Ravening Hood

by Kendrai Meeks

  When he pulled away, breathless and flush, I giggled. “I was just teasing.”

  His hands anchored on mine, pulling me to him at the hip. “I hope not.”

  Amy’s dress didn’t last long, but neither did Caleb’s suit. After a few minutes spent becoming more naked and less clothed on the living room couch, Caleb cupped my backside as he pulled me up. I threw my legs around his hips, locking my ankles behind, never letting his lips leave mine. In the bedroom, silk sheets, chilled from the night air flowing into the room through a vent, made me shudder as he laid me on the bed.

  Caleb stood at the edge of his bed, his heroic briefs putting up the only other remaining barrier between him and my innocence. “What’s the shiver for? You afraid?”

  “No, the sheets are cold.”

  He grinned as he leaned forward and hooked a finger on the waistband of my underwear. “We’ll have to make sure we heat them up pronto, then, won’t we?”

  This was it. This was finally going to happen. I dug my heels into the edge of the mattress as I lifted my backside, helping Caleb’s effort. The garment dropped off the end of his finger and out of sight, after which he sent his own briefs to keep them company. When I settled back, Caleb followed my arc, crawling over me as I scooted up the mattress. His lips met mine. His hips shifted. Heat raged.

  And yielded as ice took my body.

  Caleb froze over me, one hand beside my head, the other hooked under one knee in an attempt to pull it over his shoulder. “Geri?”

  It wasn’t the sheets that were cold; everything was. The air, my body, my desire. In a snap, all the warmth of the world fled. Even the feel of Caleb’s touch blistered beneath my skin.

  He let my leg fall. “It happened again, didn’t it?”

  “Can’t.” It was the only word that I could utter, though five thousand more were battling in the back of my throat, wanting to charge across my tongue.

  He stared at me, awestruck. “Can’t what?”

  “This.” I scooched back, working my back up the headboard and covering myself with the sheet. “Oh my god, Caleb, I’m sorry. I don’t know why it happens.”

  Caleb pushed himself off the mattress, cursing under his breath. “We were so close.”

  “I know. Damn it, I hate this. I want to be able to do this.”

  When he came back into view, he wore a silk robe that complemented the gray slate shade of his bedding. “You say that, but you never do anything to change it.”

  Defensiveness shot through me. “And what, exactly, do you think I can do? Go to a doctor? What would I say? That I’m unable to get too hot and heavy with anyone since my mother stripped me of my powers?”

  “Of course not, I just...” Groaning, his hands mussed his ebony hair, setting bits of it pointing in a hundred directions. “What about Igor? He might be able to figure something out.”

  “I can’t go to Dracula to discuss sexual dysfunction. It’s just too weird.”

  Caleb fell back on the bed, and by the rise in his robe at a suggestive place, I could see he was still open to engaging in bedroom politics. “We’ve got to do something, Geri, or we’re never going to have sex.” He chewed on his thoughts for a few moments before adding, “You don’t suppose it’s something psychological, do you?”

  “You’re saying I can’t have sex with you because I’m crazy?”

  He tried to bring levity to the situation...

  “I’ve always thought a girl would have to be crazy not to want to screw me. You’re just providing empirical proof.”

  ...and failed.

  “I’m not crazy,” I assured him. “I want this. I want you. It’s just... I don’t know, maybe you’re right. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been lectured on the importance of having the right kind of mate. Hoods beget hoods was one of my mother’s slogans. Maybe it sunk in deeper than I thought. Maybe all the years spent blocking myself with Cody trained my body to cut itself off at a certain point. Maybe it’s something else altogether. Some sort of nascent hood, biological cockblock.”

  He ran a hand over his face, laughing into his palm. “Only you’re not a hood. Not anymore.”

  Feeling like shit wouldn’t help this situation at all, but it seemed to be the only thing I was capable of at the moment. I shimmied under the sheet, settling down on my side, facing away from Caleb.

  “I’m not much of anything, am I?”

  A moment later, the silky robe became the only barrier between Caleb’s body and mine as he threw an arm over me and nuzzled his nose under my ear.

  “You’re so much of so many things,” he said, kissing my cheek. “We’ll get there, I promise. And when we do, it’ll be worth the wait.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a long time coming.”

  “Touché.” His fingertips brushed down my arm, over my hip, and past my navel. “But at least we already know that, even if we can’t seal the deal, I can still fill the inkwell.”

  I rolled back over, flattening my back on the mattress as his head disappeared beneath the sheet. “Your metaphors suck.”

  “Luckily, so do I.”

  SEVEN

  My body was a lost connection of tissues and bone, held together more by theory than fact. Why was Caleb so focused on us having actual sex? We were doing a damned good job making each other happy without it, so much so I was convinced actual intercourse was going to be a letdown.

  All I wanted to do was sleep. This was my last week of Chicago living and, while I didn’t feel any particular affection for the city itself, the freedom and sense of self-determination I’d found in it seemed anchored to the top of the Sears Tower. Later in the day, I’d start packing: some things into boxes to go to a storage locker Inga had arranged for, some things into suitcases bound for Istanbul. In two days, Tobias and I would head back to Paradise one more time so he could run with the pack for the full moon. It would set off a three-month timer, near the end of which we still knew, sadly from experience, that Tobias would start to deteriorate mentally. A few days before the third full moon, he’d need to come back to Paradise, or suffer eternal lunacity.

  Though, judging by what I found him doing on the couch when I crawled in just after sunrise, he might have done so already. Tell the guy he could go home and I’d wait until daylight to return safely alone, and he did weird things with his newfound time.

  “This is how you took advantage of your night off? Watching foreign Sesame Street?”

  The wolf turned away from his phone perched on his knees, whereon a purple puppet that looked like the result of crossbreeding Cookie Monster with a cow prattled on about god-only-knew-what in some weird language.

  “You look like a mummy in that dress.” His tongue stilled as he closed his eyes and inhaled. “And it didn’t even work. Struck out again, huh?”

  My spine went rigid. “My sex life is none of your business.”

  “True. Also, I don’t give a damn.” Tobias chuckled as he hoisted a bowl of cereal he was holding up to his mouth and took down a spoonful, after which he pointed vaguely to the screen. “I’ve been trying to pick up some Turkish for the last few weeks. Kid shows are easiest for learning; they tend to repeat phrases over and over and keep the vocabulary simple.”

  I plopped down on the couch, scooting close to him so I could see the screen. “Inga, Igor, and Caleb all speak it already, and it’s a very international city. I don’t think we’re going to have much use for it.”

  “Well, call me a wolf, but I don’t like to be dependent on anyone except my pack.”

  “And me.”

  “You wish.”

  We both laughed under our breath, watching the puppet on the screen go through the motions of preparing breakfast. If the program was to be believed, in Istanbul, I’d start the day with cheese, olives, honey, and bread.

  “I hope there’s more meat than what that’s suggesting.”

  “Don’t worry. Another of the shows I’ve been watching is a restaurant review program. There’s no shortag
e of meat. Et, they call it. Or, if you prefer, kuzu.”

  “What’s kuzu?”

  He turned to me, a grin on his face. “Lamb. Succulent, moist, tender lamb.”

  “Oh, I do like lamb.”

  “Yes, you do. Fluffy, furry, little well-roasted lambs. Juicy as rain.”

  I tried to ignore the way his eyes lingered on my lips, then internally scolded myself for seeing things that weren’t there. Caleb failed to win your castle, and now you’re looking for weaknesses from lesser fortresses. Tobias couldn’t be attracted to me; it was physically impossible. But me? Yeah, he’d pegged my primal draw to him the first time I’d chased him down, knocked him to the ground, and straddled him. Plus, given my history with Cody, that I could feel such attraction to a wolf despite my genetics wasn’t theory, it was proven fact.

  “What about pork? Have you learned to say that?”

  My question broke the tension as Tobias threw back his head and laughed.

  “What?”

  “It’s a Muslim country, Geri.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Yeah, so...” He reached out and mussed my hair and, in that simple move, restored our sibling dynamic. “Sorry, love. No pork.”

  “Not even sausage?”

  “Not a single link.”

  “Okay, I’m rethinking this whole going-after-the-Ravens thing. I didn’t realize I’d have to sacrifice bacon as part of the process.”

  He stretched to the table to set down his phone and his empty cereal bowl. “I’m sure we’ll find acceptable substitutes.” With that, he stood and pulled me to my feet. “You look like you’re about to fall over dead. Let’s get you into bed.”

  “Maybe the second time will be the charm.”

  Once, when I was still a hood, I felt on a visceral level the moment a wolf came within a certain perimeter. Amy, though a huey, had a similar talent, only her body alerted whenever a sexy man between the ages of twenty and forty said anything that included the words “you” and “bed.” Her bedroom door almost cracked down the middle from the force of her throw. Despite the early hour, my roommate looked at me, to Tobias’s hand in mine, and then back at me.

  She took on her best chiding mother hen tone. “Didn’t we talk about this yesterday?”

  Tobias leaned back, stretching, yawning so wide he yelped a little. “What is she talking about?”

  “I’m talking about your presence and the not-coincidental lack of advancement in Geri’s love life, mister.”

  My chest rose and fell. “If it’s any consolation, we got to oral tonight.”

  The wolf let go my hand and put his hands over his ears. “Blimey, Geri, no. It’s none of my business, but you just wallop Amy with that kind of disclosure without so much as a prod?”

  “I have best friend rights,” Amy retorted. “And good. But remember what I said when I sent you to him wearing that?” She pointed at what little bit of a dress I was wearing. “It was supposed to be the night. Why am I finding you curled up on the couch with Lord Grows-a-beard-a-day when you’re supposed to be waking up in Caleb’s bed?”

  “Amy, I love you. I really do, but I don’t understand why you’ve appointed yourself as my personal intimacy manager.”

  The blonde curled her fists and shook. “Because I want you to be happy!”

  The moment Amy stepped over the line from cute-but-awkward concern to whiny-bordering-on-rude insistence, Tobias put himself between us.

  A move which Amy appreciated none too well. “You!” Her right hand pelted Tobias’s chest, a drop of rain in the river of his physique. “Don’t you see that she’s too hung up on you to give this Caleb guy a chance? I get that you lost your wife, and believe me, I’m very sorry for you. Really, I am. But you can’t keep interrupting her chance at happiness like this. It’s not fair to Geri.”

  “You think I’m here because I want to be?” Tobias crossed his arms and belly-laughed. “If only you knew what’s really going on here.”

  “What, you mean your werewolf-little red thing?”

  Wide-eyed, Tobias’s head swiveled in my direction. “You told her?”

  “Isn’t that what we agreed to do?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know you actually told her.” Tobias turned back to Amy, his hands squeezing her upper arms. “You have no idea how much of a relief that is. Bet it came as quite a shock, huh?”

  My roomie blinked thrice in rapid succession. “You don’t think I actually believe that, do you? Come on, just be honest. You’re in love with Geri, but you’re too guilty about falling for someone else so soon after your wife died to admit it, and too scared about being alone to deny it. How is she ever going to have a relationship with Caleb when she’s got all that waiting for her at home? Either make a play for her, or get yourself out of the game!”

  But Tobias proved uninterested in Amy’s early-morning therapy sessions. Instead, he went about pulling his undershirt off his head. “Guess this means I don’t have to worry about not doing this in front of you anymore, then.”

  In the three seconds that it took Amy’s eyes to catalog Tobias’s bare chest, him to undo the fly of his jeans, and his form to shift from two legs to four, Amy’s skin went from cardinal to cadaver. It was one thing to be told your third roommate was a werewolf. It was another thing entirely to watch him prove it.

  I swooped his jeans and T-shirt off the floor as I followed Tobias towards the bedroom. “We didn’t get to this yesterday, Ams, but it should go without saying: this is a secret. Now I trust you’ll have questions, and we’ll be happy to answer them after I get some sleep, but I’m beat. Good night. Or well, you know, good morning.”

  EIGHT

  “Silver bullets?”

  “True. Kinda. Any silver, actually, but it’s only deadly if it hits the heart or the brain. Otherwise, it just burns like a son of a bitch. It can scar if left on the skin for a long time, though.”

  “Do vampires really change into bats?”

  “Nope. They can alter into some kind of gaseous state, though. Just don’t ask me to explain how it’s possible. No one really knows, not even the vampires.”

  “Are they really immortal?”

  Tobias and I exchanged a look across the front seat, understanding passing between us. The werewolf balanced his left arm on the window ledge and a lie upon his lips. “That part’s mostly true, but anything that can live, can die.”

  We’d made a pact before leaving for Paradise this morning: now that Amy was in on our secret, we’d answer any question she had, unless the answer was one a supe wouldn’t normally know. Hoods and wolves, who more or less lived as long as hueys, were blind to the truth about a vampire’s post-conversion life span being only five hundred years or so. From what Caleb had said, they preferred that knowledge to remain guarded.

  After the first half of the trip to Paradise being filled with the inane questions we’d have expected, my roomie dug up left field to toss some inquiries at us.

  Does a vampire have to drink human blood, or is animal blood okay?

  Would it get drunk if it sucked from someone who was already drunk?

  Where does a hood’s hood come from? Is it magic? Magic really exists?

  If a hood and a slayer had a baby, what abilities would it have?

  That last one made me squirm, and my discomfort made Tobias grin.

  Amy picked up on it. Always observant. “What? What’d I say?”

  When I didn’t answer, Tobias did. “Geri’s boyfriend is a slayer. My guess is you tapped into a nerve a little too close to her heart on that one.”

  “Oh, my god.” A gasping Amy wore a grin that could power an incandescent bulb. “You have a superhero boyfriend? And you’re not hitting that every night? I mean, all that power, and you’re just—”

  “Like I said, we’re getting there,” I said, cutting her off. “Besides, other than being superfast, being able to throw little balls of sunlight, and being ever-so-slightly stronger, slayers’ other skills aren’t inherent
ly greater than a huey’s. One thing I can tell you right now, Amy: you have to overcome all the brainwashing Hollywood has done on you. Supes aren’t de facto attractive, porn-worthy sex gods. That’s just not how it works.”

  “Speak for yourself, Geri,” Tobias piped up, taking the exit off the main road that led to the packlands. “I am amazingly talented in the sexual arts.”

  As Amy cackled in the backseat, slapping her hands, heat crawled over my skin, though whether from embarrassment, anger, or some other emotion, I didn’t want to know.

  “Kara must have really appreciated that,” I mumbled, and then hightailed our conversation out of any topic that could make me imagine Tobias in the act of anything. “Supes aren’t superheroes, Amy. Remember that. In fact, some are the opposite of heroic.”

  THE PARADISE PACK NUMBERED a few dozen adult wolves, spread out over sixteen different primary bloodlines between whom family trees interweaved. To describe the packlands as a compound wasn’t quite accurate; without any fences—which would have been an abomination in any wolf’s eyes—the twenty-three homes built at odd intervals around a central clearing weren’t technically more than a neighborhood. Other than being completely surrounded by and punctuated with pine trees, the style was distinctly European village in formation. Only, instead of a chapel at its center lay a multipurpose meeting house hewn of local timber, big enough to fit a crowd twice the pack’s size. When they’d settled in Paradise a century ago, the alpha at the time said it was too small. How times and culture had changed.

  Amy wore tension like a second shirt. Moving with the grace of a stick bug, she crawled out of the backseat of Tobias’s hand-me-down extended cab pickup, the vehicle kept to her back like a rampart. In some ways, I had to admire the tactical prowess with which my big city roomie maneuvered. Safe ground behind, a means of escape in sight, moving forward with awareness of what lies beyond. My mother would be proud. But, as we were in friendly territory, and as every werewolf within a fifty-yard line of sight of our car had stopped to survey the interloper, the signals of I’ll-kill-you-or-die-trying she was giving off didn’t bode well.