He leaned in to kiss me goodbye, but a growl from Wick stopped him short. Tristan’s gaze slid to the Werewolf again, and he arched a brow before he returned his full attention back to me. “I’ll call you.”
Before Wick could do any bodily harm, Tristan planted a solid smack of a kiss on my lips, winked, and walked out the door.
When I turned to the Werewolf in the room, his yellow wolf eyes bore a hole in my head, and I quickly looked away. Avoiding the vibrating ball of anger, also known as Wick, I skirted around him, sat down and guzzled some water.
“Have you already decided then?” Wick asked. His despair slammed into me fractions of a second after his voice.
I choked on my water. “Why would you think that?”
“You seem very close to Tristan. And he did not have the luxury of having you under house arrest for weeks. And he did not spend a week with you in his arms, taking it slow.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he kept his attention locked on me.
I hiccupped. My cheeks heated, and I slapped a hand over my mouth. It didn’t help. I hiccupped again.
Wick shook his head and walked over to me as I sat up and draped myself over my knees. “I hate hiccups.” My voice immediately followed by another involuntary reaction.
“I never understood why they exist. Seems like a rather useless reaction for the body to have.” He sat down beside me and rubbed my back. His phone vibrated against my thigh.
“I favor the Phylogenetic Hypothesis, which proposes hiccups are remnants of the neural mechanism from when our amphibian ancestors frequently switched between breathing in air and water.”
Wick’s eyebrows rose into his blond hairline.
“I um…” My eyes shifted for the nearest exit.
“You are a closet geek.” Wick sat back and crossed his arms. A slow smile spread across his face. “Admit it.”
“Not exactly in the closet anymore, am I?” My hiccups subsided—a perk of being a Shifter, my diaphragm recovered quicker than a norm’s.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “How did you get so knowledgeable?”
Exhaling deeply, I sagged into the couch. He draped an arm around me and pulled my body toward him so my head rested on his shoulder. I took a moment to enjoy the simple gesture before speaking. “In my pursuit to find relevant information to what I am, I came across a lot of random biological facts. I sort of collected them, still do, as if they’ll somehow become useful if there’s ever an apocalypse. Even now that I know more about myself and my abilities, I still read Scientific American and Preternatural Science.”
The muscles in his shoulder twitched as his fingers caressed my skin. “Cannot break the habit?”
“It’s more like a compulsive disorder than a habit, but yeah. I can’t stop accumulating useless factoids.”
We sat in companionable silence. He pulled his phone and tapped the screen. “I have to go,” he said, but remained seated. The air darkened with the laden scent of Wick’s sadness. His mind had wandered back to his question about making a decision.
“My cat has always been more dominant than my wolf, Wick.” I explained in a hushed voice. “Even before Dylan. But then after…”
Wick started to speak, but I turned to him and placed my finger over his lush lips.
“But after, I retreated into my cat and lived as one for many years in the wild. It’s even more dominant now, and there’s an inherent trust. My wolf…”
“You do not trust your wolf,” Wick whispered against my finger.
“I don’t.” And I can’t trust you either. I choked on the unspoken words “I’m so sorry.”
“Is that it, then? You have decided?”
My wolf growled. I swallowed a couple times before I could answer. “No.”
Wick’s brows furrowed.
“I haven’t made a decision. I feel like I’m being split in two with these feras of mine, but I’m not going to let them make this decision for me.” I met Wick’s yellow wolf eyes. “I’m going to make it. Me.” I thumbed my chest a little too hard. That’s going to bruise.
Wick’s eyes blazed. “Good.”
He leaned in for a kiss, but halted a fraction of an inch from my lips. His nose flared. “You smell of him.”
“Um.” Didn’t know how to respond to that. He said it matter-of-fact, but somehow I couldn’t shake one of my inside voices screaming “whore” over and over again.
Wick stood and pulled me up with him. I walked him to the door, unsure of what to say. Awkward, didn’t quite cover it.
“I will call you.” He drew my hands up and kissed my knuckles. Beyond awkward.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I am you. You are me. We are one.”
~Andy’s feras
The sauna-like conditions inside my K-car had sweat running down my back in less than three minutes. I’d pulled to the side of the road to set up a phone call, and without air-conditioning, the sweltering heat decided to try and cook me.
Deep thrumming echoed through my chest and demanded I walk into the forest. I ignored the urge, and tapped Donny’s number on my phone’s screen instead. Now, a series of rings filled my ears as I monitored the cars on the road. As a space in traffic opened, I stepped on the gas and maneuvered the car into the lane.
Donny picked up and answered with a grizzly, “hello.”
I spoke quickly into my hands-free device. “I need to pick your brain.”
“I thought you hated zombies?” Donny’s craggy voice rattled my headset.
“What? Oh yeah, I despise them. So stupid.” I paused. “Wait. What?”
Donny laughed.
Picking brains, zombies, got it. I glared at the phone. “Listen old man, I don’t have time for your jokes.”
That made him laugh harder. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your telephonic communications then?” he asked. Amusement rang like bells in his voice and his formal question irritated me. He did it on purpose. I could tell.
“I need to know what water supes have psionic powers and feed off supe energy.”
A long pause.
“Donny?” The light ahead turned orange, and I eased the brakes on. A loud metal-on-metal sound punched the air as my brakes struggled to stop the vehicle. Sweat trickled down my face.
“Carus, what makes you think I would have an answer for you?”
“You’re ancient. You should know everything.”
Donny grunted. “Why don’t you read the—”
“If you tell me to read that stupid encyclopedia one more time, I’m going to tell you what to do with it. Or more precisely, where you can shove it.” The light changed, and I prodded my dilapidated car onward.
“Well now. Your attitude has changed since becoming an ambassador.” His tone teased. “All high and mighty now.”
I sighed. “Can you help me?”
“There’s too many, Andy. I can’t narrow it down for you with two pieces of information.”
“Four.” I flicked my fingers out as I counted them, even though Donny couldn’t see the action. “One: water supe, two: psionic, three: feeds off energy, and four: prefers supe energy.”
“No. Two.”
“Donny,” my voice threatened.
“One: water supe and two: psionic. All preternatural beings with psionic skills require feeding off energy. And all beings, supernatural or otherwise have the same type of energy; it’s just higher or increased in supes. So as you can see, your last two facts are already accounted for by psionic.”
“So you can’t help me.”
“Not with that, no. But I wanted to ask you how things were going. I promised not to inquire about whether you’ve read the book, but have you thought about going for a walk in the forest?”
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel and continued toward Mrs. Booth Senior. “I did read it, and no. Why would I walk in the forest? I’m running around like a headless chicken, I don’t have time for nature walks to find myself.”
&nb
sp; “Not to find yourself, you silly girl. You need to open your mind and your heart. Find another fera, another part of yourself, a part you need.”
A bike courier darted out from two parked cars. Crap! I swerved to avoid him, and narrowly missed colliding with the van in the next lane. The car behind me honked, and the cyclist yelled profanities. I flipped them both off.
“What about going crazy?” I asked.
“What about it?”
“Are you pushing me to do this, so I go nuts and the SRD can lock me up and prod me with lab instruments?
“Carus, if I wanted that, I wouldn’t have to wait. They butcher anything unique and beautiful, regardless of their state of mind.”
I glanced in my rearview mirror. The angry driver in the car behind me turned off on Cambie. Good riddance. “Awww, Donny. You think I’m beautiful.”
“And unique,” he replied without pause. “You need to learn about yourself. A Carus is a gift to us all, and I don’t want to lose you because you’re too stubborn to try a life lesson.”
“I’ve had plenty of life lessons, thank you very much.”
“There’s no quota on learning, Carus. If there is, the moment you reach it, you die.” Donny’s voice drifted off.
Not liking the static silence on the other end of the phone, I thanked Donny and said goodbye. The car’s steering wheel squished under my tightening grip while I made a decision. “I can’t believe I’m doing this!”
I ripped off the hands-free headset and chucked it on the passenger seat. Instead of continuing straight through the next intersection, a direction that would lead me to Agent Booth’s mother’s house, I turned right and headed for a patch of nature.
****
Open my heart and my mind.
My phone beeped. Easier said than done. I glanced at my cell’s screen to see a message from Officer Stan Stevens. Turning it on silent, I made a mental note to call him back as soon as I finished finding my inherent awesomeness.
The nearest green spaces had probably been Stanley park or the nearby university, but both felt too cultured and definitely too populated for the privacy I wanted. Instead, I drove to the mountains in North Vancouver. It felt right.
Never being to this particular location before, I parked the car on the side of a rural road and walked into the forest. I found an old dirt trail used more often by deer and bears than humans. I had the oddest sensation while I walked that I knew where I was going, as if I’d been here before. The path opened up to a small clearing in the deep woods. I sat cross-legged in the center.
And waited.
And waited.
My eyes pinged open. I checked the time on my cell phone. How long was I going to give this? If it took any longer, I was going to get stuck in rush hour over the bridge.
Argh!
Inhale. Exhale. I concentrated on my breathing to relax my muscles and mind, like the karate exercise my old sensei repeatedly made me do to focus my chi. The sun broke through the clouds sporadically, trickling down to illuminate the grass below and warm my chilled skin. I closed my eyes. Breathe.
The soft patter of tiny feet and the rustle of bushes ahead to the right caught my attention. Keeping my eyes closed, I focused on the approaching sound. Pitter, patter. Stop. Sniff. Pitter, patter. Stop. Sniff.
The urge to leap to my feet and rush to the animal overwhelmed my senses, but I remained still. I needed to stay calm and wait for this fera to come to me. When a cold, wet nose pressed against my bare arm, I nearly yelped in surprise.
I opened my eyes and turned my head to see a beautiful red fox sitting a foot away from me.
Are you my new fera? I asked.
The fox’s voice was a playful rasp in my head, but her words confused me: I am you. You are me. We are one.
The other three feras in my head repeated the same line as if it were a chorus in a popular song. They’d each said it to me on that night almost sixty-six years ago. It didn’t make sense then, and it didn’t make sense now. Not helpful.
Not like other feras. Less, but more.
Can you explain using full sentences?
No.
Groaning, I flopped back to lie on the forest floor. The fox trotted up to me and leaned in to lick my face. I swatted her away like a fly, but she dodged my hand. I froze with my arm stretched out. If I touched her, would the same thing happen? I shuddered and blocked the memory of my first contact with a fera before it could bubble up.
I am you. You are me. We are one, she repeated.
The meaning of the encyclopedia hit me like a wrecking ball bashing into the side of a dilapidated building. It said each fera was a “spiritual guide and representation of part of the Carus’s soul.” As a part of me, I needed this fox to be complete. Sand to my rocky soul, and whatnot. She wasn’t like the feras of other Shifters who had a personality and identity of their own. She was me. I was her. We were one. A light bulb went on. It flickered a bit, but the meaning sank in anyway.
How do we do this? My first time had been so traumatic; I had no idea if it would go down the same way.
The fox cocked her head. One touch.
I nodded. That’s all it took with the others as well. I’d had this compulsion to pet them, and the instant my hand made contact, I drew them into my very being. Guess I hadn’t messed up the bonding as badly as I thought.
I hesitated to extend my arm. Are you sad? You’re giving up your life.
If a fox could snort, that’s what she did. A short blast of air rebounded across my dendrites. Not life, until we’re one.
Before I lost the courage, I reached out to run my hand down the flaming fur, but the instant my fingers made contact, the fox shimmered and wavered. She lost colour, as if my finger somehow sucked it out of her. The transparent, black and white fox smiled before she disappeared, drawn into my body like dust suctioned into a vacuum. I am you. You are me. We are one.
The impact of my new fox fera was immediate. She slammed into my essence. Like one shot of tequila too many. My mind over-filled. My head hurt, sending sheering pain to the back of my eyeballs. My skull ached as if my brain doubled in size to accommodate the extra animal. I moved my hands to gently press my temples, patting down my hair. Nothing had changed. Not on the outside at least.
Inside, a full-out battle for dominance reigned. My mountain lion immediately set to establishing her superiority, and my wolf followed suit. The falcon, never interested in shows of dominance, screeched loudly, sending more lancing pain through my head. I dropped to my hands and knees, and waited for the throbbing to stop.
And then I felt it. The beast within. She stirred. As if sensing my weakness, the Ualida pushed, and rose, wanting control. The desire to give in and let her rule coated my tongue with a bitter taste. One shift, and I’d be strong, powerful, and invincible. Nobody could hurt me.
Wait! This is wrong.
The words from the encyclopedia floated through my head as I fought to contain the rising danger: If the Carus loses control of the beast, it will escape, transforming the Carus to a nexus of evil that will reap devastation to all.
The only time the Ualida wrested control, she destroyed the Werewolf pack responsible for nearly obliterating my will to live. Lately, she’d become more present. But she tended to awaken when danger came to kick my ass. She had no cause to defend me now.
I’m safe.
I repeated this line and pushed her down.
My feras halted their infighting and joined the struggle, working together to shackle the beast back to the center of my core.
It worked.
With the Ualida settled into her resting place, the feras established their hierarchy—same order as before with the poor little fox at the bottom. That’s what she wanted anyway.
Something trickled down my upper lip. I reached up to wipe it away, and when I held my fingers back, they were coated with blood. Nosebleed. I used my shirt to blot the rest of it off and stalked back to my car. The blood soaked into my shirt.
After jumping into my car and slamming the door shut, I rested my head on the seat and closed my eyes. My brain throbbed and every muscle in my body ached. Apparently I had masochist tendencies. Adding a new fera? That shit hurt.
My feras sang in my head, now content: I am you. You are me. We are one.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Is he still handcuffed in your love den?”
~Andrea McNeilly
When I opened my apartment’s front door, Stan barged in with a scrunched-up face, knocking me out of the way without so much as a “hi.”
“Why didn’t you return my calls?” he demanded.
“Nice to see you too, Stan. Please, come in. Make yourself welcome.” I didn’t waste one of my megawatt smiles on his back.
“I’ve no time for your sass.” He stalked into my living room and halted, as if surprised to find it normal.
“Sass?” I squinted at him. “You’re too young to use pre-Purge slang like that.”
He grunted and resumed studying my place as if he expected circus animals to leap out any second.
I cleared my throat. “Not what you expected?”
Stan returned my glare, and I waved my arm in a grand gesture to indicate he sit on the couch.
“What’s so urgent?” I asked. “Did you find out something about the Supe Slayer?”
“Not exactly. But it’s related, and we might’ve closed another case,” he said, finally taking a seat. He kept his back upright and his weight forward.
“Oh yeah?”
“We caught one of the possessed humans running away from a grocery store. Stole a bunch of cucumbers. Turns out, she owns a chain of grocery stores herself—none of which have been robbed. Think she might be the thief behind the recent vegetable thefts.”
Cucumbers, vegetables, possessed humans. The dendrites in my brain clicked into place. I held up my index finger to Stan and pulled my phone out. After quickly tapping the screen, I found the number I wanted and hit call. Stan ignored the power of my finger and started speaking. I shoved it against his lips. He sputtered, but stopped talking, seconds before the Witch picked up the phone.
Beast Coast (A Carus Novel Book 2) Page 19
