by Jason Starr
Then Simon heard, “Hey!” and turned and saw the woman from Ramon’s apartment jogging toward him.
She caught up with him and slowed, walking alongside him, and said frantically, “I had to get out of there. Ramon’s scaring me, everyone’s scaring me with all this crazy werewolf crap.”
“What’s your name?” Simon asked, extending his hand.
She didn’t shake, but she said, “Diane.” Then she said, “So who are you? How do you know so much about all this?”
Simon knew that telling her he was a werewolf himself would freak her out and make it less likely that she’d believe anything he told her, so he said, “I know Ramon from the playground. We have sons the same age.” Simon realized he’d answered the question elusively, the way Michael might’ve.
Diane seemed confused. “So Ramon told you about it?”
“He and his friends, yes.”
“Why do they all think they’re werewolves?”
Simon heard Michael’s voice in his head: She won’t understand.
“Look, they’re seriously disturbed, okay?” Simon said. “You saw how your friend was acting. Did that seem normal to you?”
This seemed to have an effect on Diane. She said, “You should’ve seen her. She was trying to bite me, licking my blood, and now she’s been sending me these crazy texts, saying she wants to come to my apartment.”
“I think you might be in serious danger, Diane.”
She looked truly terrified. “Why do you keep—”
“It might be worse than biting. What if she tries to kill you?”
“Why would she try to kill me?”
“Because she’s out of control. She’s insane.”
Diane stopped walking and looked terrified, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She said, “Please, just tell me what the hell is going on.”
Stopping too, Simon said, “You have to trust me.”
“Trust you? I have no idea who you are.”
“I told you who I am. I’m Simon Burns. I’m an ad exec . . . I mean ex–ad exec. I’m a married man with a three-year-old son and I live on the Upper West Side. I know what’s going on because they want to bite me too.”
Diane glanced down briefly, probably at Simon’s wedding band—this seemed to build her confidence in him. She was probably thinking, Married guy? A kid? How dangerous could he possibly be?
She asked, “So why don’t you go to the police?”
“What are the police going to do when I tell them that I think people who claim they’re werewolves want to bite me? Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but I really am just trying to help you. They know you know about them, and that makes you a threat. You have to stay as far away from them as you can until this blows over.”
Diane stared at Simon with very wide, incredulous eyes, and then she stepped off the curb onto the street and stuck her hand out, trying to hail a cab.
“Where are you going?” Simon asked.
“Home,” she said. “I’ve had enough of this for one day.”
A cab pulled alongside Diane.
“She could be waiting for you there,” Simon said.
Diane hesitated with her hand on the door handle.
“You saw how crazy she is,” Simon said. “Let me take you back to your apartment. Just to make sure it’s safe.”
“It’s not necess—”
“Please,” Simon said. “She texted you that she might be there, right?”
“You gettin’ in or what?” the driver asked.
Diane, still thinking, didn’t move for a few more seconds. Then she said to Simon, “Fine. Whatever.”
Simon got in the back of the cab next to Diane. He could smell the odors of many people, Fritos, chewing gum, and urine.
As they headed downtown, Diane said to Simon, “You better not be some crazy stalker.”
“I promise you, I’m not a crazy stalker,” Simon said.
“Yeah, and that’s exactly what a crazy stalker would say.”
They almost smiled.
Then Diane said, “I’m sorry. Seriously, you seem like a good guy. It was just so scary before—I mean, to see somebody you know, somebody you trust, suddenly acting so completely insane. It was really like she’d become a different person.”
“Yeah,” Simon said. “I know what that’s like.”
“So what does her boyfriend have to do with all this?”
“Boyfriend?” Simon was playing dumb.
“Yeah, before, when I told you she told me she was a werewolf, you asked me if she knew Michael. What does he have to do with it?”
Trying to avoid the subject, Simon said, “I’m not sure. I just heard he’s involved, that’s all.”
“You know, I warned her about him from the very beginning,” she said. “The night they met, I didn’t want her to go home with him, and then I tried to talk her into breaking up with him, but it was like he had some kind of spell over her. I thought he was crazy too, I mean, the way he was rough with her in bed and demanded sex and . . .” She shook her head, then said, “Listen to me, blaming her, when I did the same thing myself, falling so hard for Ramon. And to think, I used to complain about the crazy guys I’ve met on Match. At least those guys didn’t think they were werewolves.”
About ten minutes later, the cab slowed in front of Diane’s apartment, a walk-up tenement on East Fourth Street between Avenues A and B. Diane paid the fare and then, as she and Simon got out of the cab, she was looking around in every direction, clearly terrified.
“You want me to check out your apartment for you?” Simon said. “Just to make sure all is well. She could’ve figured out a way to get in.”
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s okay, I want to.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I am pretty scared.”
They went through the double-door security and took the stairs up four flights. Diane was gasping a little, but Simon was breathing normally.
“Wow, you’re in good shape,” Diane said. “I’ve been living here five years and I’m still not used to the stairs.”
She opened both locks and flicked on the lights. It was a narrow “railroad-style” apartment. There was a small kitchen to the left and a narrow living room leading to a narrow hallway and another room.
“I know I’m just being totally paranoid now,” Diane said, “but would you mind just checking to make sure she isn’t here?”
Simon went through the apartment, looking in the bathroom, including the shower, and then went into the small bedroom, which was barely wide enough to fit a double bed. He checked the bedroom closet and noticed the gate over the window that opened to the fire escape.
He returned to the living room, where Diane was standing, and said, “Coast is clear.”
“Thank you,” Diane said. “I admit I do feel much safer now. Want something to drink? I have cranberry juice and Vitaminwater.”
Simon saw—and smelled—sliced turkey wrapped in deli paper in the fridge. He wanted the meat badly—he could practically taste it—but he resisted and said, “It’s okay . . . I’m fine.”
“I just want to apologize again,” Diane said, taking the bottle of cranberry juice. “This has just been such a weird day and it keeps getting weirder.... I’m angry at myself too, for getting involved with Ramon. You said you’re friends with him?”
“I’m not sure if friend is the right word,” Simon said. “We’re acquaintances.”
“I can’t believe I fell for a guy like that,” Diane said. “He’s so smooth and fake—I can usually see right through a guy like that. But there was just something about him. I was just unbelievably attracted to him, and I have no idea why.”
“Yeah, Ramon seems to have that effect on people. It’s probably the . . .” He was going to say wolves’ blood in his system, but he didn’t think that would go over very well, so he said, “It’s probably just the way he is.”
Diane poured herself a glass of juice. Simon noticed th
at her scent was much more pungent than before, probably because she’d been sweating coming up the stairs. He watched her suck down most of the juice in one gulp. He noticed the clock on the stove: 11:14.
Then she said, “But tonight he was really scaring me. The way he grabbed me when I said I was leaving, he was acting like Olivia was before.”
“Do you have family in the city?” Simon asked.
“I’m from Michigan,” she said.
“Well, I think you should think about going back home for a while,” Simon said, “until things settle down.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Simon’s look said he wasn’t.
“I can’t leave my life,” she said. “I have a job here. And why would I leave? Just because my friends are acting a little weird? Okay, a lot weird.”
Simon was still very serious. “No,” he said. “You’d be leaving to save your life.”
“See? There you go, trying to scare me again. Do you get off on—”
She was looking downward toward Simon’s waist, or at something slightly below it. At first Simon thought she was looking at his wedding band again, but then he realized something was amiss because she seemed shocked, even disgusted.
Then he caught on. “I’m so sorry,” he said, turning away and reaching into his pants to adjust his erection. “That’s never happened to me before . . . I mean it doesn’t usually happen so . . . I’m really sorry.”
Diane suddenly seemed horrified. “Ramon got sudden hard-ons like that too . . . Oh my God, you’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“No,” Simon said. “Of course I—”
“Wait, let me guess, you think you’re a werewolf too, don’t you?”
“No, that’s absolutely ridiculous; of course, werewolves don’t actually exist.” Simon was trying to make it sound absurd, but he was probably overdoing it.
“What do you want to do,” Diane said, “bite me too?” She opened a drawer and took out a large steak knife. Sticking it out in front of her, she said, “Get the hell out of my apartment right now, you perverted son of a bitch!”
“Come on,” Simon said, “just put the—”
She swiped the knife and it came dangerously close to Simon’s face.
“Whoa,” Simon said. “Are you crazy?”
“I’m crazy? Ha, that’s a good one!”
She lunged at Simon with the knife, and he was able to back away in the nick of time.
“Okay, fine, I’m going, I’m going.”
Simon went toward the door and was about to undo the locks when he smelled a woman. It wasn’t Diane—though he could still smell her too. It was a different woman.
“I think she’s here,” he said.
Diane was confused. “Who’s here? What the hell’re you—?”
“There’s a woman outside your door.”
“How do you know that?”
“I can smell her.”
Diane’s look asked, Huh? Then the bell rang and Diane’s eyes widened. She remained motionless, staring at Simon.
Then a female voice said, “Diane, come on, open up, and I know you have a guy in there, he smells absolutely scrumptious.”
“Oh my God.” Diane was horrified. “It’s her.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“I heard that,” Olivia said from the hallway.
Diane whispered to Simon, “How could she hear me? And how did you smell her?”
“Let her in,” Simon said.
“Are you crazy? She’ll try to bite me again.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“I should’ve just called the cops right away. You’re all insane.”
Simon grabbed Diane’s hand—the one not holding the knife—and pulled her to the back of the apartment, to the bedroom. Then he leaned in very close to her ear and said in a voice so quiet it was barely audible, “Just let her in, okay? I’m here, I’ll protect you, I promise.”
“Let go of me.”
Simon let go and whispered, “I’m not trying to hurt you, but your friend Olivia obviously is. I have to reason with her, make sure something bad doesn’t happen tonight, something that would make this permanent. If that happens, you’ll never be safe again, you’ll always be in danger. Do you understand me?”
Diane seemed to be responding to Simon’s intensity. She wasn’t trying to stab him to death anymore, anyway.
“Fine,” she said in a normal tone.
Simon made a face.
“Fine,” she continued, whispering. “But if you can’t convince her to leave me alone, I’m calling the cops.”
She took the knife with her into the bathroom and locked the door.
“Are you going to open up?” Olivia said. “I’m not leaving until I can at least talk to you.”
Simon opened the front door and was immediately mesmerized, the way a dog on the street stops and stares at another dog of the same breed.
“Who are you?” she asked.
Simon knew she was feeling what he was feeling; she had to be feeling it.
“A friend of Diane’s,” he said.
“She bagged another cute guy?” Olivia said. “Wow, she’s really cleaning up tonight and I can’t even get laid.”
“No, Diane and I just met, actually,” Simon said.
“Oh really?” Olivia was in the apartment now, closing the door. “In that case, fair game is fair game.”
Suddenly she had her arms around his waist, pulling him against her. He didn’t want to be attracted to her, but he couldn’t help it. She smelled and felt so good; he wanted her as badly as he wanted a steak dinner.
Her hands were on his ass now, pulling him up against her, and he felt his hard-on pressing against the zipper of his jeans.
Then sanity returned as he thought, What the hell am I doing? He had no real interest in any woman other than Alison. This was just the wolves’ blood messing with his brain.
“Stop it,” he said, pushing her away with his hands.
“Why?” she said, panting. “I’m so horny for you, and I know you want me too.”
He watched her nostrils flare a little. He hated that she was right.
She unsnapped his jeans and slid her hands over his boxer briefs. He pushed her back again, a little harder this time, or at least with more intent, but then she shoved him hard against the wall. He was surprised how strong she was. He had to be sixty or seventy pounds heavier, but she was pushing him around almost effortlessly.
“Look, I know what’s happening,” Simon said.
“If you know, why don’t you just take off your clothes?”
“No, I mean I know what he did to you. I know he gave you the beer too, but if you don’t show up tonight you’ll be okay, you’ll return to normal.”
She tried to grab his crotch again, and then, as if suddenly hearing what he’d said, she asked, “What beer?”
“The beer,” Simon said, “at his brewery. That’s what happened to you, right?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, lunging at him again.
Going around the small round kitchen table, barely avoiding her, Simon said,“I don’t get it. If he didn’t give you the beer, how did you get this way?” Then it hit him. “Wait, Michael didn’t . . . bite you already, did he?”
Now she stopped and stared at him suspiciously. “How do you know about Michael?”
Then Simon looked at her neck and noticed a bite mark that seemed to be healing. Suddenly he sensed the danger he was in. Instinct shouted at him to run, get the hell away, but he couldn’t leave Diane with her.
“Michael is just a guy I know,” Simon said. “But I know what he did to you. I know how badly you want to bite Diane, but she won’t survive if you do it. Do you really want to kill your friend?”
Olivia’s expression softened. Was he getting through to her?
“Now I know why you’re here,” she said. “Because you want to bite her first.”
Nope, wasn’t getting throug
h.
“No, I’m here because I know what’s going on,” Simon said. “I know how dangerous this is. We have to stop it now, before it gets out of hand.”
“You know what I think?” Olivia said with a devilish grin. “I think I’ll bite whoever I want to bite.”
Olivia wasn’t fooled. She easily intercepted him and pushed him back against the stove. He couldn’t hold her back—she was way too powerful. To defend himself, he grabbed the only thing within his reach—a frying pan. He swung the pan as hard as he could, and it clanged against Olivia’s head.
She keeled over, apparently stunned. Simon went to the bathroom and shouted to Diane, “Come on, let’s go!”
Diane wouldn’t open the door, so Simon stepped back, then bashed the door open with his shoulder. Diane, holding the knife in front of her, screamed for him to get the hell away.
Ignoring the knife, he said, “Just come on,” and grabbed her other hand. He started to pull her toward the front door when they both stopped suddenly, horrified by what they saw in front of them.
Olivia was facing them, but it wasn’t Olivia anymore. There was thick dark hair on her face, neck, and arms—some of the hair was still growing—and she had big sharp teeth and her hands were thick and hairy with large claws. Simon stared at her as if he were staring at a gruesome accident—with a combination of disgust, fear, and total disbelief.
When he was able to react, it was too late. Olivia had already leaped toward him, knocking him backward, and the back of his head slammed hard against the radiator. He was dazed, disoriented. Diane was screaming, “Help me!” Simon’s vision cleared, and he saw that Olivia had tackled Diane, knocking the knife away, and was on top of her, about to bite into her neck.
Simon charged Olivia, his momentum toppling her off Diane. But she recovered quickly, unfazed, and came at Simon, her sharp claws extended. Simon tried to fight back, but it was pointless. She was pinning him down, digging her claws into his shoulders now. Her long sharp teeth glistened with drool as she growled. Even if Simon hadn’t been completely overpowered, he would have been paralyzed by sheer terror.
