Hunting for Love

by Amelia Wilson

  This is bad… very bad.

  Setting Lucy on a lounge chair, I winced at the pained cry that burst from her throat. Memories of my own first shift flooded my mind’s eye as my hands hovered over her chest and belly. That’s where it started, spreading from the spine out like fire that attacked each nerve ending.

  “Wait a minute—where’s Ryan? Lucy, where’s your brother?” Taking her face in my hands, my fingers shook slightly from the apprehension running through my veins. Lucy’s teeth were stained with blood, and she choked as tears streamed from her eyes. “Never mind— just try to relax. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

  Stroking her wet cheeks with my thumbs, my own breathing started to shallow out. This is going to be a long night…

  For a long while it was just writhes and whimpers as Lucy’s body prepared to shift. The heat pouring off her made me sweat, and my palms slipped over her skin when I pulled her shirt up under her breasts. Her half naked, creamy flesh didn’t entice me as it twitched and wavered, but I was glad she wore only a camisole and shorts.

  “Okay, Lucy, sweetheart, it’s going to get bad soon, you understand? Don’t fight it—or her. Just let it happen. Do you understand what I’m saying?” There was a glassy daze to Lucy’s unfocused orbs, and I pursed my lips together when she didn’t react. “Crap, she can’t hear me…”

  Even as I stared at her, her pupils restricted into fine spots, and her face turned ghostly white. A sickly crackling sound echoed in my ears beyond the blood that hammered my eardrums. Jerking violently, Lucy’s shriek sliced through the air as her back arched at an unnaturally sharp angle. Pressing my palms against her chest and abdomen, a grunt threatened to break the seal of my lips as I forced my eyelids to stay open.

  Watching Lucy was painful, but I knew it wasn’t nearly as piercing as what she was going through. Shifting didn’t hurt me anymore, but the memory of that day was something that stayed with me. It was almost too much to handle, and I remembered wanting to die to relieve the pain.

  With each sickening crack that echoed through the otherwise silent night, I winced. Blood seeped from Lucy’s nose and eyes, dribbling in thick blobs from her mouth as her skull plates shifted. The head was the hardest because our brain stayed the same size, so all shifters were extremely large. All I could do was hold her down as my eyes misted over, my mind ignoring the sticky, warm substance that coated the front of my pajama pants.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay; it’s almost over, Lucy. It’s okay…” Mumbling through trembling lips, my assurance came before my gaze raked down Lucy’s body. Her face wasn’t human at all anymore, but her fur hadn’t started to sprout yet. Long, disfigured limbs crisscrossed her torso over ribs that were large and protruding. Black, curved claws replaced her fingernails, but she couldn’t move them to scratch herself. It was grotesque to see even though I knew it would get faster and more urgent.

  Thick skin hung in sheets over her, the only part of Lucy that still resembled human. She was pale in most places, and blotches of darker color was appearing on her flesh.

  She looked like a bear without a single strand of fur and human skin tone, and I frowned at the sight. She’s so small…

  Realization hit me right in the gut, and I jerked as the air flew from my lungs. Lucy didn’t have the strength to finish the shift; it came way too early. If she couldn’t finish, that meant she couldn’t shift back, either.

  Shuffling to her head, I stroked Lucy’s muzzle as her eyes moved every which way. It looked like REM sleep, but she was actually delirious. Every shifter went through it in varying degrees; the pain was just too much to handle.

  “Lucy, Lucy, you can’t stop now. You’re not done yet. Keep going. I know you can do it.” Whispered and soft, my encouragement fell on deaf ears. Squeezing my lips together tightly, I heaved a shaking sigh before pushing myself to stand. My feet stuck to the wood from the blood that coated and pooled under the lounge chair. Shoving my pants down, the pads of my feet stuck and crackled as they peeled from the glue-like half-dried blood.

  My bear lunged forward without so much as a grunt, forcing the shift onto my body. I made no move to stop him, his worry and fear a palpable taste on my tongue. Dropping onto all fours, my ankles were instantly coated in a thick layer of blood. The porch creaked from my weight, but, in that moment, I didn’t think about breaking through it.

  Nosing around Lucy’s limp, trembling body, my tongue sneaked out to swipe the mix of blood and sweat from her hip. She didn’t react at all as I lifted one paw to carefully nudge and pull her off the chair. Hitting the ground with a sickening, wet thump, she didn’t make a single sound.

  And that’s when I really began to panic.

  Okay- okay… think, Jon. Damn it, think… think… That was where my thoughts ended, though, and my instincts began. Crawling carefully onto her chest, I stomped down as firmly as I dared. My bear was frantic, his low, husky growls and calls sharp. They echoed through the sleeping forest and the streets of town at the end of the short, wide driveway.

  Pausing only to lick Lucy’s bare muzzle, my heart raced too hard and fast while hers was barely pumping.

  Chapter Eleven: Lucy

  “—cy… Lucy, please wake up… Please—please—please…” Soft and gentle, yet sad and panicked, the shaking call jerked me out of the black abyss that enveloped me. My heavy eyelids fluttered open, and I took a deep, shuddering breath of thick, copper scented air. Wincing slightly at the headache that threatened to split my skull, it took me a moment to focus.

  The dark blob hovering above me slowly became detailed, and I blinked hard before Jon’s face became clear. He was red and raw, his eyes swollen and his lips quivering even as they stretched into a smile.

  “Oh, God. Lucy, thank God. I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up…” Sniffling hard, Jon’s voice cracked harshly as he touched my face with shaking fingertips. “You scared me so bad… Your heart stopped and I-—I tho—”

  A sob replaced his words, and my brows came together sharply. Jon left my field of vision, his hands traveling down the length of my body all the way to my toes. My lips were stuck together, the skin ripping as I forced them open to suck in air. Cotton lined the roof of my mouth and my tongue, and I groaned softly before I saw Jon’s face again.

  “Oh-h-h…” Carefully slipping his arm under my neck, Jon slowly sat me up to hold me to his chest. Petting my dry, hard hair with long strokes, he rocked back and forth as I tried desperately to get the world to stop spinning.

  “God, God, I thought I lost you, Lucy.” The banging against the front of my skull was dying down even though I was moving, and a small frown pulled down my lips. Squeezing my body, Jon gulped harsh breaths as I stared listlessly into the gray gloom around us. My mind refused to work, and no thoughts were even made, let alone processed.

  “Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere? Do you remember what happened last night? Do you know where you are?” Jon’s barrage made me queasy, and he pulled back only slightly. I could feel his gaze on my face, and I gulped down the dryness in my mouth. His questions went in one ear and out the other, and through half-drawn lids I managed to glance at him out of the corner of my eye.

  “Wh— what…?” Croaking out a question of my own, I winced as my throat burned. Jon’s eyes went wide, and he pursed his lips into a thin line before shaking his head roughly.

  “No, forget it, Lucy. Let’s get you cleaned up and hydrated, okay? Just relax. I’ll take care of it all.” Hooking an arm under my knees, Jon wasted no time before hauling himself to his feet with me against his chest. His steps were loud in my ears, and I could hear the slight creak of the front door. Even the crickets were nothing more than mere wisps on the wind, and the first of the birds sang softly through the trees.

  I had never been inside Sylvia’s house, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything but the new lines on Jon’s face. In the dark, I could see each one of his sharp features. There were short, dark hairs sprouting from his chin, as if he hadn�
��t shaved in a few days. With weak muscles, I managed to reach up, and his jaw clenched under my touch as he swayed from his gait.

  “You scared me so bad I’m surprised I’m not gray, Lucy. Jesus Christ…” My hand fell back into my lap, limp, before Jon started up the stairs. His declaration only drew my frown deeper, and his brown eyes flashed as they flickered to me. “It’s okay. I’ll explain.”

  Jon warned me before he flicked the switch to turn the bathroom light on, and I hissed as bright, yellow light skewered my brain. Hiding my face in his shoulder, my abdomen tensed and my toes curled in discomfort. Softly he shushed me, murmuring soft, sweet things in my ear as the light gradually stopped piercing my eyelids.

  Blinking hard, I peeked out from the safety of his solid, defined contours. There was nothing particularly grand about the bathroom. Everything was cast in pretty, pale blue tile, with white to break it up. The sink was chrome, there was a mirror above the vanity, and a shower/bathtub ran the length of one wall.

  “Don’t be alarmed, okay, Lucy?” Stepping before the rather large mirror, Jon’s voice made it impossible to focus on my reflection for a second or so.

  But it was only a second, and it passed by quickly.

  Blood caked my face in thick, wide lines that spread from my eyes and nose. My hair was stuck to my cheeks, but it looked like the area around my eyes had been wiped off. The red reached down my neck and chest where it crackled like that nail polish that had been popular when I was younger. This didn’t look pretty, though. I looked like I had died in some horrific way.

  Your heart stopped… Jon’s choking sob breathed my stale mind, and I blinked at the person that stared back at me. I did die… I did die…

  My gaze trailed to the dark skin tone that so drastically contrasted mine, and my eyes widened.

  “Y—you… you br–rought m–me b–back…” Slurring in pain from the ache in my throat, my revelation ran together as one long word rather than four separate ones. In my reflection Jon’s bare chest expanded, and it felt weird against my side. It was like what was happening was fake.

  “I’m going to tell you everything, Lucy. I just want to get you in the shower first, okay? You’ll feel a lot clearer then.” Forcing my gaze away from the mirror, Jon turned around to face the shower. The curtain was cute, semi-transparent, and there were little flowers covering the plastic. Pulling it back, the rings sliding along the pole grated my ears, and my entire body jerked away from the sound.

  “Crap, I’m so sorry. I forgot you’re not used to it… which is a really shit excuse, idiot.” Grumbling to me and then himself, Jon shuffled me slightly before reaching to turn the shower knob. The sound of the spray was gentle as it poured out of the waterfall head, and my skin itched under the layers of sweat and blood.

  “Can you stand by yourself?” My eyelids popped open at the question, and I let out a rasping gasp as part of this puzzle fell into place. It wasn’t a big or very important section, but it still made me tense as an ache built in my chest.

  We were both naked and bloodied, and he wanted to get into the shower with me.

  “Y—yes… I can do–o it…” These croaks seemed to be the only sound I could make, and Jon squeezed my body. Slowly, though, he lowered my bottom half, and I winced as my feet touched the ground. Sharp pins and needles shot up my legs and spine, and I dug my nails into his shoulders. With a grunt, he picked me up again, his muscles flexing under my palms. Letting out a shaky breath, I closed my eyes as the tingling died down almost instantly.

  “Guess not. Just so you know, you have permission to hit me or something after this, Lucy. I know it’s not your choice, and I’m sorry.” Without so much as a breath of his own Jon stepped into the shower, and my already tense body coiled even more tightly. I could barely feel the water hitting my hair, and the mass didn’t shift even in the slightest. Blood had caked it, turning it into a hard mass at the top of my head whose tendrils stuck to my face and shoulders as if they’d been glued there.

  With slow movements Jon set down my legs again, but this time my feet didn’t touch the floor. Just one of his long, sinew braided arms wrapped around my back, keeping me supported and freeing one of his hands. Gentle, soft fingers were steady now as they started to pick at the ends of my hair. Only our chests were pressed together, but it was still awkward enough to make his touch slightly less noticeable than usual.

  “I’m sorry. But—okay, you know what? Never mind. I’ll just tell you what happened during the night.” Resting my cheek on his chest. Jon’s words rumbled along the bones in my face before he cleared his throat. “You showed up on the front porch at, like, 2 a.m., and you were going to shift. It took you about a half an hour before your body started to reform, and it was… it was insane. You were in so much pain, and I couldn’t do anything about it. The blood—there was so much blood, Lucy—too much blood. But then, when you were finally a bear, you couldn’t finish the shift. You had human skin tone and no fur, and you were out of energy… and then—and then you—you stopped breathing. Your heart—it stopped beating… I—”

  Cutting himself off, Jon took a shallow, sharp breath as steam made the air heavy and thick. His voice was scratchy and harsh, and my skin crawled at the sound. He never sounded that way before; it was foreign and almost unnatural to hear.

  “I didn’t know what to do… I had shifted at that point so I could barely think. I just… kept… banging your chest…” Once again he had to stop, and my ears twitched at the sob that hiccupped against my cheek. Tears welled in my eyes, but if he could smell them he made no reaction as his words rained down on me. “And then you started to shift back into a human, but I was so afraid. I was afraid you wouldn’t wake up, Lucy. I was afraid the strain of shifting put you in a coma, or you were braind—dead…”

  Licking the water from my lips with a dry tongue, my sniffle was loud and abrasive as I tried to clear my stuffed nose. Against my chest, Jon’s shuddered violently as he gasped for a breath.

  “I’m sorry, Jon…”

  Chapter Twelve: Jon

  Setting Lucy on one of the couches in the living room, my eyes scanned her form and for a moment appreciated my handiwork. Her hair was no longer matted, running in damp, loose waves down her back. I’d freed her beautiful, porcelain skin of everything that clung to it, and I even managed to get behind her ears.

  But her chin was about as far as I went, and I knew that under Lucy’s borrowed shirt, flakes of bodily fluids still clung to her. Even now that we were both fully clothed I could feel the discomfort rolling off her.

  Blinking at the soft, appreciative rumble that came from my inner beast, I shook my head before breaking the silence.

  “I’m going to make some coffee. Do you want some water, Lucy?” I felt like I’d aged a hundred years overnight, and I turned on my heel to hide my grimace after Lucy nodded. Exhaustion was starting to creep in, but I couldn’t give in yet. Lucy still wasn’t stable; she couldn’t walk and I knew her consciousness was weak.

  The magical scent of coffee was enough to wake me up a little, and the pot bubbling was welcome after the past few hours listening to hell. Ducking to peer into the refrigerator, my hand wrapped around a water bottle even as my eyes slid to the 24-pack of beer on the bottom shelf.

  No, Jon. No drinking. I’m not a damn alcoholic and this isn’t stressful enough to make me one. Scowling at the box, I pulled myself from the fridge to shut the door and resist temptation. Of course, I can’t drink! It’s not even 7 a.m. and if anything Lucy should be the one going bottoms up.

  “Here.” Passing Lucy the opened water bottle, all vestige of my bad mood vanished at her small smile. She was so frigging beautiful, and now she glowed in a way she hadn’t before last night. I could so easily sense her slumbering bear now, and it made mine inch towards the surface. He didn’t try to get too close or take over, but he was close enough to make my skin prickle slightly.

  “Thank you, Jon.” Small and a little high pitched, Lucy’s thanks b
rought me out of my own head. The bottle shook as she lifted it to her lips, and my muscles jumped at the sudden desire to hold it for her. I knew I couldn’t get that close right now, though. Our shower together had been uncomfortable, but more than that it’d been unwanted. It was only out of necessity since she couldn’t take a bath with that much caked onto her.

  No matter how my mind tried to twist it, Lucy didn’t want to be that close with me at this point in our togetherness.

  “You’re going to be okay, Lucy. It’s not uncommon for that to happen, you know? I just… I thought that you’d have an easier time of it.” Carefully dropping onto the couch a good distance away, I leaned back and crossed my legs one over the other. I couldn’t help but snort internally at my own miscalculation, though. Teach me to underestimate stuff again, that’s for sure.

  “It didn’t happen the first time, though…” Trailing off, Lucy turned her questioning gaze to me as she took another sip of her water. A small, sad smile graced my face, and my fingers itched to touch her before I balled them into loose fists.

  “Your beast is weaker than it was back then, Lucy. She’s so weak you couldn’t even finish the shift; you only got half way. I’m actually surprised you even shifted back considering the state you were in. When a shifter dies in their animal form, they don’t revert back to human. They stay that way. But maybe it’s because you came back. I don’t really know to be honest… I’ve been meaning to ask you, though; why didn’t you go to Ryan? Why come all the way across town like that?”

  It had been bugging me, and for a very good reason. If Lucy hadn’t come all this way she would’ve been able to complete the shift and even remain conscious. That knowledge set a deep, dark rage burning in the pit of my stomach, and my fists clenched tighter.