Rough Sleepers

by Nem Rowan

  "Dad's told Eric to escort Travis out of the club," Amy told me as she sat down on the arm of my chair, reaching out to stroke the fox's head resting on my shoulder. "You don't have to go back out tonight if you don't want to, you know."

  "Oh I ain't hiding away from my own crowd, honey... Fall off the pony, get back in the saddle and all that. I'm going right back out there to my usual seat and I'm gonna watch the rest of the show like I always do," I replied determinedly. There was no way Travis' appearance was going to cow me. I feared no one.

  "Nobody suspected anything... At least I don't think they did," she reassured me with one of her cute little feline smiles. "Don't forget mama, I'm right here if you need me. You can stay here, and we can watch some films and eat some crisps. You don't have to show your face all the time; no one's gonna punish you for it."

  If only I had listened to her. If only I hadn't gone back out and had stayed in my room until dawn. Amy would still be here. Slater would still be here. All those people I killed wouldn't have had to die. But how was I to know?

  Three

  I could hear Mecky and Ceri's voices muttering downstairs somewhere. I woke dazedly the following morning to the thumping of cupboard doors, the hiss of a boiling kettle and the mouth-watering scent of cooking food. Pale sunlight was lighting up the room and when I looked through the windows, I saw the odd speck of snow drifting down from the greying clouds. The sight of that alone was enough to make me grateful for my current situation and I curled up tighter under the duvet as my squinting eyes tried not to close fully and allow me to drift into sleep again. The fuzzy sound of their conversation roused me once more and I figured I had better get up; it would be rude for me to sleep in to midday when my hosts were obviously already having breakfast. I went to the bathroom and then headed for the stairs, the smell of food luring me forward as my belly growled in anticipation. Their voices became louder, but I didn't hear my name mentioned. The hallway was tracked with trails of Mecky's scent and I sniffed the air, realising that the smell I had caught on Ceri's clothing the night before was actually hers.

  As I reached the nearest doorway and peered through, Mecky was just placing a large mug of tea in front of Ceri, who was sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by plates and dishes of food. His hair was messy and looked as though he hadn't even brushed it, yet he was fully dressed. Before I had a chance to greet either of them, Mecky moved into the space between us and blocked my view, forcing me to look at her. Dressed in a white blouse and tight-fitting jeans, she struck me as being more on the androgynous side, and it confused me as it felt like I was meeting with my polar opposite. Her fair hair was cut short in a somewhat boyish style, two short curtains either side of her forehead, the back shaved closely and tidily trimmed, making her look a bit like a member of a 90's boy band. She was taller than me, slim and angular with small, almost invisible breasts and long, slender legs. It was like standing next to a baby giraffe. Even though she was thin, there was strength in her, and I saw the muscles in her arms. I couldn't tell if she had become muscular because of the werewolf curse or if she had been that way before, but I wasn't about to ask.

  "I am Mieczysława," she said. I saw her nostrils twitching and realised she was sniffing me out. I was restraining myself from doing the same and it was becoming increasingly difficult to stop. She offered me a pale hand and I looked down at it; handshakes were such human gestures and standing there before her made me realise just how much more animal I had become.

  "My name's Leon," I replied, accepting her hand but neither of us shook; we simply looked at each other. Making eye contact felt uncomfortable so we simply observed each other's appearance.

  For a second or two, neither of us moved, but then she hesitated forward, and I flinched. The warmth of her unique smell breathed into my lungs as she stepped closer, and every hair on my body began to prickle and flex as she bowed her head and began to sniff behind my ear. I had never met another werewolf like this and although what she was doing seemed logically strange, it also felt natural. I allowed her to do it, turning my head to the side, and in doing so she allowed me room to sniff her, too, my nose seeking the soft flesh behind her small ear. I could tell her age, her health and her mood from the scent alone, and at the moment she was feeling a little cautious of me; it made me wonder what unconscious signals I was giving her. It was only when Ceri cleared his throat behind us that we returned to our senses and I thought I caught a glimpse of her blushing as she moved away from me.

  "First time meeting another werewolf, Leon?" Ceri smirked as Mecky moved over to the kitchen counter and set about making another cup of tea. She kept her back turned and I got the idea that she was being shy.

  "Not the first time, obviously," I murmured as I sat down at the table facing him. My whole body still bristled, and I felt unsettled as though the encounter we had just had was fraught with emotional tumult. I looked down at the chopping board laden with salami and pate, slices of hot bread and a large dish full of runny scrambled eggs and shredded cabbage. It wasn't what I normally would have eaten for breakfast, but I wasn't complaining. This sure as hell beat going through bins in search of half-eaten pasties. Mecky brought me a huge mug of tea and it slopped over the rim and spilled on the table as she put it down beside me.

  "Come and sit, Mecky. Stop floating round the kitchen like a ghost," Ceri urged and she sighed, wiping her hands in the thighs of her jeans.

  "All right, I sit with you." she nodded and took a seat between us. Her ash grey eyes glanced sideways at me and a small smile turned the corners of her pink mouth as she took a slice of toast and began tearing the crust from the edges. "So you want to talk; why you not talk then?"

  The question was directed at Ceri and he smiled too then, his eyes half-closed as he mashed some scrambled egg into his sandwich using the prongs of his fork.

  "Well, now that you're up and awake Leon, I hoped you might be able to help us figure out who this person is that's going about on the full moon and attacking people." Ceri glanced up at me. Only when he had taken another bite did he speak again. "Y'see, I did a little bit of detective work round by your old club. And I heard from a few people that you were seen talking to a stranger the night before the massacre."

  I glanced at Ceri, then at Mecky because she was staring at me so intently. Mecky's toast made a crunching sound between her teeth as she bit into it, her large, expressive eyes gazing at me expectantly.

  "Yeah, I was." I spoke defensively, feeling as if I was being put on trial.

  I remembered that night so clearly, there was no way in my entire life that I was going to forget.

  After leaving Amy in my bedroom, I had swanned back down the stairs into the main hall of the club to the slow, sexy guitar of Freddie King as Diana Princess did her slutty, sultry dance. I admired her square jaw as she tilted her head away from the lights, turning her eye sockets into black holes. Diana was one of the girls I could trust; she never went letting a piece of shit like Travis bonk her while his queen, his goddess, his inspiration was up on-stage making money. I had a good view of the stage from my raised seating area, which was reserved exclusively for me as the club owner, and my friends and good fellows, whosoever I chose to invite. Several large red leather seats were positioned towards the stage, clustered around squat ebony coffee tables and sectioned off from the rest of the club by a low wall, steps leading up blocked off by a tape barrier. Stefano had escorted me to my seat and called over one of the camp, young waiters who was eager to bring me whatever I desired. A G&T on the rocks with a fat slice of lime and a little squeeze of lemon. I sat, sipping it as I relaxed, letting the alcohol banish those horrid thoughts of Travis' rodentlike face as he had grinned up at me from beneath the stage. The booze wasn't doing it enough; I rummaged around in my mink handbag in search of my cigarette tin.

  "Need a smoke?" a voice answered beside me, and I couldn't help but jump at the close proximity.

  I turned sharply, a scowl of both alarm and annoya
nce at the intrusion. No one ever dared step up here, and now I was being confronted by a second indignity. There was a man sitting in the seat right next me, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle as his elbows rested on the arms of the chair. Let me rephrase: there was a handsome man sitting in the seat right next to me. He looked like a dark-haired Burt Reynolds body double, only with a slightly larger nose, a grey beard patched with black, some steel areas peppering his sideburns and the back of his neck. His well-muscled torso was dressed in a fitted white shirt, an emerald-patterned tie draped lazily across his chest and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his hairy arms and thickly veined hands, a gold watch glinting on his wrist. Dark grey trousers covered his legs, finished off by a pair of polished black leather shoes. I stared at him and he must have sensed my surprise because he simply chuckled and offered me an open packet of menthol Lucky Strikes.

  "Wallace Reed." I spoke aloud as the memory filled my head. I could even hear him saying it in my mind, the sound of his charming voice.

  "You know his name?" Ceri's words did little to distract me from the vision of the man who had been there, flashing his white teeth at me.

  "He said his name was Wallace Reed," I repeated, looking over at Ceri who was staring at me with a measure of controlled urgency.

  "You saw the man?" Mecky asked and I looked at her, nodding.

  "Damn right, I saw the man. I saw all of the man..." I mumbled, trailing off. I thought of Wallace Reed's taut, sinuous body and felt his firm buttocks in my palms. It caused a shiver of hatred and lust to run through me. They told me the Devil was handsome.

  "I see only monster," Mecky told me emotionlessly. "Monster that bite my leg and leave me dying. No man."

  "Can you describe him?" Ceri asked, and I nodded, explaining to him what the man had been wearing and how he had looked when he had spoken to me in the club.

  "And what happened after he offered you the cigarettes?" he prompted, his eyes staring at me imploringly.

  "Well..." I hummed, wondering if it would be wise to tell him the whole story. Both of them were staring at me, anxious to hear more, and I closed my eyes, taking myself back to that night.

  Wallace Reed leaned towards me, the cigarettes in his hand. The lights twinkled on his shiny teeth. I was furious.

  "Who the fuck do you think you are?" I turned my nose up at him. I wondered if there was something in the air that night, making all the men act like entitled jerks.

  "My name's Wallace Reed. And you must be Leona Valentine," he replied, not seeming at all disappointed when I didn't accept his favour, instead putting the packet away in the pocket of his suit jacket, which lay slipped over the arm of the chair.

  "I'm gonna cram my size 9 up your ass if you don't get out of my private area," I snapped, glaring at him intermittently as I kept glancing down into the club to see if I could catch the eye of one of the waiters.

  "I would have hoped a lady such as yourself would be a bit more interested in having a man like me in her...private area." he raised his thick eyebrows. His sage green eyes flashed at me, reflective in the shadows like the eyes of a wild animal.

  "You picked the wrong lady. Get out." I curled my lip and rolled my eyes in disbelief.

  "I saw your little friend earlier. Travis, that's his name, right?" he tilted his head, lifting his hand to suck on the cigarette he was holding. Smoke plumed through his nostrils.

  "He ain't my friend."

  "Oh, no? He's not your boyfriend? I sensed a bit of tension between the two of you, thought you were having some relationship problems or something." He shrugged, leaning forward to tap some ash into the cut glass bowl on the coffee table.

  "There is no relationship. Don't make me get up outta this chair. Please leave, now. Before I call for security." I pointed to the steps, but he completely ignored my arm and instead stared into my eyes.

  "So I guess it's alright for me to pursue you then. Being that you're a single lady and all."

  I drank deeply from my glass and sank back in my seat. I wasn't used to having my commands ignored, not anymore, not like I used to be. There was something embarrassing about it. I just wanted the night to end so that I could put it behind me. Should have stayed upstairs with Amy. I watched the firebreathers on the stage, chewing the inside of my cheek and sighing. I saw him move and next thing I knew, he was leaning on the arm of my chair, gazing at me, as he took my hand in his and stroked it.

  "I took care of Travis for you. He won't bother you again, my beauty. I've made damned sure of that. I saw the way you looked at him when he harassed you. I heard about the rumours going around, what he did to you. I'm sorry you suffered like that. No one deserves to have their loyalty thrown back in their face. When you love someone, you have to show, not tell," he spoke, his expression becoming serious, not secretively leering like it had been before.

  "Oh yeah? And you'd know about that, would you? I suppose you're a knight in shining armour, huh? Riding in here on a white horse?" I narrowed my eyes, but I couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness in my heart. "Did you really expect me to just fall into your arms?"

  "No. I know all about you, Leona. Why they call you The Murderess. Did you really kill your father?" he didn't seem put off by my defensiveness.

  "Damn right I killed that son of a bitch," I retorted.

  Well, that wasn't entirely the truth. He wasn't really my father, he was my step-dad, and I didn't so much as kill him as accidentally push him down the stairs. Serves him right for telling me I couldn't wear my favourite dress, though nowadays I wasn't so sure it was worth killing over. I did time for manslaughter; I guess The Manslaughteress Club doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

  "I'm like you; a killer. What do you think I've done to Travis?" he spoke to me, and when he grinned, I couldn't help but stare at his dazzling white teeth. Probably had them bleached at the dentist. No filler though; he had a lot of lines on his face.

  "You've killed Travis, huh? Okay, sure." I smiled disbelievingly, making a huffing sound and drinking some more gin.

  "Just for you, darling. Just for you." His grin darkened as he puffed on his cigarette again. The smoke clouded around us before fading into the air. "I dedicated the murder to you by throwing him down some stairs first."

  I nodded, one eyebrow arching disbelievingly as I continued to smile. This guy was a first-class lunatic. Pity really, because he was quite a looker. "Do continue."

  "Then, I tore him to pieces. There are bits of him floating in the marina. The street cleaners will probably find his severed head tomorrow morning, sitting in a bin on the city centre," he added.

  I noticed that he had silently moved his chair closer to mine, and his arm had gradually slid round the back in a distant embrace. I could smell his strong, masculine scent.

  "I'm bigger and badder than Travis ever will be."

  "And I suppose you've come to claim me as your territory, eh honey?" I was unable to stop myself from laughing at his behaviour. He nodded slowly, and I mimicked, except I shook my head instead. "No. I ain't nobody's territory. I ain't nobody's property."

  "Won't you at least let me attempt to conquer you?" he purred, and a small shiver ran through me as he pushed some of my pale grey hair behind my ear, revealing the dangling ruby earring. His lips kissed my neck, my jaw, behind my ear. I shivered again.

  I guess I wasn't that difficult to conquer.

  I lifted a piece of paté-covered bread and took a bite, the herby flavour of the spread strong enough to make me cough, but I swallowed it down. It did little to banish the bitterness in my throat that the memories were causing.

  "I don't think I like to hear this story." Mecky was making a quirky smile, one brow raised and the other lowered as she stared at me.

  "Well I won't tell you the next bit then." I shrugged carelessly.

  Ceri made a muffled chuckle, his mouth broadening into an entertained grin that caused his pale eyes to light up. He looked younger when he smiled. When I had first see
n him, I had thought he was nearly in his sixties, but now I wasn't so sure. Early fifties, perhaps.

  "No, go on. Tell us the story." He prompted with a wave of his hand.

  "Okay, well... The next thing I knew, he was undressing me on my bed," I began awkwardly, a cringe twisting my face as I focused on my food.

  He unzipped me, unlaced me. The smooth fabric slipped off down over my legs, revealing my athletic male body. Wallace didn't seem put off by my masculine shape and manly shoulders that I could never hide and so had no choice but to own. The noise of the club was still audible below, drowning out the sounds of our passion. He stopped to unbutton, and I marvelled at his sculpted torso and furry chest, anxious to get those trousers off and see what species of snake he kept down there.

  "Ohh-kay, we have enough of this story," Mecky interrupted; her face really was blushing this time and she couldn't stop grinning.