“You know ... us.”
He opened his eyes, revealing the tiniest bit of yellow at the edge of his irises, then shook his head. “No. Not here. My mom also used to say that places like this were for quiet contemplation only. You didn’t do anything of importance here – ceremonies, any of that – without expecting consequences.” He blinked and his eyes were back to being dull-old Jerry eyes again. “Craig doesn’t really believe any of that, but there’s a spot deeper in the woods he likes better anyway, kind of our pack’s meeting place. There’s a lot of deer, no humans within spitting distance, and it’s far from the road.”
“Sounds dreamy,” I replied deadpan.
“Once you’ve been there enough times, it’s easy to find. You’ll get used to it. After all, it’s going to be your new home.”
That last part had come out of his mouth easily and naturally, as if it were law. But that was the first I’d heard of it. “Hold on. New home? I thought you lived...”
“With my mom? Yeah, but she’s not going to let you move in with us.”
“So I’m supposed to change my name to Sheena and live in the woods instead?”
Jerry’s eyes opened wide for a moment, but then he laughed. “It’s not that bad. There’s some cabins there. Craig had them built a few years back. He’s going to give one to us.”
“Oh, so it’s Daniel Boone instead.”
“Who?”
“Basic American history?”
He let out a nervous laugh. “I wasn’t really a good student.”
Color me surprised, but I held my tongue. This conversation wouldn’t go well if I immediately laid into him about being a fucking idiot. “Okay, so about why I wanted to talk to you...”
“I thought we were talking about that.”
“No.” I stepped forward, toward the middle of the clearing, and that buzzing in my bones intensified again. The hell? Was there a powerline buried here? “You were talking about me moving into a cabin in the middle of werewolf woods, something I hadn’t agreed to. What I wanted to talk about was our mutual ... expectations, if you will, for our married life.”
“Expectations? Like what time you should have dinner ready?”
Had he put even the slightest amount of attitude into that, I’d have knocked him clean across this clearing, but it seemed we were back to clueless Jerry again. So be it. If one of us was going to hold up this conversation, it might as well be me. “That’s one expectation. Not one I have, mind you.” There was no point beating around the bush, literal or otherwise. Besides, the sooner we finished and left creepy hollow here, the better. “What I mostly mean is our marriage and our ... relations after. As in, there won’t be any.”
“Relations? Like talking to each other?”
“Like sex!”
“How are we supposed to have pups then?
“Pups?”
“You know, babies, or whatever they’ll be like with you?”
Whatever they’ll be like ... no. I wasn’t going to take the bait. “Simple. We don’t.”
“But Craig said...”
“I don’t care what Craig said. I haven’t been privy to those conversations. It seems this past month everyone has been talking at me or about me, but nobody’s bothering to talk to me.”
A worried look crossed Jerry’s face. “He told me we had to do it. Consummate the marriage, that is.” Big word for such a dimwit, but this wasn’t a spelling bee, so I let him finish. “That we’d eventually need to raise a family in the tradition of the pack, so long as they came out ... normal. But he also said I’d need to show him proof.”
“Wait up, hold on a second.” I wasn’t sure where to start, because Jerry had just dropped two brand-new bombshells on me, neither of which were going to make this bride blush with anything but anger. “Proof? Meaning what?”
“That we did it. I don’t know exactly what he meant. Video maybe, I guess.”
My left eye twitched and again the wind sounded like disembodied whispers. I imagined they were telling me to do some very not nice things to Jerry. It did nothing to improve my mood. “And that thing about normal puppies ... err, babies?”
“Oh, that,” he replied, his tone conversational as if we were back at the store, discussing potato chips. “He was pretty specific that they had to be like me. Normal werewolves. No more half-breeds or weird stuff like that. That’s why he wanted you to mate with one of us, make sure we neutralized the unsavory elements of your genes.”
Once again, Jerry seemed to spontaneously jump about fifty IQ points. As he spoke, I once more detected the slightest hint of yellow in his eyes. It was like his wolf half was the smarter of the two, and it was gradually growing more dominant the later it got.
I glanced at the lengthening shadows. The sun was starting to set, the gloom threatening to overcome this place. Up in the sky, the full moon was just barely visible. It wasn’t in all its bloody glory yet, but it was definitely a sign that the day was transitioning to night and my time was growing short. Worse, it would soon be dark and I’d still be in the hollows.
A shudder passed through me, but then I realized Jerry was still talking – with no sense of irony whatsoever – about us raising litters of normal werewolves. I forced myself to focus on that and my growing annoyance with it.
“Okay, stop right there. For starters, you can forget about taping me for Wolfhub or whatever it is you guys jack it to. Ditto on your werewolf eugenics program. I’m stating it here for the record: there will be no sex. Our marriage is one of convenience only. I’ll join your pack, follow your rules, do what I have to so we can keep the peace between you guys and Hogwarts on the other side of town. But you and me, it’s not happening. Sorry, but you’re not my type – my type being guys I’m not forced into an arranged marriage with. You can take that fifteenth century shit and stick it where the sun don’t shine.”
Oddly enough, that should have been this clearing, as the sun had slipped down far enough for us to be cloaked in shadows. Yet we weren’t. Despite the very edge of the sunlight barely touching the eastern tip of the glade, it was almost as if this place glowed with a light all its own. Some weird trick of refraction maybe. No idea. Physics wasn’t my top subject.
“None of that matters.” Maybe it was another trick of the weird light, but I could have sworn I saw more yellow in Jerry’s eyes. The more important question, though, was whether he was seeing the proverbial red in mine. “Craig told me what we have to do.”
“I don’t report to Craig.”
“You will. He’s our alpha.”
“And you seem to be forgetting there’s a difference between being a good pound puppy and being a slave. Craig can tell me where I need to live, how to act in public, all of that. I don’t like it, but I’ll go along with it. But he can’t tell me what to do with my own body.”
“But I’ll be your husband. You’re supposed to obey me.”
I turned and threw my hands up in frustration. Only in the middle of fucking Pennsylvania would you find a group of werewolves worshipping some ancient Germanic god, yet perfectly willing to also go along with backwards Bible bullshit. I swear, some preacher somewhere would have a field day with this bunch. “I think we should have a little discussion about our vows tonight.”
“And even if you don’t,” Jerry continued, ignoring me, “you still have to do what Craig says. Everything he says. You know what will happen if you don’t.”
I spun and stalked toward where he now stood, near the western edge of the clearing. He should have been draped in shadows, but instead, stood in sharp contrast to the rapidly darkening woods behind him. What the fuck was it with this place?
It didn’t matter. I had bigger fish to fry. “Can you honestly tell me you’re okay with that? There’s a whole town full of people minding their own damned business and you’re fine with dropping a death sentence on them?”
Jerry looked uncomfortable, but it only lasted for a moment. Then he merely shrugged. “Craig’s the alpha
.”
All at once, I saw why my uncle had picked this guy ... well, aside from the fact that he’d been at my place that day. Jerry was a follower, someone who’d happily munch down Tide pods if he thought everyone else was doing it. He was a foot soldier, one who did what he was told under the auspices that those who were doing the telling had the authority. Go back seventy or eighty years and he would’ve been a happy little Nazi leading Jews to the gas chamber all because he was told to.
Worse, I had little doubt he would be the first to look confused if someone tried holding him accountable for any crimes he committed following those orders.
As much as he physically repulsed me, this side of him – the unquestioning follower – made me despise him.
The whispers on the wind, the thrumming in my bones from this weird-ass clearing, being in the hollows after dark, all of it had put me on edge and this asshole was making it worse by the second.
But if I thought that everything he’d told me up until then had been playing with fire, what he said next really lit the fuse.
“Craig’s the alpha,” he repeated. “He said that if you don’t do what you’re told, then what happens next is on your head. And to make sure you know it, he’s going to start with that friend of yours, Riva Kale.”
“What?!”
CHAPTER 24
Unable, and maybe unwilling, to stop myself, I grabbed Jerry by the lapels of his Shop Haven shirt, spun, and threw him toward the center of the glade.
He landed with a heavy thud, rolling head over heels, but I was on the move before he’d even slid to a halt. I pushed him down and straddled him – the closest he was going to get to cowgirl style. His eyes were dazed but when he opened his mouth, fangs began to sprout. It made me remember the last time I’d been in these woods, how weak and helpless I felt as a monster toyed with my friend’s life. And now they were daring to threaten her again.
Barely aware I was doing it, I hauled off and slammed a fist into the side of his face, resulting in an audible crack. I let another punch fly free, then threw back my head and screamed in both fear and rage, the sound echoing across the clearing.
My own voice reverberating through the trees cleared a small bit of the blinding emotions swirling around in my head, enough for me to regain control. I climbed off of Jerry, stood, and pulled him up with me.
Balling his shirt in my hand, I lifted him off his feet. “Why did you say Riva’s name?” His reply was a snarl, which did nothing except set me off again. I slapped him across the face, the impact like a shotgun blast in the clearing. “Focus, Jerry. Tell me how you know about my friend.”
He reached up and tried to grab hold of my wrist. His strength was definitely no longer human, or at least not what one would expect from a guy who looked like he did, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle either. If he was trying to make a fight of this, he was barking up the wrong tree.
I drove a fist into his stomach. “Tell me about Riva!”
He was desperately trying to change now, getting both heavier and hairier, but I guess some concentration was required because each time I hit him, he seemed to revert back. I didn’t really care so much about keeping him human, though, as much as I did making sure he could still talk.
“Tell me!”
Finally, Jerry held up his hands in surrender. He was stuck mid-transformation. His body had enlarged to the point where his clothes were strained. Wicked claws had sprung from his fingers and coarse, thick hair covered most of his body. He sorta looked like how one might picture a Neanderthal ... assuming Neanderthals wore shirts proclaiming them to be proud members of the Shop Haven team.
His face had begun to elongate, but he was still able to speak. “It ... was Craig.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“H-he ... he ordered us to stay in High Moon after we confronted you at your home.”
“Stay?”
Jerry nodded. “We parked down the block, waited to see if anything would happen.”
I definitely remembered that day – storming out, heading over to my friend’s house to commiserate while she made bad jokes at my expense. “You followed me?”
He nodded again. “We asked around town, staked out her place later that night. Learned what we could.”
“Why?”
“Leverage. Craig wasn’t sure his threat was enough. Thought you might try to bolt or get that witch involved.”
“You didn’t think threatening to murder the entire town would be enough to sway me?!”
Jerry ignored my question and kept talking, his voice growing more gravelly with each word. “Don’t trust witches, or those connected to witches. Needed to ... make sure you understood.”
“Understood what?”
“Your family ... is protected by the treaty,” he growled, “but your friends aren’t. Make sure you knew that disobedience would be met with blood ... those you loved most. If you ... didn’t obey, he was going to send me ... to ... do ... irrrr!”
The rest was lost in a snarl, but I understood enough. I never suspected my uncle could be such a cold-blooded bastard. And this monster had willingly gone along with it, had happily agreed to be Craig’s hitman.
I barely noticed that his weight was no longer on my arm, that his feet were now planted firmly on the ground. As he finished confessing, Jerry also completed his transformation, adding a good foot to his height, not to mention fur and lots of sharp teeth. I’m sure it was an impressive sight, but all I saw at that moment was red.
The sons of bitches. It was bad enough they’d threatened my town, people who had nothing to do with this. If it had been a bluff, that would be one thing, but listening to Jerry, I was now convinced it wasn’t. That wasn’t good enough for them, though. They had to make it personal. My uncle and his buddies wanted me to hurt, and for what? Because I was different, something new, something they didn’t understand?
I hadn’t wanted to become their enemy, but they seemed dead set on making me one. Maybe it was time to accept that.
Jerry grabbed hold of my wrist and yanked it away, tearing what was left of his Shop Haven shirt.
Had the asshole tried to apologize, shown even the slightest hint of remorse, I might have cut him some slack. There was that old saying about not shooting the messenger. But he was in this too deep. Even if he didn’t have the brainpan to grasp it, he was still a willing participant.
Worst of all for him, he was right there in front of me when I lost my fucking temper.
Completely transformed as he was, Jerry’s strength increased by a considerable margin. Factor in his teeth, claws, and size advantage and nobody would have blamed me for being scared, especially out here in the hollows again.
Too bad for him, being the underdog was nothing new to me. I’d been one for my entire wrestling career, competing in a sport where I was often dismissed as a mere novelty. This was no different, save for one little detail – I wasn’t actually the underdog in this fight.
Jerry bent down, lowering his head to no doubt try and bite my face off. That was awfully thoughtful, putting himself well within reach of my much shorter arms. I offered him my thanks by way of a roundhouse punch to the muzzle.
Then I followed up with another, just in case he didn’t feel that first love tap.
Drool flew from his mouth with each blow. Gross. Bad enough these things were man-eating beasts of legend, but they were slobber monsters, too. Ugh! It’s one of the reasons I had never wanted a Saint Bernard.
Jerry took a wild swing at me, claws and all – telling me he meant business – but I ducked, sidestepped, then brought up a knee into his midsection.
He doubled over, wheezing, so I grabbed him by his stupid wolf ears and forced him to face me – noting that even as a werewolf, his skin was still wart-covered. “You tell Craig to stay away from my friends, away from my family, and the hell away from me!”
I shoved him back, hard enough so that he landed flat on his ass. My point hopefully made, I started
to turn away. If this kept up, something bad was going to happen. I tried to tell myself I didn’t want that, yet was more than aware that a part of me very much did. This wasn’t the first time I’d rearranged someone’s face for giving my best friend grief, but most of that had been nothing more than petty kid stuff. This ... this was different. They’d threatened her life. It was ... I could...
I could hear those strange whispers again – much louder this time. They were unintelligible, yet it somehow felt like they were egging me on. What the hell was up with this place? The sun was rapidly setting now, darkness taking over, yet the clearing still had a strange luminescence to it, almost as if it were glowing with its own power. Whatever was going on, I needed to get out of there, stop breathing the fungus spores or whatever the fuck was in the air.
That would have to wait, though. Footsteps registered in my ears, coming up fast. Freaking Jerry. Too brainwashed to say no to murder and too stupid to know when to stay down.
Enough was enough.
I spun and crouched at the same time. Jerry’s momentum carried him forward, and my arms did the rest, catapulting him over me and sending him flying.
There came a high-pitched yip from behind me. I turned to find Jerry had landed on the business end of a root sticking up at the very edge of the glade. He’d been impaled through the stomach and was now lying there with a jagged shard of wood sticking through his gut.
Crap!
It was ugly, and for a moment, my heart went out to him. I’d just meant to rough him up a bit, send a message, nothing more. But then I remembered what Dad had told me about werewolves healing quickly. Hell, I’d seen it with my own eyes.
While I didn’t pretend to know the limits of their powers, it wasn’t like I’d shot him in the face with a silver bullet, assuming that wasn’t Hollywood bullshit. Still, I couldn’t just leave him like that.
I stepped forward and he whimpered as I approached. “Oh, relax. Serves you right for being an asshole. Let’s see if we can get you off of that.”
He took a swipe at me the moment I was in reach, causing me to pull back just in the nick of time. “Knock it off, dickhead. I’m trying to help you. I’ll get you back to the edge of town. After that, you can find your own way to the hospital ... or vet.”
Get Bent! (The Hybrid of High Moon Book 1) Page 17