It growled inside me. It wanted to be let loose in some form or another. The one it was hearing was as good as any. I felt hot and the restlessness had nothing to do with being bored. I found myself walking towards the hotel bar without thinking and started to steer myself away. I worked in one all day and here I was heading for another? God, I had to be crazy. But the voice growled again. I went back to my bike, thinking I’d take a ride, when I caught a whiff of Bulgari. Hmm, my favorite scent on a man. It seemed too familiar somehow, had an undercurrent of something… Ah ha! The guy Tammy had been laughing at, it was his. He’d followed me out here. I followed the trail while It rumbled around inside my head with anticipation. I bent over, getting lower, closer to the scent, tracking. “Prey,” I whispered to myself.
I stamped down hard and stood up abruptly, feeling totally schizophrenic. I counted to ten, breathing slowly. I started forward again, this time not doing my impression of a Navy SEAL. Walking past a dusty red pickup, I slammed my open palm into the hotel door the Bulgari trail ended at by way of knocking. I heard some hasty scrambling and rustling before the door opened as far as the chain would let it.
“What the—?” He was rubbing his jade eyes with the back of his hand, in a wife-beater and polka dot boxers. His hair was messed up and his lips were slightly parted. Nice full lips and broad, muscled shoulders. I shivered. My head filled with all sorts of things to do to lips like that, ways to make that muscle flex and bend the way I wanted. I shook it.
“Listen, lady, I think you got the…”
“You’re following me. Why?” I always ended up blunt when I couldn’t seem to think things through. I just wish I could blame it on the divergence in my career choices.
He looked at me like I was three kinds of crazy, shut the door and I thought that would be the end of things, but he took off the chain and came out to face me.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Some of the other hotel patrons shouted their thoughts about that question, but I ignored them. I could only focus on the better part of what was in front of me. I was staring directly at his chest and the voice was insistent on getting some of something tonight. If not the woods then it would settle for sweat-soaked sheets and leaving teeth marks on those perfectly shaped shoulders that were so very close.
I turned and tried to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist and spun me around to face him. The look in his eyes said he was pissed. I loved it. She loved it. He drew breath to speak again but he never got to. My mouth was on his before he could utter another sound. This close, the smell of soap, sweat and his heat filled my nostrils. I let it fill me. I growled softly. I watched his eyes and let him have my hand, but ran the other up his chest, over his shoulder and pulled his head down so I wasn’t up on tip toe. He relaxed into the kiss. My tongue started to trace his lips and he released my arm to cup my face, his other hand sliding around to my back. Yes, hissed the voice in the back of my head. It was as if someone had splashed cold water on me. I pulled away sharply. He looked as dazed as I felt.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I thought you were following me. I’m gonna go.” I turned around and sprinted to my room. I made it to my door, leaning my forehead against it, drawing slow deep breaths. I couldn’t hear anything above the pounding of blood. God, how could I have been so stupid? Don’t let it get control, don’t name it, don’t listen to it, YOU are commanding what does and does not happen in your own body! It tickled the back of my nerves, and I could suddenly feel the very wind as if it were stroking my skin in caress. The smell of the woods was so close, even the exhaust fumes couldn’t hide it. Then it snatched that scent away and replaced it with the Bulgari and him. I shook my head again, straining against the door when he was right behind me and I saw his hands rest themselves along the door frame on either side of me.
“Lady, you are one strange character.” His breath hovered above my skin, making my spine bow. “I might just start following you.”
Control, control, control. This is not you, this is not you. “Tammy’s Bar,” I spat at him. If I couldn’t back this off, maybe I could re-focus it.
“Tammy’s Bar.” And he drew out the mm’s so he hummed by my ear. My breath came sharp and I curled towards him.
“You were there.” I turned to face him. My pulse was in my throat again. Back off, I thought, but he did the opposite and closed the distance so he just lingered, not quite touching, above my skin.
“I was there,” he said with the same tone. The look in his eyes said he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he didn’t care, so long as he was there for the rest of the night.
“You followed me.”
“I’m going to Steamboat Springs. This is just about the last motel along the highway to stop if you want any sleep.” His gaze traveled over my forehead, examining my hair, going to my chin and finally back up to my eyes. I gave him points for not looking at my breasts. But his eyes had other things than sleep in them. “You being here is coincidence.” He closed the little distance to kiss me. It was just a quick brush, but my breathing stopped. “A very happy coincidence.” He smiled and my body trembled. “We’re both grown-ups. Not gonna hurt anyone if we just…”
I pulled myself up against him, my hands slid up to his shoulders, kneaded the breadth of them and he slid his palms over my back, pulled the keycard out of my back pocket and opened the door. I grasped his hand, turned around and was halfway to the bed when I felt the taser bite into my upper thigh.
She snarled and turned towards him in surprise. His eyes registered their own shock for a split second, then a second wave from the tazer hit me and I sunk like a rock in a lake. How did I miss this coming?
Chapter Four: Tammy
Tammy took a deep breath and started the walk up three flights of stairs. Her granny had taught her many a thing before she died, the least of which was not being afraid of the day. She couldn’t help worrying about Aislyn. She’d thought she’d have more time with the girl, get her to open up a bit, start telling her what it was that was chasing her so hard. Give her some real knowledge about what was riding her now. At least she’d seen to it Aislyn wouldn’t be alone. Though that boy was about as far as you could get from what Tammy would have picked out, if she’d had time. But he was the best she could do, because here the day up and arrived. You never could tell what fate would give you.
The stairwell in her building was locked, mostly to keep people out of her offices and away from the two apartments and one room she rented above. There was no elevator. The benefit to having security doors on the stairs was that it also kept them cleaner. Customers from the bar couldn’t enter and exit this way.
The tenants all had keys, as did her trusted employees, to the second floor. She could count on one hand the number of people who had keys to the third floor, and still have fingers left over. She should have been surprised by the fact that the door to the third floor was wide open, but she wasn’t. It was the day after all.
The light bulb had been broken and the glass splayed all over the floor, so her shoes crunched under her. She yelled, the sweat starting to drip down her back a little. Could turn back. Could just turn around and go back down those stairs and let the day pass by like any other. Could see Aislyn and the boy through the mess they were getting into.
You weren’t meant for dat, her grandmamma’s voice echoed through her. Sometimes we jus’ da ones dat set dem on de road. Dey got to walk it all by de lonesome.
“Hey! Who be up here? Why didn’t no one close this here door? What’s the matter with you all?” she yelled into the darkened hallway, her Mississippi drawl getting thicker in fear. The apartments were locked up tight, as they should be. Only Aislyn’s room was left. Her door would have looked closed in the dark, except the wind blew it open just a hair. Wind from nowhere. Right. Things were moving as they should be, and she knew where she should be going, but did they have to shove so hard?
Tammy pushed open the door and walked in. She looked at the girl’s stack
of books, piled up neatly next to the banker boxes she kept her clean clothes in. It was all covered by a cloth. Purple and girlie. Tammy chuckled to herself every time she saw it. Must have been part of the other Aislyn, the one the girl was always running from.
The Pepsi Center was having a game on tonight, so their lights shone bright across the way and threw a little enough in there to cause a shadow or two. She looked over at the girl’s mattress and pulled the sheets up, fluffing the pillow and getting the comforter out of the closet, putting in on for her. Might not be cold here in Denver, but the girl was gonna need some comfort. Tammy moved away so she wouldn’t get blood all over it.
One of the shadows detached itself from the wall and made its way to the door, closed it softly and walked up behind Tammy. She saw it all though her back was turned to it. She waited. It seemed in no mood or hurry to talk. Finally, she put her hands on her hips.
“Your girl ain’t here. She gone running from ya. And I don’t know where or when she be back, if ever. You got a mind to do what you gonna do, better do it fast. They waiting for me downstairs and gonna notice I be missing soon.” It still hesitated. “Well ain’t that something. Never thought you’d be a coward.” She heard a snarl and a flash, before she felt the first blow. She watched her own blood splatter in front of her and it was interesting, wondering if she could do a telling from the patterns. She turned as she fell from the second blow, put her hands up to block the third and fourth strikes. She looked into the crazed eyes and smiled. Seemed like it was driving it mad, that she wasn’t gonna scream. After, when it’d gotten its fill of the torture and no screams, it slashed her throat. She fell hard, and that would have rushed the air from her mouth, if her windpipe hadn’t been cut. She lay facing the door. As her blood started filling the cracks on the hardwood floor, she watched it walk away. Such a small body holding so much hatred. Aislyn and her boy better be up to that. Then her granny came and held her and she didn’t have to worry any more.
Chapter Five: Jackson
Jackson pulled into the barn on the ranch’s property and the headlights of his dusty red pick-up flashed over a thin little teen with Goth black hair, protruding collar bones and hollow eyes. The light sweater, jeans and blue T-shirt seemed to use the girl’s body like it was a hanger. Military-style boots peeked out from the turned-up ends of her pants. She looked like the Grim Reaper gone Emo. She waved him over to where she stood, next to a table with a knife, a black bowl of dark liquid something, a lit candle and cigar. He smiled grimly when he noticed the flare of embers at the end of the cigar. Burns always hurt.
He got out of the truck and roughly hauled the woman out, threw her over his shoulder and huffed over to the girl. She’d laid a woolen blanket on the floor next to a post, and motioned for him to put the woman there. He noticed a set of handcuffs and locked the woman up without being told. The way she’d snarled had set him in mind of one of the things he hunted, but that couldn’t be the case. She’d have been faster, meaner, stronger and more bloodthirsty than what she was. A tazer just wouldn’t have done it, not even twice. And he’d have been dead.
“Did she fight you?” The kid’s voice came out choked, like she was having a hard time. He hoped he didn’t just drag this woman here for nothing. He could have tortured her, gotten the kid her information on her brother’s case back East and been dumping the body by now. The woman was bad news; of that much he was sure.
“Naw, kid. A couple of tazer shots and she was out.”
“Couple?” The kid raised her eyes and pulled her sweater closer around her, backing away and bumping into the table. She scooped up some of the ash that had fallen off the cigar in her hands and looked at it.
“It's nothing to worry about. She’s just stronger than she looks is all. What you got set out there should be fine. I’ll help. We’ll find out what she knows about your brother.” He turned to put his hand on the kid’s shoulder and noticed a second blanket and cuffs set up on the other side of the room, exactly opposite of the woman. The sawdust on the floor seemed to be disturbed too, as if someone had drawn in it. He looked at the kid a split second before she blew the dust into his face.
“Cluddio.” Her eerie blue eyes flashed with unnatural light. He coughed and sputtered, fighting the spell as best he could, but he was doomed the moment he stepped inside the witch’s circle. It was the first rule that his father had ever brow-beat into him and his brothers about witches; never willingly enter their sacred space. It gives them complete control. If he lived through this, the others were never gonna let him live it down.
When he woke up, the kid was well into whatever ritual she had up her sleeve. She was walking the circle, sprinkling herbs and muttering in some language that he didn’t understand. His arms were above his head and he was half sitting up, his own weight making the cuffs cut into his wrists. He walked his ass back and glared across the room.
The woman was awake as well, and in just about the same position. The kid had stripped them both of their shirts, but the woman had lost her pants, probably because of the addition of chains at the ankles. Her mouth was gagged with a shiny black cloth. His was too, so he couldn’t even talk to her, calm her down to make up for getting her into this. There was a black symbol drawn on her forehead in whatever was in the bowl, and he felt one on his as well. Stupid. He shook his head and tested the cuffs. Then he tried the wood. It wasn’t rotted enough to pull away. He pushed up onto his knees and turned to face the horse stall he was cuffed to, looking for a weakness to get him loose.
“Stop that!” The kid came over and slapped his back hard, jumping quickly out of range again. It stung almost as much as his pride. He ignored it, or seemed to, and kept trying to pull loose, trying to draw the witch closer so he could kick or hit or disrupt her spell.
But the witch went back to the table and started chanting at the candle, using the knife to nick her wrist and let the blood mingle with whatever was in the bowl. The stuff on his forehead started to itch and the woman across the way screamed behind her gag. She looked at the kid like she knew what the witch was going to do, and hated her. He felt the same way. The kid went back to whispering, picking up the cigar.
Whatever power the kid was calling up, the weather was helping. Ozone filled the air up quick. A flash of lightning hit just outside the barn doors, illuminating everything inside clear as day. The kid’s shadow looked like a scarecrow but the woman’s shadow looked like a cat. A second strike and the woman screamed as if the lightning had hit her nerves. As he watched, the reason for the woman’s ankle chains became clear. Her skin shivered, like an ocean wave, and tawny fur rode the top, up to her face. One more flash of lighting and her teeth became fangs, her snout stretched and her pupils elongated and became thin slits that cut through the blue iris of her eye.
She screamed, rage in her face, or at least she tried to. Cougars couldn’t roar, but she sure gave her version. Her body arched as the kid looked on, rapt, captured almost, the smoking cigar in her hand seemingly forgotten. The cougar looked at the kid and hissed in hatred. Her body fought and bucked and the wave rolled across her body again, but the fur retreated back down, the face became normal, save for her very cat-like eyes. She turned them on the kid and smiled around the gag.
“NO! You have to Change! Don’t you understand? YOU HAVE TO!” The kid lost it, stomping around, and the lightning outside hit the roof. He smelled smoke and knew the old barn had caught. He tried to yell around the gag, but the kid didn’t seem interested in him anymore. He tried to kick the stall he was chained to. He pulled and yanked until he couldn’t see for the sweat running down into his eyes. Blood dripped off his hands, making them slippery. A witch and a Shifter. He was in it up to his eyeballs this time.
The woman began to scream, clear and loud. He turned just in time to get smacked with a shovel aside the head, stunning him long enough for the kid to pull off his gag and wrap the woman’s around his left wrist. She then pulled the cigar up to her lips. He watched the end
flare and blinked just before the smoke was blown into his eyes. He coughed and sputtered and gazed up at the kid through a haze that had blue edges to it. The girl smiled at him. She walked across the room to her other prisoner, seemingly unaware that there were now lit pieces of the barn falling all around her, and small fires burning in those stalls that had dried hay in them. She tied his gag to the woman’s left wrist and bent over the struggling, cursing woman.
The kid blew smoke into the woman’s face and chanted all the way back to the center of the circle. She picked up the bowl of liquid and offered it to the storm outside. A soft rain had begun to accompany the thunder and lightning but he had small hopes that it would put out the fire before at least two of them roasted. The kid put the cigar into the liquid in the bowl and whatever it was caught. The symbols flared and burned on their foreheads and both he and the woman couldn’t hold back screeching.
“Iallach a chur ar dhuine rud a dhéanamh,” the girl sang and lightning hit the center of the circle, then spread to hit both him and the woman. His body was raised off the ground two feet, every muscle stiff as a board. It felt like he was burning from the inside out, like his nerves were made of acid and caught on fire to boot. No sound could come out of his mouth. He felt, rather than saw that the woman, Aislyn, was in the same position. He had the sudden thought that she’d been running from this kid because this was the witch. He’d known that Aislyn was from the East Coast but now he knew she had loved swimming in the ocean, hiking along the rivers, had loved her small apartment in the old town boarding house. Aislyn had loved the smell of a bonfire on the beach with a guitar in her hand and friends gathered around her laughing. She had been so proud of her foster brother Mark when he had graduated and had made the whole family take the day off, closing the gas station/bus stop in their small town. She’d always been there for her foster mother, helping out in the small diner on her days off and in the evenings when she could. Felt how much she’d loved her small town. And it had been taken from her by the witch. He also knew she didn’t understand. She didn’t know what she was now, not truly. He felt something he never thought he would ever feel for a Shifter. Pity.
Even for Me Page 2
