by Naomi Clark
Strong hands grabbed my jacket collar and Oscar hauled me round again, eyes wild and wide. “Just a small loan,” he growled, dragging me in so he could shove one hand into my jeans pocket. “You’ve got to have something. I need it, Ayla, I need it.”
His touch revolted me and I reacted without thinking, yanking free and slamming my fist into his nose. Blood spurted over my hand and Oscar reeled back, shock on his face. “You cow!”
“Don’t you dare touch me again,” I snapped, hot anger flaming in me, calling the wolf once more. Maybe it was the Silver Kiss smoke in my lungs, but I suddenly felt dizzy and punchy again. If Oscar so much as breathed at me, I might just rip his throat out.
He jabbed me in the shoulder. “There, touched you. What are you going to do about it?”
I slapped his hand away, hovering on a knife’s edge between walking away and turning violent. My wolf soared up in me, howling for violence, driven to breaking point. I bunched my hands into fists, feeling my nails prick at my skin as they elongated and sharpened, changing. “I mean it, you little—”
“Oscar!”
We both whirled at the voice. A thick, gravelly voice, like the owner wasn’t used to talking. He leaned against the wall at the end of the small alley, masked by shadows. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to see him to know it was the feral. His musk was unmistakable and it pushed me right over that edge.
I rushed him.
THIRTEEN
The feral straightened up, bracing himself for my attack, but I never reached him. Oscar tackled me from behind and we went crashing to the concrete. I hit the ground face first with a short howl, scraping my cheek and chin. My skin burned and I struggled to roll over. But Oscar had my arms pinned to my side and all I could really do was thrash my legs and snap at the empty air.
The feral crouched in front of me, giving me my first clear look at him. Even in human form he looked wild, rough. Dark stubble lined his narrow face and his hair was disheveled and lank. His amber eyes shone and I noticed with a start that they were wolf eyes, alien in his human face. He grinned at me, baring sharp canines. He’d spent too much time in wolf shape.
“Hello again,” he growled at me, then jerked his head at Oscar, a silent signal from a dominant wolf to a submissive.
Oscar let me up and I jumped to my feet with a snarl, shoving him away from me.
“Bloody runt,” I muttered, rubbing my face. Oscar bared his teeth at me and I thought he might go for me until the feral stepped in, yanking Oscar aside.
“Got my money?” he asked. Oscar paled visibly.
So this was Sly. It sort of made sense and sort of confused me at the same time. Why the hell would a feral get into drug dealing? What did he need the money for? Ferals lived wild—no need for the material trappings that urban wolves had. I pushed down my burning desire to slam his head into the wall as payback for the other night and watched Oscar instead.
“Yeah, I got it. Got most of it.” Oscar dug in his pockets and handed Sly a worn brown envelope. “I’m a bit short.”
“How short?” Sly opened the envelope and inhaled, like he could count the money by the smell of the notes.
“Not much,” Oscar said quickly. “Couple of hundred, but that’s okay right?”
Sly backhanded him with a snarl. Oscar’s head snapped back and he staggered into the wall, whimpering. I growled, forgetting that I’d wanted to do the same thing a few seconds ago. Oscar was Pack, Sly wasn’t. It was that simple to my wolf. I caught Sly’s wrist when he went to smack Oscar again.
“Don’t,” I warned.
Sly turned those inhuman eyes on me and bared his teeth again. I had a sudden flashback to our fight, the frigid cold of the river. I didn’t want to fight him again—I doubted my chances were any better in human form than they had been in wolf. But I didn’t want to see him bully Oscar either.
“Got a problem, bitch?” he asked me.
I squeezed his wrist. “Yeah, you, you bastard. What the hell are you doing, anyway?”
He pulled free with little effort. “Kid owes me money. Not your business.”
“It’s Pack business when you start beating up Pack kids,” I said.
Oscar crept around behind me, clinging to my coat. Funny how we were suddenly united.
“I’ll get the rest,” he whispered. “I can it get from my dad, I just need another day, that’s all. Come on, Sly, there’s five hundred quid there. That buys me something, right?” he pleaded. “Just a couple of smokes.”
Or maybe we weren’t united. The idiot child was still only interested in getting his drugs. I shook him off and faced Sly. “The Pack knows what you’re up to,” I told him. “You’re not going to be able to set foot in this city again after tonight.”
Sly spat at my feet. “I don’t answer to Pack.” He moved towards us and I snarled, flexing my shifted hands so the streetlights gleamed off my claws. Sly stared at me, eyes narrow and wary. “I’m not scared of you, bitch.”
“Your mistake,” I replied.
We sized each other up as we had before. I still didn’t fancy my chances against him, but at least in human form I could kick him in the groin. That wasn’t an option for wolves, really. For a few nasty seconds, I thought he would lunge at me. A low bass growl rumbled through him and he arched his body as if about to pounce.
I tensed, ready for his attack and trying not to think about our last fight.
Then an ambulance shot past Happy Jack’s, siren blasting, and Sly leapt away from me as if burned. Oscar took advantage of his distraction to dart back through the fire exit into the club, leaving me staring at Sly’s back.
I wet my lips, hesitated a second, then charged him.
Attacking him from behind was cowardly. I couldn’t stop myself though. Here was a chance to work off all the anger and aggression I’d been carrying around since our last encounter. I hit him hard, knocking him to the ground as Oscar had me. Sly roared and flipped us over so I was pinned beneath him and bit into my collarbone, tearing flesh from bone.
I howled and slammed my hand into his neck, shoving his head away from my shoulder. He snapped at my fingers and I head-butted him as hard as I could. The impact made my skull crunch with pain and Sly reared back with a shout. For a second we both reeled, then he leaned in to snap at my face.
His sharpened teeth snagged on my lip ring and he yanked hard. Agony shot through me, racing through my head and down my spine so I could feel it in my toes as he tore the ring out and my lip ripped.
I shrieked, pulled back and head-butted him again, then snapped at him, catching hair. Sly twisted his head, trying to avoid my teeth and by pure, dumb luck, I clamped onto on his ear and bit down until my teeth clashed together. Pain rocked through me in a second wave as I bit into my split lip.
The taste of flesh flooded my mouth and I gagged, spitting out blood and probably bits of my own lip. Sly smacked me hard, sending stars spiraling across my field of vision. I closed my eyes and gagged again, waiting for him to rip my throat out.
Noise and chaos spilled out into the alley and footsteps thundered around my head. I heard shouting, swearing. I dimly picked out Shannon’s voice somewhere in the babble and opened my eyes again. A knot of people surrounded us, all yelling and waving their arms. Sly leapt off me and shot off out of the alley like his tail was on fire. A few people separated from the crowd to run after him. Someone leaned down and offered me a hand up.
I grabbed it and let them pull me to my feet. My rescuer was a wolf; beyond that I couldn’t say anything about him. I was almost blind with pain. I slapped my hand over my bleeding mouth and staggered away from him, hot and dizzy. I leaned against the wall, pressing my grazed cheek to the cool stone and fought the urge to throw up.
“Ayla!” Shannon shoved through the crowd to reach me, sheer panic etched on her face. “Oh God, Ayla…” She pried my hand away from my face and gasped, turning chalk-white. “Ambulance!” she called. “Someone call an ambulance!”
I t
ried to speak but it hurt too much. I settled for sagging against the wall, trying to figure out what had happened, mentally kicking myself for letting Sly get away. I glanced down the alley but he was gone and the few who’d started after him had already lost interest and were milling around me instead.
“What happened?” someone asked. “Who was that?”
Oscar elbowed his way to the front of the swarm. “Ayla, fucking hell, you crazy bitch!” He was pale and shaking, eyes too bright. “Did he take my money?”
A surge of hatred shot through me. I balled up my fist and punched him in the head. He hit the ground like a stone and people started screaming and yelling again. I closed my eyes, clapped my hand over my throbbing mouth again and wished them all away.
It was hard to convince Shannon I didn’t need an ambulance when I couldn’t speak properly. Once the crowd decided the theatrics were over and went back into Jack’s, I was left with her, Moira, a groaning Oscar and a killer headache. And mouthache. Lipache. Something.
“You’ve got to go to hospital,” Shannon insisted as I limped down the alley away from the club. “Ayla, please!” She trotted after me, anxiety radiating off her. Moira helped Oscar to his feet and they trailed after us, Oscar alternatively muttering about assault and asking Moira for money.
I shook my head at Shannon, made a slashing motion with my hands. I couldn’t stomach the thought of hospital. I just wanted to go home and clean myself up.
“The police then,” Shannon said. “We should report this—you were assaulted! This is grievous bodily harm!”
Again I shook my head and turned to Moira, hoping she would get it, one wolf to another.
“Ayla will have healed by the time we get her to hospital,” Moira said, apparently picking up my silent plea. “We should get Oscar home first, anyway.”
“I’m not going home! I’m not a baby!” Oscar pulled free from her and glowered at me. “I should bloody sue you, hitting me like that. That was an unprovoked attack! And I still haven’t got any bloody Silky. Fucking waste of a night!”
“So the wolf attacking Ayla was your dealer?” Moira asked.
“Yeah and fat fucking chance he’ll be back now.” Oscar fidgeted with his shirt, twitchy again. “Where else am I supposed to get Silky now?”
“Where did Molly Brady get it?” Moira asked.
Oscar shrugged. “Everyone gets it from Sly. And now Ayla’s cocked that up, hasn’t she?”
I couldn’t have cared less and if I’d been able to speak without searing agony, I would have told him that. Shannon glanced over her shoulder, frowning at him. “He can get himself home, surely? If Ayla won’t go to hospital, I’m taking her straight home and I don’t want to drag some junkie dog around with me.”
Oscar flinched at the dog comment. “Fine, fuck off. I don’t care. I hope Sly gave her rabies.” He gave me the finger and slunk off, mumbling under his breath.
Moira watched him go, eyes narrowed. “He’s going to get himself into trouble tonight,” she said.
“I don’t care,” Shannon replied. She slid her arm round my shoulders. “It’s not our problem.”
We made our way back to the car in silence, dodging the few gawkers who stopped to get a look at my bloodied, swollen face. My cheek flared and ached where Sly had hit me and my whole body stung. I was sick of getting beaten up by that feral. Next time he could just eat Oscar alive if that’s what he wanted.
***
It was close to midnight when we got home. Shannon had dropped Moira off along the way and spent the rest of the ride checking that I was sure I didn’t want to go to hospital. I just kept shaking my head.
Moira was wrong; I wouldn’t be healed by the time I got home, but there wasn’t much a hospital could do to speed up the process. All I wanted was a hot bath, not hours sitting around in the emergency room waiting for some nurse to poke me and shove painkillers down my throat.
Our street was in darkness when Shannon pulled into the driveway. I dragged myself out the car and limped to the front door, waiting for her to catch up. My night sight being keener, I saw the graffiti on the door before she did.
“This is exactly what I was talking about before,” she began as she joined me. “We—” She trailed off as she saw what I was staring at. “Oh hell.”
That about summed it up. Once again, the Alpha Humans’ insignia was sprayed across the woodwork, this time with the legend abomination painted above it. It was chillingly similar to the scene of Adam’s murder. The same word had been sprayed on the wall over his body. My heart skipped and Shannon gripped my hand tight enough to make me wince.
“We’re calling the police,” she said, voice tight but determined. “Right after I’ve taken care of you.” She unlocked the door and ushered me inside.
Her hands were shaking as she sat me down in the kitchen. I stared at the tabletop, listening to her messing around in the cupboards, looking for the first aid supplies she kept. Abomination. The word was branded into my mind’s eye. Without thinking I bit my lip, then howled. “Fuck!”
“Ayla!” Shannon was next to me instantly, a damp cloth in hand. “Let me see.” She moved my hand from my mouth and pressed the cloth to the wound. It had stopped bleeding in the car and now I’d opened it up again. “You might need stitches,” she told me, sitting down next to me and twining her fingers with mine.
“Be alright in the morning,” I managed to say around the cloth. “Should shift.” The idea of shifting made my head ache even worse though.
“Do you want anything? Painkillers? A drink?
“Bath?” I asked hopefully.
“I’ll run one for you.” She stroked my hair. “I’m sorry, Ayla. I’m so sorry.”
I looked at her questioningly. It wasn’t her fault I had to go picking fights with bigger, badder wolves.
“I shouldn’t have agreed to help the alphas. I should have just left things. I just wanted…” She waved her hands, as if the words had escaped her. “I’m sorry I said all those things. I didn’t mean any of it. I’d die if I lost you, Ayla. I’d just… I couldn’t cope.” Her blue eyes gleamed with tears and my heart squeezed. I gripped her hand, not too hard, but hard enough to tell her I was sorry too.
“Love you,” I said.
“I love you.” She kissed my forehead and rose. “I’ll go run you a bath.”
I slumped back in my chair, pressing the cloth harder to my lip. Damn that feral. I’d liked that lip ring. I huffed, thoughts switching between the Alpha Humans’ little love note and Shannon. Did Shannon’s words mean things were okay again? I’d thought we were heading for another argument there on the doorstep, before we saw the graffiti. She’d been about to say I told you so, hadn’t she?
I ran my free hand through my hair, trying to push everything aside. We could deal with it in the morning. I did agree with her on at least one point: she should never have agreed to help Eddie.
A few minutes later I hauled myself upstairs. Shannon was just turning off the taps as I entered the bathroom. Fragrant steam rose from the tub, perfuming the room with orange blossom. I stripped and plunged in, moaning in bliss as the hot water hit my skin. Shannon perched on the edge of the bath, finger-combing my hair for me.
“I’ll tell Eddie tomorrow we’re done,” she said.
I nodded, ducked my head under water and rose up again, shaking off like a…well, like a wolf. The water stung my lip, but it was a better sort of pain, a clean pain. I touched the split lightly, winced and reached for the shampoo.
Shannon took the bottle from me and started lathering up my hair. “I can’t take the stress of seeing you hurt like that again.”
“S’not great for me either,” I said, closing my eyes. Her fingers working on my scalp felt delicious, diffusing my thoughts and melting away some of the aches.
“No, of course not.” She fell silent for a minute, stroking my bruised face with soapy fingers. “I really think we should consider moving back home,” she said finally. “I know thi
s city has a reputation for good human-wolf relations, but this graffiti…and after yesterday too… I don’t feel safe here, Ayla.”
The graffiti freaked me out the least. Alpha Humans weren’t really that active here; certainly less so since Adam’s murder. I was fairly confident graffiti was the worst we would get from them. Sly was the bigger threat. Not to us personally, but to the Pack. Whatever he was doing affected the whole Pack and while a part of me agreed with Shannon, a bigger part of me felt I couldn’t just run away.
That was old ground now though. Saying it would just turn into another row about Pack that I didn’t want to have right now. So I just nodded and enjoyed the feeling of her hands working on me, the hot water lapping over my tired body and the scent of flowers wafting around me.
When the water grew cold, Shannon helped me out of the bath and we went to bed. I fell asleep with her arms around me, hugging me like I might vanish in the night and I dreamed of blood-red graffiti and the gravelly howl of the feral.
***
The sound of my phone ringing broke the heavy fog of my sleep. I groped around on the bedside table for, knocking the damn thing under the bed in the process. I opened my eyes and rolled to the edge of the bed to reach under it. By the time I’d retrieved the phone it had stopped ringing. I swore and checked the caller ID.
Vince. For some reason a tremor of anxiety shook through me. Sitting up and brushing my hair from my eyes, I called him back. Next to me, Shannon muttered something unintelligible and snuggled closer to me, her face pressed against my thigh.
“Ayla, you okay?” Vince asked as soon as he picked up. “I heard about last night.”