Masquerade

by Cambria Hebert

  He tore himself away and put some distance between us.

  I put a hand to my tender lips.

  “I know what happened to you.”

  My hand fell away. “What do you mean?”

  “Your attack. I know who did it.”

  “You know who attacked me? You know why my face is like this?” Denial – sharp and strong bit through me. He didn’t know. How could he? If he did he would have known something, he would have told me. He knew how much that night haunted me. He knew that I looked over my shoulder everywhere I went. He knew that I was frightened of every shadow that appeared when the sun went down.

  He nodded. “There are people out there who aren’t completely human.”

  “Why are you saying these things?” My head was swimming; he was saying things that made no sense. First, he says that he knew what happened to me, and then he says something completely ridiculous. Was he trying to be cruel? If he knew how my face got destroyed why wouldn’t he just say it? This is not funny. This is not a game.

  The hazel of his eyes smoldered, and I couldn’t look away, even though I was completely terrified. “Some people can’t help how they are born.”

  I hated the tortured look on his face, the overwhelming sense of loss that was permeating the room. I wanted to go to him. To touch him. To feel him. But I was too afraid to get that close. He was scaring me.

  “I made choices that hurt you. Choices I regret…” his voice broke. “I never asked for any of this.”

  “If you know what happened to me – then spit it out! Tell me!” The only way he would know about my attack was if he was there…if he had been involved. I wanted to gag. He couldn’t have done this to me. I trusted him.

  “It was my family.” His eyes begged for forgiveness.

  “Your family?” I squeaked. My mind was racing and I couldn’t form a thought. He never talked about his family; he’d said he didn’t have one.

  He’d lied.

  “Yes.” He pushed his hands through his hair.

  I shook my head trying to clear it, he wasn’t making sense. “I don’t understand.” He couldn’t have done this to me. The marks on my skin were made by an animal. I was almost positive. In my dream something heavy and warm had pressed me down. I felt sharpness of claws and heard the inhuman sounds it made. No, I hadn’t been attacked by Sam. I had been attacked by an animal.

  “I’m not like you,” he bit out.

  “You’re not?” An echo of his earlier words floated through my head. There are people out there who aren’t completely human. I swallowed past the bile rising in my throat. I wanted to sit down, but sitting made me feel vulnerable. I couldn’t let myself feel any more vulnerable right now that I already did.

  “No. I’m different.”

  “Are you telling me that you aren’t human, Sam?” The words felt wrong coming out of my mouth. How could he not be? I’d felt his heartbeat. I’d touched his warm, rough skin and felt his chest expand with air when he cradled me against him.

  He flew across the room and grabbed the mask on my face and tore it away. I flinched and stumbled away, his sudden anger and violence scared me. I stared at the pieces of the broken mask as they fell to the floor. I had a feeling that my heart was going to look like my mask very soon. “They did that to you!” Sam yelled. “That woman in the bathroom, she did that! She isn’t human. Neither am I!”

  Any other time I would have cowered. I put a finger up to my puckered scars. The source of all my pain. “You did this to me? How?”

  He unbuttoned his tux jacket and tossed it on the bed. Then he undid his tie, shirt, white T-shirt and belt, tossing everything on the bed.

  “What are you doing?” I couldn’t help but look at the door; he was standing in my way.

  His pants joined his other clothes, and I began to panic once more. I backed up as far away from him as I could get. Why was he taking off his clothes? What was he going to do to me? Too soon, my back hit the wall. I reached around behind me and grabbed fistfuls of the heavy curtains that framed the large sliding door. I was searching for anything that would anchor me – that would keep me from collapsing in fear. Then it dawned on me that I should be looking for a weapon.

  The very fact that I needed a weapon to protect myself from Sam was enough to make me hysterical. I released the curtains and grabbed up a heavy brass lamp from the desk. I held it up high, over my head. “Don’t come near me. I’ll use this.”

  The thought of hitting him with anything made hot tears spill over onto my cheeks. But I would do it. I was tired of being scared all the time, and in that instant, I decided I would never be helpless ever again.

  “Just watch for a second,” he pleaded with me, making no move to come closer. He pretended that he didn’t even see me wielding a lamp. Was I that unthreatening then? Another violent shudder wracked my body, and I nearly dropped the lamp.

  I glanced to the side at the sliding door. It led out onto a small balcony. I wondered how far down it was and if I would survive the jump.

  “Don’t run.” He said, his voice going deeper than it ever had before.

  I shook my head. Given the first chance I would run like hell.

  “I mean it, Heven. Please, stay and give me a chance to explain.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t help but stare at the strong angles of his body. The rippling bronze muscles of his chest and arms. He was so utterly beautiful. How could anyone so gorgeous not be human – not be made by God? I forced my thoughts away from his beauty. Beautiful or not, if he came at me, I was going to have to hurt him. I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way of my safety.

  Some strange sounds drew my attention, and I looked over to Sam. Or…what I thought was Sam. He was hunched over, his face pulled taunt in pain, and it seemed as though his body was tearing itself apart.

  There were horrible sounds. A sharp, popping sound that echoed through my ears, and every time something popped, his limbs seemed to sag lower from their sockets. There was a terrible ripping sound, and Sam arched his back, the muscles in his jaw flexing. My hand flew to my mouth as I stared in horror as his body ripped itself apart. I whimpered; the sound was terribly weak compared to the sounds of Sam’s destroyed body.

  He dropped onto hands and knees, his arms looking like Jell-O. This weakness made me wonder if maybe I would be able to escape. Then, he looked at me. His eyes were hard and glowing. The gold that sometimes streaked through his eyes seemed to catch on fire and light up. It burned through his stare and his eyes changed…turned. They weren’t Sam’s eyes anymore, they were the eyes of an animal – a predator.

  I screamed and threw the lamp. It hit the bed and bounced away. I ran toward the glass doors and began tugging on the handle, trying to open them. They were locked. I was trapped. Think! I began searching for the lock, trying to see where to unlatch the door.

  “You promised!” Sam yelled. His voice was not his own. It was deep and the words vibrated my bones. “Wait!”

  The last word he yelled came out as an inhuman growl and I froze. I recognized that sound. I’d heard it in my dreams. Slowly, on shaking knees, I turned.

  Sam stared at me, and the rest of his form seemed to fall away. His face transformed, elongating, widening. He made a sound like he was in pain and his back arched up like a cat. He stretched out his arm – only it wasn’t an arm any longer.

  It was a paw.

  And it was covered in black fur.

  Razor sharp claws shot out of the ends and flexed, ready to attack.

  Black fur seemed to spout over his entire body, and I watched – terrified – yet morbidly fascinated as his ears disappeared and sprouted up higher on the top of his head. They stood up in angry triangles, reminding me of my old neighbor’s Doberman pinscher.

  Then his ears flattened against a giant head and a horrible sound ripped from between its teeth. Teeth that were so long that they stuck out from beneath its black gums and hung forth in promise of harm.

  “Shit!” I sc
reamed and renewed my search of the lock with force. I finally found it and yanked, the door giving way and the cool night air rushed in around me. I tripped running out the door, my dress catching beneath me. I tugged at it and got up, reaching for the balcony rails. My hands closed around them, and I sobbed in relief. I didn’t even bother to look down because I didn’t care how long the drop was. I would take my chances.

  I would rather die down there than be eaten alive up here.

  I hurried to climb on the railing as I heard a commotion behind me. I held my arms out and stepped off, closing my eyes and waiting to fall.

  Instead, strong jaws caught hold of the length of my gown and yanked me backwards. I fell, but arms caught me. Black furry arms. I screamed when I saw the claws so close to my skin. I fought. I kicked and struggled. I punched and clawed. It didn’t matter. This thing was so much bigger than me. I was going to die.

  I found myself on my feet as the animal walked, on two legs, back to the other side of the room. He was so much scarier on two legs than four. He towered over me this way, and I knew that even trying to kick him would be stupid. My foot wouldn’t even reach its waist. At least when he was on all four I had a chance at kicking and hitting it in the face.

  I made a move back toward the door and he – it – Sam – growled. I froze and turned back. It dropped to all fours and sat down. I took a minute to fully stare at it. In a way it was beautiful – scary as hell – but beautiful. The black fur that covered its body was sleek and shiny. It had the grace of a giant cat and a long whip-like tail. Its eyes were hauntingly gold, and they blinked as if waiting to see what I would do.

  It kind of looked like a panther. A giant, ‘kick your ass; eat your mom’, kind of panther. Except its teeth were bigger, its eyes were meaner, and it was huge. “Sam?” I whispered.

  It made a sound and lay down.

  A sob tore from my throat, and I let it out, it hurt. This hurt.

  He was a beast.

  As tears leaked from my eyes, thoughts of despair and disbelief ripped through me. This thing…this beast…was the boy I thought I loved. How could I have spent so much time with him, loved him and never sensed this?

  “Are you a werewolf?” I asked, not even believing that I was standing here asking such a ridiculous question. This stuff didn’t exist. This wasn’t some bad horror movie where the girl ran screaming up the stairs instead of out into the night. Well, I had tried to run into the night, and I was dragged back into this room. By teeth. How could I deny what was right in front of me? “Are you?” I asked again, watching the beast warily.

  He shook his head.

  Then what the hell was he?

  Suddenly, he shot into the bathroom. I heard the same popping and tearing as before. I imagine the pain on his face that I has witnessed earlier and felt a pang of sadness. That little pang pissed me off. I shouldn’t feel bad for him. I should be feeling bad for me! He was the reason that I was disfigured. He was the reason my life was torn apart, and I was haunted by nightmares and pain. Screw him! I was leaving.

  I went to the hotel room door and threw the lock and opened the door.

  “Heven, please wait.” Sam begged mere inches behind me.

  I turned. He was there, and he was the Sam I knew. At least, he was the Sam with the body I knew. He wasn’t wearing anything but a towel around his waist. I looked away from his rippling, corded muscles. I would not be distracted by his golden good looks.

  “I’m leaving. I never want to see you again.”

  “You can’t leave,” he said softly. Gently he reached around me and shut the door.

  I allowed it, transfixed by his rich, deep voice. And because part of me wanted to hear what he was going to say. I mean a girl didn’t find out her boyfriend – her ex-boyfriend – wasn’t human every day.

  “If you touch me I will scream my head off.” I told him.

  “I won’t touch you.” He said, watching me walk across the room. He grabbed up his clothes and went back into the bathroom.

  I watched him go feeling like everything I ever believed had been a lie.

  I was sitting on the bed when he came back out of the bathroom. He was fully dressed, wearing black tuxedo pants and the white button up shirt. The sleeves were rolled to the elbows and the buttons at the throat were undone showing a patch of smooth tan skin. He was wearing socks and shoes, and it gave me the feeling that he was ready to run me down if I tried to escape again.

  I rubbed my temples. I was so going to be late for curfew. I looked up when I saw movement. Sam knelt down in front of me, his hands reached out, but he dropped them when I stiffened. He fell backward to sit on the floor.

  “You have some major explaining to do.” I said, weary.

  “Where do you want me to start?” The words rumbled from his chest, and he looked up in my eyes, his face was open and truthful.

  “Why don’t you start by telling me exactly what you are.”

  Sam

  She wants to know what I am. I guess I should be grateful that she’s still here and listening instead of still fighting and clawing to get away. The sight of her face as she watched me change was heart wrenching. It was more painful than the transition itself. She was horrified. She was literarily shaking with fear so much that she tried to jump off a balcony seven stories high.

  I’d driven the girl I love to suicide. Talk about a punch in the gut.

  She’ll never love me now.

  I sank back onto my butt and leaned against the wall. I wanted to reach out and touch her. I wanted her to stop looking at me like I was a complete stranger.

  I wasn’t going to get what I wanted.

  So, I would settle for giving her what she wants. Answers.

  “I’m a hellhound.”

  She stared at me for long moments. It almost looked like she was deciding whether or not to believe me. “A hellhound?” she finally asked.

  I nodded. “There’s so few of us left, saying we’re almost extinct is an understatement.” In fact, I hadn’t even known they existed until I changed into one a few years ago.

  “You never told me. You lied to me.” She accused, her blue eyes flashing up to mine. I knew she would be angry, but her anger was still like a slap in the face.

  “I didn’t have a choice, Hev.”

  “No?” she snapped. “You always had a choice. You could have told me the truth.” She jumped off the bed and began to pace. Her shoulders were tense, and I couldn’t help but stare at the hemline of her dress. It was torn.

  “What was I supposed to say?” I asked, staying sitting on the ground. I wanted to pace the room like she was to walk off some of my anxiety, but I was afraid if I got up I would frighten her. “Was I just supposed to walk up to you and say ‘you don’t know me, but I’m a hellhound, and someone is trying to kill you?’”

  “Someone wants to kill me?” She stopped cold and turned, her eyes wide. I could actually see some of the anger drain out of her.

  “Yes. It’s what I’m trying to say. You’re in danger.”

  “That woman tonight…she’s involved?”

  “Yes, that’s China. She’s the one…she’s the one that attacked you that night. The night you can’t remember.”

  “How do you know this?” she asked, tension building up around her.

  I swallowed. “Because I was there.”

  Her entire body stilled. She was calculating my words, deciding what they meant. There was only one conclusion. I did this to her, or that I was an accomplice.

  All of a sudden it’s like a fire started within her. Her hands balled to fists at her sides, and she speared me with a look. “You’re telling me this now? Is this some kind of twisted joke? It took me a long time to make some semblance of a life for myself after my attack. My entire life was destroyed. I was destroyed. Just when I had my life figured out you came along and changed everything again. You made me care about you, you made me feel like I could have a real life again. And now you drag me up to some hotel
room and change into a beast in front of me and then you tell me that everything between us had been a lie, that you, you of all people, Sam, were the one that destroyed my life in the first place!”

  She was practically hyperventilating, her breaths were coming in short gasps, and her face was turning red. Alarmed I jumped to my feet. I promised her I wouldn’t touch her, and I wanted to honor that promise, but I couldn’t stand to see her this way.

  “I’m leaving!” She yelled and ran for the door.

  I lunged after her, she couldn’t leave. People out there wanted her dead, and I had to protect her. I wrapped my arms around her waist and towed her away from the door, back into the room. She turned and shoved me, both hands slamming into my shoulders. “Get away from me.”

  “Stop it, I need to talk to you, there are things you need to hear.” I reached for her again and she slapped my hands away.

  “I hate you!” She yelled as she rushed forward and began hitting my chest with the sides of her clenched fists. “I hate you for this!”

  I let her pound me, I deserved it, and she needed to get out her anger. Because I still had to talk, and she still had to listen. And because I hated myself too.

  After a few minutes of her hitting me she collapsed against my chest and sobbed. I was afraid to put my arms around her so I just stood there, my hands at my sides and shaking with the need to touch her while she cried hot tears all over me.

  When her sobs became hiccups, she whispered, “I thought you loved me.”

  I groaned and wrapped my arms around her. “I do. More than anything.”

  My voice or my touch seemed to break through her emotion, and she stiffened and yanked herself away. “Don’t touch me.”

  I held up my hands in surrender and took a few steps back.

  She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and her make-up smeared, leaving black streaks against her pale skin. “I don’t want to see you again.”

  “That’s too bad, you don’t have a choice.”