That wasn’t quite what happened.
I came into the old part of Loralin that morning, where the buildings were rundown but the shops quirky. Back home, it wasn’t often I visited a town in Canada—we were taught to stay in the woods unless you were a job-holder. I had been a worker once but not for very long. I was a born huntress, an alpha female.
Being in this town had, to my surprise, fascinated me.
I watched, possibly a little too intensely, as a short human girl with glasses and purple nails made me a mocha. I hadn’t had one since I was a pup, and Ms. Purple Nails here sure made them different than my mom. Nonetheless, it tasted delicious, as did the strange, turkey-bacon thing I bought.
Curiosity prolonged my stay. I walked through art shops full of paintings and pottery, boutiques with strange and colorful clothes, and an assortment of junk stores, all of which held items that engrossed and confused me. Who knew humans needed so much stuff? I even bought a magazine about famous humans. Rex popped up in the back of my mind, scolding me for spending his money on useless, human trash. I didn’t care. In fact, I reveled in knowing my magazine would piss Rex off.
Around five I found myself back at the coffee shop buying one last mocha. I ordered a piece of coffee cake, which didn’t taste like coffee to me. It tasted like sponge cake with sugar, its surface crumbly and sweet. The interior was so soft it melted in my mouth. I loved it. What an incredible day.
Too bad it didn’t end on the same great note.
I sat outside, reading my magazine. Maybe because I’d gotten too comfortable among the humans, I didn’t recognize his smell right away. I continued reading about some young celebrity named Taylor, who had a fey-like face with thick blonde hair. In one hand she held a guitar, her other grasping the hand of a beautiful, golden-skinned boy with dark hair. His name was Taylor, too.
I squinted at their picture, wondering if they were mates. It didn’t look like it—the boy Taylor didn’t look protective enough. He didn’t even look worried. It was almost like he offered her to people, the way he let them come close to her and take pictures. Mom had warned me that human relationships were weird, but I never knew to what extent until now. To my disappointment, the Taylor-Taylor story was the last page. Closing up the magazine, I left it on the table sure some mortal would enjoy reading it. Rolling up the paper my cake had come in, I went inside to toss my trash.
As I came back out, the scent hit me full force, and I remembered its owner. It’s that damn Jared kid! I stilled, sniffing the air.
It wasn’t hard to find him. He was standing on the other side of the street, just before the intersection. His shoulders were all tensed up under his t-shirt. His dark hair waved around his face, wild as the look in his eyes.
I didn’t think twice. I ran.
The sound of car horns echoed through the town. That’s all I needed to hear to know he’d ignored traffic. He was coming after me. Crap, crap, crap! I raced into the first alleyway I could find. Why did he scare me so much? Maybe it was all those horror stories I’d heard about humans burning and shooting our kind. Maybe because it’d been a long time since I’d been truly afraid of someone. Isn’t there some saying about how when an old feeling reemerges it’s twice as strong?
It didn’t matter. I had to lead this punk, whether human or paranormal, away from sight, to end this once and for all.
The smell of mold and fast food filled my nose. The alleyway took a sharp turn, and I was in the back of a restaurant. I stopped, lungs heaving. I whipped my head around, searching for a hiding place. An old apartment complex towered into the sky on my right. Narrow windowsills dotted the brick wall. Could I climb up them without falling?
Footsteps thudded against the pavement, coming down the alley.
I didn’t have a choice. With a running start, I jumped onto the restaurant’s garbage bins. From there, I sprang for a windowsill, catching the ledge and pulling myself up. My feet barely fit on the sill’s surface, my heels hung off the edge. I didn’t dare look down, for heights weren’t a favorite of mine. I climbed until I was ten feet off the ground. The window I wanted had curtains drawn on the other side. No one would see me.
Cramming myself against the grimy glass, I waited.
Jared came shooting around the corner. Confusion flitted across his face. He came to a halt, standing just below me.
I held my breath, feeling my nails extend. If I jumped now, I could drill them right into the back of his skull. It might be my only chance. If he turned or happened to glance up, I’d be in trouble.
Do it, do it, the animal in me chanted. I ran my tongue along the sharp canines in my mouth. If my claws missed or didn’t hit right, I had a nice pair of incisors to finish the job. I rocked forward on the ledge, holding the sides of the window. He turned his back, becoming a perfect target.
Why wasn’t I jumping?
What the hell is wrong with me? Twice now I’d hesitated, and both times he’d been right in range. He was a punk! He was a problem that could easily turn into a disaster. This kid needed to be eliminated for the sake of myself, for the sake of my pack, just in case he knew something. Humans that knew about us always brought danger into the woods. He had to go.
Jared spun around, eyes locking onto my ledge. Nice, Ilume. I’d just lost my target and now he knew where I was. The fury boiled up inside me. Are you a wolf or aren’t you? I jumped, claws out, aimed right for his face.
Jared ducked. His arms came up, catching me around the waist. He flipped me over like a karate stick, my head nearly grinding the pavement. I twisted in his arms, releasing a feral snarl. He had a strong grip for a mortal. His hands worked quickly, and before I could take a bite out of his side he slammed me to the ground, his legs and hands pinning mine flat.
“What are you?” he demanded, arms jittering as they held me down. “Fox maiden? Skinwalker?”
“You’re getting warmer,” I grunted. I pushed against him with all my strength, but he barely budged. God, this kid was an iron weight!
“Then what is it?” His grip grew firmer, cutting the circulation off in my hands and feet. I almost cried out in pain as his fingernails pierced my flesh. Strength wasn’t working for me. I needed another idea, like the element of distraction.
The element of surprise.
I thrust my head up and slammed my lips into his. It worked. His grip slacked. As he pulled away I freed one foot. My knee kicked up between his legs, and he crumpled sideways, spewing profanities.
I rolled over, away from him. I should’ve transitioned but couldn’t risk it, not in the city, Human Central. As I jumped up to flee the alley, fingers latched onto my ankle.
“You’re not getting away from me this time!” Jared launched himself at me. “Sorry, lady, you won’t be walking these streets again until you’re tagged.”
“Newsflash, punk,” I growled, trying to shake him off. So that’s what he wanted. He wanted to tag me like a freaking farm cow. “You can’t tag a werewolf.” Before he could wrench me to the ground, I folded my fingers and punched him in the back of the head. Hard.
Jared made a loud, pained noise. His hold on me loosened. I pulled my ankle free as his head slumped to the ground. He lay there on his stomach, still at last.
It’s over. I’d won fair and square. I wondered if he was really dead. He might not be. With the tip of my flat shoe, I nudged his shoulder. Oh, yeah. He was out. Dropping to my knees, I rolled him over so I could watch his chest.
He was still breathing.
Damn. My nails dug into my palms. While I’d thrown a hard hit, it hadn’t been hard enough. Some strange, small part of me was relieved. I’d never killed a human before. Bad things happen to wolves who murder humans. What do I do now? He could still be a problem when he wakes up. I was going back to Canada today, but I’d be running, not taking a train. Could he track me? I’d se
en him three times now, which meant he probably could. And he had knowledge of skinwalkers, fox maidens.
Great. No way could I leave him here. He’ll have to go with me.
“Fantastic,” I muttered. Grabbing him by the arms, I hoisted him against me. It was not an easy job, peeling him off the ground, even though I was one of the strongest females in the pack. With a grunt, I heaved him over my shoulder. I’d have a serious back condition by the time this was over.
Taking it slow and easy, I slipped out the back way to avoid town. Once I made it out of civilization, I could shift, making it a lot easier to carry Mr. Iron Man here.
They’re going to freak. I imagined Rex’s face when he discovers that his mate-to-be has come home with a mortal. He’ll throw a fit. The pack would riot and insist we roast this kid on a spit or something.
Something felt off about this human. As I crept out into the sunset, I knew the real reason why I hadn’t sliced him. He wasn’t your normal teenager, and I wanted to find out why.
Chapter Ten—Jared
My head was exploding.
Not once—never ever in my seventeen years—had I endured a headache of this size. It was the king of all migraines, and for a moment I wondered if I was dying. Was my skull torn open? Were my brains coming out of my ears? That nasty little mutt could throw one hell of a punch. Maybe I had a concussion.
I rolled over, and at the same time so did my stomach. Groaning, I kept my eyes closed. Oh, God. Please don’t puke. I can’t be sick. I needed to get up and go home. Had to regroup, track her down.
It was then that the odor of forest and canine returned, only worse. Way worse. Maybe I’d knocked something loose in my brain after all, because Mya’s smell had been multiplied by five, six.
“Lume,” someone spoke to my left. “He’s waking.”
“What?” A feminine voice said. It sounded like Mya.
I forced my eyes open, braving all the fuzzy figures. The fog slowly cleared. I looked up through steel bars at Mya’s face. She stood beside a well-built, shirtless, black boy. He scowled at me.
Oh, no.
I hadn’t been kidnapped . . . had I?
No, no, no. Wincing, I turned my head. Coniferous trees towered around us, their tips waving back and forth in the grey sky. What time was it? What day was it? Trickling noises, like the sounds of running water, echoed in the distance. This was definitely not anywhere near the alley.
A mansion nestled against the woods off to my right. With its peeling paint and rusty gutters, it could’ve made the Guinness World Record for ugliest mansion in America. Duct tape covered a missing window. Moss thrived on the porch and railing.
On the porch steps more of them gathered, three other shirtless boys and a woman with hair like Mya’s dark rippling waves. They sat like mannequins, their blinking eyes the only evidence that they weren’t made of plastic.
A monster shiver went down my spine. Holy mother of pearl, I had been kidnapped! Oh, hell. I sat up, only to have the world spin out of control. The nausea returned. I hated feeling this sick—it was like a really bad hangover. Pressing my head between my legs, I prayed the acid would leave my throat.
“He doesn’t look that special, Ilume.” Black boy eyed me as he spoke. His scowl toned down to a frown as he observed me. He snorted before adding, “He looks like another mortal jock to me.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge, Aspen.” Mya approached my cage, looking down at me like I was a rat in an experiment.
I stared at her. She had stolen me. Knocked me out cold, then—instead of running off—lugged me out of the alleyway, dragged me from town, and brought me to her pack; and not a pack of fox maidens or skinwalkers. Oh no. I remembered what she’d said in the alley.
This was a pack of werewolves.
She smiled a little as I sneered. “I’ve never met a boy that could leave a nymph encounter unscathed. Nymphs will chow down on any human flesh that comes as close as he did. And he can track me. I think he follows scents just like we do.”
Aspen crossed his arms, bored. He glanced over his shoulder, into the woods. “You better be ready to defend your case when Rex gets here. The second he sees this kid he’s going to knock over a tree. I can’t believe you brought this here.”
Whoa, did he just call me this? Like I was some sort of inanimate object?
“No, he won’t.” Something dark settled in Mya’s eyes. “Trust me, I know. What was I supposed to do? Let him run loose with all that knowledge? Little punk would’ve followed me here anyway.”
Aspen didn’t comment. Maybe because he knew she was right—I would’ve. He shook his head and started toward the porch, muttering something about how he didn’t want to be here when somebody called Rex showed up.
Rex must be the alpha, I thought. Just like regular wolf packs, werewolves are run by a head male and female. I slumped against my cage bars, letting the depression sink in. Could I have been any stupider? I should’ve called Peter or the twins, someone for backup. You don’t jump into a dark hole before at least estimating how far the fall is, right? Like an idiot, that’s exactly what I had done. I took off after an unknown, untagged Otherworlder.
And she turns out to be a werewolf.
Mya watched me. To avoid saying something nasty—which, seriously, I wanted to, but it would probably get me into more trouble—I asked, “How long have you all been here?”
Her eyes narrowed. It didn’t seem like she would answer. “A while. A deadly disease swept through this area in the forties. It did a lot of damage to our numbers.”
“Oh.” I’d heard about the disease, studied it in history.
In the 1940s, a breakout of canine distemper swept the northwest and moved up through Canada. It spread quickly, wiping out a handful of wild dogs, including Otherworlder canines. That’s why I hadn’t suspected her of being werewolf—any of the remaining packs reside in the Canadian forests. Today, the Canadian PIU has tagged only one: the Red Tails, which are miles away near Washington. While both their government and ours are aware of another pack called the Jackals, no one could locate them and we don’t know much. To come across a werewolf was extremely rare.
“How do you know about us?” Mya demanded.
I zoned back into reality. “Um.” Should I tell her? “I just . . . do.”
She growled.
“Ilume.” The black-haired woman on the porch straightened up. Her jaw was tight as she focused on something behind us.
Mya—that wasn’t her real name, was it?—snapped her head to the side, sniffing the air. I smelled it, too: fur, fresh kill, and muddy water. My ears perked at the sounds of heavy, loping steps. We had some big feet coming through the woods (never a good sign when you’re caged and weaponless).
Shadows moved among the pine. Two bulky men emerged, leading the way. One was young—probably my age—the other in his forties. They were both totally ripped, the kind of guys I avoided whether at school or in the clubs. We were talking eight-packs, not six, with arms that could throw you to China. Pretty scary. The boy bringing up the rear wasn’t any better.
If you crossed a wrestler with one of those dudes on the walls at Hollister, you’d get the pack’s alpha. I knew that’s who he was, and it wasn’t just from the name Rex tattooed down his arm in big, jagged print. As he hit the wood’s edge, the older guy and the teenager stepped aside, moving in rhythm like electronic doors. Rex strode through them, blonde head held high as he stepped into the clearing.
The boys on the porch stood up. Quietly, they opened the torn screen door and slipped inside. The woman stayed on the steps. Her golden face went pale as she watched the alpha male approach Mya—er—Ilume.
Rex was barely five feet out of the trees when he came to a halt. His nose twitched, inhaling. I swear his blue eyes went black. His lips peeled back, rev
ealing a pair of sharp fangs, like a nightling’s, only shorter. So now I’d not only seen Guinness’s ugliest mansion, I also witnessed the world’s most malicious look. Rex moved quicker toward Ilume.
Toward me.
I leapt to the back of the cage as he stopped, towering over us like a bear. “What in the hell is this?” he raged. Grabbing the iron bars, he glowered at me.
I could face dragons, but pissed off werewolves? Trust me, they are worse. They don’t do quick and silent deaths, not to enemies, and they aren’t slow-movers. They are man-eaters, beasts that will eat you—or even their own kind—alive.
I about wet my jeans.
“Rex.” Ilume kept calm, unlike me. “Before you throw a tantrum, let me explain—”
“What is there to explain?” His voice echoed off the trees, the house. “You brought a human here? A human? God forbid, Ilume, I send you among mortals for a few short days and you’ve lost your mind.”
“If you would let me say something, you’d see why I did it,” she retorted, stretching on her tiptoes. She was all up in his grill, her nose just inches from his. Damn, she was brave.
Rex puffed up, looking even bigger than before. She’s a goner, I thought. Then, to my surprise, he deflated. “All right,” he grumbled. “Speak.”
Ilume took a breath, dropping back on her heels. “Thank you,” she huffed. Facing me, she continued, “This boy has been following me since I arrived in Loralin. He not only survived an encounter with water nymphs, he walked away from them completely untouched. Not a scratch.”
Rex lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?” He actually sounded interested.
“Yes.” Ilume nodded, going on to tell him how I can track her, how I found her at the coffee shop. By the time she finished, Rex had gone from irate to curious. Rubbing his smooth, bronze chin he crouched by my cage bars, staring long and hard.
Predator Girl (A Paranormal Romance) Page 5
