by Laura Del
I shook my head. “Nice save.”
He sighed. “This is taking too long.” Before I could ask what he meant, he picked me up, running me to my apartment building.
When he set me down everything started to go topsy-turvy, and the nausea came back. “Why did you have to do that? I think I’m going to be sick.” I leaned against the rail, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath.
“I do apologize, Patricia,” he said from behind me. “I did not think that you would get so ill.”
The world stopped being wonky and I turned on him. “Don’t ever do that again,” I hissed. “Ever.”
“I promise.”
“Your promises mean nothing to me. You know that, right?”
He nodded. “I am well aware, but I do mean it. I will not do that again.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Okay,” I let the word out slowly. “Good night, Samuel.”
“Good night, Patricia,” he said, bowing his head. “Pleasant dreams.”
I took out my keys, walking inside, and when I was finally in the apartment, Mike was nowhere to be found. “Great,” I huffed, throwing my bag on the desk. I took my cell out of my purse, and tried to get him. But his phone just went to voicemail.
I sighed. “Hey, Wolf, it’s me. I just wanted to tell you that I’m home safe and sound. Call me back. Bye.” When I hung up, I placed my phone on the coffee table and proceeded to get ready for bed.
After I was done with my nice, hot shower, I decided that would start on another article that Joey (my New York editor) had given me. It was something really easy, so I didn’t need to do much. And by the time I was done, it was almost eleven o’clock at night.
“Where is he?” I asked myself, and just as I was about to leave the apartment to go look for him, Mike banged through the door.
“Hey,” he slurred. “Patty. You’re here. I went out lookin’ for ya.” He stumbled inside, slamming the door behind him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The werewolf was drunk. And to top it all off, his face looked like someone had taken a crowbar to it.
“What the hell happened?” I asked, gently holding his chin so I could get a good look at his swollen eye and bloodied nose and mouth.
He took my hand from his face, holding it to him. “Angel got mad wif me, and punched me in da face.”
“How much did you drink?”
He looked off into the distance. “Five…no…six.”
“Glasses?”
“Bottles.”
My mouth dropped open. “Bottles? Of what?”
“Whiskey,” he giggled like a little girl.
“Okay. I’m going to go make you some coffee.”
“No,” he blurted, not letting go of my hand. “I don’t want no coffee.” He pulled me to him, giving me a sloppy kiss. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”
Great, he was a crying drunk. “It’s all right, I forgive you.”
He nodded, slowing blinking the tears out of his eyes. “Goods.”
When he finally let go of my hand, he took off his jacket and his shirt at the same time, and as I started to walk into the kitchen to make him some desperately-needed caffeine, he grabbed me from behind. “You smells good,” he slurred in my ear.
“Thank you,” I said, pushing his arms off me. “I’ll be right back with your coffee.”
“I said no coffee,” he yelled, and I shushed him. The walls were paper thin, and I didn’t want the cops being called. That was all I needed, to bail out a drunk and disorderly werewolf.
“Okay,” I whispered, “just keep your voice down.”
He nodded, grabbing me again. But this time he pushed me down into the couch. “I wanna makes love to ya,” he said in a harsh whisper.
I laid there trying to keep a straight face as he fumbled with his pants. He was making his best effort to take them off over his shoes. “Mike,” I managed to say without laughing, “you need some sleep.”
“No,” he yelled again, and I hushed him. “I want ya and I’m gonna have ya.”
I shook my head, sitting up while I watched him undress himself. There was no arguing with him, so I just let him do his thing.
Besides, I needed a good laugh.
chapter
EIGHTEEN
Stage Four: Depression
After Mr. “I’m gonna have ya” passed out before he could “makes love” to me, I had to drag his ass into the bedroom using all of my—and the baby’s—strength. Once he was snuggly tucked in, I just sat there thinking about how hard I had tried to be brave throughout this whole thing, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. Suddenly, I knew it was time to cry.
I cried so hard that it was almost three in the morning before I put my head to my pillow. And when I woke up only four hours later, I was still crying. By nine o’clock I was all cried out, and I figured I might as well make myself feel better. So I took my frustration out on Mike.
“Morning,” I screamed him awake, and he jerked upright.
“Oh,” he whined, “my head. I feel like someone put my brain in a blender.”
“Really?” I asked as loudly. “Well, you did have six bottles of whiskey, and you were pretty drunk last night.”
“Why are you yellin’?” he whispered, placing his hands over his ears. His face had pretty much gone back to normal, except for the slight bruising under his left eye.
“Because,” I said in a normal tone of voice, “it makes me feel better.”
“What happened last night?” He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You came in here with your face all bloodied up, and then you wanted to have sex with me.”
“Did we?”
“No,” I answered bluntly. “You passed out on top of me before we could.”
He closed his eyes. “Sorry about that.”
“You seem to be saying that a lot lately,” I muttered, and then got up to get him some coffee. I got myself some more bacon—I had somehow eaten a whole pack of it in less than an hour—and then walked back into the bedroom with Mike’s mug.
As I handed it to him, he squinted the entire time. And when he finally took a sip, he smiled at me.
“Don’t give me that look.” I told him, and he frowned. “Why did Angel hit you last night?”
He blinked, placing the mug on the small bedside table. “I don’t remember.”
I knew he was lying to me, and I shrugged. “All right, I’ll just call Angel and ask—”
He caught my arm before I could turn to get my cell. “Fine,” he breathed. “I’ll tell ya.” I sat on the bed, waiting for an explanation.
After a minute, he took a deep breath, looking into my eyes. “But before I tell ya, I want you to know that I was really drunk when I said it. That’s not an excuse, just a fact.” He paused, and I nodded. “Okay…I said that I wished Samuel would’ve killed you when he had the chance.”
My mouth dropped open, and I could feel tears begin to form in my eyes again. But I blinked them back. I would not cry. I will not cry! “Well,” I said, my voice coming out almost choked, “if I were there, I would have hit you, too.” I got up off the bed not looking at him. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Bébé…”
I could hear the sadness in his voice, but I was too busy trying to straighten the sheet on the bed with one hand to look at his face. “So whatever I want to make is okay, right?” I asked, and then answered myself, “Good. I’ll go do that.”
As I walked out into the living room, I knew that he had followed me, but I still didn’t want to turn around and look at him. He had hurt me again, but this time it was worse. So much worse.
“Pat,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean it. You know that, right?”
I shook my head, finally turning around. “No, I don’t know that. You have been acting so strange lat
ely that I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“I’ve just been so angry. I just can’t seem to handle that you’re gonna leave me.”
“You’ve been angry?” I yelled. “I am the one who’s going to die. I have been angry and depressed ever since I learned that it was going to happen. This morning I was so upset that I cried for hours on end.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t know. Why did ya keep this to yourself?”
“I thought I could handle it. Why did you keep your anger to yourself?”
“I thought I could handle it.”
“Well, you know what thought did.”
He grimaced, shaking his head again. “Never heard that one.”
“Thought thought he had to fart and took a shit instead.” I repeated the verbatim—my father’s favorite saying—and it made Mike smile.
“I like it,” he laughed a little. “I gotta remember that one.” Then he sighed. “God, what a pair we make, huh?”
“The couple that doesn’t discuss their feelings with each other,” I mused. “Some people would die for this kind of relationship.”
“Some people have.”
We both genuinely laughed for the first time in days. Then, as Mike walked closer to me, my smile vanished. That’s when my lower lip quivered and I started to cry again.
“I miss the days when I was an emotionless wreck. This crying thing is for the birds,” I managed to say through sobs.
Mike laughed a little then held me, whispering, “Let it out, Pat. Let it go. You’ve been strong for too long, bébé. Just let it go.”
And I did. I let it all go. Pain, sadness, and frustration poured out of me until I could no longer feel anything, and then I just stayed in his arms, holding onto him as tightly as I could. I wanted to stay in the moment for as long as possible, but I knew it would have to end sooner than either one of us wanted, and had ever expected.
An hour later, I was lying on top of Mike on the couch. And as he rubbed my back under my shirt, I sighed, which made him stop. “You okay?”
“Yes,” I answered, looking up into his eyes. “I just have to tell you something, and I’m not sure how you’re going to react.”
He looked down his nose at me, making his eyes go cross. “You can tell me anythin’.”
I sat up, and he did the same. “Now, don’t get upset, but I may have made a temporary truce with Samuel.”
“What?” he yelled at me.
“I know. But he wanted to help, and it’s better if we have him on our side than to have him join forces with Elliot.”
“I guess you’re right,” he said through his teeth.
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”
“Should I sound anythin’ other than skeptical?”
I shook my head. “No, but he did save me from being killed.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“When I was in the woods, Herb found me and tried to kill me. Apparently he was hungry.”
He closed his eyes, hanging his head. “He should have told me.”
“My reaction exactly. However, according to Samuel, he goes without ‘eating’ for weeks at a time.” I quoted the word eating because I really didn’t consider what the vampires did as actual consumption of food. It was more like drinking than anything else.
“And you believed ‘em?”
I shrugged. “I don’t normally believe what Samuel says, but he seemed genuine enough.”
Mike nodded. “M’kay. I trust your judgment.”
“Finally,” I said with a sigh, and then smiled.
“Ha ha. Very funny.” He smiled back, moving closer so he could nuzzle my neck.
I laughed. “Stop that. It tickles.” But he kept going, placing his hand on my lower stomach. The baby must have sensed him, because there was movement.
Mike pulled back from my neck a little. “That’s really kinda unnervin’,” he whispered.
“You’re telling me.”
Before he could go back to his kissing, the buzzer to the front door went off. “Sumbitch,” Mike hissed, getting up off the couch. Then he walked over to the intercom, pressing the button. “Hello?”
“Wolfman,” Angel’s voice screamed over the speaker. “Let me in!”
He looked over his shoulder at me, and I nodded. “Fine,” he hissed, pushing the buzzer. He unlocked the door and only had to wait a minute before she was knocking. “Come on in, Angel,” Mike said, as he sat back down next to me. “It’s open.”
She came through the door, almost slamming it behind her. “Fuckin’ great,” she yelled at Mike. “You couldn’t have told me that she was safe and sound?”
He shrugged. “She’s safe and sound.”
Angel narrowed her eyes. “Real fuckin’ cute. How are you, fleshy girl?” she asked me with a smile on her face.
“Good,” I answered. “And how are you this fine day?”
“Eh. Can’t complain. But I didn’t come here to talk. This bloodsucker called me last night. He said his name was Herb?” She made his name a question.
I nodded. “What did he want?”
“For me to help you out. He said that he’d done somethin’ wrong, and that he felt it would be better if I helped you with some sparring or some shit like that. I was havin’ a real hard time understandin’ him. He has a really thick accent.”
“How did he get your number?” I asked, a little confused.
“That’s the really weird part. When I asked him that same question, he wouldn’t say. But hey, he’s a vampire: they’re weird to begin with. He probably gleaned it off your brain or somethin’.”
“Gleaned,” I said with a nod. “Nice word.”
She smiled, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. So,” I breathed, getting up off the couch, “where do we start?”
She crooked her finger at me. “Follow me.” But before I could, she held up her hands. “You might want to put on some pants.”
I looked down at myself, realizing that I was still in my AC/DC nightshirt. “That would be a good idea. Give me a minute.”
Running into the bedroom, I grabbed a pair of sweats, placed them on, and took out a bra and put it on under my nightshirt. Then I put on some deodorant, pulling my hair up into a messy bun. I had already brushed my teeth earlier, so I didn’t have to worry about that. All I had to do was follow Angel wherever she wanted me to go.
“Ready,” I said, as I walked out of the bedroom, tying my sneakers.
Angel’s mouth dropped open. “Wow. That was fast.”
“Are we going or what?” I asked her.
She nodded. “Yeah. Come on.”
We walked outside, while Mike remained in the apartment so he could get dressed and have something to eat.
Angel led me out into the parking lot, which seemed to be a strange little routine lately, but this time Nathan stood amongst the cars, instead of Herb.
“What’s Nathan doing here?” I asked, but Angel just smiled at me. “What?”
“Nathan’s here because he’s gonna be your sparring partner for today.”
My eyes went wide. “Did I hear you right? Nathan is going to spar with me? He’s twice my size!”
“So is Stag,” Angel retorted. “What’s the problem?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.” The problem, as she put it, was far from nothing. Facing Elliot with a sword was one thing, but hand to hand combat with a werewolf that could crush my skull with one hand was another thing entirely. “Let’s just get this over with,” I muttered.
She shook her head at me. “Don’t worry. You got this.” She patted my shoulder reassuringly, and I just rolled my eyes.
“Okay,” she went on, “here’s the deal. Whoever shows their belly first, loses.”
&nb
sp; “Their belly?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“It’s a wolf thing,” Nathan bellowed, his crooked smile making me very nervous.
I gulped. “Okay.”
“First thing’s first,” Angel said, “you’ve gotta use your new instincts in order to win. Almost everything with a werewolf is instinct. We’re just like regular wolves, only we have human tendencies. And the rest of what we have is strength.” She walked up to one of the parked cars, bent over, and actually picked it up off the ground.
“Angel,” I hissed. “That is not your car. Put it down! Slowly.”
She did, but even doing it slowly, the fender bounced. I didn’t know what was more disturbing: the fact that she did that to a stranger’s car, or the fact that I now realized that Mike could have squashed me like a bug every time he gave me a hug.
“We’re very good at controllin’ our strength in human form,” she explained, as if she could read my mind. “But when we turn, it’s a whole different ball game. So what you’ll be dealin’ with will be unpredictable, and with Stag’s new vamp powers…” she paused. “Well, it might be a little different.”
“A little?” I asked, folding my arms.
She grimaced. “Okay, maybe a lot.”
“Did I miss much?” Mike came out with his chair, setting it down in his spot.
“Just explaining werewolves to fleshy girl,” Angel answered.
He narrowed his eyes at her as he sat down. “Really?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “Really.”
“Play nice now, children.” I told them, and Nathan laughed. So I smiled at him, and he winked.
“Okay,” Angel continued. “Now, here’s what you’re gonna do…close your eyes.”
I could feel myself begin to frown. “What?”
“Close your eyes,” she repeated.
“Fine,” I breathed, doing what she said. Not enthusiastically, I might add.
“Now,” she whispered in my ear, “what do you hear? Smell? Sense?”
I took a deep breath, focusing on what Angel had asked. I could hear the cars driving by, I could smell the pine trees that were at the other end of the parking lot, but the strangest thing of all is that I could sense someone was about to hit me. Quickly, I ducked, opening my eyes as I did so. Nathan was above my head swinging at the air, and the force of his blow sent him spiraling downward, and landed him on his ass with a thud.
