Sinning Again

by Heidi Lowe

  I turned to leave, the hurt making me angry, the anger making me nauseous. Why was I looking out for her when she didn't give a damn about me? Whatever the Weres had planned was her problem, not mine.

  But instead of walking out the door, I charged into the living room. Why was I looking out for her? Because I loved her. Plain and simple. When you love someone, even when you're not together, their well-being never stops mattering to you.

  Everyone's eyes were on me. Jean and Nadine smiled when they greeted me, Robyn gave a stiff hello. Even that was a big step for her. It was too early for me to expect a smile.

  "Good to see you, Lissa," Nadine said, and she really sounded as though she meant it.

  "You, too," I said. I looked at her sitting beside Robyn, recognized that closeness that new couples have when they can't sit beside each other without at least one part of their bodies touching. Did she know how Robyn felt about Jean? Had they talked about that yet? Did it even matter anymore? They were obviously crazy about each other.

  "Would you like me to get you a glass, Lissa? There's plenty more," Jean said, holding up a bottle of wine. The expensive kind that I couldn't distinguish from the cheap kind, with my unrefined, peasant tastes.

  "No, thanks." I would have loved nothing more than to sit with them, drink with them, laugh with them, love with them. But this wasn't my life anymore. I would have been the odd one out, the awkward, pitied invitee who didn't fit in at the party.

  "Are you going to paint?" she asked.

  "No, I, uh..." I scratched my head. "I wanted to talk to you, when you have a minute."

  "Of course. Excuse me." She got up and followed me into the hallway. "What's up?"

  I couldn't help looking at her chest, emphasized by her tight-fitting burgundy sweater with the low-cut neckline, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her pants were crisp white, never off-color. This woman could have worn anything and still looked ravishing. And then there was me, in a crumpled T-shirt and faded denims, scuffed sneakers, smelling like dogs and disinfectant. Why hadn't I gone home first to change, instead of coming straight here? This look was sexy to no one, not even the blind.

  "It's probably nothing, but do you know anything about platinum powder, and why someone might have some?"

  She blinked at me, eyes wide. Then she frowned. "That's an odd question."

  "I know, and random. But I saw something–"

  "Where did you see it?"

  "Well, a friend of an acquaintance had it." I wasn't ready to say who; I didn't want to cause undue trouble for Dallas.

  She regarded me with a steely stare. "How much was there?"

  "I don't know. Maybe half a kilo."

  She was silent for a beat while she pondered what I'd said, then she turned back to me, her face serious. "Unless the person is a platinum-smith and makes jewelry for a living, there's only one thing anyone would need that much platinum for..."

  "What?"

  "Platting."

  I gulped once, then once more in hopes of moistening my now dry throat. It didn't work. I'd suspected something like this. But didn't Petr say that humans were the sole perpetrators of platting?

  "And there's no other reason why someone might possess that much?"

  "Maybe... But you should be the judge, Lissa, of what the more likely explanation is."

  As soon as I said goodbye to Jean and left her house, I took out my phone, texted Dallas, and told her we needed to talk.

  It came as no surprise when she didn't reply.

  And then, out of the blue, a few days later, someone else showed up at my workplace. Someone very unexpected.

  "Georgia just got a promotion, so if Diane did have to cut our hours, we wouldn't starve," Raymond explained that afternoon, while we assembled a new cat climbing frame that had arrived earlier that day. Lots of bits and pieces, and unfortunately instructions that had been translated (badly) from German. The finished product, as it was shown on the box, looked magical, the thing of kitty dreams. The dogs would be envious.

  "She'll be all right with you sitting in front of the TV all day while she brings home the bacon?" I joked.

  "First of all, she doesn't eat bacon, she's allergic to pork," he said, with mock offense. "And second of all... Hey, your girlfriend's hair has grown a lot since the last time I saw her."

  Even if Raymond hadn't alerted me to the visitor, the sudden roar of barking and rattling cages would have gotten my attention. Although not as loud or raucous as the first time, it was still very much alarming.

  "Shut up, stupid animals!"

  "Wow, and she has a lot more attitude."

  I sighed and got to my feet. "That's not my girlfriend." No, but I totally understood the mix up.

  Although Gina had a completely different style, was much more femme than Dallas, under the right light they could have passed for twins. Though Gina's face was slimmer, and had a lot more of a constant scowl to it.

  Just as before, Raymond went off to settle the animals. Diane and Camille poked their heads out of the office to see what the commotion was, then immediately ducked back inside.

  "This place looks like a lot of fun," Gina said, tossing her long blonde hair out of her face.

  "I think so. That's all that matters," I said defensively. She was making fun of me, naturally. I wouldn't have expected any different from her. "What do you want, Gina?"

  "Relax. I didn't come to start any trouble." She put up her hands. "I come in peace."

  I narrowed my eyes at her, my suspicion at its highest. I didn't think this girl had a peaceful bone in her body.

  "Let me guess, you were just in the neighborhood, thought you'd stop by, say hello to your ex's new girlfriend? Right."

  She laughed, but not from her eyes. "Not exactly. As you probably already know, it's Dallas's birthday tomorrow."

  I nodded, even though this was the first I'd heard of it. I didn't want her thinking we had communication issues.

  She grinned. "Well, we're throwing her a surprise party. Nothing big, just close friends. Anyway, we thought you might like to come along, celebrate with us. It would mean a lot to Dallas."

  If my eyes narrowed any more they would have closed. "Me? But you all hate me. Why would you want me there?"

  "It's true we are...let's just say wary of outsiders. But, well, Dallas really seems to like you. We're all willing to put our differences aside, even if it's just for tomorrow night."

  "Really? Just like that?"

  "Look, you wouldn't be our first choice for her–"

  "No, you'd prefer it to be one of you, someone from her family."

  I saw her smile falter, but it stayed in place. Being here, being civil was agonizing for her, it was written all over her face. Maybe this was an olive branch.

  "Will you come?"

  I didn't have anything planned, and I also wanted to see Dallas. This would be my opportunity to confront her.

  "Why not? It's for Dallas."

  "Great! Go to the south entrance of Brady Creek Woods and someone will be waiting for you. Get there before eight."

  She gave me one final smile then turned to leave.

  "Wait. Have you been here before?"

  She frowned. "To this shelter?" She shook her head. "No."

  "It's just that the animals don't seem to like you very much." I didn't want to believe what was staring me right in the face, something that hadn't crossed my mind until then. But all the clues pointed to Dallas's pack being responsible for the attack on the shelter a few months back. The animals remembered them, feared them.

  Dallas and her pack, if I was right in my assumption, and Jean was right in hers, were racking up an impressive rap sheet of violent crimes.

  "Oh, that. It's just animal instinct. See you tomorrow."

  That was all the answer I would get out of her, and it cleared up nothing.

  I played dumb when Raymond questioned why my friends kept setting the animals off. Even though I was fairly certain they were responsible for the
attacks, I didn't have the heart to tell him.

  We were well into fall, and the nights were starting earlier. So by the time I got off the bus in Brady Creek, the sun was just a distant memory. The sky had that violet hue to it that made it look majestic and enchanting, helped by the pale yellow moon. Like a ball you could just reach up and grab. It always looked so close.

  I looked at the paper in my hand, on which I'd scrawled directions from the bus station to the Brady Creek Woods. Just a ten minute walk between the two.

  Cory was waiting for me at the start of the trail, at the south entrance. Seeing him brought relief. I'd assumed no one would be there to meet me, that Gina was playing a trick on me.

  "Hey," I said.

  "Follow me," he said, his voice gruff and grumpy. He didn't smile, barely even looked at me.

  "I tried to get here earlier, but the bus got caught in traffic."

  "Whatever."

  I followed him into the woods, and tried to keep up, but it was difficult in the boots I'd chosen to wear. Foolishly, I dressed for a party, forgetting that there would be at least a little bit of walking to do.

  "Hey, wait up. This is the fastest I can go," I called to him, as he disappeared in the distance, the darkness. "Cory? Where are you?"

  No answer came. I'd lost him in minutes. And now, I was lost.

  "Cory?" I shouted to the quiet woods. Not quiet, silent.

  I stopped walking, held my breath while I listened for even a stir in the distance. The flapping of wings from an owl taking flight. The scurry of some raccoon or other animal on the prowl for something to eat. But there was none of that.

  There was just me, in the lifeless woods.

  And that was when I really noticed it. Peeking out through the trees, hanging high in the sky. Not close, not obtainable like it looked. The yellow moon. The full, yellow moon!

  My breath caught in my throat. I had no time to panic the way instinct said I should. I turned and started back the way I'd come.

  The first howl made me freeze. I stood in place like a statue, even though I should have been running for my life.

  The second, which was quickly followed by another, and another, made me want to wet my pants.

  I took off through the trees, running from a predator I had not yet seen, that knew these woods far better than me, and who could outrun me. I heard my heartbeat pounding in my ear, felt the blood rushing to my head.

  Something jumped out at me, knocking me to the ground. It struck my face. I could hear the claws scraping the bone, tearing my flesh. I screamed, the pain blinding. My eye throbbed, my vision slightly blurred.

  Gradually one wolf after another appeared from behind the trees. Yellow eyes shone from gray-black fur. They didn't look like the ones from the movies, nor from my own painting. And they were much bigger than normal wolves. Their bared fangs shone with saliva and intent.

  One jumped on my chest, winding me, making me choke for air. I could almost feel my ribcage caving into my lungs. I wanted to scream for help, but couldn't.

  Claws tore at my legs, at my stomach. So much pain, so little air. I was going to die out here.

  I heard the sound of a car horn in the distance. I'd obviously managed to run far enough to get close to the entrance. The road was near. If I could just get up, I could try to make a run for it.

  And then I remembered the mace in my purse. I punched out at the snarling face on top of me, managing to hit it a couple of times, giving me just enough time to reach for the mace.

  I pressed down on the can and didn't stop, catching a couple in their faces, and causing them to recoil in agony while I scrambled to my feet, barely able to breathe, and backed away.

  Then I took off running as fast as my wounded legs and battered ribs would allow, grimacing all the way. Tumbling through the trees, hardly able to see where I was going, praying to God I reached the exit before they caught up to me.

  I ran straight out onto the highway, causing the first car that saw me to swerve and skid to a stop mere inches from me.

  "Help!" I breathed, clutching at my chest, my voice a broken whisper.

  Two women jumped out of the car.

  "Oh my God, is that Lissa?" I noticed Nadine's face first. Then I saw Robyn, as she rushed to my side.

  "Yes. Open the door, quick." She grabbed me around the waist, which made me cry out in pain. And I threw my arm around her neck as she half-dragged me to the car. Nadine opened the door and they loaded me in.

  "Behind you," I said in a choked voice.

  A lone wolf stood there. It howled, clear and menacing, its yellow eyes glistening in the moonlight.

  "Get in the car," Robyn screamed to Nadine.

  But she went to the trunk instead, flipped it open, and when she appeared again, she was clutching a baseball bat. Just as well because two more wolves had joined the first.

  "I never was a fan of wolves, or dogs. So, come on. Make my day," she said. It was as though her voice had switched, like someone else had entered her body. Gone was the softly spoken, gracious restaurant owner. The woman before me was in full warrior mode.

  Two came at her at once, and I wanted to close my eyes, certain she would be mauled to death in front of us. But when she swung that weapon, as though she were a power hitter, it caught them both in the face. The howls were deafening. I almost felt the vibration as the wood connected with their bones.

  "Come on!" Robyn screamed, slamming the door behind me then tugging on Nadine's arm.

  Nadine must have decided that she'd been brave enough, because she jumped in the driver's seat, waited until Robyn was in, and we screeched off.

  "Where's the nearest hospital?" Robyn asked.

  "About five miles away."

  I coughed and wheezed for air. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

  "Can you hold on that long?" Robyn turned back to me, her face showing real concern.

  I tried to nod, but I was in too much pain.

  Could I hold on? Well, that wasn't really up to me now.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  "Jean, calm down."

  Robyn immediately regretted that particular choice of words to her boss and friend. Telling anyone in this condition to do the one thing they couldn't do was asking for trouble.

  So when Jean turned on her, eyes filled with rage, jet black pupils standing out against the pale flesh, she wasn't at all surprised.

  "Don't tell me to calm down! You're the last person I want to hear that from."

  "I told you she's fine."

  "I don't care what you said," Jean bellowed.

  She couldn't stay still. She wandered this way and that in her living room, not sure what to do with her hands; not sure what to do with the news she'd just been given.

  She shook her head, her hair now messy after having run her hands frantically through it. "I knew it was a bad idea. I knew I shouldn't have listened to you."

  Everything Robyn said had to be carefully thought out, because this was truly the angriest she'd ever seen Jean, and she knew her words could send her over the edge, simply by virtue of them coming from her mouth. Someone had to be blamed here, and she was the prime target.

  "This has nothing to do with that."

  "Of course it does. You and your stupid, fucking advice." She shook her head over and over and said again, "I never should have listened to you."

  Now Robyn regretted opening her mouth. She should have stayed out of it like she promised herself she would. But it made so much sense, present circumstances excluded; it had worked well enough. Getting her boss to realize this in her current state, however, was a challenge.

  "She had to find out about them on her own, and find her way back to you on her own. That's what she did."

  "I didn't want her to find out like this. Goddammit!" Jean's hand went through her hair once more. "Push her away, you said. Pretend that you don't care. Make her work for your love." She said it in a mock tone, so unlike herself. The hysteria was distorting her character be
yond recognition. "And look what happened. Just look what that achieved. Those fucking animals!"

  Jean caught her breath, and felt the trickle of warm tears down her cheek. They weren't tears of sadness, but anger. Pure, venomous anger that was tearing her up inside.

  The only thing standing between her and immediate revenge was the fact that Lissa was lying in a hospital bed, torn up, battered and bruised. Her Lissa.

  "I didn't feel her," she sobbed. "Why didn't I feel that she was in danger? Am I losing my connection to her?" That was what worried her the most, not being able to feel her, to protect her. It was bad enough that she couldn't be there for her during the day, now she was ineffective at night, too.

  "You couldn't have done anything. This isn't your fault."

  "I told her it was over, and pushed her straight into the arms of that savage dog. Who else's fault is it?"

  Robyn knew it was a rhetorical question, and that if she attempted to answer it with the truth – that Lissa herself was to blame – it wouldn't have gone well for her. Jean was at her most unpredictable when Lissa was involved.

  "I have to see her, I have to be with her," Jean said, flustered.

  "You know it's against the law for you to go to hospitals."

  "I don't care what the fucking law says! I need to see her. I need her to know that I'm sorry, that I've never stopped loving her." She practically shoved Robyn aside as she made her way to the door.

  "You'll be arrested the second you step foot in the parking lot. Jean, this is silly. She needs you to be here when she gets out."

  That made her stop. Her shoulders sagged, like all the life and hope had been sucked from her. She stood in the middle of the hallway, a woman without a plan, a woman who'd been defeated. You could be immortal, and you could be fearsome, but those things only got you so far. At the end of it all, there were still werewolves and laws and sunlight and all the other things that stood in your way.

  She'd never felt so helpless in all her life; she'd never felt so human.

  "How bad is she? And be honest."

  Robyn let out a shaky breath. "Her ribs are fractured. There are a few deep cuts that will need stitches." She didn't mention the scratches on her face, the ones that the doctor said might leave scars.