
, she reminded herself, swallowing down the nostalgic pity that threatened to swamp her.
You had a black eye for days, and had to trot out that dismal “I walked into a door” line for Hannah, and she didn’t believe you. She told you to dump him, and you promised you would, but you never did because …
Well. Because.

She turned her back on Harris, focusing on Tai, who was peeling off her wet raincoat and shaking water from her hair. “Where shall we sit?” Tai asked. The all-important decision.

“Not near the window,” Lizzie said quickly, pulling off her own coat. The leather jacket had weathered the rain fairly well, but her Ramones hoodie was soaked, and she slipped that off too. It was warm enough in the bar for just her t-shirt. She wished she could take off her shoes and socks too, but was pretty sure the barstaff would frown on that.

They sat down in a booth table near the bar, well away from the window. With Harris out of sight, Lizzie could put him out of mind. She opened her menu, staring at it with vicious concentration.

“I had the worst lecture this morning,” Tai told her as she poured over her own menu. “I had to go sit through a talk on the life spans of bivalves. I think that’s probably worth two cocktails, don’t you?”