by Leah Rhoades
“Are you alright?” I asked, my voice hoarse from my cries.
He smiled at me and nodded. “I’m perfect. That was incredible.”
I smiled back, feeling for the first time in days completely free of the burdens of worry. Even my skin felt cooler, and my shoulder didn’t ache. But my stomach felt completely empty, and it growled loudly.
Luke chuckled softly. “We need to take that rabbit and get you home, or your hunger is going to rage out of control again.”
I blushed, could feel the heat in my cheeks. “How often is this going to happen?”
He arched a brow and gave me a teasing smile. “Which part?”
I rolled my eyes, and he chuckled before growing serious again. “I don’t know, but we’ll do our best to avoid it.” He sat up and reached for our clothes, handing mine to me.
I frowned at the tattered material. “I can’t wear this anymore.” I held the shredded shirt up for him to see.
He grinned sheepishly. “Your pants and bra are still intact. You can get across the field in those. And Dad’s asleep, so you don’t have to worry about getting into the house.”
I hesitated, but I trusted him. Maybe he’d withheld a huge secret from me in the beginning, but it had been for my own protection. And now, he’d come clean and was doing everything he could to make this easier. I felt closer to him than ever now, and I believe wholeheartedly I could let my guard down permanently with him.
Glancing at the rabbit, I wrinkled my nose and put on the remainder of my clothes.
“Don’t worry about that, either,” he told me. “I’ll carry it, and I’ll do the prep work.”
Chapter 19
Luke stared down at Crystal’s sleeping form, not sure what to do. Last night had been amazing and horrifying. Not the part where she’d killed the rabbit, but the incredible agony she’d felt at doing it. He hated seeing her like that, and he knew it would take time to heal from is, as well as to get used to the need should it arise again.
He could try to stave it off as much as possible, keeping plenty of meat in the house, but especially during this transition, he didn’t know just how often the hunger would strike or how intense it would get. This was different from being born into the affliction. When he’d hit puberty and come into the change, it had happened far more slowly, just like going through puberty itself. For Crystal, the whole experience was condensed into less than a month’s time, and that could lead to serious complications.
Daylight broke through the window, and he left the room, closing the door carefully so as not to wake Crystal. She needed sleep, and he needed time to think. He left the house just as quietly, shutting the door and standing out on the porch, gazing at the growing light of morning. The air smelled fresh and damp, dew sparkling on the grass, and he told himself that, one day, when the hardship ended, he and Crystal could enjoy this beauty together, in whatever form they chose. Even now, his bones ached to shift, the beast anxious to run and frolic.
But now was the time for human problems, and hopefully, solutions.
He’d glanced at the open laptop, seen the research Crystal had engaged in before she’d run out of the house and sprinted away. She had abandoned her thesis, which had taken up the bulk of her time for days. Instead, she had been searching for a cure, something to reverse the effects of his father’s attack on her.
He clenched his teeth at his father’s carelessness, at the fact that he’d even charged Crystal in the first place. If he’d been more cautious, none of this would have happened.
So, it wasn’t surprising that she’d bookmarked a page referencing the death of the sire as the cure for the infected. Luke had considered the possibility himself, despite his refusals when he spoke to Crystal. Regardless of his own misguided guilt, Luke knew without a doubt that Everett Wesley was to blame for all of it, and it enraged him.
Shoving that thought aside, Luke tried to think rationally. He had to make some decisions of his own, and he didn’t like either choice. But it came down to the lesser of the evils, which future he could survive.
Every instinct that grew out of his feelings toward Crystal, that bond he knew had formed because she was his soul mate, screamed that he needed to kill his father. Everett had infected Crystal, and if rumors and theories were true, his death would be her salvation. He was dying anyway, all the hopes of saving him by returning home dashed as he continued to ail. The wound in his foot should have healed when they had shifted and gone hunting, and it hadn’t. That didn’t bode well for a long, healthy future. What difference would it make if Luke ended things sooner than later?
But Everett was his father, and Luke had spent so much time trying to save him it seemed wrong to render all that time spent a waste. Besides, there were no guarantees his death would save Crystal. Sure, most believed it was true, and even more were certain that taking the life of the sire before the new werewolf ever shifted would lead to a cure. But Luke hadn’t found any documented evidence.
And then there was the bigger picture. If Luke killed Everett, he would become the alpha, and that was attention he didn’t seek. Alphas were a constant target, and they had certain duties to perform, not the least of which was monitoring human hunting activity and assuring that no one in the community did anything irresponsible that would make humans suspicious.
Luke didn’t relish the thought of playing King of the Castle in any way, and he especially didn’t want to place crosshairs on his forehead. Any other werewolf who had a taste for power would eventually come for him. His father had faced down several and, luckily, won. But it also required sacrificing a life, and Luke didn’t want to kill his own kind.
Which came back to killing his father. Killing him went against everything Luke stood for, except the unwavering need to protect what was his. And while the groundwork they’d laid so far was shaky at best, Luke did consider Crystal to be his, especially after last night. They’d consummated the relationship, and he’d celebrated that fact quietly. The bond seemed stronger than ever, and in time, he knew they would work things out.
But would she ever forgive him and allow them to be together if she became the thing she hated most in this world? The thing that had taken everything from her at such a young age? The fact that Luke’s father had been responsible for Crystal’s grandmother’s death, for the fact that she’d grown up in an orphanage, was just another mark in the pro column for why the old man deserved to die.
Luke wanted to punch something, wanted to put his fist through a wall. This frustrated him nearly to insanity. There was no right answer, no clear choice he could make. His loyalty was unfairly divided. He liked things to be black and white, and not only did this fall in the gray area; it was also shrouded in a fog he couldn’t penetrate. And there was no one he could consult to get a second opinion.
The full moon was days away, so if he did plan to take action, it had to be soon. Crystal’s shoulder was healing quickly now, but her emotions were roiling and swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other. She needed Luke’s support, and he couldn’t give her that if he sat on the fence.
The door squeaked and he whirled to see Crystal step outside, wrapped in a blanket, her eyes still hooded with sleep. She looked so beautiful, her hair shining and her cheeks rouged. “Is everything okay?” he asked, concerned when she stood there, staring at him and not speaking.
She bit her lip and glanced away, as if she didn’t want to say anything. But then, she sighed and told him in a shy voice, “I’m hungry.”
He nodded, moving over to her and kissing her gently. “Well, let’s get you something to eat.” Preferably before you traumatize yourself again. He ushered her back inside with a hand at the small of her back, wondering if her words had ignited his hunger or simply made him aware that he, too, craved meat. With the full moon approaching, his appetite would continue to increase as well, and yet, he’d been so determined to care for Crystal he’d nearly forgotten his own needs.
In the kitchen, he sat her
at the table and pulled out a slab of meat. “How about seared on the outside?” he asked, turning on a burner and slicing some good cuts off the slab.
She chuckled softly. “Well, I guess it feels a little less untamed if it at least looks brown on the outside. I still can’t believe I crave this. I mean, it’s like someone with hemophobia who passes out at the sight of blood becoming a vampire and having to drink the stuff to survive.”
Luke smiled. “Good point. But you’ll get over it, especially if we remain civilized about it as often as possible.”
She tilted her head and asked, “So, I have to wonder. Do vampires exist, too?”
With a guffaw, Luke shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. I’ve never met one as far as I know. I mean, I wouldn’t doubt it, but you’re the expert in training.”
Crystal grunted. “I’m no expert, or I would have figured this out years ago.” She sighed. “Are silver bullets a problem?”
Luke didn’t like the way the line of questioning was going. While he wanted to answer her questions, there was a part of him that still thought he could turn this around, save her from this fate. And that part of him didn’t want to subject her to all the truths of what he was and what she would become.
“All bullets are a problem. As are knives,” he said pointedly, glancing over his shoulder at her.
She had the good conscience to look sheepish about it. “It was self defense.”
“I know. I’m just pointing out that we’re still mortal. Pretty much anything that kills a regular human will kill us, too. Just might take more bullets, or a sharper, longer knife.” He placed the meat on a plate, serving it practically blue, and his own mouth watered as he brought it to the table.
“Does anyone know who or where the first werewolf was? I mean, was this something brought over from Europe like the plague or the flu?” She readily picked up a piece of meat and gnawed on it, seeming to take great pleasure in the taste.
Luke shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m sure there’s a record somewhere, or a way to trace it back, but it could take a lifetime. Look, Crystal, we haven’t ruled out the possibility that there’s a cure for someone who’s been infected. We can’t change our DNA if we’re born this way, but that’s not your case.”
She seemed to consider his words for a moment, and then she folded her hands in front of her as she swallowed a huge bite. “No, we haven’t ruled out the possibility. But what’s our best option right now, Luke? Killing your father? I’m hardly ready to sacrifice his life because I’m going to be a little different. It’s not like he killed me.” She shrugged. “And I don’t know what else might be out there, but the chances of finding a cure are so miniscule, I’d rather not get my hopes up. I just have to accept what’s happening to me and run with it, learn as much as I can to prepare myself for it.”
Luke stopped eating, his stomach churning at her sudden complacence and acceptance. Where had that come from? He was sure the bond they were forming wouldn’t affect her opinion of the situation or her feelings on becoming a monster. So, why did she suddenly seem like she was giving up?
“What about your life?” he asked quietly. “What about the things you care about?”
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I have a best friend. I have school. I have a car, which is outside, and I have an apartment that I don’t really miss. I’m sure I could gather my things from it safely enough at some point, and then I could find a way to live away from society. And as for school, there are options for distance learning.” As she took another slice of meat, she asked, “Does the hunger eventually become more manageable? And if not, will eating so much make me fat?”
The questions were glib, and that upset Luke even more. Was she in shock? It seemed the likely explanation for the way she was acting right now, as if nothing mattered and she almost looked forward to changing. Humoring her but not at all enthusiastic about the conversation, he told her simply, “No, your metabolism has sped up, and it needs that much food. Your body will balance it out.”
His appetite gone, he shoved away from the table and stood. “Listen, I need to go for a walk and stretch my legs. Eat your fill, and I’ll be back later.” He didn’t give her a chance to respond, hurrying out of the kitchen and through the front door as he hoped with all his might she wouldn’t try to follow him.
This wasn’t the Crystal he knew, the spirited fighter who would brave this thing head on in an attempt to stop it. He worried her entire personality would change, and then, he wouldn’t even know her. And he’d still be attached to her because he knew with his whole being she was his soul mate. They would have to be together or both of them would suffer, physically and mentally. The question was, could he suffer in a relationship with this new Crystal? Could he handle her newfound acceptance and almost eagerness as she looked toward the full moon?
Maybe he was overreacting, and this was just a phase or a coping mechanism that would fade in time. And maybe he wanted too badly to play the hero and couldn’t bear that Crystal didn’t seem to need one now. But that didn’t take the concern away, and he had to distance himself for a while to make sure he had his own head on straight. Otherwise, he would just have one more decision to make, another one that could break his heart and his spirit.
Chapter 20
Time was running out, and Luke didn’t want to talk to me. He suddenly took issue with my need for information and gave vague answers or blew me off entirely. When he’d walked away from the table and not come back until I was almost asleep, I assumed he didn’t like my attempt at coping through humor. I’d only been trying to lighten the mood after a horrific occurrence that I couldn’t get out of my head by any other means, neither passion nor food helping to erase it.
So, the next morning, I tried to apologize and show a little more respect as I launched into my line of questioning. “Will my conscious thought, my human mind, still be intact when I shift?” I asked as he fried bacon and seared a couple of beef filets.
I watched his spine stiffen, his shoulders set firmly, but he didn’t turn to look at me. “Sometimes.” He only said the one word, and I sighed internally.
Rephrasing the question in hopes of getting more information, I tried, “Does that come more with experience? I mean, are the first few shifts more feral, and then you have more control as you gain experience?”
“It’s different for everyone.” Now, I was irritated. He knew the full moon was only a few days away, and he’d started distancing, just in time to cause me concern that I wouldn’t have enough knowledge to handle my first shift. And the time was past to delude ourselves into the idea that I wouldn’t change. The shoulder had healed, my penchant for meat was overwhelming, and my mood swings were epic. Everything pointed to the reality that I needed to ready myself for this new life.
Yet, it was almost like, if he didn’t talk to me about it, it wouldn’t happen. As if words gave it power. In some things, that might be true, if you were discussing manifestations of desires. With my knowledge of the supernatural, I didn’t discount anything. But I could feel my body changing, my senses heightened more each day, and Luke had enough history to see the signs, too.
“So, do you think it’s going to get easier for me over time? I know you don’t have a comparison, since you haven’t ever known anyone who wasn’t born like this. But what’s your best guess?” I worked to leave the question open ended, while still pointing in the direction I wanted the conversation to flow. But at this point, I was willing to accept any real reply, as long as it furthered the discussion.
“I can’t say for sure,” he said as he placed a plate in front of me. “It’ll probably get easier.” His words were clipped, and as he shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth and sat across from me, I gave up.
As if the silence that settled between us wasn’t awkward enough, Everett shuffled into the room, glaring at both of us before taking a seat in front of the plate Luke had made him. He didn’t say anything, but the tension increased tenfold with hi
s presence. Luke didn’t even acknowledge him, save for the plate of food, and I waited to see if he’d look at me again. I thought I could at least be cordial. But he focused on his plate, and I decided to do the same, hoping I could catch Luke later, in a better mood.
But he left, supposedly to do some banking and for more supplies, and I didn’t see him again until late afternoon. I’d even done some damage control on my own, taking out a slab of ribs, chopping off a couple, and warming them a little in the oven so I wouldn’t grow so hungry I felt like killing an innocent animal again.
I followed him into the kitchen while he unloaded the goods he’d brought home, but before I could ask anything, he said, “I need to go out and chop some firewood. It’s going to get chilly at night soon, and we need to make use of the fireplace.”
I felt the emotional turmoil kick in, and I fought the urge to rail at him, to scream that he was being unfair. I wanted to shame him for turning away from a problem that he could solve. I wanted to beg for anything more he could tell me and remind him he’d promised to help me. But I wasn’t going to stoop to that level.
In a huffy mood, I literally stomped back toward the bedroom, not even caring that I acted like a petulant child. I felt like ripping someone’s throat out and figured that immaturity was the lesser of the evils. But I stopped, glancing toward Everett’s closed door. He’d come to me before, regardless of Luke’s wishes, and I wondered if he’d be willing to help me make sense of things and prepare for what I would face.