Pack of Freaks: Beasts Among Us - Book 2

by Jennifer Zamboni

  “Good, I certainly love having you here,” Percy said, rubbing one palm affectionately down my arm.

  I smiled, “I’m glad you still feel that way.”

  She pulled me into a hug and stroked my hair. “Of course I do. I will always need you here.”

  I picked up Clarissa to work on a piece I’d written to go along with one of Mark’s new songs. It still sounded too wolfy to play in public. I was struggling to keep the beast out of the music.

  As per usual, the music overtook me, my arms and my fingers were no longer a part of me, they were a part of a magic all their own. My rapture was interrupted when the door opened and Doug sauntered in.

  I barely had time to set the antique violin aside before his lips descended on mine, kissing me slowly. If a wolf could purr, that’s what mine would have been doing, languid in my subconscious, despite the race of my pulse.

  “Isn’t your band supposed to be practicing tonight?” he asked, pulling back from me, his wolf sparking in his eyes.

  I glanced at the clock. Practice started in 10 minutes. “Oh crap!” I gave my violin a quick wipe down with a soft cloth and thrust her back into her case.

  My bag in one hand, sheet music in the other, I pounded down the stairs and out to my truck. I leaned over, turned on my radar detector and scanner, then sped to Austin’s.

  Normally, I beat Scott there, but his car was already parked in the driveway. Mark was there was well. Double crap.

  My old truck shuddered a little as I pulled in and turned it off. I should probably get that looked at soon, a mechanic I was not.

  “Sorry I’m late!” I yelled as I plowed through the front door.

  “Get your ass in here, Gretch!” Mark yelled from the living room as Austin’s wife handed me a bottled water and rolled her eyes.

  I hustled, getting plugged in and my music set up on the stand in front of me.

  Mark was smiling at me, cuing me in on the fact he was only giving me a hard time.

  “Did you get an opportunity to work on your part?” he asked, picking an absent melody on his guitar.

  “I did. I was working on it right before I left. I might have gotten a little sucked in,” I admitted, handing over the revised piece.

  Mark took it and looked through it, his lips moving silently as he read, probably trying to imagine how it would sound with the rest of the music he had written.

  “This is amazing,” he spoke with heartfelt enthusiasm as he handed it back.

  “Of course it is,” Scott said, “Gretchen wrote it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You haven’t even heard it yet.”

  “Everything you write is perfect,” he insisted.

  This elicited another eye roll from me and a head shake to accompany it.

  “Where’s your ring?” he asked as I started warming up, pointing at my empty finger.

  I ignored him. My rings were hanging on a heavy chain around my neck so I wouldn’t risk losing them if I shifted. The necklace had been my best compromise. They were still on display but I wouldn’t have to borrow Scott’s metal detector again anytime soon. Or at least, that was the goal.

  Austin counted us off using three clicks of his drum sticks to set the tempo. We ran through some familiar pieces before tackling the new material. Mark wanted to make sure there were a few songs on the album that no one had heard us play before, hence why I had to work on a new piece.

  “All right, it’s the intro by Gretchen, then I’ll come in quietly, then you, Scott; we’ll up the intensity just a little there, then, when Austin joins in, we’ll hit the ceiling. This song is going to blow people’s minds, but only if we get this just right,” said Mark. What he wasn’t saying was if he didn’t think it was perfect, it wasn’t going on the album. “Got it?”

  “Yeah, yeah, we got it,” Scott muttered.

  We all heard him and chose to ignore it.

  I set Lola under my chin and made sure to remove all synthesized sound and distortion from her. Not too long ago a laptop had joined my equipment, which made it easier to manipulate my sound, plus gave me a whole new world of options. The introduction I had written was very classical: floating and melancholy.

  Mark didn’t join in, instead, he frowned when his cue came up. I pulled my violin from under my chin. “What?”

  “It’s not right.” He shook his head.

  “It’s exactly what I wrote.” I tapped my sheet music with my bow.

  “Start again,” he requested.

  “Okay.” I drew my bow across the strings and played a few measures.

  Mark interrupted, “Stop, stop, stop.”

  “What?” I couldn’t detect anything wrong. I was in tune, I was in classical mode as we had discussed when I’d begun writing it.

  “It’s not warm enough, not full enough. It doesn’t sound like a real violin,” he attempted to explain.

  “Well, it’s an electric, what did you expect?”

  “Bring in your acoustic next practice then.” His tone left no room for argument or compromise.

  I hesitated. I couldn’t remember ever playing Clarissa in front of the guys. She was a part of my wolf. The much newer electric didn’t have the same connection to my wild side and therefore it was more human when I played.

  I shook my head, staring at the piece. “I don’t know about that—”

  “Come on, this song really needs the sound of a real violin.” Mark gave me puppy dog sad eyes and stuck out his lower lip.

  “Fine,” I relented and wondered what I was getting myself into. Would playing Clarissa for the guys force me to reveal myself to them? I wasn’t ready for that and I was pretty sure they weren’t either.

  “Great! We’ll just have to try it out like this today, and I’ll get a mic or two to pick up the acoustic. Is that cool with you guys?” he asked the others’ opinion for the first time.

  “Sounds awesome to me,” said Austin. “I’d love to hear Gretchen play the real thing.”

  Yeah, right he would. I’d bet if any of the guys really heard me play, they’d run screaming for the hills. I would have to come up with a way to only sort of play, to shut part of myself down. Hopefully, it would be enough.

  Scott just shrugged, not really caring. I doubt he’d heard a live violin before, or at least a well-played one.

  We ran through the song a couple of times, focusing mostly on the strict timing Mark had come up with. It was easily the most complicated song he had ever written, and he was a spectacular composer.

  Without Austin’s wife home, she’d gone out with some friends, I tried not to linger too long after practice. Scott seemed to be on a mission to make me uncomfortable.

  He was succeeding.

  “So how are things going with that kid you’re fostering?” Scott asked, leaning on the counter next to me, sipping a bottle of Poland Spring water.

  “Fine,” I lied. “She’s really bonding with Doug.”

  “Leaving you with plenty of free time to yourself?”

  “Not really.” I decided not to elaborate. An extended discussion would only encourage him in his flirtation.

  Scott, of course, didn’t take the hint. “Must suck to have some random teenager take up so much of your new husband’s time. Maybe you can use it to get in more practice time for the album. I’m free anytime to jam.”

  “She’s not some random kid. She’s my godchild.” Well, sort of. It was the best I could come up with. “Doug and I both are trying hard to make her feel like a member of our family.”

  Scott made a huffing sound that I did my best to ignore.

  “Wanna grab a drink?” he asked, shifting gears.

  “Not tonight,” I begged off. “I have plans.” And I did. I wanted to see how Doug had redecorated our bedroom. I also wanted to go for a run. I needed to blow off some steam and found myself suddenly missing Lacey-Marie as a sparring partner.

  “Rain check?”

  “Yeah, sure, I’d like to go out with you guys sometime soon,” I ma
de a point of not making the rain check for just Scott and me. “How ’bout you guys? You up for a night out, maybe next weekend sometime?”

  “Sounds good,” said Austin. “I’ll mention it to Denise when she gets home. She had fun last time she came out, and we finally made the announcement.”

  “Great! You in, Mark? And Rachel too, of course.” I pretended to be far more excited than I felt.

  “Sure,” Mark said. “We could use a night out.”

  “I nodded encouragingly. “I’ll invite my chickies.” I referred to my coworkers and maybe Natasha the Russian. Of course, this left me with the question of who would watch Evangeline and also, should I invite the freaks?

  That as settled as it was going to get, I excused myself to head home.

  Scott followed me to the driveway.

  “What?” I said, my hand on my truck door.

  He placed his hand on the door as well as if he could stop me from opening it. “Why did you do it?” he asked.

  “Do what?” I didn’t have a clue what he was referring to.

  “Marry that Neanderthal.”

  My expression went stony. “Watch yourself.” I fought to keep from digging my claws into the metal.

  “Fine, but why did you?” He leaned dangerously close to me.

  “Um, because I love him. I would have thought that was fairly obvious.”

  “Seriously?” His eyes narrowed, and the stench of testosterone rolled off him.

  Apparently not.

  I yanked hard on the handle, sending him stumbling a few steps. “Yes, seriously.”

  “I wouldn’t think he could handle you.”

  Wow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Before Doug was turned, he had settled me like no one else. Now that he was a wolf, and we were fully mated, I felt it still. Which Scott should be thankful for because the settling was helping me keep my other half at bay right then. It wouldn’t do to rip out my friend’s throat in Austin’s driveway.

  “I mean, you’re a force of nature, and he’s . . .” Scott paused to choose his words, “nothing like that.”

  I cracked a smile. If only he knew the truth. “Oh, he’s a force of nature all right,” I purred. I was a hurricane and he was gravity.

  “He’s a freak, Gretchen.”

  My smile disappeared, and I clenched my fists, fighting myself as I felt my wolf rising.

  “So am I,” I hissed through clenched teeth. Teeth that I could feel broadening and sharpening.

  I climbed into my truck and slammed the door before I lost it. I put my truck into gear and just missed Denise’s car as I pulled out into the street.

  I didn’t stay to apologize. Instead, I careened out of town and towards home. I couldn’t afford to stop in the house, so I just jumped out of the truck and raced on foot for the woods, shedding clothing as I approached the trees. My change was quick and painful, and I relished the adrenaline rush as I landed on all fours. The fact that the full moon was only days away hastened my change and charged my senses. There were deer nearby, so I slowed my run to stalk them silently, then went in for the kill. The fact that my kill would go unreported meant nothing to me. I was an animal, and I didn’t need the government to tell me so.

  I remained in wolf form as I brought my kill home. My clothes could wait, I told myself.

  Like a good dog, I dragged the deer into the kitchen, depositing it at Percy’s feet, then sank back on my haunches, my tail wagging.

  “Gretchen, really. What kind of example do you think you’re setting for your young protégé?” Percy stood, placing her hands on her hips.

  I whined and nudged the deer, then straightened again.

  “Not to mention the example you are setting your wolf.”

  I cocked my head to one side and harrumphed.

  Evangeline sat staring at the deer hungrily. There was even the slightest bit of drool seeping from one corner of her mouth. She licked it away and whined.

  “Oh no.” Percy held up her hand. “We cook our meat in this house.” She turned to me. “Go hang that thing in the barn. Looks like we’ll all be feasting during the full moon.”

  I gave her a wolfy smile, then grabbed my kill by the throat I had already mangled and headed out with it. I changed in the barn and hung it where we always hung fresh kills, in the back, then headed to the converted tack room to grab a robe.

  The room was much emptier without Caleb there, and it was nice not to have an audience.

  Back inside the house, I trudged up the narrow servant’s stairs in search of my bedroom and my husband. The hairy man himself must have heard my approach because he stood in front of our bedroom door in his full hirsute glory, which is to say, he was wearing the nylon gym pants and a long-sleeved Under Armour shirt that he preferred during his hairiest days of the month.

  I loved the Under Armour shirt anytime, but I have to admit I’m not a fan of track pants on anyone, even Doug.

  “Hey, babe,” he said, kissing me before I could look inside.

  “Hi,” I said as I pulled away.

  “Come on in.” He stepped to the side, bowing with a flourish worthy of his sideshow days and gestured into the room.

  “You’ve been busy I see.” I walked past him and took it all in. He had replaced our bed with a massive oak one. The cover was replaced with a thick woven blanket. In place of my worn armchair was a heavy leather loveseat. The rug had been mended, probably by Christina. The side tables matched the bed and my floor lamps were replaced by wall mounts.

  “Well this all looks sturdy,” I said when I had my fill of staring.

  “You don’t like it?” Doug’s face fell under his beard.

  “Of course I do.” I moved back to him and kissed his hairy cheek, placing my hands on his chest.

  “I figured the leather would be harder for us to destroy.” He took my hands in his and led me further into the room

  “Probably true,” I replied, taking a seat on the bed, sinking comfortably into it. “Oh!”

  “Memory foam,” Doug stated proudly. “I thought of getting one of those sleep number things, but it would seem that a layer of foam is much easier to replace.”

  I smiled at that and patted the bed next to me.

  “Just one more thing.” Doug crossed the room and opened a wall-mounted cabinet, also made of heavy oak that I had overlooked as simple storage, revealing an entertainment center, featuring a flat screen and a Bose stereo. “Yes?”

  “Definitely yes. Now get over here,” I demanded, kicking my shoes off, and rested back into the stack of pillows.

  Doug grinned and joined me. “So do you like it?”

  “Very much, it’s beautiful.”

  “Do you want to know how much it all cost?”

  “Nope.”

  He laughed, then settled himself with his head on my lap, and we both enjoyed the quiet.

  Full moon.

  The wolf stretched until all the muscles in her body released. It had been a good night of playing with her pack. She left them in a pile to search out breakfast.

  Instead, she found The Woman.

  She had come across many two-leggers before, but not many that didn’t smell at all human or of nature. This one smelled Other, even stronger than the upright alpha.

  The Woman was carrying a leash and a collar again, stinking of determination.

  The wolf growled, baring her teeth and wrinkling up her muzzle. The hackles on her back raised up and she advanced slowly, ready to fight.

  “That’s enough,” said The Woman, her voice full of Other command. “Sit and remain still.”

  The wolf found herself obeying, against her own wishes, sinking back on her haunches, and put her teeth away, though even the effect of the Other couldn’t keep her from rumbling deep in her throat.

  The Woman buckled the choke collar high up on her neck, just under her ears, then attached the leash. She released the animal with a wave of her hand, then led her out of the wolf pen and into the aisle of the barn.
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  “Sit,” said The Woman, using only the tiniest Other command to keep the wolf from bolting or attacking.

  The wolf glared at The Woman and rumbled.

  “Sit,” The Woman commanded again, this time pulling up on the leash and pushing down on the wolf’s rump with the other hand, until she was forced to sink back onto her haunches.

  “Good dog!” she praised, giving the great beast a treat.

  This routine was repeated for 10 or 20 minutes until the Woman deemed it was time to stop.

  The wolf was released back into the kennel, where her pack was just waking. She did not like The Woman anymore or how she was forced to obey her, but she did like the treats.

  So when The Woman returned twice more that day, and three times a day for all of the full moon, the wolf submitted to being collared and leashed.

  I hefted myself up onto the kitchen counter and unwrapped a Slim Jim. I’d had the weirdest craving for them as I came back to myself, and I had found a stash of them in one of the cabinets as soon as I made it inside.

  I desperately needed a shower after three days as a wolf, but food took precedent.

  “Nice hair,” Evangeline commented, slamming the door behind her.

  I resisted the urge to touch my wild, tangled curls and made myself care for my pack.

  Normally, Percy had a big breakfast waiting for us after the three-day wolf phase, but we had come to earlier than usual, so I took charge.

  Rummaging in the fridge, I came upon the eighteen pack of eggs I knew would be waiting, and a pack of bacon.

  “Where’s Doug?” I asked, straightening and making sure to face my charge fully.

  She shrugged and gave a little grunt, before turning away from me.

  So helpful.

  I cracked all the eggs into a mixing bowl and beat them with a whisk, while the bacon in the pan began sizzling.

  Doug entered the kitchen and started heating another frying pan, without being asked. To that, he added olive oil, salt, and various spices that struck his fancy.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” He kissed me, then took the bowl of eggs from me.

  “Morning,” I replied with a smile.

  We danced around each other, getting breakfast ready. Percy’s kitchen was a large one, so we rarely got in each other’s way, though that didn’t stop us from accidentally-on-purpose stepping in one another’s path to steal a kiss, brush an arm, or even commit a few playful pinches.