Pack of Freaks: Beasts Among Us - Book 2

by Jennifer Zamboni

  I couldn’t answer him. Instead, I turned the key he’d pushed under the door over in my hand. I suppose that meant the ball was in my court yet again, but I didn’t know what to do with the ball.

  I let the key fall to the floor with a clink. I’d deal with it later. For now, I didn’t want it. I was grateful that it was in my possession, instead of his, and I wondered how long he’d known where it was, or if the house had just let him find it as he was hunting me down.

  I did know that I wanted him out of my room, but I didn’t think it would be a good idea to open the door and make him

  I kept my butt parked right where it was, and waited. And waited.

  No sign of motion on the other side of the door occurred. Fine, I’d just have to develop some patience and hope he’d go far far away.

  My stomach rumbled, and I hopped to my feet and paced to distract myself.

  I could still smell Doug right outside my door, could hear him breathing.

  I was starting to get claustrophobic, so I opened the window. A cool autumn breeze brushed the hair back from my face, and I closed my eyes, filling my lungs.

  My fingers grazed the screen, accidentally pushing it too hard, dislodging it from my window. I watched it fall to the ground, land, bounce, then it lay still.

  I gauged the distance to the ground, then climbed up on the sill. If I couldn’t leave via the door, I was prepared to try alternate methods. Like jumping two stories to the ground. The worst that could happen is that I’d get a little banged up, but I would heal in a snap with all that werewolf magic in my blood, so I decided to chance it.

  I leaned out a bit, clenching the window frame, my claws gouging the wood, then launched myself.

  I landed with a thud and rolled back up to my feet. It would have been super badass if I could have landed on my feet, but the impact was jarring after the drop.

  I wondered if Doug had figured out what I had done yet, and shrugged. I needed to get my truck but didn’t want to run, so I walked around the house until I reached the kitchen door, then went in search of Percy or Hades.

  Both made themselves scarce, so I called Scott. I knew he would pick up, I knew he’d give me a ride without asking questions. I knew it was the wrong decision, but I didn’t care.

  The line only rang once. “Hey, Gretch, what’s up?”

  “Not much.” I forced my voice to be even, despite the fact that I was feeling less than calm. “I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you need?” There was a purr in his voice that I shouldn’t have encouraged.

  I loved how willing he was, the poor fool.

  “Could you come pick me up at the salon, and drive me to the mall? I know it’s late, but my truck is there, and I want it back.”

  I really hoped he wouldn’t ask for the story.

  “Sure, I’ll be there in 15.”

  Beautiful.

  I glanced down at my phone and noted that he’d already hung up.

  The end of the driveway was the best place for him to pick me up, so that’s where I headed, sitting my butt down right next to the Olympian’s Salon and Day Spa sign.

  There was still no indication of Doug, which surprised me. I wondered if he’d picked up on the fact that I’d skydived out my second-floor window.

  I patted my pocket and was satisfied that the keys were still there. I occasionally left them in the truck, except at the mall, or any other big businesses. If it’s local, or my own driveway, I don’t bother taking the keys out. It’s not like I couldn’t track down any potential thief. It’s also not like I couldn’t afford to lose my truck.

  It wasn’t long before I heard the roar of the Mustang’s engine. Scott must have raced out the door, and completely ignored the speed limit to arrive that fast. He didn’t even have a police scanner.

  Not that I’m advocating it, especially with how slow human reaction time is, but they are useful if you feel you must break the sound barrier.

  He saw me waiting and screeched to a halt.

  I watched as he leaned across the car and opened the passenger side door for me.

  “I heard you needed a ride.” He straightened up, a cocky, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

  He was wearing a backwards baseball cap over his grown out buzz cut. He’d had a mop top for all the years I’d known him. A couple of months ago, I shaved it off without his permission, simply to teach him a lesson. Now it was an inch or two long and curling around the edges of his hat.

  I got up, dusted off the seat of my pants, and slid in. I even set a good example by buckling up, despite the fact that he showed no signs of following suit.

  “Click it or ticket,” I muttered to myself, following my own instructions.

  “What?” He looked over at me before he reversed out of the driveway.

  “Nothing.”

  He grinned, and faced forward once again, hitting the gas.

  “So what’s up with you and Doug?” he asked, too nosy for his own good.

  I knew he wouldn’t have an issue with the two of us having problems, so I didn’t let him in on the fact that I was in the mood to kill my mate.

  “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” I stared at the trees flashing by the window.

  “Sure it is. Why is your truck somewhere else?”

  “I met up with someone and caught a ride home with them. I didn’t really think it through, but now I want my truck.” I lifted my rear up so I could tug the keys from my back pocket, holding them up like a prize.

  “Glad to see you didn’t leave them. Even though I doubt anyone would steal that rust bucket.” Scott made no secret of his distaste for my old clunker.

  “Hey, be nice to the truck. It works, does the A to B thing.” Not to mention Lola was in there.

  “But you could afford a much better one.”

  We had never discussed my finances before. I didn’t think he really had a clue, and I wasn’t about to reveal to him that I was set for several lifetimes if I wanted to quit working tomorrow.

  I sat back in my seat and stared straight ahead. “I like my truck.”

  Scott sniggered and pressed his foot harder on the accelerator.

  My stomach burbled as we flew up and over the top of the hill. I usually drove myself places, and much smoother than we were going. The boy needed some extra driving lessons.

  “Slow down, unless you want to clean chunks off your dashboard.” I held back a burp.

  He let his foot off the gas. There was nothing that terrified him more than something ruining his car.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I’m not a fan of vomit. So, are you ready to record?”

  “Hell yes! Are you?” Finally, something I could be genuine about.

  “We should have done this a long time ago, but Mark didn’t want to ask you to put up any money.”

  And we were back to the money again. “I’m good at saving, and I have stuff set aside for what I want. I could have said no if it were an issue.”

  “That’s what I told him.”

  We pulled off the road into the maze-like parking lot at the Bangor Mall.

  I checked the clock on the dash. Way too late to go back into Black Ink Boutique to pick up the revealing halter top, or look for boots. Oh well.

  “Keep driving, I’m parked on the other side.” I directed.

  We rounded the parking lot and there was my lonely blue truck, sitting all by itself.

  It was a friendless truck, but then one of the cool kids parked next to it.

  I got out of Scott’s car, then leaned back in to thank him. “So I’ll see you at practice on Wednesday?”

  “That’s the plan. See you later, beautiful.”

  I batted the door shut and didn’t reply.

  Scott hitting on me didn’t need to escalate, nor was it a singular occurrence. He had hit on me even when he was dating Penny. He was a dog. I’m one to talk, aren’t I?

  I waved as he drove away, then
climbed into my driver’s seat. There was just one little problem: I didn’t want to go home.

  Sitting in the parking lot, staring at the street light sitting in front of my windshield, wasn’t the most excellent use of my time. But the idea of going back and probably having a less than civil conversation with Doug just wasn’t feeling like a wise decision.

  The longer I sat, the more I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t really have any desire to sleep in my truck, so I started the engine and drove north.

  I was on the road for at least an hour, before finding a nice out of the way location to park my truck and strip. If I couldn’t go home I might as well hunt.

  As fur pierced through my pores, and fangs split my gums, I screamed. There was an answering gunshot. I thought I was far enough away from civilization to not cause trouble, but apparently not.

  And it was too late to stop the change.

  I could smell the hunter approaching. I could hear his footsteps, crashing through the woods.

  It was hunting season, and despite the fact it was after dark and therefore illegal, I was soon to be the quarry.

  My screams drew the hunter, hoping either to rescue the damsel or get in on the action. It didn’t matter, because now he had his eyes on me.

  I’m pretty sure he didn’t know what he was seeing, I was only partly morphed.

  “Run away,” I tried to scream around a distorted mouthful of fangs.

  The hunter, a man dressed in mossy oak camo and wearing a full gray beard, didn’t seem to understand me.

  His eyes widened as he lifted the gun to his shoulder.

  I felt my snout lengthen, and I dropped onto all four paws. I shook, and my fur puffed out. I was changed.

  I snarled, trying to scare him away.

  As I lost myself, I lunged.

  A breeze tickled my bare skin and I bolted upwards, self-aware and human once more. Pine needles pricked me, and dying leaves rustled overhead. The trees were wrong, and I couldn’t place my finger on why. Maybe it was the distance between them, or the way the undergrowth behaved, but I definitely was a long way from home.

  I didn’t taste stale blood on my tongue, but that meant nothing. There was a very good chance I’d found a puddle or a stream and washed down my hunter tartare.

  Now, I had to face the fact that I had no clothes, and I had no clue where I was. In fact, I didn’t know if I was even in the state anymore. Or how long I’d been mentally checked out.

  I stood, dusting off my naked ass. There was nothing to do but walk.

  I sniffed around the area and found myself less than wolfy. Apparently, it had been a very long time, because I was human. Fully human. I was out long enough to hit the new moon.

  It was dang cold, as it was somewhere around November, probably around 43 degrees. I checked the sun and wondered if it were morning or evening.

  I didn’t know what direction I was facing. If the rumors were true, moss grew on the north side of trees, so I chose to believe it and started walking what should have been east, and sunrise.

  I tried to calculate the date, but my brain was fuzzy on that at best. As far as I could tell, I hadn’t missed our recording session, but I had missed some important practices. I knew I could keep up with my boys, and any changes they may have made. That would stop them from being mad as hell when I found my way home.

  I was irate with myself, for what, I wasn’t quite sure yet. Maybe if I could find a newspaper, I might be able to find out, first off the date, and second off, if I’d eaten that hunter.

  When I was first bitten, the thought would have made me sick; now, I was more resigned to the fact.

  I continued walking, my very human feet, despite their callouses, getting little cuts and bruises from rocks and underbrush.

  I had to run into people eventually, but I was betting a full clothesline was too much to ask for. It was definitely drier season.

  I heard dogs barking, and my ears perked up.

  And then I heard car horns, and voices. I was near a city. How the hell was I supposed to get clothes unnoticed in a city?

  A tall naked mutt chick would tend to get noticed, but what choice did I have?

  I kept on towards all the noise. The sooner I got near people, the sooner I’d find out what had happened.

  The trees thinned, and I crossed a few roads. There were plenty of houses in the suburbs I dodged through, and no open doors. The noise grew as I crossed some sort of invisible line into the city.

  I came out in an alley, walking boldly down the center. It wasn’t like I could hide if I wanted to.

  I rounded the corner and found myself in a little neighborhood. It must have been the weekend because there was a group of little girls in pigtails playing double Dutch.

  They gaped at me as I walked by, the rope tangling in their short, little legs, causing one to trip and fall.

  “Mom!” another yelled, finding her way loose. “Mom!”

  I ran to the nearest apartment door. It wasn’t exactly the upper crust of town, so I didn’t worry about getting buzzed in. I dashed up the stairs until I heard shouts through an open doorway.

  A teenage boy and his mother stood in the tiniest kitchen I’d ever seen, shouting about homework. She was smaller than me, but I took the shot anyway.

  “Um, excuse me.” I interrupted their argument. Like they couldn’t see me. “Could I possibly borrow some clothes?”

  “Damn!” the boy said and whistled.

  His mother ran around me and slapped a hand over her son’s eyes.

  “In the open bedroom down the hall.” She pointed with her free hand.

  My, how accommodating. I didn’t expect her not to call the cops, so I made it quick, grabbing a skirt and a sweater off the floor.

  I stuffed myself into them, wiggling and jumping around the room. The fit was obscene, but it covered the important bits.

  “Thank you!” I called as I ran back out the door.

  The woman was on the phone, her eyes wide. The boy winked and waved.

  Back out on the street, I waved to the double Dutch girls. A couple of them waved back, much to my surprise.

  I wove my way through buildings, into busy streets, and I started recognizing things.

  How on earth did I end up in New York City? My wolf headed for what she knew. A place where I’d run free once.

  I slowed my pace and kept to the sidewalks. Despite my ill-fitting clothes, there were others even worse off. I slowed my pace further, letting myself blend into the crowd.

  I had no phone, no money, and no wolf. It was going to be a long walk home. Also, I was starving. There was no way of knowing when I’d last eaten.

  I was never a good pickpocket, else I would’ve stolen the money. At least if the person had a driver’s license on them, I could return the money plus interest once I got home. There was a time that I wouldn’t have had any qualms, but over the years I’ve developed a conscience.

  I wandered around for a while, trying to gather my bearings. I could start walking in a Maine-ward direction, but it would be best if I could find someone I could con into giving me a ride, at least part way.

  It would have been even more convenient if I could find a pay phone, then I could call Percy, and make her come pick me up, or at least send someone else to do the job. Pay phones were in short supply, what with cell phones taking over the world and all.

  My cell phone, my wallet, and my clothes were probably still lying on the ground where I’d changed. Unless the police had come across them, then I was in a world of trouble when I got home.

  When it got dark, maybe then I could do something. My current plan was to steal a phone.

  In the meantime, I wandered, my stomach rumbling loudly in my ears.

  At least there wasn’t a wolf pack to throw a fuss about my being here. City and werewolves are a bad mix. We tend to stick to more rural areas. It still surprised me that I was the local pack in Maine, and I’d only lived there for about 10 years. As far as I
knew, there were no lone wolves there either.

  The fact that I’d been neglected by my former pack was due to special circumstances of the times. I was of mixed races, I was a woman, and I was a prostitute. Needless to say, it hadn’t been Alpha Kaine’s choice to change me. It had been the changer himself. He’d watched me and saw one of the rare women who might survive his bite. He was right about me, and wrong about his pack.

  He disappeared as soon as he’d bitten me, expecting the pack to care for me. Instead, they’d dumped me back in my brothel, letting me heal on my own.

  With no pack to support me, or guide me, I’d killed every last human being inside the brothel the first time I’d been forced to change by the full moon and had been on the run ever since. Until Percy found me.

  Lacey-Marie and I had attended cosmetology school together in the city I was roaming. That year or so had been tough, but we had held each other accountable, or so I thought.

  I sat on a bench, crossing my arms over my chest, and attempting to nap in the cool sunshine.

  As I was currently fully human, I had less than adequate body heat for this feat, so I mostly sat there and shivered.

  It was dusk when I took up position behind one of the trees in the park and waited.

  Joggers ran through there at all times of day, and half the night as well. One just had to run close enough, when there didn’t happen to be anyone else in the immediate vicinity to hear them scream.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  A petite brunette was swiftly approaching my hiding place. I waited, hardly daring to breathe, hoping she wouldn’t notice me.

  As she made her way past, I reached out and grabbed her by the back of her tank top. I slapped my other hand over her mouth, cutting off her scream.

  “No noise, understand?” I shoved my face close to hers and hissed out my words. “I don’t want to hurt you, I just need your cell phone.”

  I waited for her nod, then removed her hand.

  “Come on, chicky, cell phone.”

  The brunette reached a shaky hand into the top of her sports bra and produced a tiny cell.

  I kept her pinned against the tree with my arm, flipped it open, and dialed Percy’s number from memory, then waited.