by B. F. Simone
She stood up and stepped back towards the door. She could make it inside before he came closer. This was what she’d been waiting for. The paranoia she’d had. It was for him.
He shook his head still smiling.
She took another step and everything went black. A bag was thrown over her head and tied around her neck.
She clawed at the fabric but pulling it apart was useless.
“Help.” The words were muffled as a fist smashed into her ear. Her head blossomed into pressure-filled pain as she was hoisted up against a large body. They were running with her and fast.
Her legs buckled under her. They burned against snow and cement road. She was being kidnapped. She wasn’t even on the porch anymore, she was out on the street.
“Help,” she screamed. She heard the click of a car door. She wasn’t going to let someone take her. She kicked her legs out, but it didn’t stop her attackers. She called on her power but nothing came. She couldn’t concentrate. She was tossed in the air, a free fall, until her body crashed against metal.
Doors slammed and she felt the roar of an engine underneath her.
“Go. Go!”
“Help,” she screamed tasting blood.
A hand collided with her throat. Still, she kicked and punched into the darkness. They weren’t going to take her without a fight. If she was going to die she was going to take a piece of them with her.
The van skidded forward at a high-speed.
This was it. She was going to die.
“Hold on to something. I’m going to crash the van,” Tristan’s voice said in her mind. A spark of hope spread through her like wild fire. She felt for something in the darkness. Anything to hold onto, but it was too late. She flew, suspended in the air, and slammed against a body.
The screeching of metal filled her ears as she was propelled forward until jerked again, like a rag doll, backward into another body.
She reached for the back of her neck and pulled the bag loose ripping it off her head. She was in the back of van that was on it side. She scrambled for doors, but was yanked back. The bearded man squeezed her leg, and she kicked him in the face freeing her leg.
The door wrenched open before she touched it.
Tristan. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the van.
“Behind you,” she shouted. A man the size of a house was behind Tristan and throwing a punch. Tristan ducked it and punched him towards the bottom of his stomach. A liver shot he had taught Katie. The man spasmed as if having a seizure and fell to the ground, face first.
She turned around hearing a muffled scream. A man slid out from the passenger side door and threw himself on the ground. He twitched as his muscles rippled. Before her eyes he transformed.
It was the most horrifyingly majestic thing she had ever seen. He morphed, as if his body was originally created to be a dog. Before she knew it a beast growled at her; haunched on all fours salivating. Murder in its eyes. He was nothing like Mercedes. He was twice the size and his slick silver pelt blended in with the night fog.
“Get away from him,” Tristan yelled as he ran full speed at the beast and she caught a glimpse of his eyes as he past her. His were the same as the animal before her. Murderous.
They collided like thunder. The werewolf snarled as it snapped at Tristan, but Tristan was fast and just barely missed the dagger-like canine teeth.
She heard shuffling behind her and turned. She threw a punch straight into the stomach of the man who had abducted her. He was strong, but she had learned to hit the major arteries.
However, she didn’t expect him to take the hit. Not directly. He back handed her and knocked her off balance. She tried to regain her footing, but wasn’t prepared to take a hit in the stomach.
He threw her to the ground and pinned his knee into her back, pressing her rib cage farther down. She burned throughout her body. She could barely breathe. Her face stung, scraping against hard ice and road.
Another muffled scream sounded by the van. The bearded man was morphing. He growled as he completed the transformation and looked from the limp body of his comrade to her. He moved towards Tristan and the grey wolf.
She turned back to Tristan and he yelled out in pain. He grabbed onto his limp arm. She panicked. What happened to his arm?
Tristan pulled out a knife as he dodged a set of teeth that would have torn him apart. He found an opening.
He ducked under it’s mouth, as it launched a second time, and jammed his foot into its front leg, snapping it backward. The wolf howled as Tristan moved to its back leg and broke the bone.
“Tristan,” she shouted. The second wolf ran towards him.
Tristan ran dead at it. What was he doing? She expected them to collide, but instead Tristan held out his knife and threw himself on his back. The wolf, unable to stop, ran over Tristan and the knife. It slammed on its side spewing blood as it collapsed, not moving.
Tristan stood up drenched in blood. His blue eyes steadied on the man on top of her.
The pressure on her back lifted but she was pulled against the man and felt cold metallic on her head. Why was this happening to her again. She tried harder to fight against him.
“Make one move and—”
A gun shot cracked through the air and she was released. Warm blood coated the top of her head. Tristan pulled her toward him and she spun around to see her capture fall to his knees and her dad just behind him.
“What happened?” a man said, jogging up to them. She gulped trying to fill her lungs up with air. The street was filling up with men and women with guns and curious faces. Questions and gasp filled the air as people looked between the dead wolf, the incapacitated wolf, and the the dead man. Their eyes traveled to her, barely able to hold herself in the up right position and Tristan dripping in the wolf’s blood.
“What happened?” the man said again.
“Back up, Peter,” her dad said to the man while, staring at Tristan.
“They kidnapped me. I was on the porch and they threw a bag over my head and put me in that van.” Katie pointed to the van. She hadn’t noticed before, but there were shards of glass all over the ice covered road and a large concave dent in the middle of the van, and the fence across the street was busted through. “Tristan saved me.”
“So this was your doing,” a tall burley man said, stepping out from the crowd. Jim Heckler, from the christmas party and the board. Mr. Heckler pointed at Tristan.
Tristan didn’t answer. He ignored the man and completely turned to her. His arm was still limp and he held it. Close to him.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m alive. How’s your arm?”
“I’ll live.”
Mr. Heckler shouted orders for groups to detain the unconscious man, sedate the snarling but immobile werewolf, and he spat for people to clean up the blood covered street and the butchered wolf that lay in the middle of it.
Lucinda’s truck sped up the road toward them. She flew out of the car like a hurricane.
“Don’t wait until it turns back. Just get rid of it now before someone sees it,” Heckler said.
“Turns back?” Katie said.
“Yes,” her dad said, while checking her for injury. “While dying a wolf transforms back into a man again. It usually takes a little bit of time. But if it hasn’t changed back yet, I don’t think it will,” her dad said, staring at the mass of slick brown fur. Her dad and Mr. Heckler had said “it” not him. As if the body was just the carcass of a dead animal. As if there was no man inside of it.
Katie used her sleeve to wipe the blood off Tristan’s face. He looked like a horror movie. Lucinda was stopped by a few people before she got to them. She checked Katie, even though her dad had just finished looking her over. Katie’s dad grunted, annoyed as Lucinda questioned him. “Did you check her pupils? There’s blood on her head.”
“She’s okay, Lucy”
“We better get you checked out just in case. You too, Tristan. That arm—all of yo
u looks bad.”
“Hold it,” Mr. Heckler said. There were still a few spectators, but no one looked surprised at the existence of werewolves, just the appearance of them so close to home.
“Jim.” Lucinda warned.
“Look, Lucy. I’m not judging you for your choice of house guest, but this,” he gestured to the wolves. “This is inexcusable.”
“You say that as if it’s their fault.” Katie’s dad said. “She was nearly taken. They did what they had to do.”
Mr. Heckler turned his attention to Tristan. “Why didn’t you call security? We have procedures for situations like this.”
“Do your procedures include letting three werewolves snatch a girl off her porch?”
Mr. Hecklers face turned purple. Spit flew out of his mouth as he spoke. “Innocent people could have been on these streets.”
“Well you should have been protecting them. You have procedures for situations like this.”
Mr. Heckler moved toward Tristan but thought better of it. “Watch it boy. As far as I’m concerned you’re the reason they were on this street!”
“He saved my life,” Katie said, feeling her own rage. Her heart still pounded from hearing a gun go off so close to her head.
“We wouldn’t have let anything happen to you. We would have—"
“Done nothing. I was in the back of that van. I was as good as dead without him. You didn’t even have the decency to show up until it was all over. Those wolves could have killed us.” She didn’t know if the fire she felt was from her pain or anger. How dare they blame him for what happened. How dare they look at him like he was a monster. Like he was a halfbreed.
“Enough. Come inside, Katalina,” Tristan said, holding out his blood soaked hand to her.
She grabbed it. The look of pure distain on Mr. Heckler’s face did not go unnoticed. “The school does not look kindly upon discrepancies like this. We have procedures.”
“Bigot,” she shouted at him. Mr. Heckler stiffened and the street fell silent. All eyes were on her. The same expressions from the Christmas party. Shock, horror, and disgust.
“Excuse me?”
She couldn’t stop herself. Tears fell freely and she was engulfed in such a rage it shook her aching body. Tristan had saved her. And yet they all looked at him like he was the threat. What if they knew she was a halfbreed? Would they have even cared to save her?
Mr. Heckler stepped to her sensing her disgust for him. He dared her to say it again.
She wanted to shout it to all of them. She dared them to look at her the way they looked at Tristan. She would tear their eyes out.
“Katalina.” Tristan stepped in front of her. “Let’s go,” he caressed her hand with his thumb, smearing blood all over it’s bruised surface.
“He saved me. You would have let me die. Who’s the monster?” she said, before letting Tristan pull her inside.
Even Lucinda stayed frozen in her spot. Possibly, because she knew what Katie really meant…or maybe, because she knew Katie was right.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
They went to her upstairs bathroom. Her dad was right behind them and disappeared into his room and came back with an old shirt and a pair of shorts. He offered to pop Tristan’s shoulder back into place. Katie had to look away.
“Go shower up, you’re scaring everyone.” Her dad said in his usual gruff voice. He was so clam. How was he so calm? “Katie, why don’t you use my bathroom.”
She started the shower. This was the second time. The second time she’d been attacked by people. This time they were werewolves. How had this happened? Why was someone targeting her?
When she got out the shower she changed and went back into her room to get rid of her dirty clothes. Tristan was siting on her bed. Staring at her mirror. He looked a little small in her dads big t-shirt. His hair was still wet from the shower and stuck to his face. She sat next to him. She couldn’t pretend to hate him or be angry, not after what just happened.
“I don’t know why.” Tristan whispered. “I didn’t know them. I swear, I didn’t know them. I don’t know why they tried to take you. I swear—” Tristan’s voice was desperate.
“I’m fine. That’s all that matters.” She said it but, she knew he knew the truth. She was terrified. If it weren’t for him…
“I’d die for you.”
Katie sucked in a breath. Hearing him say that changed something in her. She laid back on her bed and he followed her. He grabbed her hand and held it. He squeezed it and she could feel how close he wanted to be. He didn’t have to let his wall down for her to understand that.
She wanted it. To be in his arms, feeling his warm skin against hers.
He rolled on top of her and her stomach hurt with anticipation. Her breaths couldn’t keep up with the beating of her heart.
He kissed her. His soft lips pressed lightly against hers. He pressed his body harder against her.
Their soft kisses became harder and faster. She couldn’t get enough, and the way he ran his hand up her shirt told her he couldn’t either. The higher his hand went the more her breath caught in her throat. It didn’t help that his lips had moved from hers to her neck.
The tips of his fingers set fire to ever inch of skin they touched. She let out a gasp as he squeezed her. He hovered above her breathing just as hard. He looked crazy, his hair standing up from her hands moving through it, his beautiful blue eyes looking right back at her.
He kissed her lips and ran his hand down her side. When had his body moved in between hers. They were moving in sync. Her shirt lifting higher with his hands. He was going to set fire to her again.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Whatever you’re doing behind this closed door, it’s inappropriate,” her dad said. They sat up and moved to the opposite sides of bed. She tried to straighten out the sheets. The door opened and her dad looked at them. “At least have the decency to get off her bed.”
Tristan shot up and moved to the other side of the room looking like a five year-old caught stealing cookies. Katie was mortified. They were supposed to pretend like they weren’t doing anything. Why did he look so guilty.
She couldn’t keep her hands still. She straightened her shirt out which looked even worse. She could still feel his hands under her shirt and all over her skin. She’d meant to put on a bra when she got out of the shower…she didn’t expect him to be in her room.
Her dad watched them for a moment. Did he know?
He left, but made it a point leave the door wide open.
Tristan kept a three foot gap between them after that. They sat and Katie pulled out a board game. It was silly. Playing monopoly when she was almost kidnapped; when, just moments ago, she was spread out on her bed with him in between her legs. Playing the game kept her hands from shaking, from fear or pure joy she didn’t know. The feelings were almost the same. The way Tristan looked at her, even know as she rolled the dice staring back at him, it set her on fire.
Lucinda called him downstairs, but he hesitated before he stood up. Katie stood up to walk downstairs with him.
He grabbed her and held her so tight she felt like she’d melt into him. The back of her shirt was gripped between his fingers. He kissed her again, hard, before pulling away; but they held hands for a second before they went downstairs.
“I’m going to go home and get a few things. We’ve decided it’s best to stay here for the night. It’s not a coincidence that in the last two months Katie’s been approached,” Lucinda said, grabbing her car keys. Katie almost thought someone should go with her, but when Lucinda stood up, Katie saw the gun strapped to her waist. She still wished her dad would go with her. It would give them at least twenty minutes to see just how far they were willing to go.
Tristan coughed. Loud.
“Was there something you wanted me to grab?”
Tristan shook his head still coughing.
“You’ll be sleeping down here, on that couch,” her dad said, pointing out the couch
to Tristan.
Tristan had guilt written all over his face. It made Katie feel like her dad and Lucinda knew what they’d just done. Katie was too embarrassed to even deny it. She couldn’t even open her mouth to deflect the way her dad was looking between them.
It didn’t matter where her dad wanted him to sleep. They didn’t close their eyes once that night. Katie didn’t know if it was because she was afraid to close her eyes, or if she just wanted the moment to last. They sat at the kitchen table putting together a puzzle. At first it was all four of them. Silently working. Katie never thought she’d see her dad and Lucinda sitting so close without screaming. When they retired, Katie and Tristan stayed working—pretending they actually cared about the puzzle.
When her fingers ached to be interlaced with his, he’d brush his fingers against hers to pick up a puzzle piece. Grab her hand and take the piece she had. Any excuse to touch her—he made her work hard to hold back the mad giggles that were building up.
How long would it last? He still kept his wall up. They were frozen in this time and space. At any moment it was going to crack and they’d have to decide which direction they were going to go in.
She was right. All she had was that night. Nothing was the same after that. Tristan was on thin ice with the school and she was on lockdown. One-hundred percent lockdown. She wasn’t even allowed to go to school. Her dad pulled her out of school on leave and only Traci, Lucinda and Allison were allowed to come over. All at her fathers request. Traci volunteered to grab her books and notebooks out of her locker, brought at least two-tons of classwork, and didn’t read the mood when Katie was too busy wondering why her dad was being such a jerk and banning Tristan from the house.
Her dad went so far as to try and train her. He was miserable, he took breaks every ten-minutes and she felt like she was working him out. Lucinda nagged him until he finally came to his senses and added Tristan to the list of people allowed to enter the house.
