Werewolves of New York: Darik

by Faleena Hopkins

  The hard-working man reacted with humbled surprise. “Well, well! My lucky night!”

  Darik kept his eyes on the ground, the pain unbearable. It helped him that he wanted to ‘stand tall’ in front of Talia and he used his ego for support for the never-ending walk to the elevator. Eli pushed the button and miraculously a car was waiting. The doors slid open as quickly as a whore’s legs on a Saturday night. When they got inside and were finally alone, Darik slumped against the wall and groaned. He could feel the bullets. Nathaniel and Eli turned to inspect him, but Darik shot them a look. He didn’t want to be babied. They backed off. He could feel Talia staring at him, and he offered her a smile. “I’m okay.” His breath caught as she neared, the look in her eyes so tender that he wished they were alone. He waited for her touch.

  She said, softly, “You don’t look okay,” reaching to touch his arm.

  She was something else. And here he’d never seen her face in the dream, just knew there was a woman who needed him, who’d die without him. But now that she was standing so close, in reality, he was speechless. Her almond-shaped eyes had golden brown irises. Her hair was the color of a Sumatra coffee bean, shiny and smooth. Her lips parted—free of lipstick from having gnawed it off—and she absently slipped a lock of distracting hair behind her ear so she could open his trench for a check-up.

  The elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open, the button number ‘33’ lit up above.

  “Come on,” Dontae growled, abruptly interrupting Talia’s care. Darik offered her a smile as Eli came to support him for the walk to the flat.

  “No cameras,” Nate said as they made their way to Dontae’s front door.

  “What, do you think I’d live in a place with...?” Dontae trailed off because they were in mixed company. He exhaled impatience and pulled out his keys, unlocking his flat and throwing the door open with too much force. He led the way into his kitchen and with one arm Dontae swiped everything off the kitchen island onto the floor, a cacophonous clatter of metal pans, wood cutting board, and spice jars.

  Nathaniel mumbled, “Okay, we get it, D.”

  Darik felt his legs give way and then he was floating, lifted up and placed on the island by Nate and Eli. “He doesn’t look good.” “Bend your knees.”

  Darik bent them and rested his feet on the edge of the counter. He grunted as Dontae tore his jacket and maneuvered him out of it with more care than he’d handled anything thus far. As he stared at the ceiling, his vision blurry for the first time since the change, Talia appeared above him, a beautiful mirage of strength. He felt nimble fingers plucking open his button-up so that she could see the damage.

  “Stand back.” Dontae’s voice echoed through the room. “I’ll get the bullet out.”

  Talia glanced over, ignoring his command to ask him, “Do you have any pain medicine?”

  “He doesn’t need it,” Dontae told her.

  Talia became annoyed. “Do. You. Have. Any?”

  “No.” he growled.

  “Dontae,” Darik whispered.

  Dontae sighed and said with more control, “We don’t do the stuff.” Drugs have a different reaction on werewolves than humans. But he couldn’t explain that.

  At her confusion, Nathaniel interjected with authority, “It’s not ego. We don’t take pain meds. Just accept it.”

  Darik watched Talia glance around his packmates’ faces. He couldn’t blame her for not understanding. How would he feel if he were on the other side of this?

  She tightened her jaw and shrugged with defeat. “Fine. If you’ve done this before, I’m sure you have twelve inch long tweezers?”

  “I’ve got better than that.” Dontae returned a moment later with a kit that made Talia pause, full of surgical tools, gauze, Aloe Vera gel, and wood clamps to bite down on. They even had teeth marks in them.

  “I’m not even going to ask,” she muttered, choosing a very slender metal piece that looked to be an advanced type of tweezer. “You ready?”

  “Over my dead body you’re doing the removal,” Dontae growled.

  Darik grabbed Talia’s arm as she began to walk away. “Let her do it! I want you to. You said you’re a nurse. I trust you.” Her light brown eyes softened. “I feel better with you here.”

  Her frown disappeared. “Pretty sure I’m gentler than Blonde Rambo over here.”

  Nate and Eli chuckled. Dontae did not join in. Instead, he put one of the bite-protectors in Darik’s mouth a little too firmly. Darik gripped the wood between his teeth and prepared for agony. Every feeling werewolves have is heightened. Not just sight and smell, and it was times like this when he wished he could take something for the pain. The afterthought hit him of downing a shot of whiskey, but he wasn’t about to come off as looking weak, not in front of her. Especially when her pretty eyebrows lifted his way, asking permission to begin. He gave her a nod.

  As she extricated the first bullet a little at a time, gently dislodging it from the muscle, it hurt like a motherfucker, but not nearly as much as he’d feared. She had a gift.

  She smiled at the question emanating from his expression. “I was going to be a doctor before I switched to nursing. Medical school was too expensive…and it took too long. Easy now. I’m pulling it out slowly. There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She showed him the bloody, collapsed nub of metal and copper, then laid it down. “There’s just one more and then it will be all over.” She unexpectedly kissed his shoulder once before focusing on the second intrusion. A spark flew from where the kiss had tenderly pressed into his skin. Suddenly he couldn’t feel any pain. He closed his eyes. She had to dig deeper for the second bullet, but now he didn’t care. She’d kissed him. Like water, his muscles smoothed out and before he knew time had passed he heard her whisper, “There. Got it.”

  He opened his eyes to find the second bullet more gnarled than the first, held up for his inspection. He met her eyes and held them. She paused and her heartbeat sped up. With fluttering eyelashes, she looked away and set the bullet down.

  “Good job.” Somehow Dontae made it sound like an insult. He retrieved the piece of wood from Darik’s teeth and rolled his eyes. “What? I gave her a compliment.”

  “Thank you, Talia.” Darik reached over to hold her forearm, his strength a fraction of its normal power. The room still looked fuzzy and he knew he could sleep for a year if someone would just let him. “You did a great job.”

  Talia laid her hand on his stomach and circled it there. “We need to replace the blood you’ve lost.” She glanced to Dontae. “I don’t suppose you have some stashed in your refrigerator?”

  Dontae snarled at her cocked eyebrow. Darik chuckled and Dontae pursed his lips, aware he was beginning to look ridiculous.

  A knock at the door shocked the room into frozen stillness. No one had been listening or paying any attention to anything but what was happening. Then Eli held up his hand and explained, “That’s Rose and Michelle. I’ll get it.”

  Nate leaned over. “How ya feeling?”

  “Like I need a steak,” Darik rasped, cracking his neck.

  Talia said, “That’s because you need iron. I’m not kidding about the blood.”

  “I’m not kidding about the steak,” Darik smiled. “I’ll be fine.” He couldn’t tell her that human blood transfusions weren’t a good idea. This might just be a myth, but it was believed that with non-wolf-borns, mixing in human blood could take away their gift. He wasn’t about to test it. It wouldn’t take more than a few days of weak limbs and ravishing hunger to endure in order for him to get better. His blood also couldn’t be inspected in a lab. One test and they’d know something was up, that he had mixed DNA. A shit-storm would erupt that would undoubtedly end with his pack leaving New York City forever. Probably after bloodshed.

  People would hunt them, fearing what they did not understand. It was man’s nature. And they’d lose. Everybody would lose. War never solved anything.

  No one can ever know that werewolves really do exist.
>
  Michelle and Rose rushed in wearing jeans, women’s t-shirts, sneakers and warm coats which they tossed on the floor, distracted by what was going on in the kitchen. Eli followed them in and picked up the discarded items, throwing them over his arm. Michelle took her place beside Nathaniel, gripping his hand. Rose covered her mouth, taking in the shocking sight.

  “I’m the only one in a suit,” joked Darik. “I overdressed for my own shooting.”

  “Oh my God. Are you okay?”

  “I’m going to be fine, Michelle. It’s very temporary.”

  “Quiet,” Dontae muttered as Eli and Nathaniel went tense.

  Talia was unaware of his slip as she threaded a suture needle.

  Nathaniel asked, “Eli? Are you–”

  “Yeah. I’m on it.” On his phone he was Googling steak houses as he headed out of the room, adding, “I’ll hang these up while I’m at it.”

  Rose threw him a look, which made his dimple dance on his cheek.

  With the needle suspended and ready, Talia raised her eyebrows again, asking permission from Darik. He nodded. Dontae held up the bite-stick, but Darik shook his head. Talia closed her eyes to collect herself, then began the arduous task of sewing him up without medicine to dull the pain. Every insertion of the tiny piece pulling a long, thick thread through his wounded skin was felt with tenfold the discomfort a human would feel, but he kept his eyes on her.

  He could hear Rose in the background groaning softly. The three females in the room all had racing hearts and he found their empathy endearing and comforting. Finally, Talia tied the second knot and clipped off the extra thread. Looking suddenly pale and tired, she laid the scissors and needle down.

  “I’m sorry. Dontae could have done that…”

  She cut Darik off. “I needed to be the one to help you.”

  Rose walked closer, inspecting the work. “That’s incredible. I could never do what you just did.” She offered Talia a small smile. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up?”

  Three pair of lady-footsteps disappeared down the hallway. He could lie to himself and say that Rose was being nice because she liked and accepted Talia, but that wasn’t the reason. The wives knew the wolves needed privacy to discuss what happened.

  To keep her from hearing any of their conversation, they led her to the farthest bathroom in Dontae’s majestic apartment. If I’m going to live like humans, I’m going to live like the best of them, he’d said when he’d purchased the flat after receiving their first big commission. The best way to describe his home was shiny and black. It oozed money—and bachelorhood—but in all the bathrooms there were products bought for women so that when he had female guests, they had every luxury they might need. The ladies were about to find all sorts of facial soaps, creams, body moisturizers and anything Talia would require to make herself like new again.

  “How are we going to explain this?” Dontae asked, his voice tired now that they were alone.

  Darik adjusted his shoulders and quipped, “Can I get a pillow or something. What the fuck is up with the service in this place?” Nathaniel chuckled and brought one back from the living room, returning just as Eli walked in, sliding the phone in his pocket. Nate threw the pillow to Dontae who lifted Darik’s head and positioned it with care.

  “Better, princess?”

  He chuckled, but quickly lost the smile. “It was the dream. The dream I keep having. It was exactly what I’ve been seeing over and over. They were going to kill her. There were two of them, just like in the dream. They smelled like shit. Meth coming out of their pores. That movie. I almost bought a ticket but then changed my mind at the last second.” He shuddered. “I was walking up, not thinking about anything, when I heard them–”

  Eli interrupted, “I thought in the dream you were inside the store.”

  “Okay, so it wasn’t exactly like the dream.” He closed his eyes, wincing at the ache. “Anyway, I heard them and ran as fast as I could. I almost didn’t make it.”

  “What do you think it means,” Eli picked up the bloody bullets and inspected them with fascination.

  They were quiet. Then Nathaniel asked, “Have you had psychic visions before?”

  “No.”

  Dontae grabbed the bullets from Eli. “Well, that’s just great. Put those things down. Let’s focus. There’s a woman in there who’s bound to be asking a whole lot of questions right about now.”

  Chapter Nine

  “I just really needed some ice cream, and look what I got for it.” That was a joke all women could understand. Rose and Michelle seemed nice. Too nice. Women can switch to enemies like a flash, Lord knows why. She needed them on her side.

  A pretty grin spread on Michelle. “Do you have it with you?”

  Rose rolled her eyes. “Right? Give it to me.”

  Talia’s smile grew, this time effortlessly. “I left it on the floor. It only got me into trouble. So who’s married to who?”

  “Nathaniel,” Michelle answered, raising her hand.

  “Eli’s all mine.” She lost the smile. “I can’t even imagine what you went through. It must have been terrifying.” Almost to herself, she added, “I hope they find those guys.”

  “Oh, they will,” Michelle smiled.

  Turning off the faucet, Talia looked at her. Something in the way Michelle said that gave her goosebumps. But her soft brown eyes were innocent now and Talia wasn’t sure if she’d imagined the knowing look. With her fingers dripping water, Talia turned around and took the hand towel that Rose held out for her. She decided to fish for a little info just in case one of them slipped and told her more than they wanted to. “I know you probably don’t want to hear the gory details but… is it okay if I get them off my chest anyway?”

  “Of course!”

  “We just didn’t want to pry.”

  Talia smiled. “Well, one minute we’re on the floor and the guns are pointed at me. Darik wasn’t there. He wasn’t even in the store, I’m pretty sure. Then suddenly he was standing right in front of me and one of the guys was on the floor, the shelves totally knocked over with him. Can you imagine? And then Darik got to me right before the gun went off. It was like…I don’t know…like he could move faster than any man I’d ever seen.” She waited for a reaction and saw stone faces staring back at her, a war going on behind them. Very interesting.

  Michelle began nodding. “I’m sure everything was a blur.”

  Rose added a little too quickly, “Your adrenaline. It must have been through the roof.”

  Michelle tilted her head and said something that made so much sense, Talia had to doubt her suspicion. “I’m trying to imagine if it were me. I think I would have been only able to see the guns. Nothing else, at least not clearly.”

  As she thought about it Talia had to admit to herself that it was very possible. “You might be right. I remember staring, thinking one thing: My life is about to end.” Her eyelashes fell to the black tile, the image of Darik’s body shielding her played out again. “I guess you’re right. When you’re in that type of situation, time doesn’t operate like normal.” She whispered, “Maybe he didn’t move as quickly as I thought.”

  Rose said with a gentle tone, “He’s just a man.”

  Talia glanced up to find both women watching her with faces filled with compassion like they wished they could say something to make her feel better.

  Feeling a little silly, Talia flashed a sheepish smile and turned around to check her hair in the mirror. It was blood free. “Well, my tank and sweats are clean but my coat is ruined. I think it must be somewhere in Dontae’s kitchen, but I don’t remember taking it off. How am I going to explain the blood to the dry cleaners? Oh! What am I talking about? I’m a nurse. I’ll just say a patient came into Emergency as I was going home.”

  Michelle nodded. “That works.”

  “You think they’re finished talking about me yet?”

  Rose looked sideways at Michelle with a little surprise in her eyes. She chuckled on a shrug. “Sc
rew it. They’d better be. Let’s go.” She held the door and winked at Talia. “I like you.”

  This was some apartment. Dontae had to be quite wealthy. The furniture was obviously pricey. They passed sculptures that must have cost a fortune. She pictured the judgmental stooge taking a gander at her little pad and huffing disdain. It was odd that he’d rescued her purse because now she didn’t like him. A part of her was pissed she was somehow indebted to him. If she thought she could get away with it, she’d flip him off when no one was looking just to make herself feel better. Childish, or not.

  They walked into the kitchen to find the scene dramatically altered. Everything was back in its place and the sound of male voices now came from the living room.

  Rose led the way. As they walked toward the sounds of deep conversation, Talia nerves lit up. She felt very much on the outside of this group and uncertain if her presence was wanted by any of them. But then her eyes met Darik’s. He was leaning back in a large black leather chair, in a clean white t-shirt and navy blue sweatpants that made his eyes all the more striking. But he looked pale, like he needed sleep more than anything.

  “Come.” He patted the side of the chair for her to join him.

  The room went quiet. She walked to him and sat down, laid her hand on his thigh, a familiar gesture she would never have thought herself capable of since they’d only just met. But so much had happened. “They’re going to take you home. Where do you live?”

  She swallowed hard as a dullness drifted over her. She licked her lips and removed her hand from his leg. “Chelsea. Around the corner from the bodega.”

  Darik thought about this. “Of course.” He stayed on her for a long moment and she wanted to look away to hide the hurt, but she couldn’t.

  The room waited for what he might say next.

  Fuck it. She leaned in and softly kissed him. His lips parted in surprise as she pulled away. She whispered in his ear, just for him, “Thank you for saving my life.”

  “Thank you for trusting me.”

  She arose and headed for Eli who was by the door. She didn’t need him to tell her, “I’ll take you home.” She nodded and it struck her that he seemed like a statue. She glanced back to Nathaniel, then grazed a glance over Dontae’s solemn countenance. They suddenly seemed… inhuman.