Fangs

by Anna Katmore

  It can’t be true. It can’t be true. It can’t be true.

  My breath freezes in my lungs.

  Trayan’s gaze moves to me. “Abigail, come over here.” His voice is a fierce command.

  Quentin’s arm shoots out, holding me back. “You don’t give orders in my home,” he spits. Not that I would have thought about running into the claws of a werewolf anyway.

  “Let her go, sucker.” Trayan holds out one hand, glaring at me again. “Abby—”

  The seconds it takes to find my voice again feel like minutes, and then my throat is dry as if it’s been worked with sandpaper. “I knew you were a werewolf,” I croak. My heart bangs so wildly against my ribcage that it hurts. “You came to my house. You deceived my grandmother. And my friend!”

  “Abigail, right now, I’m your best friend in the world.” Trayan’s gaze is ice-cold, and his teeth grind when he speaks. “So, please, step away from the vampire and come over here. Now.”

  What kind of bullshit is that? My fingers fist the hilt of the blade harder. “So you can eat me?” I squeak. “Like Olson’s sheep? And Lucifer?” My knees buckle. Quentin must have felt it because he pulls me close to his side. It’s easier to speak, feeling his protective arm around me even though my voice is still a high-pitched scream. “Does Rosemarie know what you are? Does she know that you killed her pet?”

  “I didn’t kill the goose.” Cold fury burns in his eyes, but I cannot determine where it’s directed because his gaze constantly switches between Quentin and me. He takes a cautious step closer. “Please, Abby. I don’t want you to get hurt. I want you out of here and to safety is all, okay?”

  And there, for the first time, I notice the deadly stake in his hand. He’s not here to save anyone. He came to kill.

  My free hand claws into Quentin’s chest for support as I yell, “You’re crazy if you think I believe one word you say!”

  “You see,” Quentin growls, “she doesn’t want to come with you. Why don’t you just turn around and head back to the fucking hole that spit you out?”

  Trayan chuckles—almost. It’s a poisonous expression, making his chestnut eyes gleam eerily in the moonlight. “How about you ease your grip on her mind and let her decide for herself?”

  Quentin laughs. “Is that what you think?”

  How can he be so calm in this terrifying situation? Good grief, we’re facing a werewolf! A creature that can kill Quentin with just one bite, at least that’s what he told me. I don’t want to even think of what a pleasure it’ll be for Trayan to gorge himself on me next.

  Quentin’s laughter dies. “I’m not commanding her. Abigail is here because she wants to be.”

  Trayan spins the stake through his fingers. “Let me guess… She also wanted you to suck her into a coma the other night?”

  “I don’t give a shit what you think, wolf. And the only reason you’re still alive is because she’s here. You shouldn’t push your luck—”

  All of a sudden, both guys snap their heads to the shadows of the trees. Quentin tenses even more and tries to shove me behind him. “He didn’t come alone,” he warns me in a clipped tone.

  But it’s Trayan’s horrified expression that stuns me. No, he didn’t bring backup.

  “Abby!” he shouts. “Come away! Now!”

  Something moves between the trees. It’s fast. And huge. I’m frozen beside Quentin. The blood rushing between my ears almost deafens me. My heart wants to give out, as do my knees. Until I see the monster barreling toward us.

  One bite.

  Its eyes gleam with bloodlust.

  I can’t breathe.

  One bite.

  Its ears are flattened.

  Razor-sharp teeth are bared in the moonlight.

  One bite.

  It’s a giant, white wolf. And it’s set to kill.

  The vampire.

  With only one bite.

  I don’t think anymore, I just move.

  “Rosemarie! No!” Trayan’s voice cuts through the night at the same time I throw myself in front of Quentin, raising my arms with the dagger.

  Quentin suddenly lifts me and twists with me when the ravenous wolf hits us sideways. Pain explodes in my shoulder. A yowl erupts in the dark. The blade is snatched out of my fingers. And then the wolf is gone.

  I can hear nothing but my own heartbeat. Nothing at all! “Quentin!” I scream in horror.

  “I’m here.” His arms tighten protectively around me, reassuring me that he’s still alive. The hard tree behind me presses into my back. I force my eyes open and air into my lungs. “Stay here,” he commands and then pushes away from me, his body tensed to attack.

  But then he freezes, and so do I. Ten feet away from us, a white wolf crouches on the ground, deep red liquid soaking the fur of its front leg. Above it stands a majestic autumn-colored wolf, his bared teeth placed at the back of the white one’s neck. A dangerous growl emits from his throat.

  Cautiously, Quentin takes a step forward and lowers to pick up the fallen dagger, never letting the two beasts out of his sight. The crouching wolf bares its fangs and snarls, which only makes the other wolf tighten his jaws around its neck. The snarling ceases.

  As Quentin rises again, he wipes the blade on his jeans, gripping the hilt hard, ready to defend. But neither of the wolves jumps at us. Instead, another warning growl breaks free from the autumn-colored one, and suddenly, the white werewolf gives a heart-wrenching yowl as it changes…into Rosemarie.

  She lies on the ground, her face scrunched from pain, and the teeth of a wolf at her throat. Trayan lets go of her and changes back into his human form, as well. He hunkers by her side and takes her into his arms. I think I’m going to faint.

  My knees give out, and I fall against the tree. “Rosemarie…” The single word comes through my hoarse throat.

  Quentin retreats back to me, still using his body as a shield. He shoots me a quick glance over his shoulder. “Are these your friends?”

  “She is,” I croak. “Trayan is the guy I told you about.”

  “Abby—” Rosemarie chokes, holding her arm with the gushing wound. “I’m so sorry.” Tears of shame run down her face. She completely ignores Quentin now, her focus on only me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “What the hell is going on here?” I scream at the top of my lungs and take a step toward her, but Quentin holds me back, keeping his arm in front of me with the dagger still in his hand. “Why—? How can you be the wolf? Did you kill all the animals in the village? And Lucifer?”

  Rosemarie squeezes her eyes shut and shakes with sobs. I’m still trying to grasp the horror of this whole situation, but in this very moment, she doesn’t seem like such a deadly monster. She’s broken. At war with herself. And, suddenly, I feel deeply sorry for her.

  Trayan helps her to her feet. It looks like he’s protecting her from Quentin the same way Quentin protects me from them. “It’s not her fault,” he says, his voice calm but still alert. “She’s a new wolf. She cannot control the predator side of herself yet.”

  I’m getting much too warm from all the stress here.

  “Then why did you bring her to the castle?” Quentin spits. “You knew that Abby was here!”

  “I didn’t bring her. I came up here to save Abigail from you.”

  “Save me?” I cheep, starting to feel lightheaded.

  “It’s true, Abby,” Rosemarie snivels. “He was so worried about you all day. He wouldn’t let me come, but I followed him. I was worried, too.”

  “Because you thought the vampire would suck her dry,” Quentin deadpans.

  “If she really isn’t under your control, then let her come over here,” Trayan challenges Quentin, his expression full of deadly mistrust.

  “Walk straight into the fangs of two werewolves?” Quentin laughs, but I take his hand.

  “No, it’s okay,” I tell him, and he jerks around to me, clearly shocked. “I don’t think they’ll hurt me.” It’s the truth. I’ve known Rosemarie for y
ears. We’ve been friends since the first moment we met. She wouldn’t do anything to purposefully put me in danger. Her attack was directed at Quentin, not me. I was just in the way.

  Quentin beseeches me with his gaze, but he seems to understand that I’ve made up my mind. Trusting in what I’ll do, he holds out the dagger to me. I take it to soothe him, even though I’m sure I won’t need it.

  My legs still shake as I start walking toward my friend. The world carousels a little. I’m halfway there when I lose my balance and drop to my knees.

  “Abigail!” Quentin’s voice breaks the tense silence at the same moment I feel his supportive hands on me. And he’s not the only one. Two more people are there to help.

  “Not under your spell, huh?” Trayan snaps, but his gentle touch assures me that he didn’t rush forward to hurt me. “You can’t even let her walk away from you.”

  “I’m not controlling her,” Quentin growls back.

  I feel a fight coming up, so I try to find someone’s gaze in the chaos and pant, “He’s telling the truth. No control. I just feel really dizzy.”

  Chestnut eyes narrow at me, then warm fingers touch my neck, searching for a pulse. “Palpitations,” Trayan says. “And a fever.” I don’t understand what the horror in his voice means, but the next thing I know, he’s tearing the collar of my hoodie down.

  His face freezes. Rosemarie gasps, clamping her hands over her mouth. And Quentin yells in blind fury, “You bit her?!”

  Rosemarie? She bit me? My insides cramp with deadly terror. She is a werewolf. “Does that mean I’m dying now?” I whimper.

  Quentin pulls me against him, wiping my sweaty bangs from my forehead. In his blue eyes, I can see how scared he is.

  “No,” Trayan says next to us—much too calmly, much too definitively. “It means you’re changing into a wolf.”

  A very strange tingle sweeps through my veins. I’m hot and shaking. The air around me has become much too thin to breathe. My lungs burn, and my vision blurs.

  “What’s happening?” I cry, pressing my face against Quentin’s chest, and my fingers into his shoulder blades. “I don’t want to be a wolf. Please, stop it! I’m scared.”

  Quentin caresses my hair and then pushes his arms beneath me, lifting me from the ground. He carries me a few steps and then lowers me into the grass against the tree. “We’ll get this fixed,” he says with a tremor in his voice that makes it hard for me to believe him.

  Squatting in front of me, he tilts his head to Trayan, who comes right up behind him. “What seals the deal?”

  “First change,” Trayan answers, squatting beside him.

  “How long until then?”

  “Minutes.”

  I have no idea what they’re talking about, but when Quentin picks up a branch and breaks it over his knee, keeping the half with the sharp end, I shiver even more. He takes my chin in his hand and looks me sternly in the eye. “Okay, Abby, you do exactly what I’m telling you now.”

  I give a weak nod. Anything that will stop this horrible nightmare.

  He releases my face and drags the pointed end of the wood across the inside of his wrist. Immediately, thick, red liquid pools from the cut where he sliced his skin. I have a very bad feeling where this is going.

  Nausea churns my stomach. I shake my head. Anything…but that.

  “You have to.” Quentin’s commanding gaze is fastened on me. He gets up, only to settle behind me, allowing me to lean against his chest. Then he brings his wrist right in front of my mouth. The smell of his blood makes me gag.

  “I can’t,” I whine.

  “Sure, you can.” Trayan wraps one hand around my ankle, locking gazes with me now when Quentin can’t. “As long as the wolf venom hasn’t completely taken over your system, vampire blood will work as a cure. But you need to drink it, Abigail. And a lot of it.”

  Rosemarie sinks to her knees next to Trayan, pressing her fists anxiously to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I didn’t want this,” she sobs.

  Yeah, one hell of a summer full of mistakes indeed…

  Blood trickles from Quentin’s wrist and lands on my dress since he’s still holding out his arm in front of me. “Come on, Abby, please,” he rasps in my ear, pressing his cheek to the side of my head. His breathing is as fast as mine. “You’ll change in a minute, and then there’s nothing I can do to help you anymore.”

  His other arm is wrapped around me tightly, clasping my hand. I know he won’t let go, no matter how this ends. The thought warms my chest. It gives me strength. But it’s still blood he wants me to drink, and when he presses his wrist to my mouth, my body convulses with abhorrence. I just can’t bring myself to swallow it.

  “Close your eyes,” his strained voice orders. “Trust me.”

  I want to trust him, but I’m about to change into a deadly creature with fangs, fur, and claws. I don’t know how much longer I can cope with all of this. Still, I force my eyes shut at his urging.

  “And now let me in, Abby… Let me in… Let me in!”

  LET ME IN!

  The last command explodes in my head so loudly that I jerk in his hold. But I keep my eyes shut because I can see him. Here. With me on my tranquil meadow in the moonlight. We’re alone. The long grass sways in the wind. Trees loom in the distance.

  Quentin walks toward me. Slowly. Relaxed. He smiles. When he stops and reaches out for me, I put my hand in his. Everything’s all right, I hear his gentle voice in my mind. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here with you. Then he lowers to the grass and tugs me down with him. I sit. No idea where he got it from, but in the next moment, he holds a Juicy Juice box out to me. I loved them when I was little.

  A straw sticks in the box. It’s cherry flavored. You like that, don’t you? I hear his voice in my head again. Reluctantly, my hand comes up, and I close my fingers around the box. Cherry is my favorite.

  “What is he doing?” another voice drifts into the meadow, but it’s not in my mind. It comes from far, far away. Like a faint echo.

  “He’s easing her into drinking,” someone answers quietly.

  I shut the voices out because I don’t want anyone but Quentin here with me right now. He’s all I need. Sitting cross-legged in front of me, he smiles as he waits patiently. I close my lips around the straw. And suck.

  He was right. Cherry flavor. The juice feels a little thick on my tongue, but when the first draught is down, it’s easy to take the next.

  You’re doing great, little warrior. Drink it all.

  My muscles relax, and my eyes flicker shut. I crumple down to the moonlit meadow, but Quentin is right behind me to catch my fall. He holds me tight to his chest. My breath feathers against his skin as I draw the cherry juice from this wrist.

  “Very good. Just a little more, Abby, and you’ll be okay.” His voice comes from outside my head again, but it’s no less gentle than before. The only thing frightening now is that it’s coming from so far away when I can actually feel his lips brushing my ear as he speaks.

  My hands start to prickle and shake. My toes curl in my sandals. I can’t hold on to his arm any longer as an awful daze grips me. “Quentin…” I choke, trying to hang on to consciousness.

  “It’s all right.” He takes his wrist away from my mouth. “Everything will be okay now,” he assures me, but I think he’s wrong.

  I can’t open my eyes, and the strange tingle from my hands and feet races up my body, centering in my chest and creeping up to my brain from there. Everything spins—inside and out. My meadow is gone. I can’t hear anything. Where am I?

  “Quen…”

  Chapter 28

  The first hug

  Quentin

  Abby passes out in my arms. That’s all right, I expected it. What worries me is that she still shivers so badly. I swipe the black and blue strands of hair from her forehead and hook them behind her ear. “Don’t give up, little warrior,” I croak because that’s all my voice gives at the moment.

  “It’s normal,
” Trayan tells me as if aware of my concern. “I’ve seen this a couple of times. The tremors will stop in a few minutes.” A second later, he adds, “If she’s taken enough.”

  I could feel how Abby steadily sucked my blood from my opened vein once she got over her distaste and swallowed the first draught. She should be fine.

  Keeping her between my legs and cuddling her close to me, I press my cheek to her brow, finally drawing in a deep breath.

  When I look up, my gaze meets Rosemarie’s, and my jaw hardens. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I roar.

  She just stares at me in utter horror.

  “Whoa, dude. Tone it down,” Trayan snaps, tearing a strip from his t-shirt. “Your girl will be all right. No need to attack Rosemarie now. She’s been through enough tonight.”

  He’s right. Her eyes are red from crying, but they aren’t just tears of shame or worry, I realize. Her palm is clamped on a gushing wound on her forearm that must burn like hell. Her jeans are already drenched with blood, and it doesn’t look like that’s going to stop anytime soon. Silver is quite effective with werewolves.

  I dip my head back against the tree, closing my eyes. “Sorry.” Damn, my head feels as though it’s going to detonate. “I’m sure you didn’t want to hurt your friend.”

  When Abby’s shivers ease and she calms in my arms, I glance down at her. She looks like she’s sleeping peacefully now. In the meantime, Trayan has tied the strip of his shirt around Rosemarie’s arm to stop the bleeding. “If it’s true what they say, that won’t help a whole lot,” I reason. Silver cuts tend to bleed for days.

  “I’m taking her to someone who can fix this.”

  “Who?”

  “Abigail’s grandmother.”

  The woman with the apple strudel? “I can’t imagine what she can do for you.”

  “Abigail obviously didn’t tell you everything about her granny then,” Trayan replies with a tilt of his eyebrow as if he knows something I don’t. The arrogance of a leader. Alpha. I should have known.

  I frown. “I think she told me everything she knows.”