by Lee Taylor
“I have no choice then...” Lycaon snarled. Damon responded; his body became rigid in anticipation of Lycaon’s next move, stepping backward he nearly tripped over a plant pot.
Lycaon closed his eyes, tilting his head back, lifting his hands slowly as the rain rolled along his contours. He began to hyperventilate. Steam rose from his body as he dropped forward onto his hands and knees; he threw his shirt aside, convulsing and contorting himself on the floor. He looked up at me; veins bulged on his neck and face, and his eyes were glowing thick, treacly amber. Letting out a blood curdling scream; he arched his back in a spasm, steam snaking off of him rising into the ether. His skin began to glow an incandescent red. With a thunderous crunch his skin ruptured, splitting along hair follicles. His contorted form receded into a foetal position. The ruptured veins across of his epidermis grew brighter; the heat was warming the air around us, spitting and fizzling as the rain tried to settle on him. There was a murderous crackling and creaking as his form completely shrouded in steam and smoke. The smell on the air was a pungent earthy quality, but it rapidly was overcome by the callous aroma of smoke and singed hair. The smell was so thick that it tried to cling to the back of my throat. Gradually, the shroud dissipated, revealing Lycaon's metamorphosis. Beneath the remnants of his charred skin was a hearty layer of black fur. Releasing a grunt, he began to unfurl himself and stretched out his hind legs, reaching up toward the dismal sky. He was well over three meters tall now as he stood up on his rear legs. The rain weighed down his fur into clumps in places; it was still evaporating as he cooled. As he shook out his fur casually, I could feel the warm droplets land on my face. I stood looking on in horror and utter disbelief. I was merely feet away, but the pressure that I felt building in the air was as if he were standing on my chest.
Holy shit. I wasn’t feeling too poetic at the time, in fact, I couldn’t remember if I wanted to run or to pass out. The intensity of the atmosphere had me feeling like a bomb was about to go off, and I was in the middle of its blast-zone.
I was freaked. Turning to flee, I could see Lycaon's discarded tattered clothes in a heap. Damon had already disappeared; I charged blindly in panic for the restaurant doors.
As I approached, they flew open; Kaitlyn stepped out, giving a twirl to look toward Lycaon and smiled. Lycaon's muzzle peeled back; his teeth glinted in the evening light. He tilted his head up and released a deafening howl. I closed my eyes, covered my ears and opened my mouth, praying that the loud burst of noise would not liquefy my brain. My thoughts were drowned out with the sound of his wretched howl. It was horrific, like someone screaming out for help with me powerless to lift a finger. I had a pain crumple me, shooting through my chest if his howling didn’t stop. I thought I was going to go insane. I could remember grinding my teeth, chattering with the strain. Part of me wondered if it was Kaitlyn crying out, but I couldn't manage to open my eyes while the howling ensued.
Oddly, Kaitlyn wasn’t screaming like I would have thought; in fact, she seemed to be completely un-phased by the torrent of noise. She simply stood by the entrance, looking at me with a curious expression like she was disappointed with my actions. Slowly, Kaitlyn lifted her left hand into the air; I could see tendrils of energy ripple from her and could sense the force around me change. Rain droplets were actually slowing down in mid-air, and Lycaon's eyes widened with acknowledgement of something. Even in his gigantic, wolf form I could see he was surprised. His pupils dilated, and there was a flash of jagged lightning arching across the sky that ignited his movement. He dove and snatched a hold of my arm as the clap of thunder echoed in the air. With a flicking movement, Kaitlyn shot her right arm out straight; symbols appeared at her fingertips glowing in mid-air, pulsing purple and black. If I would have blinked I probably would have missed it. The malevolent tendrils of energy intertwined and interlocked; in under a second all of the force that had been compressed was released from her hold, and cleared a path through the droplets of rain. I didn’t have a chance to react; Lycaon must have thought attacking him while holding me was out of the question. It wasn't. Raw energy washed over us, and we were both sent sailing through the air across the park.
Oh shit, oh shit this is going to hurt. I cried to myself, pinching my eyes shut in the hope that if I didn't see the impact maybe I wouldn't feel it… Did I mention I was an idiot at times? Even Lycaon with his more than monstrous size was sent flailing like a ragdoll thanks to Kaitlyn's magic. We were both spiralling through the air, across the car park and toward a brick wall. I was convinced I was a goner as the wall drew nearer, greeting me with its not very welcoming hug.
Chapter 6
When I woke up I wasn't, in some stranger's kitchen where I last remembered waking. It looked like I was in someone's basement sprawled out on an old sofa; the fabric smelled stagnant and was damp to the touch. Definitely a basement.
Flashes of images flickered in my head, showing me some recaps. For a while I passed in and out of consciousness. I flashed back and saw the events unfold for me. I was still lying down, except this time I was cuddled up to a counter, my heartbeat was going ten to the dozen, and I could hear the rain pelting down outside. There was some mumbled shouting going on in the background, like whistling and it obscured my hearing. I probably had a concussion.
Vague memories floated in of lightning flashes illuminating the car-park with its strobe lighting effect. Lycaon was there on all fours, shaking out dirty droplets of brick inlaid water from his fur. Pacing over towards me, he pulled back his muzzle. My ears were still ringing as his breath washed over my face, and the sweaty, repugnant scent lit my pulse on fire. My eyes rolled in my skull as my mouth lolled, easing to blackness. Once again I lost consciousness.
Did I freaking faint? Just where in the name of hell am I? I attempted to sit up, every joint felt stiff as I stretched; a dull pain throbbed on my arm. I glanced down blurry eyed to see a needle protruding from my hand. I snatched a hold of the surgical tubing and with a quick yank, ripped it from my skin. Grinding my teeth with the sting of it, I exerted a low pain-filled grunt. Some blood spurted out, splashing off the television set nearby. My head was still woozy. I leaned back on the sofa for support.
I am just going to rest my eyes for a few seconds… I feel like I've been dragged through a hedge backward, I told myself, giving into the exhaustion that had crept up on me. I was beginning to feel annoyed; it felt like I was developing narcoleptic tendencies.
“So. . . You’re finally awake then.”
The voice startled me; I hadn't heard anyone approaching.
“Is that a question?” My eyelids were still heavy; the harder I tried to keep them open the more they seemed to burn and urge me to close them. “I'm so freaking tired. Who-who are you? My eyes still aren't working properly.” Sniffing in sharply, I cupped my face in my bloody hand. “Ugh, my head is killing me...” I hadn’t finished complaining yet, but at least, to my relief, my hand had stopped bleeding. Gingerly I began to massage my temples.
“Ha! Yeah, that'll be the tranq's in your system; you know we weren't sure how much it would take, so we gave you enough to take down an elephant with its balls being squeezed in a vice.” From his husky voice I could tell that he was amused by his analogy. “Yeah my name is Tristan. I helped pull you out from that house while Kaitlyn slapped Lycaon about,” Tristan added. I didn’t say anything in response... I didn’t know what to say... I was having a really bad run of that lately.
“What's the last thing you remember?” Tristan asked as he sat down, a cup of coffee in hand. He took a swig, swilling it around his mouth before swallowing.
The aroma almost had me heaving with the freaking intense neurological pain that it brought on. “What? You mean other than getting fired through a brick wall? Let’s see... I remember running like a girl when I woke up in the forest. And apparently, I was being chased by a pack of werewolves. Either I really banged my head, or my life has just got infinitely more complicated.” My words were acidic; I was normally
a morning person, too, but I did feel like I had just woken up from a week long drinking binge.
“What about getting chucked through the wall?” Tristan asked. He still sounded happy enough to be winding me up. Great, I loved peppy people when I felt like a slapped ass.
“I remember my head throbbing afterwards, if that’s what you mean.” I kept the part of my heartbeat accelerating to the point where it felt like I was part hummingbird.
“So what's the deal here then? Why did you guys risk yourselves for me?” I said trying to make for small conversation. Tristan paused, and looked up at me, as he set his coffee aside. Standing up, he flicked the lamp on in the corner of the den. I winced; the light felt like it burnt my cornea right out of their sockets. I yelped, barking an obscenity.
“Sorry, thought I’d see if your eyes were less sensitive yet.”
I rubbed my eyes in response. They were burning like they had taken an acid bath. I furiously blinked away some tears that had formed.
“Si, isn’t it? Well... we're kind of in a war. Oh and congratulations, you have just been conscripted.” He lifted his mug appreciatively, and with a wink he consumed another mouthful, slamming the empty mug back on the coffee table letting out a heartfelt belch.
“Tristan... what the hell do you mean by conscripted? I told like... whatever his name is... that I wanted no freaking part. I want to call my parents and forget about the last couple of nights.” What I said was true. I just wanted to forget and move on as normal... back to when I wasn’t unconscious regularly, and I didn’t have to fear everyone I met.
“Shit, Si... I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, but yeah, you’re kind of in this now, bud. And oh yeah, it’s pronounced Ly-cay-on. Look, when you're ready to get the low down, come up stairs, and I'll introduce you to the rest of the guys.” Tristan stood up; walking past me he tapped me on the shoulder and hopped up the staircase.
I looked on for a moment, dreading what else was heading my way. I mustered what strength I had and tried to stand. Thanks to the drugs, still in my system, my body was having none of it.
'“Um, Tris, can I get a little help up the stairs? I still can't feel my freaking legs.” I was feeling damaged and helpless, god I hated that feeling. Tristan popped his head back over the entrance to the basement and called down.
“Yeah those tranq's are killers, eh?” He said. I heard some mumbled whispering, and eventually he emerged with a friend for help. Well, I thought he was a friend at the time.
His colleague was quite short. I mean he was shorter than average. His hair was cropped and black, with spikes in the front. He had on a short sleeved white cotton shirt, unbuttoned at the top, revealing some of his chest. There were long, scribed tribal tattoos covering his biceps, scything off in different directions. He didn’t seem too pleased to see me; He made no attempt to hide the obvious disgust that was on his face.
“Si, this is Alastair, he's our 2.I.C., and he will be assisting me with your princess carriage today.”
Jumping on the sofa next to me, Tris's long arm stretched over my shoulders. He was easily the same size as me, and smelt like pine. I could see he had a small tattoo on his neck, which at first, I thought was a birth mark. His light-blonde hair was cropped to his head neatly. My thought on werewolves, thanks to movies, were usually gaunt looking, borderline crazy people. Not these guys; they actually looked normal.
“Nice to meet you, Alis-” I tried to be polite; I couldn’t help but try to win people over who clearly didn’t like me... I guess you could say I was a masochist like that.
“Cut the shit would you, dog meat. We don't need you. We should have left you whimpering in that kitchen. Now Lycaon is in a fucking coma, and we have to baby-sit you.” He snorted at me. I couldn't help but sniff myself;' it was like my smell was offensive to him. I wouldn't have been surprised; in all honesty, the shower seemed so long ago.
“Lighten up, Star.” Tristan leant his head back, sighing with irritation “Let's just get him upstairs, and we can go from there.
“You know what, I think I'll try and walk. Alice doesn't seem to like me much, and I always try and make a good first impression.” Rocking forward onto my legs I lost balance and fell to the floor. I managed to get my hands out in front of me in time, but still my pride was going out the window fast. I was determined to move without Alistair's help, the guy was clearly an ass.
“You, stupid punk! You think I'm going to take shit from a brat like you?” Alastair snarled; lunging for me, Tristan successfully managed to intervene, just in time to stop me from getting my ass kicked. Maybe if I wasn't all doped up, I could take him, but now... The state I was in, I was more likely to do damage to myself. Alastair stalked back up the staircase, cursing and mumbling under his breath.
“You know, Tristan, you have got some awesome friends. Next time you want to bring something to help, why not bring something more useful, like a potato or an egg...” Well at least the drugs and shock were wearing off to the point my brain was thinking of dumb retorts again, I guess that was good news.
“Don't sweat it; he's been like that since I first met him; he doesn't like anything new or different. He is a total Neophobe.” Scooping his arm under my shoulder, Tristan helped me hobble up the cracked wooden stairs. Perching me on a counter by the basement door in the kitchen, hastily he rattled through a few cupboards and returned with a glass of something and a devilish grin on his face.
“Here, drink this; it'll help flush the dope out so you will be able to walk again.” The thought was promising; handing me the clear glass, I took hold and warily sniffed the liquid. Its pungent odour nearly singed my nose hairs.
“What the hell is this?” Tristan hastily retreated from the kitchen. I looked at the drink again, and with a sigh, I figured I might as well slug it back; if they wanted me dead, they could have done it any time before.
“Alright, fine... If it helps me to walk again...” I held my nose and flung back the tumbler. The taste was enough to set my mouth on fire. My face contorted, and I could feel my throat throb, finishing the rest of the contents I slammed the tumbler onto the counter and sucked in a breath and held it, hoping it would take away the burning sensation. It only helped to add flames to the fire already occurring in my throat, causing me to explode into a flurry of coughs, chokes and rasps. I could hear Tristan burst into laughter in the other room, there was another exchange of words, followed by some more sniggering.
As the liquid really sunk in, I could just make out another set of feet scurrying across the room, knocking the door open. It was the Brunette from the car park, Lycaon's sister.
“You didn't actually just drink that did you?” Jessica asked. My vision was hazy... once again, from what I could tell, there were about four women standing in front of me swaying in the breeze.
“What, what was that? Did? Did he just drug me?” I asked as the world swayed around me. With a concerned look on her face, she placed her palm on my forehead.
“God damn it, Tristan, what have I said about that bleach? Si, are you okay?” Jessica asked again.
“Yeah, course! Like Ice-said I can-andle—” I swallowed some fluid that tried to escape, and continued; “I can-andle my dwink.” The room was revolving like a kaleidoscope, complete with the different colours.
“That's not drink.” She chuckled. “That's Tristan’s very own, patented, mook”
“Mook?” I queried, blinking about five times in one go to try and un-blur my vision.
“It's his own concoction; a blend of homemade moonshine.... that can kill a human and homemade vodka... That can also kill a human... Well needless to say if you were human, you would be dead by now.” She smiled at me reassuringly... Okay, I think she smiled at me. Truth was I couldn’t tell the difference between her and the eighty elephants dancing around, making me rock backward and forward.
Shakily I tried to reply, “Well... if he's not trying to keel me den dat's goo-to-know... Can you scuse me for a min-pleez?”
I fell off the stool, still unable to use my legs; I slumped to the floor.
“He must really like kitchen floors?” Tristan commented. I hadn’t heard him return. Holding back laughter, I heard a slap and Tristan giggled more.
“I told you to get rid of that stuff; even you won't drink it any more... You do know the kid's a minor, yeah?” Jessica was clearly pissed off... I liked Jessica.
“What? How was I to know; the kids built like me, and I'm twenty-four.” Tristan tried to defend his actions, but Jessica was having none of it.
“What is it with you men being so terrible at reading peoples ages?” She knelt to face me, “Si? Si, do you want a bucket or anything?” Her voice was becoming tinny and distant.
Tristan came closer to console himself in me. “Hey, man, sorry I didn't know... You'll feel better soon, bud, I promise. Girl scouts honour... Can you hear me?” He shouted for Jessica. “Jess, he's just staring at me; he's not blinking or anything. He is alive, right?”
“D-” I was trying to talk, but was forgetting how to communicate. I slowly blinked, and the room was still rocking. White noise was humming its familiar delightful tune in my ears.
“Hey, man, are you trying to say something?” He fell to his knees in front of me, with a quizzical expression on his face as he turned to listen.
“Y-your.” I tried to speak, but unfortunately formulating sentences was still out the question. My eyelids shut and I lost grip on reality.
To be honest, by now, I was starting to get used to passing out on hard surfaces. When next I came to, there was a sauce pan perched on the floor in front of me. I had a pillow under my head, and I was in the recovery position... I couldn’t imagine why... Yeah, like my killer head was going to let me forget. There was also an itchy, woollen blanket placed on top of me. I sat up slowly, sliding up against the cabinet door for support. A handle was jammed into my back, but I didn't care. With a yawn I was finally feeling like myself again. I wiggled my toes and nearly cried with joy. I thought I was broken before, now with basic motor functions returned, I was flooded with relief. Alastair was beside me, sitting at the breakfast bar; tucking into a bowl of cereal, he sneered at me, and I wondered to myself if he was the wolf that I jammed the lighter into, which would probably explain why he was being such a douche.