by Lee Mae
Taryn didn’t answer, didn’t need to. She read everything in Lori’s face, watched her eyes narrow, saw the disappointment in their blue depths. “You can’t become a werewolf, Taryn. It’s not what’s good for you. Trust me on this.”
“But I love him.” Why couldn’t Lori see how much this meant to her? Why was her best friend the one putting up roadblocks to her happiness?
“And it’ll be the hardest thing you ever do, if you stay with him. You don’t want that.” Lori shook her head.
Taryn frowned at Lori. “You don’t know what I want. I don’t think you even know me anymore…and I,” she paused only briefly contemplating whether to say it before going forward, “I certainly don’t know you at all.”
Taryn set her beer on the coffee table and stood up. “I’ll come get my stuff later. Just put it all in the duffel, leave it in the hall if you want.”
“Where are you going? Back to Sam?” Lori stood, holding her bottle of beer.
“Yeah, I am. Back to Sam…the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Taryn walked down the hall to the apartment door. She stopped with her hand on the knob and turned around. Lori was leaning against the wall, arms folded across her chest, her face set in hard lines.
“I do care about you, Taryn. But you’re making a mistake. A serious one. I’m looking out for you, like I always have.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t need you to look out for me. Not anymore… not ever again.”
Taryn turned the doorknob and stepped into the hall, closing the door softly behind her. The crash of the bottle hitting the door and the shatter of glass made her jump, but not as much as she thought she would. Lori had a mean throw and Taryn guessed right about now, a trail of beer was running down the other side of the door, pooling among the broken shards of glass on the floor.
She sighed, headed down the stairs and turned toward the corner. She had no money, and if she remembered correctly, the bus stop she wanted, the bus that would take her to Sam, was two streets over. At least the rain had stopped. She should count herself lucky.
*
Sam tried the door to Ryan’s shop, but it was locked. He peered through the rain-streaked glass in the door, but the room was dark. His knocking brought no one.
He turned, trudging back down the damp sidewalk, flipping shut his phone in frustration. Taryn wasn’t answering her cell; she wasn’t at Ryan’s. The only place left was Lori’s apartment.
Lori wasn’t first on his list of people to see right now, but he cut through the alley behind her building, scaling the low wall that separated a trash filled courtyard from the street. He took the front steps two at a time, the guys with the bottle, who seemed to be a permanent fixture, missing today. Probably driven inside by the rain.
He knocked on Lori’s door. There was a muffled curse from inside and then the sound of locks opening. The door opened a crack and Lori peered out, accompanied by the strong scent of beer.
“Where’s Taryn?”
“She’s not here. She left…to go back to you.”
Sam looked at Lori closely. Her eyes were red-rimmed. It was hard for him to imagine she’d been crying, but that’s the impression he got.
“She’s not answering her cell. When did she leave?”
“Wait.” The door closed, the sound of the chain being pulled back muffled and then Lori opened the door.
“Watch the glass.”
Sam looked down, stepping around a puddle of beer and shards of a bottle, staying near the door. Lori called over her shoulder to him as she walked down the hall. He frowned. She was barefoot and there was an imprint of her right foot in blood in the hall.
“Here.” She was walking toward him, holding something in her hand.
“Lori, you cut your foot. You should be more…”
“Careful?” She made an unpleasant sound that might have been a laugh. “Here. Take this. It’s Taryn’s cell. Must’ve fallen out of her purse when she was here.”
He took the phone, sticking it in his pocket. “You okay?”
She waved her hand. “Yeah. Fucking great. Like always. You should go…find Taryn. She’s had a bad day.”
“Bad day how?” Lori’s whole demeanor bothered him. He remembered Taryn had told him she and Lori had a fight. Was this still the aftermath of that?
“Guy she works for, he’s just like us. One of the creatures of the night.”
Sam’s stomach dropped. Nothing Lori said could have been further from what he was thinking. And what she told him was unthinkable. “Ryan’s a werewolf?”
“No, not quite. Lycanthrope. You know, the ones who can change at will. The ones who are making your life difficult at the moment. Although he’s not your guy…never has been. I can vouch for that.”
Sam opened his mouth, one of a hundred questions on the tip of his tongue. But Lori cut him off.
“That’s enough truth for one night. Don’t you have some place more important to be, knowing all that?” She advanced toward him, her eyes over-bright, either from tears or anger at him. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to find out. Not with Taryn in potential danger.
He backed down the short hallway, his boots crunching through the glass. Lori leaned against the open door, her face hard.
“One of us has to look out for her. She’s picked you, so, go. Go look after her.”
Sam turned as she slammed the door in his face. He heard the bolt being shot home and the chain and a muffled curse. And then it was quiet. He turned and walked down the stairs to the sidewalk, heading for home.
40
The bus stop was down the block from Sam’s house. It was dark, the street dimly lit and she hurried toward the big house and the welcoming porch light. The front door was unlocked and she pushed it open, hesitating just inside. The house was oddly quiet, no boisterous guys watching television, just a few voices in the kitchen. She thought she recognized Finn’s voice and she headed toward the back of the house, passing through the large living room.
“Hello?” Her voice seemed small in the large room. There was a noise behind her and she jumped.
“Taryn. What are you doing here?” It was Bec, standing by the window, the streetlight casting a dim glow over his form.
“I was…looking for Sam. Is he here?”
“No. He’s… out. But he should be back soon.” He took a few steps toward her, coming out of the shadows. Everything about him was so similar to Sam, except the blonde hair. And the look in his eyes. They were cold, so unlike Sam’s glowing silver eyes. Bec’s eyes were ice blue, his gaze so intense she took an involuntary step backward.
“Have a seat. Get comfortable and you can wait for him.” He motioned to an overstuffed chair. “Anything I can help you with?” He sat down on the leather couch, still watching her.
“I was going…I wanted to talk to him. Something happened.”
“You can tell me. I’ll see him later. Or, maybe I can help.” He leaned back against the couch and Taryn decided she could trust him with this. It was important and someone should know what she’d found out about Ryan, that he was a lycanthrope and he’d attacked her. Sam told her she was the target
“I think I know who the lycanthrope is. The one who’s been attacking people. Sam thought it was obsessed with me, and, well, something happened today.”
Bec leaned forward, his eyes locked on Taryn. “Who is it? Where is he?”
“It’s the guy I work for, Ryan. He’s got a tattoo shop close to where I live. He changed today… right in front of me. He’s a dealer, probably high, and…well, I slapped him. And he attacked me.” Her words were rushed, a furious breath of air escaping her lips as though the faster she told him the better she felt.
The change in Bec was immediate. Every muscle in his body tensed, his eyes almost glowing. He sat up and Taryn leaned back in her chair. He was intimidating and she had a flash of him as the wolf in the alley with Sam. He’d stood his ground with the thing, putting himself between it, and
her and Lori.
“Can you take me there? Show me where he is?”
Taryn nodded. “Yeah, I can.”
41
Sam bounded up the stairs. The house was quiet, almost too quiet. He found Finn in the kitchen with Angela, sitting at the table. They both looked tense, Angela’s face drawn. Finn sat hunched over, arms resting on the table. He looked up as Sam walked in.
“Where’s Bec, the rest of the pack?”
“Most are upstairs, waiting. Bec was here, but he left with Taryn, just a few minutes ago.”
“Left with Taryn? Why? Where did they go?” Why the hell would Taryn leave with Bec?
“I don’t know, something about her workplace.” Finn’s voice was low.
Sam ran his hand over his face, lost in his thoughts. He left the house quickly without further word to Finn, heading back to where he’d just come from, hoping to hell he got there before Taryn and Bec. Taryn was wrong, but Bec didn’t know that.
***
“There. That little house in the middle.”
Taryn and Bec were across the street from Ryan’s. The shop was dark, the sign out front turned off. Something was off, but before she could say anything, Bec was pulling her across the street.
“Where does he live? Above the shop?”
“I don’t really know. I think there’s a stairway in the back room that goes upstairs. I really haven’t been anywhere but the front room.”
“Fire escape? Anything like that?” Bec was looking at the front of the building, sizing up the windows on the first floor.
“Don’t know. Like I said, never got passed the front. But I think…”
She stopped, the sound of breaking glass cutting off her words. Bec had jammed his elbow through the glass on the front door. He waited a moment and when no sound came from inside, or any of the neighboring buildings, he carefully reached through the opening and grabbed the knob, opening the door.
“Come on.”
Taryn looked over her shoulder as Bec pulled her into the cramped front room. It was just as it was when she’d left, one of the chairs on its back on the floor. Bec was prowling around the small space, moving behind the beaded curtains.
“This? What is it?” His voice was barely audible and she strained to hear him.
“Where he…does business. Tattoos, if he did them. Sells drugs.” She trailed after Bec as he moved further into the room.
“That’s the door upstairs.” Bec pointed and Taryn saw the open door, the first few stairs visible, the rest disappearing into the darkness. Bec turned to her, something shiny in his hand. She backed up, stumbling over a box on the floor.
“Here, take this.” He pushed something into her hand. She looked down; it was a knife, long and shiny and very heavy.
“What the hell is this?” She stared down at the knife, the intricate carvings on the handle, the heavy blade catching the light.
“It’s silver. Works on werewolves, not so much on lycanthropes. It might slow him down, if you’re attacked.”
“But I’m not going up there…no way in hell. I didn’t sign on for this, just to bring you here. You’re the hunter, I’m just the…. I’m not going up there.”
Taryn backed out of the room, Bec’s eyes locked on hers. The anger in his look was almost palpable and she was suddenly almost as afraid of him as she had been of Ryan. She didn’t think he’d hurt her, but suddenly none of this seemed like a good idea.
She turned, wanting to go back out to the street. But before she was through that damned beaded curtain, an arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her back. She instantly recognized the smell of unwashed body and dirty hair. It was Ryan, in human form…more or less.
The lights in the tiny room came on suddenly, blinding her for a moment. There was a shout, Bec’s voice loud in her ear and then another voice, a woman. It was Lori.
Against her neck she could feel Ryan changing, fur replacing skin, talons digging into her neck. His chest heaved and twisted beneath her back and she was suddenly lifted off the floor, her feet dangling. She wanted to scream, but the hold he had on her, and the fear she felt kept her from making any sound.
“Let her go. She’s not who you really want.” Lori’s voice was cold, her words clipped. Ryan spun around, Taryn’s feet swinging like a puppet’s, as he turned to face her.
“You…bitch. You fucked me over with this one, didn’t you? Ruined everything.”
His hot breath rasped against her cheek and for a moment, Taryn thought she would vomit from the stench of his breath. He kept talking but his words grew garbled, changed into grunts and barks and then snarls. His teeth were dangerously close to her cheek and she tried to pull away. But his grip was like steel and there was nothing she could do.
Suddenly something warm sprayed across Taryn’s face and she found herself on the splintery wooden floor, gasping for breath. She ran a hand across her face, horrified when it came away red with blood.
The bellow behind her told her it was Ryan’s blood. She scrambled away on all fours, heading toward Lori. She sat down finally, looking over her shoulder.
Bec lunged at Ryan with a large silver knife, much larger than the one he’d given Taryn. With practiced ease he swung at Ryan’s neck. But Ryan raised one hairy limb, deflecting the blade, knocking the knife from Bec’s hand.
“Shit…” Bec spat out the word, crouching low as Ryan advanced, swiping long front legs tipped with razor sharp claws at Bec. He lost his footing, falling back on his hands, crab-crawling away from the raging Ryan.
Taryn looked up at Lori, crouched in her own feral stance. And made a decision.
“Lori, here!” Taryn thrust the knife at Lori. Lori looked down for a second, then grabbed the knife, leaping toward Ryan. Bec was on his back on the floor now, arms up, waiting for Ryan to attack.
Lori sunk the blade between Ryan’s shoulders, the blade going in to the hilt. Bec was instantly on his feet, looking for his knife.
“Get her out of here!” Lori was twisting the knife as Ryan flung his arms behind him, desperately trying to dislodge the knife. But Lori held on to the blade, teeth clenched, not giving an inch.
“I said get her out…”
There was a crash from the outer room and Sam was there, pulling Taryn out of the room. The last thing she saw was Lori, covered in what Taryn hoped was Ryan’s blood, both hands clasped around the handle of the knife.
She met Taryn’s eyes for a moment, held her gaze and for an instant Taryn knew everything was good between them. There was a hint of a smile on Lori’s face.
Then Ryan tossed his head back, hitting Lori in the forehead. She staggered, the knife coming loose. In that instant, Sam pulled Taryn out of the room. He practically flung her down the front steps, pushing her to the sidewalk.
“Are you hurt? Is this your blood?” He was peering at her in the dim light from the lone streetlight down the block.
Taryn shook her head. “No, I think it’s all Ryan’s. Sam…Lori’s in there. Help her.”
Sam looked back up the stairs. “Bec is there too. Stay here. Do not move.” He kissed her quickly and then was gone, up the stairs into the shop and out of sight.
Taryn stood on the sidewalk, fidgeting, shifting from one foot to the other. It had started to rain again and she was soon soaked to the skin. Her teeth began to chatter and she hopped up and down, trying in vain to warm herself.
The sound behind her made her blood run cold, chilling her even more than she already was. When the smell washed over her, she froze. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest and without turning she knew exactly what was behind her. She was paralyzed, wanting to run, wanting to scream for Sam or Lori or Bec. But her throat clicked, her mouth suddenly dry.
The click of a claw on the sidewalk sent her in motion. She turned left, almost running into the creature. It skidded sideways and she finally found her voice, a piercing scream coming from her lips.
Sam was in the shop and she wanted him, but the wolf-thing was
between her and Sam. She didn’t think she could outrun this thing for very long, if at all. But the only other place she could think of was Lori’s apartment. Taryn spun around, adrenaline flooding her body. She ran faster than she’d ever done in her life, ducking down the alley that ran next to Lori’s apartment.
She was too afraid to look behind her, all her concentration on not slipping on the wet pavement. The dark opening of the alley appeared and she ducked into it, knocking over a garbage can. The booming sound sent her heart into over-drive and her chest felt like it was going to explode.
And then she saw it. The wall at the other end of the alley. She’d assumed it went straight through, to the street. But some asshole had built a wall. She was trapped, in a garbage-strewn courtyard a stone’s throw from Lori’s apartment.
Taryn jumped at the wall, but it was too tall for her to get a handhold. She looked around frantically for something to stand on, dragging over a box. But the rotten wood gave way as soon as she stepped on it, sending her sprawling on the dirty wet cement.
She heard the wet slobbery growl of the creature before she saw it. Lying on the pavement, looking up, it was horrific, yellow fangs; the neck covered in matted fur and dried blood. She could see what looked like gaping wounds, old and crusty, but still oozing blood.
It was Arden, still caught between death and life. And now he was apparently intent on ending hers.
He lunged and she rolled, landing on her side, his fangs biting the air where she’d just been. As she lay on the pavement, he stood on his hind legs, lifting his deformed muzzle to the sky. The sound he made was far from anything Taryn had ever heard.
With lightning speed, he swept his arm forward catching her under the waist with his forearm, his long claws cutting easily through her jacket and shirt, the pain searing her skin. She cried out and then she was flying through the air.
The crash knocked the breath out of her, the pavement gritty under her face. She took a breath, but nothing happened. She tried again, her lungs refusing to work. The world faded to gray and then even that disappeared. The last thing she heard was the sound of the thing, a sound like a laugh. But that couldn’t be right. Laughter was the wrong sound. But then even that was gone.