by A. D. Ryan
The front door was still unlocked when I arrived home, and I expected to find him waiting for me behind it. But he wasn’t. I didn’t hear him—could barely smell him—but I did sense something else.
Recoiling slightly, I took another tiny whiff, choking on the smell and fighting back the bile that started to rise in my throat. My mind registered it as familiar in an instant, the hairs on the back of my neck standing as awareness raced up my spine…
Death.
Chapter twenty-five | casualty
Ice ran through my veins and panic hit me like a brick wall when I remembered I left David here. Alone. Even though he was fully capable of taking care of himself, I couldn’t help but fear the worst; that something might have happened to him. As I quickly stepped forward to go find him—help him—the smell enveloped me, shrouding my thoughts and triggering that feeling of familiarity again. There were definitely subtle hints of David’s warm scent in the air, but they were merely traces, which meant he wasn’t here. I silently rejoiced, knowing that wherever he was, he was safer than he would be here.
How did I know this? While I couldn’t quite pinpoint it right now, I sensed on a visceral level that whatever was in my house was dangerous, and it unleashed something defensive…something wild.
The repulsive odor was thick in the air, slowly suffocating me, even with every stunted breath I took in an effort to keep it from filling my lungs completely. Like any other unpleasant smell, I cringed at the thought that it would seep into everything it touched. The walls, the carpet, my furniture, my clothes… My skin crawled as if repelling the stench from infiltrating my body as well, and I fought back the urge to wretch.
As I took another step into my house, my disgust gave way to something else. While the smell still made it difficult for me to keep my dinner down, something deep down recognized whatever this was as a threat to my existence. Then it hit me, taking me a couple weeks back to when we stumbled onto The Dungeon. A growl slowly formed in my belly, my hands clenching at my sides as I instinctively crouched down into a defensive stance, readying myself to pounce on whatever lurked around the corner. I felt this way after seeing the club-goers and knowing what kind of lifestyle they engaged in, and while this feeling was similar, it was also quite a bit stronger. The beast within snarled and clawed its way to the surface, but I kept it at bay to the best of my ability. It had been a couple of weeks since I had felt this way—not since the last full moon. It was too soon for me to give into this feeling. I wasn’t ready.
From my living room, I heard books being pulled from my shelves and tossed carelessly to the floor before papers fluttered through the air and joined them. Who was it? Didn’t know. Why were they doing this? No idea. All I could gather was that someone—no, something, my instincts screamed—was conducting a thorough search of my home, invading my personal space, and just generally pissing me off.
I had nothing to go on other than my instincts telling me that whatever was in my house went against the very laws of nature. It was evil, pure and simple.
Pressing my body against the wall, I listened a little more carefully, trying to pick up some of my visitor’s unique traits. It confused me when I failed to hear much of anything. There was no pulse when I expected to hear something elevated by the adrenaline of committing a crime. There was no excited breathing pattern. The only thing I was able to pick up was that smell. The smell of death combined with a sickly-sweet smell I couldn’t quite describe.
Then I heard nothing at all. The books stopped being tossed around, papers stopped fluttering. I honed my hearing a little more as I crept along the wall, stopping when I caught a glimpse of my intruder in the mirror on the wall across from me. Silent, I stood as still as possible, waiting for my opportunity to strike before it noticed me.
While it appeared to be human, based on its reflection in the mirror, the smell that continued to pollute my home told me otherwise. Even with her back to me, I saw her frame was slender, her long brown hair hanging midway down her back. She was dressed in jeans and a strapless black top, and her four-inch gold heels were covered in glitter. It looked like something one would wear to a nightclub, not on a B and E.
I continued to watch in the mirror while this woman tossed my belongings to the floor like she was looking for something, but then she froze unexpectedly. Slowly, she turned her head, and I saw a whisper of a smile play at the outer corner of her lips through her refection.
“You ever going to show yourself?” Her voice was soft and airy—almost melodic—but it made my skin crawl and my stomach cramp as another wave of nausea tugged at me. Such a visceral reaction to someone’s voice had to stem from something deeper, but I didn’t have time to figure that all out right now. She knew I was here, and she turned around fully, crossing her arms in front of her. “I’ve been making an awful mess in here in hopes you’d come play.”
Since I never really held the element of surprise over my intruder, I stepped out from around the corner to face her. Even though she was slight of frame, something about her was still off-putting to me. I felt like I should be afraid of her, but I also felt like I could handle anything she might try to throw at me. Which feeling was most prominent, though? I was still trying to figure that out.
She stared at me with a smug look on her face. She was confident about whatever she had planned, but I refused to let her rattle me. I returned her icy stare, finally getting a good look at my uninvited guest…and then I momentarily faltered. Her eyes… The unique shape of her nose… Her long brown hair… Why did she look so damn familiar? I couldn’t shake the feeling, and was having difficulty placing where exactly I knew her from.
Then she turned her head to the side, the stream of silver moonlight bouncing off the side of her neck…her smooth, pale neck. Unmarked…
But it wasn’t always, a voice reminded me.
Over a month ago, I came across this woman in a park, her neck cut open and her blood drained from her body. Exsanguination was her C.O.D. And now, here she was, standing in front of me, seemingly the picture of health.
“Samantha Turner?” I questioned, unsure.
Her smile widened; she looked positively giddy with excitement as she clapped her hands triumphantly. “Oh, goodie! You do remember me.”
Fear swelled in my stomach, tying into painful knots as my knees threatened to give out. I held strong, though, still not wanting to show her any weakness. Something told me she wouldn’t hesitate upon sensing even a smidge of it. I knew I wouldn’t.
“What…? How…?” None of this made any sense, and my head started to spin. If she was here—alive, if that’s what she was—then what about the other victims we’d come across these past few weeks? Were they out there somewhere? Not dead?
“What are you?” I demanded.
Samantha looked disappointed, jutting out her bottom lip in a false pout. “Oh, come on, Brooke…can I call you Brooke? Or would you prefer Detective Leighton?”
She knew my name. How the hell did she know my name?
Panic raced up my spine, and everything about this woman screamed “threat” to some baser instinct within me, but her tone and the way she looked at me belied this. Thankfully my common sense kicked in the second she stepped toward me, and I realized she was likely trying to lull me into a false sense of security. She toyed with me like a cat with a mouse.
She took another step, and my defenses flew back up, my posture rigid, my teeth curled back, and an unexpected snarl rising from deep in my belly. “Detective, it is then,” she replied, her eyes narrowing sinisterly as she sidestepped around me, circling me; probably calculating her next move.
I turned with every step she took, never letting her out of my sight, and with every second that passed, the storm inside me continued to build. The pressure pushed out anything remotely human and replaced it with something primal and feral. I didn’t even know her, but her mere presence seemed to drive me to the brink of pure, unbridled rage.
“What do you want?
Why are you here?” I finally demanded through clenched teeth.
“You really don’t know?” she purred. “I thought for sure that brute you’ve been sneaking around with would have told you by now. Especially given the history.”
The history? What the hell was she talking about? How would she even know Nick and I had a history?
She laughed, a light tinkling sound that sent a shiver down my spine like nails on a chalkboard might. “He thought he had them,” she said cryptically. “Setting that fire up in Alaska was brave…stupid, but brave. He destroyed everything she’s been working for these last seven years. Filthy mutt.” Her voice held an immeasurable level of disdain as she lowered her eyes, and then it dropped off to a mumbled whisper when she resumed eye contact. “I was told to keep you alive, but I honestly can’t stomach the idea of another one of your kind existing. If you’re still breathing by the time that animal stumbles over your dying body, make sure you tell him this is his fault.”
Before I was even given the chance to fully process everything she was saying, her façade slipped away like a veil, and I was privy to a glimpse of her true self—the monster that had me feeling on edge. The wolf lapped thirstily at the chance to destroy her. In a fraction of a second, her blue eyes darkened dangerously until they were black as pitch—demonic—and she opened her mouth in a threatening shriek as she lunged for me. Her elongated canines gleamed in the moonlight that streamed through my window.
Even though my brain needed a second to catch up, still trying to put the pieces together, my reflexes didn’t let me down, and I bobbed when she weaved…the first time, anyway. Sadly, I wasn’t expecting the speed at which she moved. It wasn’t human—and it definitely wasn’t wolf. Not from what I’d seen anyway. I had noticed an increase in my speed among everything else, but it was nothing like how Samantha moved. She was graceful and swift as she moved across the room in the blink of an eye and slammed me up against the wall, sending the mirror crashing to the floor. It shattered, and the wall crumbled behind me. She wasn’t only fast, but strong, using only one hand to keep me subdued.
She held her hand around my neck, slowly squeezing and crushing my windpipe as my legs flailed and kick several inches off the ground, unable to connect with her. I attempted to pry her hand from around my neck, but it was no use. As I was denied oxygen, my strength started to wane and I panicked. My anxiety spiked, but then the beast was back, ripping its way through me, threatening to bury my human side in an effort to survive. It didn’t seem to matter that we were still weeks away from the next full moon. Nick had warned me that this was possible, but I didn’t fully believe him until now.
Even though it was difficult to ignore, I refused to give it complete control. This was my first mistake, because my vision darkened as a feral growl filled the room, and I knew it came from me. It reminded me of how I felt right before I woke up naked in Nick’s bed and learned the truth about what had happened.
I’m slipping. I should just let it happen. Don’t deny who you are anymore, I ordered myself.
All of a sudden, there was a loud bang that pulled me from the darkness, and I gasped for air when Samantha very briefly loosened her grip. She righted this slip-up, but not before I had a moment to regain my bearings. Of course, any plan I might have been able to come up with in a fraction of a second was shot to hell when I heard loud footsteps racing down the hall, followed by a very familiar and extremely angry voice.
“Hey!” David yelled, and I craned my neck toward him. His blue eyes did nothing to hide his fear, but he held his gun steady, aiming it at my attacker. “Let her go!”
I feared for his life when Samantha turned her murderous gaze on him, and I kicked her swiftly in the shin to draw her focus back to me. It didn’t even faze her, and instead she smiled at David.
“Well, hello, handsome,” she purred, her voice returning to that soft, melodic tone from earlier. It suddenly occurred to me that this was what she did to draw people in. I could see how it might be hypnotic, even though, to me, it was reminiscent of a banshee.
“I said, let her go.” He put heavy emphasis on each word, taking a wary step forward and placing his finger on the trigger, preparing to fire. It relieved me that he seemed unaffected by her, but it worried me that he didn’t sense the very real danger that he was in. While I wasn’t sure what she was exactly, I knew she wasn’t human, and I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him…
Or worse.
Samantha turned to me. Her smile was positively wicked as she brought her face closer, her cheek resting against mine as she whispered in my ear. “This’ll only take a sec,” she said, her confident tone sounding like a promise. As she pulled her face from mine, I felt the point of her canines scrape along my jaw before her tongue trailed along my skin.
My vision darkened again as my humanity slipped away. Every muscle in my body tensed, my skin tightening, and I felt the overwhelming urge to let go. To accept what was happening, but when I looked at David again, I repressed it.
He can’t know. It’s dangerous for him to know.
These were warnings I couldn’t ignore. If I lost control and shifted, he could get hurt. I could hurt him. There was no way I could live with that… But I had to do something. I needed to find a way to st—
Suddenly, two shots were fired, and I fell to the ground, dazed. I gasped desperately for air, my lungs burning like I’d just swallowed a red-hot branding iron. I momentarily forgot about what was going on around me as I tried desperately to replenish my oxygen supply. When I looked up, I saw Samantha advancing on David. She moved much slower than she was with me, and her arm was bleeding. David’s aim didn’t quite hit home—or maybe it did. Maybe he was just trying to incapacitate her.
David warned her to stay put and stop moving toward him, but she ignored him. I tried to stand up, but my legs were weak, so it was a bit of a struggle. Usually, when someone was staring down the barrel of a gun, there was a certain level of fear involved. Sometimes this fear manifested itself differently. Some people’s hormones went crazy, some people’s hearts beat furiously, and some people pissed themselves. Samantha Turner did none of the above. Instead of fear, all I could smell on her—besides the undeniable sickly odor of death—was excitement. Whatever she had planned turned her on.
I finally made it to my feet, but I didn’t reach them in time. I was an arm’s length away when she reached out—her movements once again quick and inhuman—and tossed David aside like he was nothing more than a rag doll. He flew across the living room before crashing into the large front window, and it shattered upon impact. I screamed when I watched his limp body fall to the ground and a pool of red start to form around him.
Blood. The coppery scent was overwhelming, quickly filling the air. At the speed it invaded my senses, I knew without a doubt that David’s injuries were severe. If I didn’t get to him fast, I could lose—
I choked on the thought, my anger and need for vengeance overpowering even my fear. The tight muscles and quivering skin returned, that growl from earlier once again building in the pit of my stomach and working its way free. I continued to fight what was happening to my body, but it was too difficult. Pain tore through my body, the sound of bone cracking and cloth ripping echoing in my ears. It felt like my entire body had been lit on fire as I cried out in pain.
Then everything went black. I couldn’t hear anything. See anything. Feel anything. I was numb to everything around me. Lost in a sea of black, I relaxed, and that was when things started to slip through.
There was growling—wild, animalistic growling—not to be outdone by the hissing and shrieking of whatever the hell Samantha was. My vision was blurred along the outer edges, tunneling inward until my main line of view was crystal clear. I watched her barrel toward me until our bodies collided and slid across the floor. We hit the wall, pain exploded in my back and ribs, and then everything was black again. The numbness from before returned, and I reveled in it. It was safe here. There was no pain, n
o fear, no blood…
Remembering David lying in a growing pool of his own blood, my eyes snapped open, and I scrambled onto all fours. My feet skittered on the floor, my limbs foreign and gangly beneath me, before the pads of my feet found traction on the slick surface. Samantha was still quick, but I had the advantage of being slightly lower to the ground as I slipped away from her and bit down on her arm. My jaws were ridiculously strong, and I shook her from side to side, refusing to let go. She cried out in agony, and then I felt a pop as I dislocated her shoulder.
Before I could rip it from her body, she wound up and kicked me square in the throat. The act forced me to let go—but not without tearing a chunk of her disgustingly cold flesh from her arm—and I slammed into the couch. The cushions kept me from getting too winded this time, but the blackness still descended again.
I like it here, but I know I can’t stay.
Breathing heavily and my heart racing, I pushed myself back up, shaking off the disorientation in my head, but by the time the fog cleared, Samantha was gone. I growled when I found a scrap of fabric from her shirt on a thick shard of glass that remained lodged in the window frame. I made a move to go after her when I heard the low, bubbling groan of David just below.
Panting breathlessly, I looked down and noticed the red-brown fur covering what used to be my hands. Now they were paws. The blackness threatened to take over as I refused to accept what just happened. My knees weakened, and I stumbled when I pushed myself forward, my vision clearing and then darkening once more.
Hold on, I mentally willed David as I approached him, nudging his hand with my nose. His eyes stared at me, wide and disbelieving as he struggled for each breath; he looked terrified, and that’s when I mentally retreated. I disappeared back into the darkness, unwilling to acknowledge that he’d really just witnessed any of this. I spiraled deeper and deeper into denial, the pit bottomless as I continued to plummet.