by S Bolanos
We walked a little farther in quiet, turning to continue our way behind another strip of mechanics supporting the small carnival rides.
“You know, I’ve actually liked you for a while, Sara,” Michael said, breaking the silence.
I looked up at him. “You may have mentioned something to that effect. Though I’m not sure how much I believe it.”
“Believe it,” he said with a squeeze for added emphasis.
“Then why didn’t you do anything about it before?”
His face fell. “My life is complicated.”
“So you said. But so is mine,” I countered.
Sorrow clouded his features. “There are rules I have to live by. Rules that mean I have to be very careful with who I get involved with.”
“So, what you’re saying is that all of the rumors about you sleeping with half the office aren’t true and you’re not an incorrigible flirt,” I teased.
He laughed. “The flirt part may be true, though mostly unintentional.”
“Sure it is,” I poked.
“But the other is purely fabricated. I’ve had partners, but not nearly as many as everyone wants to believe. Truthfully, before all of this, it’d been longer than I care to admit,” he said, guiding us around a generator.
I snorted.
“Seriously. I know that the whole were thing kind of forced us together, but I wanted to get closer to you. I went through all kinds of scenarios, including accidentally knocking down your lunch, so I’d have to take you out to make it up to you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. The idea of Michael having to stoop to such a juvenile meet-cute was preposterous.
“You laugh, but that was an actual plan at one point. There was even a time when I was afraid you and Bob were a thing.” He shuddered. “That was awful.” I gave him a scornful look and he reached his free hand up to stroke my cheek. “You're a very private person, Sara. I wanted a chance to get to know you. I had this feeling that you were worth getting to know.”
My face warmed beneath his touch. Instead of commenting on the blatant blush, he planted a soft kiss on my nose and gave me an unexpected twirl. Laughter bubbled up and I did another spin on my own. When I stopped, his eyes widened with surprise. He shoved me hard and I stumbled a few paces.
I regained my bearings right as a metallic bang shook the immediate area. A high-pitched squeal of white noise split the air and the world vibrated in time with the deafening sound puncturing my ears. To my surprise, no one rushed to investigate.
I blinked repeatedly and covered my ears to muffle the persistent sound. Without the ringing, my vision finally focused on the scene before me. Michael lay atop a heap of twisted metal, all that remained of a generator. As if the sight of viciously sharp metal curled around him wasn’t terrifying enough, a horrifying creature, straight out of a nightmare perched on his chest. Then the smell hit me.
The twisted scent of wrongness clogged my senses. Nails screeched on metal and Michael cried out. The familiar clench started in my middle. I restrained it, but didn’t try to shove it off as I ate up the ground separating us. When I landed on top of the were, my nails were sharp enough to pierce skin. I willed them longer and used my momentum to roll us away. I released him mid roll and sprung to a crouch.
Blood poured down from the mutt’s shoulders. His face was such a mess of contortions I couldn’t even distinguish his eyes. Nothing about him was natural for a were or a human. He moved as if to renew his assault on Michael and I maneuvered to stay between them.
Pain lanced through my jaw as it shifted to make room for teeth not intended for a human mouth. He took another step forward. I flexed my claws and growled, showing more than enough teeth to back up my threat. Uncertainty flashed across his misshapen face. I lowered the growl another octave and shifted my weight, ready to lunge.
He gave a final glance toward Michael, then with a snarl, the mutt turned and vanished. I waited a couple of tense seconds, scanning the area to make sure he was truly gone, before racing to Michael’s side.
Blood coated everything. It flowed freely to saturate what remained of Michael’s clothes and dripped with abandon onto the dead grass. I reached out to try and staunch the wound. That’s when I remembered my hands weren’t exactly hands. I glanced around in alarm and thankfully found not a soul in sight.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Calming my body wasn’t easy with so much adrenaline rocketing through it, but with a couple steadying breaths, I could feel my claws shorten. Another deep breath.
Don’t retch.
My fingers shrunk to normal length. Another deep breath. My jaw popped painfully and I tasted the metallic tang of blood. I spit it out with lips that felt human enough.
I took one last look at Michael and ran. Maybe it wasn’t right to leave him vulnerable, but he needed help and I couldn’t give it to him. I needed to find David.
Clouds of dust wafted up around me as I skidded onto the main track of the fair. All I could do was pray that I looked mostly human. Smells wove like braids amidst the stalls of games and fair food, the scents of the carnival we’d jokingly commented on, now nauseatingly clear.
I spun around in search of a heading, becoming more agitated with each pass. How was I supposed to find anyone in this chaos? Then a familiar scent caught my attention. The unique mix of spices and baking stood out like a breath of fresh air against the stink of sweat and fumes. It wasn’t much of a leap to pick out David’s which seemed to swirl around hers and had a distinct were-ness to it.
I dove into the crowd, swerving around people as I raced along the trail. It was beginning to feel as though they had crisscrossed the whole fair when I finally caught sight of them. They turned to look at me, smiles on their faces, when I skidded to a breathless stop.
“Well, what?” Charline’s sharp tone snapped me back to reality.
“Michael needs help.”
“Where?” David asked. No other questions.
“This way.”
We cut straight across the fair, barely excusing ourselves as we forced people out of our way. I didn’t have the patience to be polite, all I could see was red-tinted metal shining in the afternoon sun.
“Oh my God,” Charline gasped when we emerged behind the tents. I'd hoped that he would’ve healed more, but it would take more than a few minutes of super healing for the gash showing bone in his shoulder to seal up. If anything, he looked worse. Rips covered his clothes and flesh without distinction.
My mind flashed to teeth cutting through my arm while a street light flickered. I shook my head. I didn’t have time for that.
“Charline, get some water and towels,” David ordered. “Sara, come over here and give me a hand.”
Charline barely hesitated before spinning on her heel to pursue her task. I, on the other hand, approached with caution.
Explanations of what happened spilled from my lips. “I don’t know how we didn’t smell him. I know Charline said to meet you guys, but we were talking and sort of wandered off. One minute everything was fine and we were laughing, then there was a horrible noise. My ears still hurt. I didn’t check to see if he was breathing. The mutt left, but I don’t know where he went. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do. I know it was dangerous to leave him, but…”
“Sara.” David’s firm tone immediately ebbed the flow. “This wasn’t your fault. We knew this could happen. In fact, we were planning on it. We shouldn’t have split up, that’s on us.” He indicated the severely injured Michael and himself. “Help me get him up. We should be able to get to the cars through there.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “Will I develop a sixth sense to know where the car is? Because that could come in handy.”
“Not quite. I noticed this line of trees and more specifically, those stalls, when we got here,” David said, matter of fact.
I narrowed my eyes.
“It’s my job to pay attention. You didn’t think he wanted me here so I could keep your
lovely friend company, did you?”
Thoroughly chastised, I moved to help.
We carefully maneuvered Michael into a seated position. An awful squelch filled the air as we pulled him free of the devastated generator. I forced the bile in my stomach back down and envied David his calm.
“There you are, Charline. Good, you found some towels. Let’s clean him up a bit, maybe we can attract a little less notice. We’ll stick to the trees just in case. Can you grab my truck and pull it up right there? It’s a white pickup,” he elaborated as he pointed over to where the trees and the stalls abruptly ended.
The distance yawned before me.
How are we going to get him all the way to the car without anyone noticing?
Charline accepted the keys and immediately began running towards the parking lot. While she was definitely pale, she too was exceptionally calm. I glanced over at David and the resolute set of his mouth.
Why am I the only one freaking out?
We were almost to the edge when Charline pulled up in a large white pickup, the tires squealing to a stop. David did a thorough sweep of the area for any potential witnesses, then we began the arduous process of getting him in the truck. Michael let out an agonized moan as we situated him in the passenger seat and strapped him in so he wouldn’t fall over.
Charline hopped out and grabbed my arm. “Come on, Sara. We’ll follow in your car.” David shot her a look. “It’s not far. You should be able to keep an eye on us from the cab.” David gave the tiniest of nods and let her pull me away. She guided us over to my car and made sure that I was buckled before tearing off after the truck.
20
Survival Instincts
“Do you think he’s okay?” I asked as we stopped at yet another red light.
Charline glanced at me. “I’m sure he’s gonna be fine, sugar.” The heavy dose of Southern did nothing for my anxiety.
“There was so much blood. How can there be that much blood in one person?” The distinct image of metal dripping crimson dominated my vision. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the gory vision remained.
“We’re almost there,” she said, rather than address my concern. My vision cleared enough to recognize we were entering Michael’s neighborhood, then fuzzed back into smears of gray and green.
“Do you think he’s awake yet?” I asked in a near whisper.
“I don’t know about that, but he’s not in the truck anymore.”
“What?” I turned my attention to the white—empty—pickup parked beside us. My fingers fumbled at the seat belt determined to hold me captive. I pulled relentlessly at the clip with no success.
How is it I can destroy a dash with my bare hands, but I can’t get out of a fucking seatbelt?
“Get me out of this thing,” I growled.
“Take it easy. Let me help.” She reached over and the belt clicked.
I launched out the door before the strap was completely clear. Drops of red staining the concrete caught my attention and I sprinted the rest of the way to the door. It opened without resistance to an empty living room. My ear twitched as it caught the sound of a faint groan and my stomach twisted itself into knots.
Please be okay.
I made my way with halting steps down the hall to the main bedroom. The door stood open, offering a clear view of David helping Michael into the bed. Michael might have been awake, but he looked awful. I was amazed that David had managed to bring him inside by himself.
“Do you think he’ll be alright?” I asked in a whisper as I tiptoed into the room wary of making too much noise.
“I’m trying to get him settled without making any of the wounds worse,” David responded as he adjusted another pillow.
“I’ll be fine. Stop treating me like a baby,” Michael retorted, smacking away David’s helping hand, then violently shook with a series of coughs.
“You look pretty bad,” David said. “And sound worse. It’s going to take a while to get back up to speed after a fight like that.”
“Do werewolf scratches take longer to heal?” Charline asked as she set down several waters.
David ran a hand through his hair as he straightened. “Yes and no. Were on were is one of the most brutal assaults that we can endure. Whether that’s because of some were gene that makes the attacks more lethal or simply because the attacks are more lethal is a toss-up.” He looked over at me. “You’ve seen how rapidly we can heal and how that healing can save someone, but it isn’t a cure-all.”
I looked away. Fingers brushed my wrist and my attention instantly refocused on Michael. “What is it, do you need something to drink?” I asked, already reaching for a glass.
“You changed.” His face took on an absent expression. “You controlled your change,” he elaborated, ignoring the proffered water. “You fought him off. I was blindsided. He came from upwind. But you…you stopped him.” A hint of awe touched his voice.
“I…it…I didn’t know what else to do,” I floundered.
“I’m so proud of you.”
“What?” I asked at the unexpected praise.
Michael lunged forward to grab me. The air went out in a whoosh and by some miracle the glass I held didn’t shatter on the floor. As abruptly as the hug started, he was being pulled away. “Ow. Get off of me. I can hug her if I want. Stop mothering me,” Michael said as he fought with David.
“How long do you think it will take him to get back on his feet?” Charline asked.
“I’m right here,” Michael griped. She patted his arm absently.
“He should be able to return to work in a couple of days, but I wouldn’t push it. From what I can tell, most of the gashes are pretty deep. He needs rest.”
“I’ll be fine,” Michael insisted.
“I’m going to drive Charline home,” David declared. “I’ll be back in a little while. You two try to get some sleep. I won’t be long.” He spared us each a look before leaving.
The moment the two were gone, Michael’s mask of bravado fell. His breathing became more labored as his body struggled to heal wounds that would’ve killed anyone else. He lay unmoving as if all the fight had gone out of him and in an awful twist, I knew exactly what he was feeling. I was intimately familiar with this kind of agony.
“You can stop staring,” he coughed. “I can practically hear you worrying.”
“Michael, you shouldn’t talk.” He shifted and I caught the pained groan he tried to suppress. I placed a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. “You got knocked harder than I thought if you think I’m going to let you out of bed.”
“Ouch, I don’t know what hurts more, my shoulder or my pride.”
“Don’t be a baby, I didn’t press that hard.” I pulled up an armchair and brushed his hair back from his sweat drenched forehead. “Be honest. How do you feel?”
He gave a strained chuckle. “Kind of like I was attacked by a homicidal werewolf.”
I flicked his forehead.
“Ow. Have you no sympathy?”
I narrowed my eyes at him and he let out a shallow sigh.
“Fine. In all seriousness, I hurt like hell. That mutt really did a number on me. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m going to have to call in tomorrow. And before you suggest it, you're not, you’ve already missed too much. Besides, what would the office gossips say if we both missed a day?” He winked and then winced.
“Considering one of the biggest office gossips already knows the truth, I’m not really all that concerned. Besides, I doubt anyone would make the connection that the two of us might be playing hooky together.”
“Why do you do that?” He reached out, but stopped.
“What do you mean?”
“You assume that no one would put the two of us together. Why?”
“We’ve been through this. You’re you and I’m…me.” I failed to see why that was so hard for him to understand.
“What does that mean? Sara, you’re amazing—before the bite and after. Why can’t
you see that?” His gaze clouded with concerned confusion and probably a concussion.
“Because there’s nothing to see,” I said, anger flashing through me. It was a fact, it had always been a fact. He was the guy always at the center, the one everyone saw, the one everyone always wanted to be, and I was wallpaper, never noticed, never missed. I was just me, just Sara.
“That’s not true. You’ve got to stop belittling yourself. Why can’t you see the person I see, the person everyone sees?” He attempted to roll on his side and cried out.
“Stop moving,” I insisted. “This conversation can wait.”
“No. Not until you listen. You’re an incredible person. You’re full of life, and curiosity, and a passion that I nearly forgot.”
I shook my head. “That’s the wolf, it’s not me.”
“For the love of the moon, you can’t keep blaming the wolf! It doesn’t change who you are.”
“Except I wasn’t any of those things before I was bitten,” I countered, my anger spiking again. “Can we have this argument when you’re feeling better?”
“Why can’t you believe that you’re special? There’s a fire in you, and the only one trying to put it out is you.”
“That’s not true.” My lips pressed into a thin line. Somehow hearing someone say it out loud was so much worse than only feeling it inside.
“Yes, it is.”
“Stop. Michael, please just stop,” I begged, but my pleas went unheard.
“It’s a terrible thing to say, but sometimes I’m grateful I got the call to hunt down this mutt. You saved my life, and I’m not just talking about today. Yes, I know I’ve found my way to the heart of office gossip as a flirt and who knows what else, but I’ve never been with someone who made my breath catch like you do. I’d do anything to keep you safe, even risk—”
“Michael, stop. This isn’t the time for this. You need to rest. You need to…” The tears welling in my eyes were quickly joined by a lump in my throat that silenced me.
“I can’t pretend anymore. Stars know I’ll pay for that, but I can’t.”
