Victor

by Taylor Longford

  "I like it long," Mim chirped encouragingly.

  "I'm on the fence," Elaina muttered.

  "Me too," Mac agreed.

  "What else could I try?" I asked, dropping my hands to my sides.

  "Your eyes are a problem," Elaina finally suggested.

  I scowled back at her. "What's wrong with them?"

  "That crystalline aqua drives girls crazy," she explained. Reason gave her a dark look and she quickly added, "Not me, of course."

  Whitney snapped her fingers. "You could get some brown contacts and muddy up your eye color."

  "What's wrong with brown eyes?" MacKenzie exclaimed, looking slightly insulted.

  "Nothing," Whitney answered swiftly, realizing her mistake.

  "I think the eye-color thing would be like the hair-length thing," Mim suggested tactfully. "Victor might end up looking better with brown eyes."

  "You're right," Elaina sighed before adding, "Your chin's a problem, too. And your dimples."

  "A big problem," Whitney agreed. "Could you grow a beard? A really ugly, scraggly beard?"

  "Gargoyles don't grow facial hair," I grunted, crossing my arms over my chest and flicking an impatient look into the forest.

  "No beards?" she questioned, looking surprised.

  "Nor moustaches," I growled.

  She turned a disappointed look on Defiance. "You never mentioned that."

  "I didn't think it mattered," he answered in a low drawl, pulling her hips into his and lowering his mouth to her neck.

  "Oh," she gasped while the rest of the pack snickered. "No, I guess it doesn't matter at all."

  "Let's face it," MacKenzie said as she searched my face. "Nothing short of plastic surgery is going to fix Victor's problem."

  "Plastic surgery?" I echoed thoughtfully. I knew that doctors could perform surgery to change your appearance, though it was usually done to make you better looking rather than the other way around.

  "Forget it," Reason cut in with a growling burst of laughter. "We aren't going to let you do that. Samantha's just going to have to come around."

  "You'll just have to be the nicest guy on earth," Elaina suggested.

  "But he's already the nicest guy on earth," Mim pointed out then quickly corrected herself as her gaze slanted toward her dark-haired boyfriend. "Well, besides Dare."

  So I figured I could work on being nice but I wasn't sure that's what Samantha wanted. On the other hand, I was certain there was a story behind her dislike for good-looking guys, something that made her wary of taking a chance on someone like me. "I need to find out what she has against handsome," I murmured.

  "Good idea," Elaina said. "Just guessing, I'd say somebody probably broke her heart. You just need to show her that you're not like that somebody."

  "Alright," I said, thinking that I'd need to know who that somebody was before I could figure out how to not be like him.

  "We'd better get cleaned up," MacKenzie suggested, changing the subject and cutting into my thoughts. "We need to get down to the mall in time for some shopping."

  The girls were going shopping for prom dresses. Not that they were actually going to prom. Because as sophomores, they couldn't attend without an invitation from an older student. And of course they wouldn't consider going with one of the boys from school, even though Mac and Whitney had both been invited.

  Of course, Elaina was out of high school so she didn't have a prom to go to. And Torrie's school was having their prom on a different night. Anyway, the girls had planned a romantic dinner with their boyfriends at a fancy restaurant on the night of Pine Grove's prom. And they were going in full formal wear. Elaina had promised to pick something out for Torrie since she couldn't make the shopping trip.

  "Sure you won't come?" Mac offered.

  "Shopping for dresses?" I asked with a wry smile.

  She smiled back. "To dinner."

  "Thanks for asking," I answered. "But I don't want to be a third wheel."

  "Actually, if you went, you'd be more like an eleventh wheel," Havoc pointed out. "And I would be the twelfth."

  MacKenzie's expression went south as she wheeled on Havoc. "You aren't coming either?"

  "Someone has to keep Victor company," he answered with a grin.

  "But what will you guys do?" she asked, looking upset.

  "Tara's throwing a party over at her place," Havoc soothed and planted his elbow in my ribs. "We wouldn't want to miss that, would we?"

  It was the first I'd heard about the party but I knew the pack would insist we join them if we didn't have something else planned. "Nay," I answered, forcing an enthusiastic smile onto my face as I rubbed a hand over my bruised ribs. "We wouldn't want to miss that."

  "Tara isn't going to prom?" MacKenzie questioned.

  "She couldn't get a date and didn't want to go alone," Havoc explained.

  We all knew that Tara had invited Defiance and he'd turned her down. Then she'd asked Havoc and he was offended that he was only her second choice.

  "So she decided to have a party instead," Havoc continued. "She expects a lot of people from prom to turn up there later on."

  "What about Alexa? Is she going to prom with Ryan?" Whitney asked conversationally as we made our way back to the house.

  Alexa isn't exactly our favorite person. She has enough red in her hair to be a problem and her magic had endangered Whitney in the past. But Defiance and I had talked to her after the Whitney incident and I was still hoping she'd turn her life around.

  "I heard they split up again last week," MacKenzie answered.

  Whitney made a face. "Again?"

  "Yeah, but they'll probably be together again before graduation."

  "They really are perfect for each other, aren't they?" Whitney chuckled.

  "Yeah, in all the wrong ways," MacKenzie answered with a snicker.

  On prom night, the girls came down the stairway at MacKenzie's house looking amazing in their long frocks. Of course, they'd have looked nice in black trash bags; they're a lovely bunch of lasses.

  The girls thought they'd become prettier after taking small amounts of our venom…which they'd done to build up a resistance to the poison. But if the venom acted like some kind of beauty potion, we couldn't see it. To us, the girls were as beautiful as they'd always been. That said, they were definitely at their best now.

  Of course, the guys were dressed in their best as well, all of them having invested in shirts and ties…which their girlfriends had to help them knot. But Mac wore deep emerald silk while Whitney wore black velvet and Mim was dressed in a frothy white confection that floated down to her toes. Elaina's blue taffeta gown accented her eyes while Torrie's gold dress with tight black bustier accented her figure.

  "Here, you'll need this," Chaos insisted, wrapping his jacket around Torrie as soon as he saw her in her dress.

  "But it's not cold out," she argued.

  "That not why you need it," he growled, lifting an eyebrow as his gaze got caught on her bust line. "I don't want the waiters getting distracted and spilling soup down the back of my neck."

  "It's not that provocative," she scoffed and turned to Havoc for support.

  Havoc tapped a finger against his chin as he considered her dress. Then he turned to Chaos and asked, "Do you have a turtleneck you could wear?"

  "A turtleneck?" he almost shouted. "No way! I've only just figured out this tie!"

  "I know, but I think a turtleneck would be safest," Havoc answered with a dramatic sigh.

  "And I think the jacket will work just fine," Chaos insisted stubbornly.

  "Don't worry," Elaina told Torrie, snickering as she elbowed her in the ribs. "You can sit beside me if Chaos doesn't want to take his chances."

  That turned Chaos around. For a second he looked alarmed. Then his eyes narrowed on Elaina. "Don't make trouble," he growled, and wagged a long finger at her. "Torrie will sit beside me where she belongs."

  And for several hours after the pack had left for Denver, Havoc and I sat on the c
ouch playing video games. We'd long since graduated from the old ones Mac's brother had left behind when he went off to University and were deep into the latest pirate game Havoc had bought with his share of money from our bow sales. MacKenzie's mother joined us for a while and kicked our sorry butts until she went to bed. Then we were on our own.

  "We'd better get going," Havoc finally suggested as he threw down his controller and glanced at the dark windows. "It's almost midnight."

  I wrapped my fingers around one of my silver wristbands and gave it a twist. "Aye, we'd better put in an appearance," I agreed with a sigh. "MacKenzie will be sure to check with her friends to find out if we were there. We need to be able to tell the pack we went to the party and had a good time."

  "It'll give us a chance to stretch our wings," Havoc pointed out as he got to his feet, always finding the bright side of any situation. You gotta love that about Havoc. It takes an awful lot to wear him down.

  It was a nice night with clear starry skies and only a slight chill in the air so we walked over to the park, opened our wings and took off from the cliffs. We landed in a secluded field about a half-mile from the party then walked the rest of the way.

  As soon as I stepped through the door of Tara's big stucco-faced home, someone put a beer in my hand and about a million girls mobbed me. Havoc disappeared around a corner with a slightly smaller mob of girls while I took a sip from the bottle. The golden brew wasn't bad although it was a lot lighter and fizzier than the ale from back in my time.

  I have to admit I was surprised when Alexa didn't jump on me the minute she saw me. She's Tara's best friend so of course she was there. Her upswept hairdo and heavy makeup suggested that she'd come from the prom. But if so, she'd ditched her gown for a tight pair of jeans and a white blouse I could almost see through.

  I looked away quickly. And as I glanced around the spacious living room with its gleaming hardwood floors and fine leather furniture, Alexa was actually headed in the other direction. She glanced back at me before she stopped to talk to a group of football players easily identified by their short hair as well as the blue and gold jerseys they were wearing. Pine Grove had gone to "state" the previous winter. They'd done well and had a lot to be proud of so it wasn't surprising that they were wearing their colors.

  "Aye, I'm from England," I answered the girl who stood on her toes and shouted a question into my ear. In addition to the loud music blaring from the speakers, there were about a zillion conversations going on in the crowded house. One girl was talking about her shoes. Another was saying something about a haircut but I tuned out most of the chatter and tried to focus on the questions that were coming fast and furious from the girls around me.

  "You won't believe this," Havoc whispered from across the room, knowing that only I would hear him. I raised my head and found him over by an arch leading to another room. He was grinning back at me, and lifted a blue box in his hands. "I found an old Parcheesi game on a bookcase in the dining room."

  I shook my head and grinned back at him as he disappeared around the corner again. "York," I answered the girl at my elbow as I heard Havoc's dice rattle across the game board. "Nay, it's not very close to London."

  They were a nice enough bunch of girls but it was tiring answering the same questions over and over again. So after about ten minutes of that, I locked myself in the bathroom for five minutes to shake off the girls then sneaked downstairs, finding a black leather couch tucked into a dark corner. I took a seat, stretching my legs, and watched the football team knocking balls around on a table covered with green felt. As the balls smacked against each other, the sound was familiar and I realized they were playing billiards…or probably pool, actually, since I was in America.

  Ryan Myerson was in the game. He really is a nasty person with a powerfully bad vibe and his close presence was messing with my sensing radar. A harpy could have been standing behind me and I probably wouldn't have known. But I wasn't expecting any trouble from him because Dare had straightened him out a few months ago after he'd insulted Mim. And ever since then, Ryan had pretty much avoided the rest of us.

  But I'd forgotten about the pack mentality and the liquid courage factor. With a few beers inside him and most of his offensive line behind him, Ryan was experiencing a surge in bravery. Of course it didn't help when his on-again off-again girlfriend found me in my dark corner and plunked her derriere in my lap.

  "Alexa," I murmured, quickly lifting her and depositing her beside me on the couch. "How are you doing, m'dear?"

  "M'dear?" Ryan sneered, reacting so quickly that he took me by surprise. It was almost like he was waiting for me to say something he could jump on. Finishing his shot, he wheeled around to face me, his face a mask of contempt.

  "It's a quaint old expression of affection," I explained with an easy smile. "I'm from England."

  "So you think you're better than us because you're from England?" he spat.

  "I didn't say that," I pointed out.

  "And is that what your dear old auntie called you?" one of his big teammates snorted, his jersey stamped with the number Ninety-nine.

  "Nay," I answered slowly, deciding to mess with him a bit. "She called me Hacker."

  "Hacker?" he crowed, gripping his pool cue in his big hands and bracing it on the floor between his feet. "And why would she call you that? Are you some kind of computer nerd?"

  "Not at all," I answered in a soft slide of words. "I think it had more to do with the wolf I killed when I was thirteen. The tip of my blade broke on his skull and by the time I was done with him, I'd ruined the pelt. My aunt never let me live it down."

  "Yeah, right," Ninety-nine sneered. "Like you killed a wolf when you were thirteen."

  "England doesn't even have any wolves," Ninety-six snarled.

  He was right. Wolves had been extinct in England since the eighteenth century…but I was surprised he knew that. "There was when I was there," I muttered in a low voice.

  By now they had me penned on the couch, the four tall teenagers standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of me. "She should have called you Blondilocks with hair like that," Ninety-nine suggested. He reached out and flicked his thick fingers through my hair.

  I didn't answer. I eyed him calmly and reviewed my options. There was a wall at my back so I couldn't count on a quick exit; I'd have to go through them. Counting Ryan, there were only four of them so I knew I wouldn't have much trouble. But if I did, Havoc was only a call away.

  Ninety crossed thick arms over his chest as he sneered down at me. "Ever play football, Blondilocks?"

  "Nay," I answered, meeting his gaze without a smile.

  His expression turned dark and his eyes narrowed. "Quit neighing when I'm talking to you. You sound like a frickin' horse. And I don't lower myself to make conversation with farm animals."

  "I'm sure your company is sorely missed down at the barnyard," I murmured. "Still the pigs are always there to make up for your absence. And I imagine the sheep are relieved."

  He glowered down at me uncertainly, like he wasn't sure if he should be insulted. But I wasn't going to explain why he should possibly entertain the idea.

  "I asked if you ever played football," he repeated, thrusting his face forward on his huge bull neck.

  "Football players don't wear girly bracelets like that," Ninety-nine snickered derisively, jabbing his pool cue at my silver wristbands. "Besides, his hair's too long for football."

  "Maybe we should cut it for him," Ninety suggested ominously.

  Having hit upon an idea they could all get behind, two pairs of meaty fists reached for me and pried me out of the couch then bullied me up the stairs into the kitchen. Ryan led the way and Ninety-six followed to make sure I didn't try to escape.

  "Don't hurt him," Alexa shouted, trailing us up the stairs.

  I was surprised when the guys let up a bit at her insistence. Evidently Alexa had some pull with this crowd. But as they muscled me through the house toward the kitchen, I didn't fight back.
I didn't want to ruin Tara's party. And besides, I decided I could use a really bad haircut. I figured it might help me look less attractive to Samantha.

  Up in the kitchen, they shoved me into a wooden cane-back chair and held me down while Ryan searched the drawers for a pair of scissors. Automatically, I reached for the long blade which normally hangs from my belt, thinking it would do the job. But now that harpies weren't a huge concern anymore, the knife was no longer a part of my wardrobe. And about the same time that I came to this realization, Havoc stuck his head into the room. He frowned as he eyed the four football players then gave me a curious look. "Do you need any help here?"

  "Nay," I answered cheerfully. "Nay, the lads are just giving me a haircut."

  "If you're sure," Havoc said.

  "I'm good," I assured him. "Don't let me interrupt your game."

  As Havoc turned away Ryan approached with a pair of scissors, the metal blades glinting in his hand. "Ready for a haircut, Blondilocks?"

  I took a deep breath and lifted my chin. "Let's do it," I muttered.

  Roughly, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and cut it right down to the scalp. As a rain of golden strands fell to the floor, he reached for the next clump of tangled curls.

  "You're butchering it," Alexa screeched and made a grab for the scissors.

  But I waved her off. "Nay, butchered is good," I told her. "I'm going for a complete makeover, here."

  Grinning maliciously, Ryan reached for the next hank of hair and whacked it off.

  I set my mouth and waited it out while the pile of loose curls grew on the floor. Finally, Myerson stepped back, looking pleased with himself and wearing a mean smirk as he signaled his minions to let me go. A bunch of girls stood in the kitchen doorway with their mouths open so I guessed the haircut looked fairly bad.

  I scrubbed a hand through the short, ragged ends and smiled at Alexa. "What do you think?"

  She cleared her throat as she stared. "I actually think it looks better."

  The girls who were crammed in the doorway nodded. Their reaction was disappointing to me as well as the football team. They did not take the news well. In fact, they were enraged. "Bring me a razor," Ryan snarled.