by Lee Mae
Taryn was almost dressed, after finally finding all the pieces to her leopard print outfit, the bikini bottom, halter-top and garter belt. She was sitting at the mirror, just finishing her make-up when Lori burst into the room.
“Oh, my God, Taryn. Can you believe it? Right here…right outside the door. I’m surprised Mack’s open, but he such a greedy bastard.”
Lori was trying to light a cigarette, but struggling, her hands shaking. She finally succeeded, drawing in a deep lungful of smoke, dropping down on the couch.
“Whoa, slow down. What are you talking about?” Taryn turned on the chair, leaning on the back.
“Have you been under a rock all day? There was a murder…three murders…right outside in the alley.” To add emphasis, Lori pointed dramatically with her cigarette, leaving a trail of ash on the cushions.
Taryn felt the blood drain from her face. “In the alley? When? Who?” Her hands started to shake and she dropped the make-up brush she held.
“Last night. They found Neon in a dumpster, China across the alley, with her druggy boyfriend.”
Taryn’s stomach did a sickening roll and she closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. Lori seemed oblivious to Taryn’s reaction and went on, waving her cigarette, her voice rising in pitch as she got into the meat of her story.
“Neon had been killed first, earlier, put in the dumpster. It’s why she didn’t show up for work. Then, the druggy stalker boyfriend must have been waiting for China and killed her. And then he…” Lori scowled, the cigarette suddenly still in her hand.
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Who killed the boyfriend? He didn’t kill himself.” She shook her head, the cigarette back between her lips.
“How did they die?” Taryn’s voice was barely a whisper. She closed her eyes, willing Lori to say anything other than with a knife. She could still feel the cold snick of the blade the man had held to her throat.
“Neon was strangled or something. But the other two…” Lori leaned forward, her eyes unnaturally bright. “They were torn to shreds. All cut up, not with a knife, but like, with claws. Bitten too, from what the papers said.”
Taryn bolted from her chair, making it to the bathroom just in time to lose her meager dinner into the toilet. Lori came into the bathroom and crouched beside Taryn, holding her hair away from her face.
“Didn’t know this was going to hit you that hard. I didn’t think you knew China that well. And no one knew Neon.”
Taryn looked up at Lori, at the cigarette clamped between her lips, squinting against the spiral of smoke. She shook her head.
“No, I didn’t but…it’s…he was there. The boyfriend, last night. When I left. He…he held a knife to my throat and then…” Taryn’s voice broke and she sat back on the tile floor. Lori tore off a paper towel from the roll on the sink, handing it to Taryn.
“You got away? Damn, Taryn, seriously? Did you go to the police?”
“No.” She shook her head, wiping her mouth, her breath rough, panting. “I…Sam…the guy from the club…” She gestured over her shoulder, in the direction of the muted thumping music.
“He was there, scared the guy off. And he ran away. The guy, I mean.” She looked up at Lori. “Sam saved my life.”
“Yeah. I guess he did. Real hero. Then what?” Lori’s voice had gone suddenly cool and she was watching Taryn closely, head tilted to the side. Taryn knew the look, knew she’d have to bluff her way through this or hurt Lori’s feelings even more than she already had.
Taryn wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You were right, Lori. He’s bad news. Pulled me out of the alley, dragged me to his place and…well, it wasn’t any good.” She dropped her eyes, hoping Lori would think the rising flush in her cheeks was from being sick.
“Yeah. Okay.” Lori stood, looking down at Taryn. “Told you. Guys are just…shit sometimes.” She held out her hand.
“Come on. You’re up soon. I hear Eden’s music starting. You’re after that, right?”
Taryn took the outstretched hand, letting Lori pull her to her feet. “Yeah. I’ll be out. Need to rinse my mouth.”
Lori shut the door behind her and Taryn looked at her face in the speckled mirror over the sink. She looked like hell, her make-up smeared, her hair sticking in damp straggles around her forehead. She splashed cold water on her face, further destroying her make-up.
The music through the wall swelled, a few shouts and cat-calls reaching Taryn. She sat down at the big mirror, reapplying liner and mascara and a swipe of lipstick. Despite hearing about the killings, and having to lie to Lori, she felt a tremor of anticipation running through her veins. Sam knew she was working. And despite any mixed feelings she had, any insecurity, she wanted to see him. Desperately. She just wasn’t sure that was such a good idea.
11
Sam was in his room, alone. Bec had left to go back to his pack. It was hard to imagine his little brother with a pack of his own, or as an alpha. He’d always just been the pup nipping at his heels, getting in his way, generally making a nuisance of himself. Even if Sam loved him, Bec still drove him crazy.
But he couldn’t dwell on that at the moment. The moon was approaching full, the minutes ticking by relentlessly. Sam knew, as did every werewolf, the exact second the moon became full. It was hard-wired into their very cells. And tonight, it was just after eleven o’clock...eleven twelve and seventeen seconds, to be exact.
The preparation was the same, pretty basic, nothing complicated. He took his watch off, before he stripped his t-shirt over his head and tugged off his jeans, tossing the clothes on the bed. The process of change was violent and clothes just got in the way, and then got ruined. He barked out a brief laugh. Bec had been notorious, growing up, for tearing through clothes, always waiting too long, using the same excuse that he’d been in the middle of something, and that became a running joke after they’d found yet another set of tattered clothes in his room.
Sam paced restlessly back and forth. Everything felt too small, cramped, from the four walls that surrounded him, to his very skin. There were just a few minutes left before the moon turned full and in the last moments in this human body, he thought of Taryn. Her scent still permeated his room, clung to the sheets he refused to strip from the bed. She was inescapable, everywhere. He took a deep breath and then it started.
Muscles stretched and grew, bones lengthened and twisted, taking him from an upright man to a four-legged wolf, with remarkable speed but with no little amount of pain. There was always a brief instant where he was convinced his body would explode, his skin torn from his bones, in that final second as a man, before he dropped to the floor as a wolf.
Then the pain was gone and he was as he should be, a sleek, dominating wolf. He shook himself, ruffling the fur on his body, feeling the power in his limbs, the strength that he had in his human form multiplied, intensified. He loved this feeling, limitless power and grace in one amazing package.
Inside the body of the wolf, Sam still retained his consciousness, the essence of who he was still accessible, but subordinate to the wolf he had become. Every sense was heightened, even more than when he was human, his sense of smell the most sensitive. The world was a kaleidoscope of scents and uppermost in all of them was Taryn.
He lifted his muzzle, inhaling deeply. Even in this form, her scent was intoxicating. It was all he could do to not jump on the bed and roll around in the sheets. He shook his head, eyes closed, whining low in his throat. Now was not the time for that.
Bec was waiting. He could hear the sound of his nails scratching on the pavement at the back of the house. Sam padded down the stairs and through to the back of the house. It occurred to him that the conveniences of modern living worked well for werewolves. There was a large dog-door built into the back kitchen door. He nosed it open and found Bec, along with several of Bec’s renegade pack members, and the rest of Sam’s pack waiting for him.
Sam took the lead, heading down the alley behind the house. Bec was trotting alongside an
d out of habit Sam nipped at his shoulder, reminding him who was alpha male. But Bec stayed shoulder to shoulder with Sam, growling low in his throat, making it clear he was holding his own as alpha male of his own pack.
Shaking his head, he turned, Bec tight to his shoulder. The rest of the wolves fanned out through the neighborhood, taking different routes, with different agendas, quickly disappearing into the night. Bec and Sam headed for the club.
Once the mouth of the alley came into sight, Sam took the lead, Bec finally dropping back. He inched his way into the dark alley, slinking beneath the yellow crime scene tape, already fluttering in places in tatters on the ground. Nose twitching, he picked his way through the scents. He caught Taryn’s scent and he closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Bec was beside him again, whining softly and Sam walked further into the alley, staying in the shadows. They paused, muzzles rose, both sifting through the complex scents that swirled around them. Sam could smell his own scent, his human scent, on the dumpster and where he’d stood over Taryn. He knew from the roll of Bec’s eyes that he caught it as well.
Both wolves stopped, hackles raised. The scent of death was thick here, clinging to the dumpster, and across the alley, rising around them. Bec was whining loudly now, a high-pitched sound and Sam turned, growling low in his throat. Bec stopped but continued to look uneasy, his eyes wide, tail held low, a ruff of fur standing out around his neck.
Then it hit Sam. There was another scent here, something oddly out of place, but strangely familiar, but with an undercurrent of danger. It was almost nauseating in its intensity. He backed away from it, shaking his head, trying to clear it from his nostrils. Bec looked at Sam, confused, but then he caught a whiff, back-pedalling so fast his hindquarters slipped on the damp concrete. He scrambled wildly, gaining his footing and bolting out of the alley.
Sam stayed a moment longer, his heart racing, trying to understand what was happening, why this particular scent was so familiar, yet so alarming. Finally, he gave up, shaking his head, turning to leave the alley, to go find Bec before he did something foolish.
But then he stopped. From inside the club, through the walls, over the catcalls of the men, his sensitive ears heard music. Taryn’s music, the song she’d danced to the first night he’d seen her. He stopped and waited.
12
Taryn was working through her second routine of the night, making her way to the end of the stage. The crowd was sparse; just a few die-hard guys who weren’t scared off by the crime scene tape. Or maybe they were perversely drawn to it. She really didn’t know or care. Her heart wasn’t in it tonight, even less so than usual. Sam wasn’t there.
At the end of her first set, she’d stood up, tossing her hair back, a big smile on her face. She’d look toward the back of the club and froze, her smile frozen, still pasted on her face, her heart skipping a beat. But she didn’t see him.
She grabbed her scattered bits of clothing and left the stage. She’d changed, thankful for once Lori was someplace else besides lounging in the dressing room. Only Eden was there, sitting on the couch, a cell phone jammed against her ear. Taryn glanced at her, got a scowl in return, and turned to her locker, pulling on the first thing that she found, a lime green tank and tap shorts.
She was back on the floor, eyes searching the farthest corners, but he wasn’t there. The place was so empty there seemed to be more girls than customers. She saw Lori watching her and Taryn took a step toward her, smiling, but Lori had turned to the guy next to her, pulling him toward one of the private rooms.
Taryn sighed, tried to mingle with the remaining customers, but eventually found herself alone at the bar, nursing her one free drink. Mack was nowhere in sight and Sam seemed distracted and distant.
The drink was finished and she was debating about calling it a night when Mack materialized at her elbow.
“Hey, great, you’re still here. Stick around. Eden’s gotta leave, some kind of emergency and Lori’s asked to go home early again. You’re it. Do one more set and then you can call it a night.”
Mack patted her on the ass and left her standing with her mouth open. Sam walked down to where she was standing, a drink in his hand.
“Here, you look like you could use this. On the house.”
“Thanks. Mack has a way of ruining my nights more often than not.” Taryn took a sip of the drink, sputtering.
“Jeez, Sam. Any soda in here at all, or just straight alcohol?”
He just smiled and moved off to the other end of the bar. Taryn sipped the drink for a while, the alcohol working its way through her body, first making her warm and a little fuzzy around the edges, and then slightly unsteady. She finished the drink and headed back to dress for her next set.
She changed back into her leopard print outfit and didn’t care if someone had already seen her wearing it tonight. And she didn’t care if her hair was messy or her make-up was fading. At that point, she was feeling sorry for herself and somewhat used by men, Mack at the top of her list, Sam a close second.
It didn’t hit her until she started her routine that she was far drunker than she realized. She stumbled once, caught herself on the pole and then stumbled again. And then she decided she’d be better off on all fours, working her way to the end of the stage.
And for all the difference it made. There were just a handful of guys left, clustered around the bar, not even looking at the stage. Taryn frowned, her eyes drifting over the rest of the empty club, out of habit searching for Sam. But he still wasn’t there.
As soon as the music ended, she was up, wobbling slightly as she collected the pieces of her costume. She was angry and hurt, at Sam and at Mack, and at pretty much all men.
Lori was still in the dressing room, in street clothes. She slammed her locker as Taryn came in.
“Hey, I’m sorry about this. I didn’t know Mack was going to make you stay.”
Taryn waved her hand. “It’s alright. I need the money. Besides, what the hell else do I have to do?” She dropped down on the couch, clutching her costume in her hands.
Lori watched Taryn for a minute and then opened her locker, pulling out a robe and holding it out to Taryn. “Here, put this on. You’re a pathetic drunk and even more pathetic when you’re naked.”
Taryn caught the teasing tone and smiled, slipping the robe on and pulling it around her body.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just feeling sorry for myself is all.” She played with the sash of the robe, eyes down cast, the sudden sting of tears suddenly taking her by surprise. She never cried, hadn’t cried in ages. But tonight, it all seemed too much.
Lori perched on the edge of the make-up table. “He wasn’t here, was he?”
Taryn looked up. Lori’s voice was low, a small smile on her lips.
“No.” Taryn shook her head as a tear slid down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away.
Lori swept across the room, sitting down beside Taryn on the couch. “You really are smitten with him, aren’t you?”
Taryn sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Smitten. That’s such an old-fashioned word.” She drew a deep breath.
“But you were right. He’s just like all the others. We…he…it was good. Really good.” She turned to Lori, tears running down her face.
“It was perfect, everything he did and said was the right thing. But then, in the morning…he was completely different. Like he wanted me gone, lost all interest and couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. I don’t know…and then his brother was there…”
“Whoa, wait. You had a threesome? You?” Lori shook her head. “Never would I have thought that.”
“No, not like that. We were…he’d come back to bed and we’d…or I thought we were going to, maybe he wanted to…anyway, his brother just walked in.”
“And then what?” Lori pulled out a cigarette, lighting it and settling back on the couch.
“Nothing. I mean, they got into an argument about something, and I just got dressed and left. I wasn’t interes
ted in sticking around and watching them fight. It was completely awkward.”
“So you think… what? He just wanted a one-night stand?”
Taryn nodded. “Yeah. I think so. Pretty much. I think the morning sex was more like he thought he had to…not that he wanted to. Like he owed it to me or something.”
“Did he say that?” Lori blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling.
“No, of course not. He said he wanted me…wanted me to stay. But at first…he didn’t look like he did. Like it wasn’t the first thing on his mind.” Taryn stood, weaving slightly. “It’s all confusing. All I know is he’s not here and I feel like I got used.” She shrugged off Lori’s robe, pulling on her jeans and t-shirt.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, Taryn. I know I give you shit about him, but I’m sorry anyway.”
Taryn turned. “I thought you had a date or something. Mack said…”
“Yeah, well, I got stood up. The asshole just called, said he didn’t feel like going out.”
“Mark?” Taryn grabbed her purse, shutting her locker.
“No, um…this was Steve. Mark is…well, over, I guess.” She leaned forward, stubbing out her cigarette.
“Listen, let’s get the hell out of here. Come over to my apartment. We haven’t had any girl time in ages. We can make popcorn and stay up all night.”
Taryn smiled. “Night’s almost over with already. But yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I miss you, Lori. I miss hanging out.”
Lori stood up, stuffing her cigarettes into her purse. “You ready? Then let’s hit it.”
Taryn pushed open the door to the alley, Lori right behind her. As soon as she saw the yellow tape, she stopped, Lori bumping into her from behind. The last place she wanted to be was in the alley. Her body went cold, the image of the man with the knife rising up in her mind, followed by one of Neon and China.
“Oh, shit. I don’t want to go this way. Go back inside…” Both girls turned and reached for the door handle at the same time, but it slammed shut, apparently locked from the inside.