by Erin Hayes
“Thirty-three,” the other hybrid corrected.
“Ah yes,” the big hybrid nodded. “Thirty-three of the that shameless bitch’s packmates. They came to challenge us,” he explained, folding his arms behind his back as he leaned forward over Isaac. “Came to be ‘bigger and badder.’” He studied Isaac’s face, seeing something there that amused him, and grinned. “Yes, we have some surprises of our own. Surprises that ensure that you and your vampire whore won’t have many secrets from us.”
Isaac felt the hybrid holding him tense at the same moment the hybrid in front of him flinched and cocked his head, seeming as though he’d been startled by a noise.
The big hybrid cursed in German and shook his head.
“My colleagues—that is to say my brother, Jerrick,” he nodded to the other hybrid, “and our associate—want to just kill you. Actually,” he laughed, “Jerrick wanted to kill you when we first spotted you. I’d tell you how long ago that was, but it would only embarrass you, I’m sure. Like he said, he wasn’t happy about that little skirmish that you and your vampire put him through earlier, and if she knew how many ‘innocent’ humans Jerrick consumed to heal after he finally hit the ground I’m confident she’d kill herself to escape the guilt. And it’s for that reason”—he seemed to be driving the statement more towards Jerrick and their “associate” than to Isaac—“that I would not allow you to be so simply dealt with.”
Only then did the other hybrid—Jerrick—seem to relax.
Isaac frowned. Their “associate” seemed to be more of a boss than a partner.
Jerrick’s claws extended and buried into Isaac’s shoulders at that moment.
“We heard that,” both of the hybrids scolded him in unison.
Isaac fought the urge to cry out, refusing to give them that satisfaction, and instead said through clenched teeth, “So you plan to torture me too, right? Is it more fun that way, or is it like the others? Sending a message, right?” He locked eyes with the bigger one—Ezra, no doubt—and seethed out, “Did your ‘associate’ tell you to do that?”
Ezra punched him again.
“You have some—how do you say?—‘big balls’ to be speaking to us that way,” he said, sounding more impressed than angered.
“Let me kill him!” Jerrick snarled, his claws digging deeper into the meat of Isaac’s shoulders. “We can display the pieces for the bitches, but the sound of his breathing fills me with such—”
“NEIN!” Ezra roared and raised an inhuman fist with a too-long index finger aimed at his brother. “He represents more than just a moment of weakness on your part! And he’s more than just an obstacle to get out of the way!” He glared down at Isaac, “A therion that lies with a vampire…” something in how he said it sounded more reflective than declarative, as though he was remembering something rather than simply seeing it. “He represents much, much more, and it would all mean nothing if we put him down too soon.” He crouched down and dragged the back of his hand across Isaac’s jaw, muttering something that almost sounded like “papa” before saying, “There’s business, there’s pleasure, and then there’s this…”
With that Ezra stood and, as he did, allowed the beast to emerge. It was the fastest transformation Isaac had ever seen, and in a flash of motion a towering monster loomed over him, snatching him from the ground and Jerrick’s grip, and slamming him repeatedly into first the ground and then the wall at the other end of the street.
How had they gotten there so fast?
Then he was thrown through the air, soaring across an entire city block before crashing down onto the asphalt. Both of the hybrids, both in their therion forms, were already waiting for him there. As his vision blurred from the pain, Isaac turned to face the moon, a vision of Zoey’s smiling face was the last thing he was able to see before everything went dark.
Zoey woke up feeling wrong. As though she’d come out of a nightmare that she couldn’t remember a single detail from. Or as though she’d been startled awake by a memory of something in the waking world she’d forgotten to handle—an oven left on or an open window awaiting an incoming storm. She turned, expecting her arm to find Isaac’s chest—expecting all the comfort and peace she’d found there before—but instead found only emptiness.
She’d woken up feeling wrong, she realized, as though something terrible was about to happen to somebody she loved.
“Isaac?” she whimpered into the darkness, looking with eyes for something her mind’s eye already told her wasn’t here.
She was out of bed and dressed with a speed that she would’ve challenged the quickest of sangs to match and racing for the lobby, where she found Delilah and some of her packmates sitting over breakfast. Once again she ignored what her aura already told her and scanned the rest of the room, finding no sign of Isaac. Then, finally, she scanned the entire building and felt her legs buckle.
He wasn’t there.
Isaac was gone!
“Have any of you seen Isaac?” she asked, knowing her voice sounded frantic.
Delilah frowned and shook her head. “No,” she confessed, biting her lip. “Not since last night when you two…” she didn’t finish, letting the tragedies that had transpired go unspoken.
Dread filled Zoey. All the tragedies of the prior night had weighed heavy on her, and she remembered seeing the concern in her lover’s eye even while she worked to mend his injuries. She’d wanted to reassure him, but it was all she could do to reassure herself and finish the task at hand.
Had he actually gone out there on his own?
Could he have been so foolish?
Wondering if he’d tried to contact her while she’d been asleep, she tore out her phone—wondering why she hadn’t thought to check it in the first place—and saw that she had forty-two missed calls and even more waiting texts.
All from Serena.
Opening the texts, Zoey found herself assaulted with a stream of grammatical and spelling errors that, if it weren’t for the obscenities and perversions laced within, would have been the worst of it:
worse than trying to fuck in a wal-
mart bathroom, i swear to shit!
SERENA ur kidding me with this shit, right?
if im not being punkd or something
then somebodys getting kicked in the
balls!
SERENA PICK UP UR FUCKING PHONE!!!!!!!!
SERENA hay bitch. Ur mans a dumass dipsit
(but u prolly knew dat already) and if
he not dead b4 i get there im gonna
kill him myself.
SERENA o yea! 4got to mention ima kill u 2 4
NOT PICKING UP UR GODDAM PHONE!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
SERENA luv ya <3
… ur mans a dumass dipsit…
… if he not dead…
It wasn’t much to go on, but it was enough to confirm the worst of Zoey’s fears all the same. He might actually be…
No.
No!
She couldn’t even begin to believe that!
She couldn’t!
“I have to go!” she said, though she wasn’t sure who she was talking to anymore.
“Go?” Delilah stood, shaking her head already. “Are you telling me Isaac went out there on his own? Even after what I told you happened to…” again she couldn’t finish. Zoey couldn’t blame her. Declan and the others hadn’t come back—her auric scan had revealed that, as well—and that could only mean one thing. “Zoey, you know that I can’t let you just throw yourself into the same sort of trouble on your own!”
“JUST TRY TO STOP ME!” Zoey screamed, her aura kicking up the contents of the room.
Delilah held her hands up and took a single step towards her despite the sheer force of the aura pushing against her. “Please!” she pleaded, “Zoey! Sister! You’re smarter than this! I might not have known
you long but I at least know that much!”
Zoey’s aura died down as fast as it had flared up.
“I…” she trembled and pulled away as soon as Delilah tried to touch her. “I need to go.”
She didn’t know what she was going to do.
Didn’t know what she was going to do or how she was going to do even a fraction of what she wanted to do.
The anger and hurt and fear and desperation hurt her head; her ears were ringing. Whimpering, on the verge of tears, she held her hands over her ears, begging for it to end. Begging for an answer that she couldn’t get on her own. People on the street were staring. She didn’t blame them. A small, blue-haired girl looking like her world was about to end—well, wasn’t it?—and clawing at her own ears as she stumbled down the street? She’d have stared, too. And still the ringing plagued her…
After a moment, though, she realized that the ringing wasn’t unfamiliar familiar and she looked up, realizing that it was her phone. Had that always been the case? Pulling it out of her pocket, she saw her phone’s caller ID light up with the answer she’d been hoping for:
Serena.
She swiped her finger to answer and barely had it to her ear before the onslaught began:
“Girl, I’ve got half a mind to pummel the ever-loving shit outta you!” Serena was talking a mile-a-minute, the desperation after only half a ring catching Zoey off guard. “You fall off the radar, don’t call in days, and when the shit hits the fan you don’t answer your call! I’d suggest not listening to the last… um, like, ten… no, make it the last fifteen voicemails. They aren’t the nicest. Anyway,” she exhaled in an exasperated whistle. “You realize I coulda conjured Davey Crocket on an Ouija Board and asked how big his cock was in the time it took you to call me back? Fuck me sideways with a coffee can!”
“Davey Crocket?” Zane’s voice chirped in the background.
“Shut the fuck up and steer this steroid-laced minivan!” Serena barked at him, “It was the first thing that popped into my head! And what are you doing listening in on my phone calls?” There was a series of muffled impacts that made Zoey imagine her friend beating her lover with the phone before: “Zoe! Angel! My blue-haired sister-from-another-mister! I—”
“Serena,” Zoey barked into the receiver and, for once, her friend stopped in mid-sentence, “will you shut the hell up and tell me what happened?”
“Isaac said he was going to try to find those hybrid fucks you’re after! He was spouting some nonsense about ‘cruel to be kind’ and how he couldn’t stand to see you hurt, but I told him—”
“Shit!” Zoey cursed, then, realizing how good it felt, did it again: “Shit shit shit shit FUCK!”
“Okay,” Serena cut in, “we’re going to discuss how sexy that little outburst was on a later date, but before that you have to—”
“I know,” Zoey was already starting down the street, “I’m already on my way to find him!”
“BITCH WHAT?” Serena roared, “Have you gone retarded? Jesus on a fat-titted nun what is it with you people? Fucking throwing yourselves onto Death’s scythe at the first sign of your significant other’s peril? Geez! You’re all already on my ‘to kill’ list, so your lives are worth all but a pot of boiling piss right now! I mean, for fuck’s sake, I know better than that… AND I’M FUCKING BLONDE! I am quite possibly the dumbest cunt to crawl her fine ass off a throbbing tool—Zane! Did Greg just say ‘cunt’? I blame you for that!” there was a silent moment that Zoey tried to take advantage of, but before she could say anything Serena went on with, “Where was I? Oh yea! Throbbing tool! I might be dumb—like DUMB-dumb—but I know better than to fucking kill myself when people need my ass alive! Now you’ve got an entire apartment building teeming with leg-humpers that are likely pissed off and ready to lunge at the first person you label as the mailman, so you wrangle all those smelly fucks up, pack ‘em into whatever’s passing for a short bus, and YOU GO GET YOUR MAN!”
Zoey shook her head. “I’m not risking any more innocent lives, Serena! I’m doing this—”
“If you say ‘you’re doing this alone’ I will personally bludgeon you with the horse dick that is your man’s tool, I swear to fuck!” Serena’s voice was so low and filled with rage that Zoey found herself walking back to the apartment before she was even done speaking. “Trust me, that dick’s coming off and has a target waiting for it. I have no problem adding your name to the list Isaac put himself on a few hours ago.” Serena paused to take a deep breath then. “Listen:” she suddenly sounded very unlike herself, “I know I always tell you I love you and all that girlfriend sisterly garbage, but… look, Zoe, I can’t even begin to tell you how much I respect you. There isn’t a day that goes by—not a goddam day—that I don’t wish I was more like you. I mean, half the time I’m making a mess out of everything and the other half I’m pulling out of whatever trouble I’ve landed myself and everyone around me in with zero idea of what I’m doing. You… you’ve got plans on top of plans and you keep everything, even me, exactly in its proper place while making it look so simple. Really, Zoe, if I tried to use my brain even half as much as you I’d probably have blown the top of my skull off!”
Zoey blinked at that, her hand pausing as she was reaching for the door to Delilah’s building. “You… you really feel that way?”
“What?” Serena sounded confused, “About my skull blowing off?”
“N-no…” Zoey finally pulled the door open, but felt distant from the actions as she navigated back towards Delilah. “A-about wanting to be like me…”
“Well… yea! I mean, didn’t you know that?” Serena asked.
“No,” Zoey admitted. “I didn’t.”
“Then you’re dumb, too. Super-ridiculous smart, but also really, really dumb. Dumb like your dumb-but-wise man, who you need to round up a posse to go rescue now, kay?”
“Kay,” Zoey was on the verge of tears as she saw Delilah starting down the hall towards her with more packmates following after than she could count. “I… I mean, right. You’re right. I gotta go, though, it looks like the posse’s been rounded up.”
“Go get ‘em, girl!” Serena cheered her on, then, suddenly remembering something, added, “Oh! And check the lining of your suitcase. I snuck you a little something in there that I knew you wouldn’t pack on your own.”
Zoey groaned. “It’s not another vibrator, is it?” she asked.
Serena chuckled at that, but only said, “Better.”
Zoey was scared.
But most of all she was angry.
Those two emotions combined were the ruination of the room that she and Isaac had been sharing up until that last night. The moment she’d entered it to get ready—seeing his things and the bed they’d shared and remembering their moments in that bed—it all came out. Screaming and thrashing her fists at invisible enemies, her aura lashed from her body and began an all-out “redecorating” session. She couldn’t imagine a life without Isaac; couldn’t imagine what those monsters were putting him through. She couldn’t imagine what it would take to save him, and couldn’t begin to imagine what she’d do with herself if she failed to do just that. She continued to replay the last vision of him in her head: his pained, desperate eyes seeming to look for any answer on how to make things better for her.
And this was the conclusion he’d come to.
She screamed again and her aura doubled its efforts around her, shredding and crushing everything it came across. The thought of those caring, warm eyes that she’d gazed into so many times before looking up at the hybrids as they did…
“KILL THEM!”
The voice was neither Serena’s nor was it in her head. Zoey roared and opened her eyes, snagging control of her aura in that instant and looking around the room, taking in the sight of the bits and pieces—the aftermath—floating amidst the semitransparent blue mass of her aura like bits of debris suspended in a Jell-O mold. Then, taking a deep breath, she snapped her aura back into herself, the blue tint covering
the world vanishing in an instant, and the floor trembled from the force of everything crashing down around her. Papers were scattered, clothes were torn and scattered around the room, and the bed—the mattress, the box spring, and even the wooden frame—was shredded.
“I’d ask if you were going to pay for all that,” Delilah called out behind her, “but I think it’d just piss you off.”
There wasn’t a sliver of the therion’s normal condescending tone to be heard. In fact, she sounded impressed.
Zoey glanced back and felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “Sorry about that,” she said.
Delilah shrugged, sighing. “I’ve got plenty of vacant rooms now, Zoe,” she said, not going into any more detail—Zoey didn’t want her to—and taking a step inside. “What’s it matter if one of them needs some…” she looked around and sighed, “Well, maybe I’ll just use it for storage.”
Zoey followed her gaze and the two shared a hollow laugh.
“Not much left for you to wear,” Delilah pointed out, taking in the shredded clothes.
“That’s not entirely true,” Zoey sighed, pulling out Serena’s “present.”
Delilah raised an eyebrow. “What is that thing?”
“My friend’s idea of a combat suit,” Zoey said with a groan.
The note, which still hung to the garment, was clear for both of them to read:
Hey bitch,
Blue is SO your color.
XOXO
Serena
PS- Wouldn’t this also make
the perfect bondage gear?
I can SO imagine Isaac
pitching a Wiffle Ball bat
to the sight of you in this ;-)
The scent of blood and death assaulted Isaac’s senses as he came to, groaning as the aches and pains brightened and dawned like a sunrise of agony. Ezra and Jerrick, who were busying themselves around him with various bits of hardware and power tools, paused to glance over at him, both smirking when they saw that he was awake.