Blood Rush: Book Two of the Demimonde

by Ash Krafton

  "If you change in this house, it'll be right before Rode kills you."

  "Then make sure he doesn't." His voice was hard. "I haven't done anything wrong. Don't let something happen that you'll regret."

  My gut instinct knew he told the truth, and his forceful attitude convinced me to believe him. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't give him the chance to prove his innocence.

  I didn't want Rodrian to hurt him if he was innocent, either. If I couldn't trust Toby, he couldn't stay—and being less than fond of kicking orphans out into the street, I didn't want to make that decision until there was no other choice.

  Toby was right. This was the only way to prove it hadn't been him and solve all those problems.

  "All right, I'll tell Rode. Just...stay out of sight today, okay? Don't give him an excuse." As I headed to the door, I remembered something else. "I thought you might be hungry today. Bethany made ham and loaded up your fridge."

  "Ooh, ham?" His eyes lit up with delight. "Thanks, I owe you one."

  "Not that crap again," I retorted and left.

  That evening, Toby sat cross-legged inside a huge steel cage, trying to look nonchalant about sitting in his shorts in front of a room full of hostile strangers.

  I didn't like the cage. The bars were a prison, humiliating and dehumanizing. However, it was the only way Rodrian would agree to Toby's request. He wouldn't take any chances, he'd said.

  I glanced up at Dahlia and Shiloh, who were sequestered on the top of the stairs close to the safety of the office. They had a clear view of the cage down in the foyer but were well out of harm's way. Rodrian stood with them, staring imperiously down at the cage like an emperor waiting for a sacrifice.

  The foyer itself had been closed off completely; even the pocket doors of the dining room had been drawn out. The white walls seemed endless and encapsulating, a cage of its own.

  Seven of Rodrian's men surrounded the four sides of the cage, standing against the walls. They stood as impassively immobile as the Buckingham Guard. Earlier, upon their arrival, Greco had lifted his chin at me in greeting. Caen had given him a harsh reprimanding glare, which I knew Greco must have privately blown off. He liked me more than he respected Caen.

  Caen took up position in front of the door, facing Rodrian. He wore a sinister smile as if he'd been promised he'd get to hurt someone tonight. It only made me hope he'd end up in a friendly-fire accident.

  I was torn between my loyalty to Rodrian and my concern for Toby. I'd glanced up at Rodrian several times but he wouldn't even look at me. He gave me the clear impression he was still angry that I'd go through this much trouble for a Were.

  Well, screw him, I thought. Toby had never shown anything other than goodness since he'd followed me home. I wouldn't cut him out of my life until I had proof he needed cutting. He'd get the chance that Rodrian hadn't given me, when Marek dropped off the grid and decided that abandoning me was easier than dealing with his stupid "issues." Double-screw him with a wire brush.

  I wandered back to the cage and crouched next to it, alongside Toby.

  "You okay?" I said in a low voice, but it carried in the silence, amplified by the natural acoustics of the room. I didn't have to look at Rodrian's face to see his disgusted expression; he broadcast it at me, making sure I had no doubts about how he felt.

  "Jerk," I muttered. Raising my mental barriers, I blocked Rodrian out. "Not you," I added when Toby looked at me questioningly.

  "It's ok," he said. After a pause, he added: "Soon, it'll be soon."

  "Is it going to hurt?"

  He shook his head. "I've been doing this for too long for it to really hurt anymore. It's just how it is."

  "Oh." I thought it sucked when someone had to accept pain as a normal part of life.

  "It's ugly, though. You don't have to watch if you don't want. I promise I won't go no where." He reached over and poked at the cage before looking back over his shoulder at the faces staring down at him. "And you probably want to back up. It gets pretty messy."

  "I'm not going anywhere." I was determined to conquer my fear of Weres once and for all. If I couldn't witness this, I'd be sunk. "We're going to show them all together."

  Despite the cage and the impending change he man-aged a smile, but it wavered. "I guess we are, and how—"

  The "how" trailed off into a sound of pain, soft and full. Slowly, he pushed to his feet but ran out of room. Hunched over, he glanced at me and shook his head. Tall kid in a cage too short for him. It wasn't right.

  He stretched his arms, looking stiff as he hooked his fingers into the iron grid above him, and hung his head. "Are you ready?"

  Before I could say "no" he dropped into a hunch again, curling into a tight ball and hugging his knees. Pain drew his brows down, and beads of perspiration began to glisten on his temples. Toby's breathing quickened and he rocked, trying to ride out the pain.

  "Toby?" I whispered.

  "I'm o—oh..." His voice melted into a moan. "Back up!"

  Breathing became panting, labored gasps of pain.

  Powerless to help him, I clung to the cage, unable to slip even a hand through to touch him. He rolled his eyes toward me, the look full of desperation and madness and agony.

  He stopped breathing.

  Stopped breathing, stopped rocking, just stopped. His eyes glazed over.

  "Toby?" I tapped nervously on the cage. "Toby? Toby!"

  "What are you doing?" called Rodrian.

  "He's not breathing. Something's wrong with him." I banged at the cage, trying to make him move. "Toby!"

  "Back away." Rodrian's voice was taut.

  "No. Something's wrong!"

  "Back away, Sophie. Do it now!"

  Without warning, Toby exploded.

  Really exploded.

  His flesh cracked like thick wax, splitting down his arms, his back. It split and spread as something bigger struggled to free itself of its shell.

  With a roar it erupted from the encasement that had once been Toby's body, fragments flying and splashing in all directions. I recoiled, pelted by chunks of wet congealed flesh as I stood two feet away from the emerging wolf.

  Toby's neck cracked, his head separating from his shoulders, and he shook it free. It slid loose and fell, hitting the side of the cage like an empty hat. For a brief moment I could still see Toby's features on it. It looked like a latex mask, mouth open in a silent scream, before it began to melt into itself.

  I ripped my eyes away from his discarded human face and looked up into his new one—wolf.

  Free of the old skin, its features rapidly filled out. The snout pushed itself longer into a muzzle. He bit away the waxy flesh from his claws, claws that scraped away the huge chunks that still clung, glistening, to his slick new form.

  The wolf, drenched in slick gel, looked matted and newborn. Stretching his hind legs, one at a time, he pointed his nose toward me, sniffing, scenting me, before turning to examine the others in the room.

  And just like that, there he was. Full wolf, standing a few feet from me. No menace, no threat. I forgot the slime that dappled me and approached the cage, staring in wonder. "Toby?"

  The wolf yawned once before shaking himself vigorously, spraying me with sticky globs of werewolf glue. I yelled and backed up, too late.

  Toby barked softly, almost a chuckle.

  "Laugh it up," I warned. "I can always have you fixed."

  Rodrian shot me a bolt of power and a look of impatience as he descended the stairs. "Is it done?"

  "Uh, yeah, I guess." I remembered why Toby was imprisoned and decided to get the trial over with. Toby paced around the cage, turning to face the girls for inspection.

  Rodrian gestured to the girls, drawing them forward to the balcony railing. "Is this the wolf that attacked you last night?"

  Dahlia still looked a little dumbstruck by Toby's transformation, her mouth open in a tiny O. Shiloh gave her a rude jab with her elbow.

  "Quit staring like that, you freak," she h
issed, before leaning over the rail. "Is he in there good? He can't get out, can he, Dad?"

  "He's secure," he replied. "Even if he broke out of the cage, he wouldn't get far." On cue, the goon squad moved as one, and metal gleamed in each man's hand.

  "What do you call that?" I put my hand on my hip and pointed at Caen's gun.

  "A precaution," he replied. "Shiloh, can you see it?"

  She shook her head. "I want to get closer."

  "Don't show off," he warned.

  "I can't see, Dad, and I'm not going to let you shoot Sophie's friend just 'cause I can't see."

  "Remember, Sophia." Caen's voice cut through the tension. He smiled at me with all his teeth. It was feral, not friendly. "Human shields are not very effective shields."

  He followed it up with a touch of his power, a cold squeeze on my shoulders, a rub on the back of my neck. It was intimate, and it was terrifying. There was no way he'd miss at this distance. I knew there was no reason he'd want to.

  I met Caen's eyes once and silently begged him to back off, just once. He returned my plea with an up-and-down glance. Appraising. Not caring.

  I was just food to him. It's all I would ever be. I had to let it go and stop seeing change where I wanted to see it.

  "Greco." I didn't take my eyes off Caen. "Can you keep him from shooting us?"

  "Just get this over with, Soph." He sounded restrained. "The sooner we can leave, the better."

  Shiloh drifted down the steps, once step at a time, chewing her lip.

  I held out my hand to her as she hesitated on the steps. "It's okay, I swear, Shy."

  Hand in hand we stepped back up to the cage and Shiloh scrutinized him. Toby sat on his haunches and waited for his judgment.

  "Dad." Shiloh's grip would leave a bruise if she didn't relax. "I don't think he's the one I saw."

  "You don't think?" Rodrian's tone sounded impatient.

  "No, it's not. The other one was shiny, like sparkly. It kinda glowed."

  I looked down at Toby. She was right. Toby didn't have the same sheen of power along his fur. He looked like a regular wolf. Why hadn't I noticed? Maybe I still had Were gunk in my eyes. Or, more likely, my brain was still chasing down my senses, which had fled screaming when Toby's body broke apart and a wolf spilled out.

  "And it was way meaner," she said. "Toby looks like...a puppy."

  The tip of Toby's tail twitched a little, and I narrowed my eyes at him. If he sat up and begged, I'd leave him kenneled all night.

  "Sophie," said Rodrian. "Can you get him to act mean?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Sure," I said. "Hey Toby, wanna know what Rode said about you? He said you were mangy."

  Toby cocked his head at me as if I'd gone nuts.

  "He said you were too poor for fleas. And," I added with a devilish smirk. "He said you were puny, pathetic, and probably a virgin."

  The wolf gave me a narrow-eyed glare and stood up. Suddenly he dropped into a crouch, looking ready to spring, and snarled viciously at Rodrian. Toby had gone from zero to rabies in two seconds flat.

  "That's great, Soph." Rodrian's voice sounded weary. "Really great."

  "Hey, no problem." I could be a jerk, too, when I wanted to be.

  Shiloh didn't seem afraid anymore, just curious. She hunched down, her hands on her knees, and scrutinized him. Toby's ears perked forward, the growl quieting and tail wagging just a moment, before he moved to the side so he could see around her. Glaring at Rodrian he snarled again.

  Shiloh laughed. "It's not him, Dad."

  "What?" He had to raise his voice over the racket the wolf made.

  "Shh, Toby. I said, it's not him." She looked over her shoulder to her father. "The wolf that was here last night was different."

  "Do you agree, Dahlia?"

  "Yes, Rodrian. It wasn't Toby last night. The other one was bigger, darker, and sounded different."

  "Fine. Tell him he's off the hook, then."

  "You tell him," I said. "He can hear you just fine."

  Rodrian spared me a look that said he'd rather not. "I'll be at my desk."

  "Wait, I need the key." I held out my hand expectantly.

  He paused mid-step and turned back to me. "For what?"

  "Duh, to let him out," I said.

  Shiloh's brave front dissipated, and she hot-footed it back upstairs with a squawk.

  Rodrian cocked his head. "Why would you do that?"

  "You can't leave him in there all night."

  "Sure I can. Just because he wasn't the one to attack Shy last night isn't a reason to let him run loose in the house."

  "So, put everyone upstairs and I'll let him outside."

  "Not everyone. They stay." He jerked his head toward The Muscle. I glanced around at their faces to Caen, who smiled at me deliberately and cocked his weapon.

  "It's not necessary," I insisted.

  "Yes, it is," Rodrian said, and pressed his power for-ward to touch me.

  He was a storm cloud of worry. This entire display wasn't because he wanted to make me miserable for sticking up for Toby. He was worried, for Shiloh and for me and for what could have happened last night when he wasn't here to protect us. Concern and guilt and some pathological need to appear tough in from of his men when all he wanted to do was carry us away in a safe hug.

  I met his eyes, recognizing what he felt and under-standing why he was doing this. Swallowing hard, I willed the sting of tears to melt back down. I hated knowing that I put this terrible strain on him in order to protect someone else.

  He waved Shiloh and Dahlia away and they dis-appeared into the office. Once the door was closed, he signaled to Caen. Without as much as one of his classic glares, Caen simply led the guards out the front door.

  Rodrian came downstairs to stand next to me in front of the cage. "You don't make it easy."

  "Make what easy?"

  He made a noise as he took the lock off the door. "Taking care of you."

  "Huh," I said softly. "I guess I don't."

  He gave Toby one last dirty look. "If you ever..."

  The wolf sat motionless, meeting his gaze without wavering.

  Rodrian pocketed the lock and opened the door, standing between us. I reached up to him, laying my hand on his shoulder, and brushed my mind against his to reassure him. For a brief moment, we connected.

  "Okay." Rodrian followed his men outside and closed the door, leaving me alone with a werewolf in an open cage.

  Toby padded out and sat at my feet, a plaintive look on his face as he licked his chops.

  "What?" I asked him. "It's not like I have any treats."

  His yip sounded like laughter as we headed for his rooms.

  I didn't say anything as I let him out through the back door in his suite. Even though I knew that the wolf was Toby, even though he looked at me with complete comprehension, I still felt uncomfortable talking to him. What would I have said, anyway? It's not like he could have answered me back.

  I let him out onto the patio and pulled the door shut against the wind. When I'd gotten back to the foyer, I slid the bolt shut. The thought of someone sneaking in again was not an appealing one.

  Dahlia lingered in the foyer. "Is he okay?"

  I shrugged. "Fine, I guess. He wagged his tail on the way out."

  "Wagged his...oh. Gods." She hugged her arms around herself. "That was the strangest thing I have ever seen."

  "Me, too, I think."

  "I knew he was Were. I just never—"

  "Put the face with the fur?"

  She grinned. "Something like that. It just never seemed like an issue. Yeah, we're from different worlds, but that shouldn't mean we can't—" She broke off and cracked her fingers, one by one. "I mean, I know I just met him and I can't profess to know all there is to know about him but I sort of feel like I do. I know him. Something inside me recognizes something inside him and..."

  Dahlia folded her hands over her heart and gazed at the door to his wing. "He makes me feel like I'm seventeen again. An
d I haven't been seventeen for a very, very long time."

  I couldn't respond. One part of me wanted to make a tremendously smart-assed remark about just how long, indeed. But another part—a quiet, sad part—simply wanted to hold her because I remembered what seventeen felt like.

  My own seventeen was spent in love with a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, a school-skipping, pot-smoking never-amount-to-anything delinquent who loved me better than I'd ever known. He taught me how to explore my deepest shadows so that I wouldn't be afraid of them and he taught me a great deal more in the shadows behind the mall where he'd hung out on weekends. In return, I taught him that pot was stupid, and skipping school only got you in trouble, and all in all my never-amount-to-anything Jared amounted to a huge amount, after all.

  Was that how Dahlia felt about Toby? Could it be she'd discovered her unforgettable love?

  I would do nothing to deter her from the thought, from the feeling of seventeen again. Every person who ever lived should have that blessing at least once in their life. Otherwise, we'd never be able to claim that we'd lived in the first place.

  I looked carefully at her. "Are you going to be okay with him?"

  She pursed her lips, reflecting. "I'll be okay with it, I think. It was just startling, the way he just came out of his body like that. I never saw anyone shape-shift before. But I think I can get used to that. It was almost...exciting." She wore a look completely unfitting for a vegan.

  "And messy," I reminded her. The globs of werewolf juice had dried to itchy patches of crusty yuck, and I couldn't stand knowing I had Toby's bodily fluids all over me. "I'm heading up for a bath."

  Truthfully, it wasn't only decontamination from Toby's biohazard that I wanted. I just needed a little time in the shower to hide the brewing, slow, hot tears, and to mourn the loss of my own seventeen, just one more time.

  At least now, I was glad for someone else's seventeen. Hope for Dahlia's future kept me from dwelling in my past. It definitely made for a shorter shower.

  Bonus right there.

  Pontian had contacted Rodrian to arrange a consult. He wanted to evaluate Shiloh's condition.

  She was extremely unhappy about it when she found out. I would be, too, but there was no alternative. She'd lost enough weight that her face looked gaunt. She'd even lost interest in her friends, opting instead to lay in front of the TV, falling asleep on the couch.