Beasthood (The Hidden Blood Series)

by A. Z. Green

  She smiled sweetly at him, revealing her shining, big teeth. Her luminous orange lipstick making her whole face light up. Her honey brown eyes twinkled at him.

  It gave him the twist of his arm he needed to ignore her careless outburst and get down to business. “I suppose we should. It has, I believe, been on everyone's mind.” By the silent curiosity in the room, and exchange of looks when he said this, Arik was proven to be correct.

  “Can I ask how she is coping? I haven't even seen her yet and it's been over a week,” Tyra questioned, looking between Arik and Maria who was sitting in the middle on the right-hand side of the long table.

  “She is coping, well,” came Maria's reply. The old woman eyed the pretty, caramel-chocolate skinned woman uneasily, though because it was her, the expression wasn't so obvious on her face.

  Tyra didn't spot it but she heard the hesitation in Maria's voice. It was enough to aggravate her suspicions. “So why haven't we seen her? Edda needs to evaluate her progress. She should be housed in an Early Phase Cabin by now.”

  Maria's daughter, Erica, was sitting at the back. She had come, specifically, to hear about this subject. She was a member of the council, but hadn't contributed at all. Her mind had been too busy worrying about her niece.

  “She isn't ready,” came Maria's cold reply.

  Tyra arched a threaded brow. “Meaning?”

  There was an awkward pause. Arik gazed at Maria and bobbed his head once to encourage her. When she felt she had the all clear, she explained. “She hasn't shown much signs of Change, yet.”

  “So she hasn't phased?” Maria shook her head slowly. “Not once?” Maria glared at Tyra. Tyra stared, unflinching.

  “So,” came a soft, buttery French accent. Everyone turned to Lamont. He gazed at Maria with his flirtatious, yet gentle, mocha eyes; his black skin shiny from the heat as he said, “she's been here a week, amongst us, after been given the 'Phaser Drink' and nothing?” His voice went high on the last word, his thick accent making it sound like 'nawtheeng?'

  “Correct,” Maria responded coolly. Lamont stared at Maria incredulously. “Her toenails have grown out, and she hasn't been well. She goes in and out of fevers, has a strong desire for raw meat but apart from that, there's not much else I can tell you.”

  “So what you're saying, is that there's no proof she is even one of us?” Tyra pushed.

  Maria didn't like the accusation in her voice- though if the shit did hit the fan Tyra was partly to blame anyway for helping to find Jaz. Maria rolled her eyes from Lamont opposite her, to her left, locking her half-closed gaze on Tyra as if it was a huge, bothersome task. “Our proof, is that Lora wasn't 'one of us' so Jaz must be. Let's not forget however that Lora was, and Jaz is, still my granddaughter and blood. So if we're going to say who is and isn't one of us, I would say that she is more one of us, than you are.” Tyra glowered at her with her signature look. It made many toes curl. Maria's, however, were not amongst them. “You are new to this Pack by seven years but Lora - and now Jaz- are more woven into this Pack than most, by blood, so I suggest we treat my granddaughter as such. And that we remember my late granddaughter.... as such.”

  Tyra was about to snap back at Maria for questioning her place in the Pack but the sound of doors opening stopped her dead. Especially when she saw who came in.

  A handsome, young man, in his mid-twenties strutted into the dim, black and midnight-blue room, with a smile on his face that could melt hearts and a confident -verging on arrogant- air.

  He was quite small for a Were but by no means weak-looking with his muscular, slim physique, wide shoulders and very pert behind. He had the proud, confident stance of a matador. His wavy, copper, shoulder-length hair was parted in the middle and he had warm, squinting, almond-coloured eyes that were now glittering as he grinned at everyone.

  “Swain,” Arik greeted halfheartedly. “Good of you to finally join us,” he added stiffly and noticeably grumpily.

  Swain grinned wider and even 'Ice Queen' Tyra felt a fluttering heat in her belly as she watched him. The other four women present, Nessa, Astrid, Signy and Saga practically swooned at the sight of him. “Oh don't be such a grouch, Arik. It'll give you wrinkles.” He winked at the old man and Arik frowned, scanning left and right at the salivating women, displeased.

  Behind Swain came his brother Nik- the sight of him was what had stopped Tyra from speaking.

  He was a towering, influential presence in the room as always. Everyone stood to greet him. He eyed the room full of people with a pokerface. His deep, inset eyes missing nothing.

  “Ah, Nik, we were hoping you'd have time to join us,” Arik announced. He held out a hand and Nik sidled over towards the empty chair Arik was signalling to sit in, right by his left side.

  Swain parked himself in a chair at the other end of the table nearer the door, between Tyra and Saga. All the men present were giving him their usual envious looks as the girls paid him full attention. Lamont was particularly peeved with the way Tyra softened when Swain was around.

  Swain grinned teasingly at the French man as he sat down, then he leaned back and looked down the table at his brother. He left Lamont scowling at him for several minutes.

  “We were just talking about our new arrival,” Arik began, addressing Nik.“What can you tell us?”

  Nik surveyed the room, not turning his head as he did this. Everyone waited. “She's not happy here,” came his deep voice, revealing nothing but matter-of-fact.

  Arik raised his silver brows. “Well that's understandable. Anything else?”

  Nik focused on the old man, trying to read between the lines. “Just ask me what's on your mind, Arik.” His low voice had a hold over everyone in the room. It exuded authority and none of them, not even the Head of Council, could avoid the dominance of it, especially when he told them to do something.

  His voice had a power over all of them. They all knew it but couldn't really explain it.

  He was the Pack Leader, the Alpha. And they accepted it.

  Arik gazed at him levelly. “Do you think she's... the right one?”

  Nik looked Arik straight in the eye. “Yes. I do.” He saw the flash of doubt in Arik's eyes. “I was mistaken, with Lora,” he began, lowering his head for a moment. Then he looked back up at Arik and scanned across the room as he said, “But I don't regret it. She was a special woman and she was family, no matter what we've seen. No matter how she died. If she wasn't a so-called pureblood, it changes nothing. I loved her. As far as I'm concerned she was still one of us and I will challenge anyone who says differently. She was still my mate. Bond or no bond.”

  Arik nodded his head gravely. Maria gazed at Nik and he glanced her way. They exchanged a look -a glimpse of the grief they had suffered from her loss- and then turned away from each other.

  “She was a rare, lovely creature, no doubt about that,” Arik agreed and mumbles in the room concurred. “What do you think we should do about Jasmine?”

  “I don't think we'll have any trouble with her. She might not trust any of us but she has enough curiosity to stick around,” Nik responded reservedly.

  “What has she been told?”

  “That she was adopted. That she isn't human. At least not in those words anyway, but she knows it herself, even if she continues to deny it. That she will continue to have changes physically and mentally and won't be able to handle it alone. She's scared but those in surveillance haven't seen her step out of line.”

  “She did try to escape however?”

  “She tried,” Nik replied with a smile of recollection.

  Arik didn't question further, instead he changed course. “And does she know about you and Lora?”

  *

  Jaz stared at Driver, her feet glued to the ground in terror. The strap of her bag dug lines in her palm as she gripped it tightly.

  He was sitting up, propped on his hands, his rippling, chiselled torso exaggerated by the moonlight.

  She stared at it longer than she shou
ld have and before she knew it, she suddenly felt a fire in her chest, her belly, her thighs. She flinched, recoiling from the irrational, repellent feeling. She was so embarrassed.

  He glimpsed the redness of her cheeks and heard her heavy breathing and rapid heartbeat. It made him want her. Thirsty, craving heat fizzed through his body, centralizing in his groin. He'd never wanted someone so badly. He studied her pale face which was luminous in the light from the window; her bright eyes marking him, discerning his every move.

  He saw how beautiful she was, how the light caressed her delicate frame, her soft, pink lips, her narrow cheekbones, her long dainty neck, slinky, sweeping shoulders, slim arms. Her chest, her waist, her curvy hips. All were tensed, ready to run- though he knew if she was going to, she would have by now.

  He tried to absorb everything he could about her whilst she stood there, enabling him to study her openly. All barriers momentarily stripped from between them.

  They both gazed at one another with the same yearning -despite Jaz trying to fight it; it felt like electricity shooting from one person to the other. A continuous circuit.

  She finally managed to stop the link between them, snapping her gaze away to focus on the ground.

  He scanned her body, head to knees – her lower legs hidden below the bed- before speaking. “If you want to leave,” his low, velvet voice was a little breathless, as if speaking took a lot of effort, “no one's stopping you.” He watched as she avoided his penetrating glare, focusing on her long lashes and the even longer shadows they cast down her narrow cheeks. “But... is that what you really want?”

  She flicked her eyes up to lock on his and studied him for a moment.

  She hadn't failed to notice that he had been looking at her the same way she had him. She felt extremely uncomfortable, and flattered, and repulsed. Her head was a mess -and on fire but that was from some kind of fever she suspected she was developing due to an infection. Most likely from the roadkill she'd wolfed down the day before.

  The thought made her scowl at him, and if she wasn't so terrified of him she'd have snarled a list of profanities the length of her leg. Instead she said in an acidic voice, “Of course it's what I want. And you're stopping me. Why d'ya think I was trying to sneak out in the middle of the night?” She kept her cool, not wanting to imagine how he'd punish her for that. She was bewildered to find his expression at her response was... understanding.

  Mind games.

  “I'm not stopping you, you are. Because deep down you believe what I said is true,” he replied quietly, with his deep, rumbling voice. She frowned at him, annoyed. “So, do you want to leave?”

  “I don't have a choice,” she retorted.

  “Everyone has a choice,” He argued. She huffed, folded her arms and shook her head, looking away. “Just some are harder than others,” he added softly.

  She stopped shaking her head, and focused on him. They stared at each other again. She could feel her defenses chipping away, so before she broke down in front of him, she gave him a harsh glare, put her arms by her sides and growled, “Don't talk to me,” then turned and strutted back to her room.

  She slumped onto the bed, lying on her front. Then she squished her face into the pillow to muffle her sobs.

  ~Chapter 15- Hide~

  Saturday May 14th, 10:23 a.m. - Jaz's Room

  Four days after her attempted escape, Jaz was sitting on her bed when Driver came back from his morning duties.

  She was gazing at her toes that had been cleaned and had fresh plasters on them, with one of Skye's herbal concoctions she'd applied to the healing wounds before covering; the tips of her toenails partially visible above the white plasters.

  The strawberry-blonde had left just as Driver had arrived.

  They'd passed each other in the hallway and he'd asked how Jaz was feeling. She'd replied with, “Put it this way, anything you're planning on saying, say it gently.”

  He frowned at her, not sure of what she meant exactly. Skye grinned and skipped away, her satchel swinging in her hand. He watched her leave for a few seconds before turning round and heading for his bedroom.

  He leant against the doorway of her room, watching Jaz silently for a minute before he knocked lightly on the door. She whipped her head up in his direction. She was still edgy around him but at least she didn't try to attack him with mirror shards. He rubbed the spot on his arm where she'd slashed him. It was a small cut now, and fading fast.

  She watched his right hand with the chunky silver ring, move up and down his bicep, which was covered by his plain white, round-neck t-shirt. She bit her lip fleetingly. She felt terrible for cutting him, because it was something she'd done in a rage. She hadn't been herself. No matter how she felt about him, trying to slice him open had been the wrong thing to do.

  If he'd really been trying to harm her, maybe then she'd see it differently. But she knew now anytime it had seemed that way, she'd been wrong. Though she still couldn't trust him, or believe he would never try and hurt her, she could admit when she was wrong- to herself, mind, not to him.

  “How are you?” he asked, glancing at her bare feet. She'd painted the nails red and cut them straight so they almost appeared 'normal'. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

  “Peachy,” she said facetiously, glowering at her feet and swinging them back and forth above the floor.

  “I'm not here for small talk,” he grunted.

  She looked at him properly for the first time. Her eyes squinted slightly as if trying to figure something out before relaxing to normal size. “Okay.”

  “I want to know if you feel any different since you've been here?”

  She kept her face aimed in his direction but turned her eyes to one side, thinking about it. He could see the question bothered her. “I already told Maria,” she replied shortly.

  Maria had come to visit her the day after she'd tried to sneak out. Then everyday after that when Jaz seemed to take to the old woman. And she genuinely did like her, though she wasn't stupid enough to trust her. She enjoyed the old woman's company.

  On the third day, Maria had told Jaz her true identity. She was her grandmother. It wasn't a complete shock to her when she put all the pieces of information together, but it had still surprised her. Maria was Erica's mother, and her father's. She also had an Uncle Garik though he was 'out of town' Maria had said.

  She'd also told Jaz about Lora. Her twin. The sister she'd never known. How she'd died. That she'd lost her son. Jaz's nephew.

  It tore at her heart to think that so much time had been stolen between Jaz and her sister. Jaz didn't know how she felt about the fact that was her parents doing. The parents who had abandoned her. She didn't understand why they would do that. Maybe if she knew them she could figure out the meaning behind their actions. But right now, she tried not to think about it and she didn't ask Maria about them. She wasn't ready for that yet.

  And she wasn't ready to ask her about the strange changes to her body either.

  She'd tried to ignore it, clinging to the pathetic hope that if she ignored it long enough it would eventually go away.

  But of course she knew it wouldn't.

  Something was happening to her, she could feel it. And though she didn't know what it was, because she hadn't asked -she was too afraid of the answer- she knew it was here to stay.

  She hated Driver bringing it up. Saying she'd told Maria -which she had, in short, hedging sentences- was just a cop out.

  And Driver was no fool.“I want you to tell me,” he pushed, gazing at her unblinking.

  She exhaled. “I don't want to talk about it.”

  Driver stepped into the room. She leant back, wanting to lift her legs away from the edge of the bed where he was stood inches away from. She didn't because that would show her fear. She craned her neck up at him.

  He eyeballed her. “Is that why you've never asked what you are?” he questioned. She shook her head -more to tell him to shut up than to say no. “You can't run away from it.
”

  “Stop! Okay just stop!” she snapped. He blinked and closed his mouth. She huffed. “I'm just trying to deal with one thing at a time, so will you just back off!”

  He backed away holding up his hands- very patronizingly she thought -in surrender. His back reached the wall and he slid down it, sitting on the ground, his elbows resting on his knees that were clothed in dark denim. He gave her a look that said 'I'm waiting'.

  She glowered at him, folding her arms stubbornly across her chest. She kicked up her legs and rested them on the bed, crossed-legged. She then gazed out the high window. The sun was shining. She hadn't been outside in over a week. It made her sad.

  Just tell him. Maybe he'll let you go out?

  She swallowed her pride, slumped a little and unfolded her arms, placing them either side of her hips. “Fevers, aches, stronger...senses.”

  Driver looked up the moment she spoke. He'd been gazing down at the floor, giving her a little privacy to be alone with her thoughts. Now his eyes were burning with interest as he studied her. “Aches where? Which senses?”

  She hesitated before answering. “All over. Even when I don't have a fever, but worse when I do. And my hearing, sense of smell. Maybe my sight, not sure.”

  “You've had five fevers in a week?” She shrugged. “How long does it last?”

  “The longest was a day. That was yesterday. It was much worse.”

  Driver nodded, as if expecting this answer. She waited for him to speak. “What about, cravings?”

  She blushed automatically. She'd had many cravings, and not all in the same category. She'd die before she told him the sordid ones. Instead of answering, she just nodded. Driver guessed what she'd been through over the past week, because he suffered the same kind of cravings everyday.

  “Even though it's disgusting... and I feel sick just thinking about it... I want... like... raw meat.” She was surprised she was confiding in him like that. So was he. She eyed him insecurely.