Beauty is the Beast: Beasts Among Us - Book 1

by Jennifer Zamboni

  “Let’s go look at animals.” I slid my arm through his grip until his hand landed in mine.

  I was surprised how natural it was to do so. I hadn’t really felt anything either way towards him, except protective. Come to think of it, why did I feel protective? Why should I care if he wanted to be a wolf?

  Huh.

  “Okay. Where first?” Doug intensified his grip on my hand as if I were his lifeline.

  Perhaps I was. I didn’t know how much time he spent out in the normal world. This very well may have been the first festival he’d ever attended.

  “The sheep.” I tugged him in the direction of the sheep barn. I wanted to skip the whole rides thing as I tend to puke when spun.

  People gave us a wide berth, staring at Doug as we passed by. If only they knew it was me they should avoid. I smiled and pulled myself in closer to him, matching his stride. A woman of color and a hairy man—how shocking!

  Doug gave me a look and pulled away, just a little, so we were walking the way we had been before.

  “Do you need to make us more a spectacle than I already am?” he muttered at me.

  I was caught.

  “Sorry. I was just embracing the weirdness,” I muttered back, sniffing as a waft of fair food blew past.

  “Well, don’t.” He let go of my hand and sped up his pace, pulling ahead of me.

  “Sorry.” I caught up and tried to take his hand again.

  Again, he pulled away from me. I hadn’t realized how personally he took things. Or maybe I did. He was going to the extreme to get rid of what made him outwardly different from the rest of humanity.

  Of course, if he hung around the fair long enough, he was bound to run into some other woolly mammoth mountain men that tended to populate the state in the mid to northern regions. He wasn’t as abnormal as he thought. He just cared about it more. I mean, yeah, they didn’t grow hair down to their eyelids, but they got pretty freaking close.

  “Sheep barn’s over there.” I pointed.

  He glanced at me, then followed the line of my finger.

  Not thinking, I walked into the barn and right up to one of the pens.

  The giant rams sheltered there were climbing over one another trying to get away from me. Gee, was I popular. I seemed to have that effect on everyone and everything in the last few minutes. I backed away, bumping into Doug, who blocked my escape route.

  I turned so I could watch where I was going, not bothering with an apology. My plan was to wait at the entrance. It didn’t work. I was upwind to the sheep, and the entire barn blazed into a panic.

  I left the entrance and ran around the outside to the opposite end where I endured the mouthwatering scent of sheep, and they couldn’t smell me. I watched Doug squat down in front of the lamb pen, sticking in a couple fingers. He waited a moment or two and was rewarded when an especially curious black lamb with a white splotch on its forehead wandered over to take a nibble.

  A smile replaced his scowl, and he was, for the most part, left alone with the sheep he was making friends with. He wouldn’t be making friends with any animals if he was changed. He’d be a critter pariah like me.

  It was about 20 minutes before he made his way over to my side of creation, stopping at every pen to say hello.

  “Are you still mad at me?” I asked when he approached.

  “No.” He gave me a small smile.

  I nodded and offered my hand again, which he took. I would have to work on compromising a bit on things. He was shy, wanting to blend in. I was just so sick of hiding all the time. Not as much as Lacey-Marie, mind you, but I did have the distinct advantage of being able to go out in daylight.

  The cows were less concerned by my presence, and as long as I didn’t approach, they pretty much ignored me. For some reason, the cow barn was packed. There were people jostling us all around, and none gave Doug a second glance.

  He started to relax and enjoy himself.

  I did as well. The sheep were the only ones to have such an extreme reaction to me, and I knew better than to go anywhere near the horses. Horses are smart. They’d know exactly what I was. Most horses are not afraid of dogs. Most that I had encountered had wanted to squish me to a bloody pulp. If Doug wanted to get friendly with the ponies, he’d have to head in alone.

  “Feeling hungry yet?” I asked when another whiff of deep fried food wafted towards me.

  “Always.” Doug tugged me towards the good smells.

  I knew exactly what I wanted. There’s always a booth with spicy bratwursts on hot dog buns with nearly burnt onions and slathered with mustard, which were mouthwateringly divine.

  I was about to join the line and expose Doug to a whole new world of overpriced foods when someone knocked into the back of me, which in turn shoved me into Doug, who stumbled.

  I turned with a snarl and beheld Greg, the jackass who I’d kicked out of the salon a couple of weeks ago. I recognized his smell before I even got a lock on his face.

  He clutched a large woman in too-tight clothes around the waist, close to his side. I glanced at her three-inch roots exposed above the box blond, and my snarl intensified. I hate bad hair.

  “Hey look, babe, the freak’s gone and got the ugliest fuck that would have her.” Greg threw his head back and laughed.

  My bones cracked, and my face began to warp. Yet another pair of contacts down the drain. This just wasn’t my month.

  It took every bit of not inconsiderable muscle that Doug possessed to pull me back. He grabbed me by the shoulders and looked right into the amber of my eyes as he spoke softly to me.

  “Easy, Gretchen. He’s not worth ripping to shreds. You’ve got other fish to fry.” His hands slid up from my shoulder to caress either side of my face, forcing me to look back into his.

  Greg leaned in our direction. “Don’t go breedin’ and make more of ya.”

  Doug’s expression was forced into relaxation, but I could see his muscles twitch as Greg the lummox grabbed him from behind.

  “Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya, dickwad.”

  Doug ignored him, keeping me focused on him and trying to get me to relax.

  The stench of a group of people stopping to gawk surged my adrenaline. I had to get ahold of myself. I sucked in deep, slow breaths, imitating Doug’s, closing my eyes and paying only attention to his thumbs sweeping gently along my cheeks.

  Another presence entered the gathering rabble.

  “Watch your mouth.” Hades’ words were full of angry authority. I could feel his glamour drop. Once again, he was drawing the attention off of me by exposing himself.

  Doug moved his hands into my hair and pulled my face down to his shoulder, so that all I could smell was him, then wrapped his arms around me.

  “There are children present,” Hades added. “If you’re going to make a scene, do it somewhere besides a place full of families.”

  People started moving, and the scent of Greg and his trash blew away. How Hades knew he was needed, I’ll never know.

  I remained wrapped up in Doug until he pulled away.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, studying my eyes.

  I reached up and plucked out my ruined contacts, letting them fall to the dirt. I nodded.

  “Good, let’s get some food in you. The line’s gone.” He kept an arm around my shoulders as we approached the booth.

  “I take it you had some history with that jerk?” the vendor asked.

  “Yeah,” I said with a sigh.

  “Well, I just thought I’d let you know that he’s the freak, not you. What can I get for you folks today?” he asked, leaning his bulk over the counter.

  “Two extra spicy brats,” I said, surprising myself with how normal my voice sounded.

  It was a good thing the moon was on her way out, or things might not have turned out so well.

  “Good choice. I just put some on the grill a few minutes ago.” He picked up two sizzling sausages and placed them in lightly toasted buns. “They’re on the house.” He
held up his hands when I offered up the cash. “And tell the big scary guy he gets one too.”

  “Thanks!” I gave him a genuine smile.

  “Yes, thank you,” Doug repeated, then squirted mustard onto our sausages.

  We found a grassy spot out of the way of the general flow of traffic and enjoyed our meal. It was nice, sitting there basking in the afternoon sun and watching all the different people pass by. We sat with our legs outstretched, paper plates balanced on our knees, arms propped back for support, close enough to lean against one another.

  I wondered if turning Doug into a wolf would ruin his effect on me. What kind of wolf would he be? A submissive? I couldn’t imagine so. There were definitely moments that belonged to a more dominant personality.

  Why was I even considering it? I was dead set against changing Doug. Wasn’t I? I felt safe with him, but as long as he remained human, we could never have any sort of romantic relationship. I found myself wanting that from him. I’d gotten so used to having him around, I didn’t particularly want him to leave.

  “Do you have to leave to go help your band pack up?” Doug asked, his tone mellow.

  I shook my head. “Nope. We finished last night and parked the van in Austin’s garage so nothing would get stolen. They’ll stick the instruments in just before they leave. We’re meeting up here.”

  “Good. I’m having fun.”

  Fun, seriously? It was fun keeping me from going psycho in public?

  “You’re awfully quiet,” he commented, sitting so still it was if he were a piece of furniture instead of an actual person.

  “I’m relaxed.” I tilted my face towards the sun, reveling in the warmth spreading over me.

  “Well, that’s good. Are you ready to get up and look around some more?”

  I was growing fond of his soft French accent.

  “Did you grow up in the circus?” I asked, not quite ready to give up my spot.

  “Yes, not Treats and Freaks, but in circuses. Both my parents were, um, hairy people, or so my mother tells me. My father didn’t stick around.”

  “Do you talk to her often?”

  He’d have a hard time keeping in contact with her if he was changed. The differences are too obvious to someone who knows you well.

  “Not really. We’re both on the road. She’ll send a postcard occasionally, but that’s mostly it.”

  Doug got to his feet and offered me his hand, which I took, letting him pull me up.

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “Really old.” I dusted off the seat of my jeans, then wandered over to one of the many trash bins to deposit my plate.

  “No, really. How old?” he tried again.

  I started walking away. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Yes, I do.” He rested a hand on my forearm, stopping me.

  “One hundred and eighty something. I think.” I was a little fuzzy on the dates.

  “Wow. You are old.” His voice held a joke, but I didn’t laugh. “Are you sure you’re all right?” He sped up to keep pace with me.

  “I’m fine. Let’s go look at the crafts.”

  We spent a lot of time in the rustic barn-like building displaying paintings, drawings, and photographs. Some were beautiful. Some were obviously done by children. Many had ribbons hanging off of their frames.

  There was one in particular that stuck out to me. A close up of a wolf’s face, its eyes appearing almost human. The tag underneath revealed that it was painted by a 16-year-old boy named Jason. I don’t think it was meant to look like a werewolf. Those were probably just the kind of eyes he knew how to do. I found myself thinking it was too bad the painting wasn’t for sale. I would have bought it.

  As soon as we made it back outside, my hackles rose.

  There, waiting in a group for me, was the pack. Could a girl catch a break? Was this entirely necessary?

  “Good afternoon, Gretchen. We heard your band was performing tonight, so we’re here to show our support,” Kaine said as soon as he spotted me. He looked out of his element dressed in jeans and a t-shirt instead of his button-down and jacket.

  “Kaine.” I tried not to let displeasure color my voice as I stood my ground.

  “And this must be the human.” Kaine turned to my friend, casting a critical eye over him, a sneer lifting one corner of his lip. “Doug, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “You’re not.” Doug tightened his grip on my hand, though the rest of his body remained relaxed.

  Neither of them held out a hand in greeting, which was just as well as Kaine would have turned it into a dominance contest that Doug couldn’t have won.

  “We’re meeting up with friends. Enjoy the show.” I squeezed Doug’s hand in return and started to walk away.

  Kaine’s hand flew forward, hitting my shoulder. I hadn’t realized he was that close. I should have been paying closer attention.

  “You are not my alpha. Now excuse us. We have somewhere to be.” I stepped around him and pulled Doug with me.

  “Not yet,” I heard Kaine say.

  I didn’t stay to hear what he’d follow that up with. We’d agreed to meet Percy and Hades, and we were running late. Then something occurred to me. I turned back to the pack.

  “Who told you where I was?” I certainly hadn’t mentioned my gig to them.

  “The perky dead girl. I called your cell, and she answered.” Kaine smiled at me, more aggressive than happy.

  Damn that girl. She had no right to answer my phone. Especially when I had left it in my room.

  “Come on.” I kept my grip on Doug’s hand, keeping myself from submitting to my wolf. “Remind me again why I’m friends with her?” I muttered to him as we walked away.

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

  I took it little, blonde, and flirty wasn’t his type.

  We found a spot on the bleachers downwind from the gathering draft horses and close enough to the way out that I could beat a hasty exit if the breeze changed.

  Percy and Hades were early as well. We moved from our spot to join them, still downwind but not as close to an escape route.

  “Thanks,” I said to Hades as soon as my butt hit the bench.

  “No problem. It’s amazing people like that make it through high school.”

  Now what did Hades know about high school?

  “No kidding,” I said. “Oh, the brat vendor says you’re welcome to a freebie. He was pretty in awe of you.”

  “At least someone is. I seem to be losing my touch with you ladies,” said Hades, only half joking if his scent was anything to be trusted.

  “Aw, come on, Hades, we’re all in terrible fear and awe of you,” I said, somewhat more brightly than I felt. In fact, it was downright out of character.

  Hades raised a dark eyebrow.

  We turned our attention to the team of Belgians pulling a sled full of cement blocks, their muscles straining against the straps of their harnesses, moving the sled forward. The momentum of the startup allowed them to ease up only a little as they worked in perfect harmony with their driver, a straight up old New England farmer complete with overalls. They made good time around the edge of the arena, managing not to knock over any of the orange cones that were arranged in a pattern.

  I happen to like watching things like that. I wondered if I could pull the load. I wasn’t about to go out and try, but that didn’t stop the wheels from turning.

  We watched the entire competition, which was won by another pair of Belgian geldings, a strawberry roan, and a bright chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail. I like horses. They just don’t like me, so I deal and just watch from a distance.

  The sun was sitting low in the sky when Doug and I made it to the back entrance of the fairgrounds to meet up with the guys. Austin’s white van was already parked with the back and side doors open.

  Not thinking, I grabbed a huge amp and lifted it, instead of pushing it on its little wiggly wheels like I should have done to avoid suspicion. I was thinking
of not getting grass and dirt stuck in there. Doug saved me by running around the other end and shoving down.

  “Let me help you with that,” he said.

  “I’ve got it. Thanks for the reminder, though. Could you get my duffel? It’s the green one.” I jerked my head back towards the van, where my duffel of equipment waited.

  “Sure, of course.” He left me to retrieve it.

  The white gazebo we would be playing in was empty of all but the sound guy. We’d managed to wrangle the tech from Club North to do sound for us, being that he had a night free. He nodded at me in greeting, mostly focused on checking all his buttons and switches.

  The guys followed me quickly. And they had help.

  The pack was carrying the less expensive equipment, and some of Austin’s drums, while the guys carried their more treasured toys. I really didn’t like them getting so chummy with my friends. I could feel the subtle threat in the action.

  Mark’s fire-engine-red mohawk dazzled with a fresh coat of color and razored sides. I was pretty happy with how the color was lasting this time around. It had been through several days, and hopefully several washings. Red tends to run away screaming, unless of course you don’t want it, then it flat out refuses to go. Mark was in charge of his own razor blades, probably a daily process for him.

  Austin’s head was freshly buzzed down to a quarter inch, while Scott’s had grown out to about a quarter as well.

  Aw, they were twinsies. How precious.

  I eyed Kaine and his lackeys and managed to keep my mouth shut.

  “We wrangled in some volunteers. If you just go get Lola, we’ll be just about set.” Mark set his guitar down on the white painted board floor of the gazebo.

  “Great,” I said, trying to sound truthful.

  I grabbed Doug’s hand and headed for Percy’s car.

  “Are they dating?” Austin asked Scott innocently.

  I didn’t hear the reply as I hurried to get out of hearing distance. Such a conversation could get very interesting, I’d wager, but not so interesting that I wanted any part of it.

  The sent of wolf hit me with a breeze. I turned, but couldn’t see him. It was the one they’d made their emissary, Quintavious. The pack appeared to be especially interested in Doug. Had the alpha sent them to watch us?