Second Skin (Skinned)

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Second Skin (Skinned) Page 3

by Graves, Judith


  Brit tucked her wings tighter and higher until we could only see the top of her head.

  “Didn’t you say you never wanted to be like your mother?” Matt groaned. “Well, guess what? This is the equivalent of her locking herself in the bathroom when she’s mad at your dad.” Matt pulled at the edges of Brit’s sleek, black wings, but they were made of a thick cartilage like a bat’s, and far stronger than his hands. Odd to see a magical creature like Brit having a very human temper tantrum.

  “Come on, Brit, you’re acting like a big, scaly, dark-sprite baby,” I said.

  Brit relaxed her wings enough to extend one of the two six- inch claws at the end of each wing, effectively giving me the finger. “Nice,” Matt chided, “so that’s how you treat people who don’t want to see you end up as the featured video of the week?”

  I flashed a grin at Alec, wanting to show I could appreciate Matt’s sarcasm as long as it wasn’t directed at me, but he had moved away from us. He knelt in the snow, took off a glove, and touched his bare finger to the blood I’d spewed on the stone angel.

  I slipped forward to stand by his side. I expected a lecture, but Alec didn’t acknowledge my presence. He seemed fixated on my blood.

  Like horrifically fixated.

  “Alas, ’twas only a flesh wound,” I joked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  His body jerked at my gentle touch like I’d zapped him with a million-watt Taser. He glared up at me. The concern, the hint at something deeper, something hotter, no longer flared in his eyes. Now his gaze burned like the worst case of frostbite. His face, cold. Lips stretched into a tight line.

  I lowered my hand. “Alec, what the—”

  “This is your blood.” He scrambled up from the stone and backed away from me. “It’s wolven and human. It’s yours. Eryn, I saw—”

  He angled his face away, his dark brows furrowed. Moonlight cast shadows down his high cheekbones and that crooked, hawkish nose I’d grown to find so attractive. The normal sweet tang of his scent had changed. Fear whirled in the air around him.

  My heart wobbled under my ribs, off kilter, as the moment

  I’d been dreading since I learned Alec was a hunter came to pass.

  Alec was deathly frightened. Of me.

  Yet, at the same instant I wondered, What took him so long?

  Matt shouldered me aside.

  He touched his brother’s arm. I flinched when Alec didn’t warn him away with a cold stare. “What did you see?”

  Alec’s dark eyes sliced to me for an instant and than he shut them tight. He shook his head, his lips pressed in a harsh line.

  I rounded on Matt. “What did he see? Alec’s had visions?” I gestured to the angel spattered with my blood. “He touched my blood and saw…what?”

  I swung back to Alec, who had opened his eyes now, his face resuming its usual calm. He shifted his body away from me as I took a step forward.

  “Oh, I get it. Your power is manifesting. You’re seeing into the future, and you didn’t tell me because I’d insist you confirm or deny Marie’s vision.” A fist clenched around my heart. Alec’s mother, Marie, was a powerful shaman. She had the ability to heal, which Matt had inherited. But until this moment I hadn’t known that Alec had developed any of her skills. Lucky for me, it appeared to be her ability to foretell…to see all my crimes.

  Even ones I’d yet to commit.

  “So it’s true.” My blood seemed to glow with guilt on the cold stone. “Marie was right. You saw it too. I get you killed.” I put a shaking hand over my mouth and staggered away from Alec.

  He held his arm open wide, but I stepped out of reach.

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said, letting his arms drop to his sides. His voice lacked conviction.

  My shaking fingers muffled my words. “It means everything. It means your life.”

  Alec sighed. “I’ve never deliberately tried to get a vision before. I probably did it wrong. Maybe instead of calling a true vision, I only saw what I’m scared I’ll see.”

  I gave a sick laugh. “That’s even worse. It proves you think I’m capable of not only causing you pain—I could take your life. Thanks, I feel so much better.” I wrapped my arms around my chest, guarding my heart as if that would help. Causing harm to Alec, taking his life would kill me.

  I wouldn’t survive. I was done tempting fate.

  Alec bit off a curse. “Why do you take everything the wrong way?”

  “I don’t think I am.” I stared into his dark eyes. They saw so much, and yet what had they seen? “How many other visions have you had?”

  Alec shrugged. “A few.” A muscle in his jaw tensed.

  “And have they come true?” I pushed, a ripple of fear forming in my gut.

  “Not exactly.” The taint of a lie tinged his scent.

  I closed my eyes for a second. “But the big-ticket items were the same.” I crept backward, putting distance between us.

  His eyes narrowed. “I guess.”

  His body stilled with a suddenness I recognized. He was about to pounce. If he swept me into his arms, logic and reason would go out the window with the baby and the bathwater.

  I held up a hand. “You have to stay away from me.” “Impossible.” A vein at his temple pulsed wildly. He took an angry step forward. “We hunt together. We go to school together. How’s that supposed to work?”

  “You know what I mean.” I sighed. “We can’t do”—I gestured between us—“this anymore. We’re done.”

  Alec shoved his hands into his jean pockets, his shoulders hunched ever so slightly. “Don’t say that.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “I just did.” My voice, if not my resolve, was firm and final. I whirled and stumbled through the snow. This time Alec didn’t try to stop me.

  Tombstones swam as my vision blurred. Maybe, deep inside, he actually felt relieved I’d made the decision for him. He had to know I was doing the right thing, the only thing I could do, pulling back before we could cause each other further damage. Me, with the chomping wolven jaws of death, and Alec with his sledgehammer to my heart.

  Like Brit, I had to get myself under control. More was at stake than my wants, my fears.

  I swallowed hard, my eyes burning in their sockets. “Let’s get Brit to Kate’s,” I said over my shoulder. “She has a stash of clothes at the café.”

  It took all my will to keep tromping ahead of the others. Though I could hear every word they said, I desperately wanted to analyze their body language. Was Alec upset that I’d turned away? Did Matt and Brit agree with what I’d done? Their words were one thing, but I could tell so much more about the way they held themselves, an ability that came with my wolven inheritance.

  The power to see, and even smell, what was unsaid.

  “Eryn’s right,” Matt agreed. “Brit needs to change before we drop her off at home.” His voice was low, but my wolven hearing brought his words to me as clearly as if he’d spoken in my ear. “You have to tell Mom everything. She can help.”

  Alec cursed at my back. He only let me go because Matt and Brit were around. We’d get into this again. Although Matt and Brit’s relationship could withstand the pressures of Brit having scales and wings and Matt being able to heal mortal wounds, Alec’s vision of me doing him harm was a deal-breaker for me.

  I would protect him at all costs. Even from myself.

  Exit light, enter night

  Matt took shotgun while Brit and I piled into the back seat. Alec navigated the slippery road with a deft hand, careful to avoid patches of black ice. I dodged his searching glances in the rear- view mirror and plucked at a thread unraveling at the corner of one of the boys’ gear bags. I was wedged between the bags and Brit’s awkward dark-sprite form. Adrenaline still flowed through her system making it impossible for her to do a quick change back to human form. The edges of her wings dug into my arm, but I didn’t care. Pain was a great distraction. We fishtailed, leaning left, then right with each turn. Matt cast worried looks
at Brit over his shoulder, which she ignored, keeping her gaze on the snowflakes whirling past the window.

  I choked on questions that would only make me hate myself more. What do I do wrong? How do I hurt you?Can’t you stop me before it’s too late? Why haven’t you killed me yet?

  I glanced at his brother’s profile. Matt’s lips were pressed in a grimace. He wouldn’t hesitate to take me out if he didn’t have to face Alec’s wrath. Maybe they were just waiting for me to turn against them. Because we all knew what would happen. And now Alec had seen it for himself.

  How could he stand to be near me?

  I hate to say I told you so, but…. Wade’s voice cut through my mind like ice cream on a hot summer day.

  I gasped at the unexpected invasion. Bitter, yet relieved.

  Wade.

  I projected his name on a growl. Brit tilted her head in question. I waved away her concern and pretended to clear my throat. Where the hell have you been?

  I waited, holding my breath, willing a response. But no cool tendrils projected into my head. Lovely. Now I was imagining contact between us. I had to be. Why would Wade tap into my mind now, when he’d been on mute all this time? With me thinking Logan was torturing him, or worse. The silence had been beyond deafening.

  It hurt.

  Almost as much as when my parents disappeared.

  Mom. Dad. Missing, likely dead, and all to prevent me turning dark side. It was pointless, really. Darkness stalked closer each day, hunting me. I couldn’t run forever.

  My eyelids flickered as I recalled the nightmare that had woken me. The blood. My mother’s horror.

  I’d only killed in my dreams, but how long before my wolf took over and I attacked those I loved—for real? How disappointed my parents would be if they could see me now. I felt every inch the monster they feared I’d become.

  Their voices carry in the dark silence of the night. They’ve returned home long after my nanny has read my favorite fairy tale to me for the millionth time before going to sleep in her own room. Below, the hardwood floor creaks with their steps. They enter the den at the base of the stairs. I creep out of my room and crouch on the landing, hidden in the shadows. The thick wooden door to the den is open a crack. I strain to catch their words though I’m supposed to be a good girl. To stay tucked in bed.

  I clutch my ragdoll, Sara, close to my chest. My breath catches. I need to know why Mommy and Daddy fight so much. Why are they always arguing about me? A sick ache settles in my tummy. A sob escapes me and echoes along the expansive hall. I clamp a shivering hand over my mouth, not allowing myself to breathe, but no one seeks me out. No one has heard. I give a shuddering sigh.

  Later. I’ll cry later. I lean against the banister’s spindles and listen.

  “She’s training with my crew.Yesterday isn’t soon enough.” Daddy’s using his deadly quiet voice, the one right before he explodes into rage. “Never would be too soon,” Mommy says. Her voice clogs with

  tears.

  “I increased the dosage. We can’t have a repeat of today. Christ, Tera, she almost killed one of my men.” The floor creaks loudly under Daddy’s heavy pacing. “Samson tried to take that damn doll from her. That was all. And she went for his throat like a mad dog.”

  “She’s just a little girl, Liam. Our daughter. Our beautiful child.” “Yes, and then she’ll grow up to be a beautiful monster.” Daddy’s

  voice is soft. Sad. “This is the only way to keep her contained. We snuff out her wolf. Train her to hunt, to see the damage paranorms can do. Keep her on our side as long as we can.” Chairs squeak.

  “And if the drugs aren’t enough?” Mommy sounds as if she’s speaking into a pillow. “If she turns?”

  “I can’t let that happen.”

  This time Mommy’s sob cuts through the night. I slip back into my room, into my bed.

  I’m a monster. Like my fairy tale.

  Daddy is right. I can still taste that man’s blood on my tongue. Coppery and warm, it calls to me, promising…something good. Something so good it’s really, really bad.

  Back in my room I hold Sara up to the moonlight. I can see the blood stains on her patchwork dress. Smell the scent of the man’s fear. Feel the tear of his flesh.

  We’ve been through a lot, Sara and me. I give her a final hug and then stuff her into the wicker toy basket at the end of my bed.

  The time for dolls is over. They get me in too much trouble.

  I pull the covers over my head and wonder what happens if you’re both the beauty and the beast.

  Brilliant red and blue lights pulsed in the night, illuminating the interior of the truck, bringing me back to the present. Brit twisted to stare out the back window, her wing swiping me across the forehead with the mild force of a cinder block striking between my eyes.

  I swore and felt for blood, but found only the beginnings of a welt.

  “Cops,” Matt said, stating the obvious. “It’s hours after curfew. We’re screwed.”

  “Brit, stop gaping and get down,” Alec ordered.

  Brit tried her damnedest to crouch out of sight, but the jut of her wings was clearly visible over the backseat. Matt reefed off his winter coat and hurriedly tossed it over her crouched form.

  “Oh, that’s a big help.” I said, grasping the material and attempting to cover her, dodging the razor-sharp talons at the peak of each wing.

  “I could shift back,” Brit mumbled.

  Matt and I exchanged a look. Naked was better than scales and wings.

  “Hold on,” Alec said, pulling the truck over to the side of the road and slowing. “They’re not after us.”

  The flashing vehicle ducked down a side street, its lights fading into the distance.

  Alec pulled back into the lane and continued at a moderate speed. All of us sat, unmoving, expecting those high beams to blast at us head on.

  The streetlights at the next intersection turned red, and Alec stopped.

  A booming bass pounded, gaining on us. Curious, Brit poked her head out from under the coat as a little hatchback cruised passed us, slowing before the intersection. The car was crammed full with kids in Halloween costumes. I’d forgotten it was so close to Halloween—monsters were too real to me. The school’s Harvest Moon dance was this weekend. There were parties all week long.

  Two poorly made- up zombies hung out the passenger window. Their plaid shirts were ripped, their faces splotchy with fake rotting flesh. One spotted Brit and grabbed the other’s face, turning it so they both could see. They took in her scales and the wings arching against the roof of the truck.

  “Whoo, dude, now that’s a costume.” They gave her four thumbs up. Their screams of laughter rang out in the night, accenting the blaring tunage. An old rock tune about beasts hiding under your bed and being dragged to Neverland.

  I suppressed a shiver of unease.

  The driver must have thought better of lingering when he spied the police car pulling onto Main Street. The hatchback shot through the intersection, and the cop barreled along after them. We sat in silence while the music and lights faded. The truck tires spun as Alec put the vehicle in gear and gave it gas. We drove about half a mile before he turned off Main Street onto a service road and then into a back alley, killing the headlights to avoid attention. We crept along, bouncing through the compacted snow ruts and grooves in the road.

  Moonlight bathed the narrow alley, casting shadows along the back fences and brick buildings. If we encountered another vehicle, we’d be in trouble. There was no place to park. The alley served as a delivery drop-off and staff entrance to the many homes converted into commercial businesses. Most of the rear entrances sported spotlights over functional bay doors. Not so with Conundrum. The entire expanse of the café’s back wall was awash in color. A mural—expressionistic, with splats, squiggly lines, and odd shapes that made no sense except they used one heck of a lot of paint.

  But Conundrum’s a haven for the arts, a two-story Victorian, with a café on the main
level and an art gallery on the second floor. Not that I’d been to the second floor. I wasn’t much for the artsy-fartsy.

  About twenty feet from the entrance, my neck hairs stood on end. I closed my eyes, waiting, willing the sensation of impending doom to pass. It didn’t. It grew stronger. I tapped Alec on the shoulder.

  “Roll down your window.”

  A blast of cool air entered the cab. I sniffed and stiffened. My fingers dug into Alec’s coat.

  “Stop. Something’s wrong.”

  He slammed on the brake. I bolted up and reached over the back of front seat, beyond Alec, flicked on the truck’s headlights.

  A body lay slumped on the ground, half propped against the brick wall of Conundrum’s entrance. Crouching over it, pinned by the harsh beams of the truck’s headlights were two pint-sized, hooded figures.

  They whirled to face the light, holding their arms up to protect their eyes. Gnarled hands with only four fingers, each with grotesque black nails that curved into their palms. A sour gas smell emanated from their direction. These guys were rotten, through and through. The tops of their heads didn’t reach above the truck’s metal emblem, a silver ram, perched on the hood.

  Red eyes peered out from beneath their hoods. The headlights exposed eroded, ravaged flesh.

  Now that wasn’t fake makeup.

  Their oozing, gaping mouths opened wide. A chorus of eerie screeches pierced the night.

  “Shit, shit…” Alec cried. He slung his arm over the seat, sliding into reverse.

  Matt reefed the gearshift back to park, risking the transmission. “No, we have to help. I think that’s Kate out there.”

  Alec swore again, spun to face me, eyes hard. “Weapons.”

  I dug into the gear bags and tossed whatever I could grasp to the brothers. They caught an axe and a bowie knife, and then bolted from the truck. The truck doors slammed into the buildings on either side as the guys scrambled to get clear of the truck and find some swinging room.

  Matt popped his head back in just as I reached across the scattered equipment and grasped the door handle to follow. “Keep Brit out of the way, she’ll be weak now, and I don’t want her to fight.”

 

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