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Colt Harper: Esteemed Vampire Cat

Page 6

by Tyrolin Puxty


  “I don’t want to know how thirsty you are.” Jax grabs his pillow and hugs it, biting his lip. “It’s like… being accused of a crime I didn’t commit and sentenced to life. Surrounded by other monsters repulses me because I don’t see myself as one of you. No… no offense, Colt.”

  “Buddy, I’ve got a date. What kind of wingman talk is that?”

  “Colt…” Jax looks like he’s going to be sick. “It’s happening.”

  “What’s happening?” I ask, dreading the answer. “Buddy? What’s happening?” My voice is getting frantic as I’m torn between staying to help and bolting to safety.

  “Get back!” Jax lowers his voice, convulsing on the bed. Hair sprouts all over his body, his ribs and joints cracking unnaturally.

  “Jax?” I ask. “Bud? What… what you doing?”

  “GET AWAY!” Whoa. His voice is actually demonic. His thin lips disappear and a snout takes its place. His clothes tear away when he grows an extra three feet, bulging muscle showing through his fur.

  His head touches the ceiling, with him on his hind legs, snarling at me. He pants as if he’s run a marathon, the hackles on his neck raised.

  Lexi totters in, munching on crisps, painfully ignorant to the stooping werewolf.

  “Hey, guys, what’s…SWEET FRIED GUTS!” She hurries behind me and digs her nails into my arms. “Colt, do something! Take your monster form!”

  “My monster form is just scented smoke.” I gulp when Jax takes one step closer. “Jax. Stay. Stay! Good boy. You’re going to come with me into the basement. We don’t want to upset Saffy.”

  I involuntarily dry-heave when he growls, his breath reeking of something rotten. And he has a problem with my B.O.?

  He leaps over the top of us and down the hall, ramming into walls as he shoots downstairs on all fours.

  “Oh, crap!” Lexi and I chase after him, my heart sinking when he aims for the front door. “Bad dog! Jax! Jax!”

  He bursts through the entrance, busting the hinges.

  “This is bad, this is very, very bad!” Lexi cuddles her ample chest to stop the incessant bouncing. “This is just like my dog Fenton all over again!”

  “I know it’s bad!” I growl, losing sight of Jax in the dim street.

  “We haven’t even finished our play! We need someone to build the props!”

  “That’s the least of our concerns, Lexi.” I follow the trail of destruction—turned over mailboxes, bent lampposts, shredded bushes. “I think he ran into the woods.”

  “Sounds like the obvious place a wolf would go.”

  “He’s trying to fight it.” I pick up my pace. “He doesn’t want to hurt humans.”

  “Who doesn’t want to hurt humans?” I stop at Brynn’s voice. I turn, and sure enough, she’s behind Lexi, carrying a brown grocery bag. “Are you talking about that nervous fellow?”

  “Yes,” Lexi blurts.

  “No,” I say. Great. We just contradicted one another. That never ends well.

  “So… you are or you aren’t?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say. “We’re practicing lines for our play.”

  “Isn’t your play a romance?” Brynn swaps the bag into her other hand. “Surely you wouldn’t be talking about ‘hurting other humans!’ Doesn’t make an iota of sense.”

  “Look, we’re just going for a stroll before I head to dinner with Saffy.”

  “Oh.” Brynn’s eyes flash. “Yes. Your date.”

  “It’s not a date! She’s hoping I won’t sue you for what you did to me!”

  “You’ve handled worse situations, Colt. More than just a slight knock to the head. That I’m certain of.” Her shift of tone is a little jarring, especially when she perks up. “Well, then! You won’t want to be late! I’ll see you around. Send my regards to Jax… wherever he is.”

  Nose in the air, she heads back to the theater, her hips swaying with each step.

  “Come on.” I grab Lexi by the hand. “We have to get Jax.”

  It’s easier to see in the dark. On the edge of my hearing, I can hear Jax whimpering, but it’s overpowered by Lexi’s wheezing. I hope she never gets sent to the valley. She really wouldn’t be able to hack it.

  “Ah, Colt? I’m not too good at forests. It’s usually where I put my corpses, you know? Yep, yep, the nostalgia is really feeding my urge right now!”

  “Control it!” I hurry over to the werewolf curled by the tree, chewing his own tail. “Buddy, stop that!” I pull his tail from his mouth and stroke his head, even when he growls. “Jax, it’s my fault. I know firsthand what a Bakhtak can do. I should’ve locked you up the instant you told me.”

  He won’t stop trembling, probably because of the adrenaline. That, or he’s scared of himself; a notion I’m becoming familiar with.

  “I don’t know what to do,” I mutter, unsure how to transport an unstable wolf.

  “Oof!” Lexi says, keeping her distance. “That’s one ugly dog!”

  Jax whines, a lone tear trickling down his snout. I feel strangely protective of him in this form. “Cut it out, Lexi,” I snap. “It’s only his form that’s ugly. Too bad you can’t transform to hide your ugliness.”

  “Oh, that cut deep, Colt.” Lexi’s mouth turns downward.

  “You reap what you sow,” I say absentmindedly, taking Jax by the paws to help him stand.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a cool voice warns. I freeze mid-lift and mentally throw fifty-four million obscenities at the obnoxious redhead.

  “It’s part of our play… just got our wolf costumes.” Yeah, and Brynn will totally buy that.

  “He’s a werewolf. I should know. My ex was one.” The leaves crunch beneath her boots when she stalks forward and hits my shoulder. “Let go. He needs these to be transported back to the theater.” She dangles a pair of cuffs.

  “Silver?” I pause. “Won’t that hurt him?”

  “It will burn his little shaggy fur right off!” She beams. “But it’s temporary. We have a cage in the basement.”

  “Seriously?” Lexi’s forehead crinkles. “Why do you have a cage?”

  “It’s an old prop.” I don’t believe Brynn for a second. It’s like she’s saying that to have a dig at my excuse. She slaps the cuffs on Jax’s paws, and he howls as the silver turns red, sizzling into his flesh. Ignoring his whimpers, Brynn pulls him up with superhero strength and pushes him roughly. “Walk, dog. If the town sees you, they’ll just think you’re in costume. Cosplaying, as it were. You monsters always win those con cosplays. Right then! I’ll settle him in until he reverts back to human form. You go enjoy your date now.”

  “Whoa, whoa!” I say, but Brynn keeps walking. “What are you? You know about monsters?”

  “I know about werewolves.” She seems disinterested, only smiling when Jax yelps in pain. “I’m human. Nothing more, nothing less. I’ve traveled an awful lot, and by default, am privy to an awful lot. His secret is safe with me, although I’m still working out what your secret is.”

  “I haven’t got a secret,” I say without much conviction.

  “Sure.” She disappears through the trees. “Don’t disturb me while I set him up. He’ll no doubt go into a blinding rage when he sees the cage. I’ll take care of him.”

  Lexi and I exchange glances and follow Brynn through town, keeping to the shadows. When we reach the theater, Jax howls and Brynn runs her fingers through his fur.

  “The basement is down there.” She motions at a door by the stairway. “You can visit him shortly. He’s complacent while the cuffs are on, but he won’t be for much longer.”

  Grinding my teeth, I study Jax, hoping he can give me some sign. Something screams at me to stay with him… but then again, why would I bother helping the pipsqueak?

  “Fair enough,” I dismiss, and continue upstairs. Lexi hurries after me, wheezing with each step.

  “I’m sick of these stairs! Colt? Hey, Colt? You sure we should leave him?”

  “You can go with him if you lik
e. I have a date.”

  “Isn’t this more important?”

  “Brynn’s human. I can sense it. She won’t be able to hurt Jax.”

  “But she’s got those fancy cuffs, and some weird dungeon thing downstairs!”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions.” I grimace at the guest room, the top bunk crashed on top of Lexi’s bed. “Damn. Guess you’ll be bunking with me. Same bunk, different bed,” I clarify, quick to spoil Lexi’s hopeful gaze.

  Jax’s snot-green shirt remains on the top of his bag, and I feel remarkably bad about borrowing it… for about half a second, before I remind myself to monster up.

  “Please leave,” I say.

  “But… but Jax! And the strange lady with the, erm, wrist necklaces!”

  “Wrist necklace? Do you mean cuffs? You need to carry a damn dictionary. Look, don’t turn me into a broken record. I’m too busy to help Jax. Just chill.”

  Chewing her bottom lip, Lexi shuffles out, fidgeting with the buttons on her cuffs.

  With Jax’s crinkled shirt in hand, I head back to the bathroom.

  I pull off my blue shirt and slap the small mound of belly-fat that most humans seem to have. When I first got this form, Sean had a six-pack and rocking pecks. Milk, blood, and fish pies are far too delicious to maintain that kind of physique. I’ve kept slim, but lost the muscle. Keeping fit is overrated, anyway. Especially when I can find a new form at the drop of a hat.

  I pick up Jax’s shirt, but my reflection just stares at me. Cautiously, I wave, but it doesn’t wave back.

  “Colt,” it says, its sandy eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t leave the theater.”

  “Jesus! I mean, Sean!” I gasp, covering up with the shirt, suddenly self-conscious of my flabby stomach. “How… how are you?”

  “Get out of me!” Sean hisses, the reflection slowly changing to show his former body— intimidatingly ripped and hair trimmed back. “This body isn’t yours! And I repeat, you shouldn’t leave the theater!”

  “Oh yeah?” My voice is surprisingly high. “Watch me. And guess what? I’m going to eat the fattiest meal on the menu and chase it down with Oreos!”

  I throw Jax’s shirt on and dash into the hall and down the stairs, half-expecting Sean to chase me. Only, that’s impossible. I think. I hope.

  You know what? Even if it is possible, I say bring it. I could beat Sean in a fight any day. He’s got a beach body, not a fighting body. I claw, scratch, and kill for a living, so it’s his funeral.

  I stop at the bottom of the stairs, annoyed by the twinkle that’s no doubt sparkling in my eyes.

  Saffy is by the theater doors, dressed in… oh, you are kidding me. A blue dress with frills and spaghetti straps. That deserves a slit throat right there. Maybe I’ll leave a dead bird as a “present” on her bed tonight. Or not. These conflicting emotions remind me of when I used to possess women. It’s not fun.

  “You just get here?” My eyes dart to the basement door.

  “About five seconds ago. Look at us, arriving at the same time. That’s kind of cool, hey?” She seems totally unaware of well… anything, so I won’t bring it up unless she asks. And since neither Jax nor Brynn are wailing in pain, I’m sure everything’s fine.

  “You look… presentable,” I say, trying to keep it cool.

  She smirks, glancing down at my shirt. “I wish I could say the same. Are you going to button up or is this a bohemian style you’re attempting?”

  Awkwardly, I fumble with my buttons. “Ah, this shirt is borrowed. What kind of restaurant are we going to? Seafood? Please?”

  “You don’t want to go the seafood restaurant here. You’ll end up with food poisoning. I thought we’d try the Kitchen? It’s pretty cool, despite the bland name. How’s your head?”

  “Experiencing hallucinations, but I don’t think that’s related to the near-death concussion,” I say jokingly, but I couldn’t be more serious. “All right, shall we dine?”

  “You can’t beat time.”

  – Hmm… Steve.

  hat the hell is this crappy joint? Cool? Really? This is cool? It’s a dive is what it is. Cramped, too. It’s in the same state as the theater, which is to say, below standard health regulations. If a mouse runs past, I can’t be blamed for chasing after it.

  “Isn’t this lovely?” A wide smile lights Saffy’s face. The menu she’s holding is stained and ripped, and the candle between us is just a melted puddle of wax.

  “This is the best place in town, huh?”

  “Not exactly.” She stares at the menu. “But I feel comfortable here. I’m not sure why.”

  Probably because of the peeling wallpaper, the carpet in dire need of vacuuming, and glasses with smeared fingerprints and lipstick marks. Yuck! Let’s just say it: Saffy likes grot.

  “So, tell me a little about yourself,” I say, half-disinterested, half-eager. This whole battling an inner human thing is getting old fast. “Did you grow up here?” (Yawn)

  “No. I was orphaned, left school early… really early, and moved here when I saw a job opening at the theater. It was poor pay, but free accommodation. That’s when I met my half-sister. Hey, if I get a schnitzel, will you finish what I don’t eat?”

  “Oh, I’ll eat anything in this restaurant,” I say, but I’m mostly referring to the patrons. “How did your half-sister come on the scene?”

  “Brynn? She just showed up one day, explained how we were related, and we’ve been semi-close ever since. She moved from Surry to Brisbane to some weird village in Mozambique, and finally settled here a few years ago.”

  I choke on my disgusting tap water. “Brynn is your sister?”

  “Well, half… you can’t choose your family!” She shrugs. “It’s nice to have someone, though. I’ve sort of turned into the town cat-lady, which has a lot of negative connotations.”

  My heart melts. “Cat lady?”

  “Yeah. I foster cats. I’m up to twenty-seven now. Such majestic creatures. I like them better than people sometimes.” She laughs, closes the menu and sips on her water. “Cats always seem to have a secret they’re proud of; I like that. They’re never apologetic of their actions.”

  She’s perfect. She likes cats! Therefore: completely perfect! Except, she’s human. And that’s just gross.

  “Saffy! Third time this week!” The waiter appears, his skin semi-blue, like he’s been hitting blueberry pie a little too hard. “You gonna try something different tonight?”

  Giggling, she hands him the menu. “Hey, Steve. Let’s give the schnitzel a go.”

  “Schnitzel, fantastic choice! And for the gentleman caller… Colt! Is that you?”

  Saffy and I exchange puzzled expressions. I peer at the waiter. The curly, dark hair and wide nose look like every other human I’ve met.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” I grimace. “Who are you?”

  “Ah, Colt. You ding-dong!” Steve snaps his fingers, and the restaurant mutes. For a moment, I think everyone is frozen, but they’re merely slowed down to a hundredth of their usual speed. No wonder I couldn’t remember him. Steven’s a Time Snatcher, and they have a habit of leaving those in their company disorientated. I’ve never worked out if it’s a deliberate side effect or not.

  “It’s coming back to me. How’ve you been, Steve?”

  “Good, good! Got twelve months community service in hospitality, which is a pain. My little time trips gave humans aneurisms, but, what can you do, eh?”

  “Is it a good idea to be playing with time right now?”

  “Yeah, totally fine. It only messes with folks if I stop time. Slowing it down? They’ll just wind up constipated, and they can blame that on food. So what are you doing here? Last I saw, you were eating the King of France.”

  “Those were the days. Man, I miss that.” I hang over the seat. “Before we got busted for hurting humans. The new laws suck.”

  “Tell me about it. You must be thirsty.” Steve pulls a knife from his apron and motions toward a couple in their forties. He pricks one of t
heir fingers, blood slowly seeping out. “Whoops. That was an accident,” he says robotically. “Go on, Colt. You won’t get into trouble for this.”

  I don’t hesitate. I leap toward the cut, sipping on the finger like it’s a tap. It quenches my thirst, but is hardly satisfying. Drinking from a human that hasn’t killed a cat tastes like flat mineral water, compared to the delectable cherry flavor that flows through those butchers.

  “Thanks, buddy.” I wipe my mouth. “Reckon you could rustle me up a fish pie?”

  “For you? Absolutely. You’re a legend; killing the most famous humans in history! A real icon. You probably don’t want to be stormed by fans? I’ll tell the others to respect your privacy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Steve frowns, his form wrinkly. “Colt, excluding the couple you just drank from, this is a restaurant full of monsters. Can’t you sense them through their forms?”

  I glance at the patrons, who slowly blink and reach for their knives and forks in super slow-motion. Nope, not sensing the slightest bit of monster in any of them. Am I losing my touch? It would make sense why I didn’t recognize Steve right away. Most monsters can see one another through their human forms, and for me to be completely blind to it? I must be sick.

  I dab at my forehead with my napkin. “Of course I can!” I push out a strained laugh. “I’m pulling your leg. So why do they all gather here?”

  “Ah, you got me!” He punches my arm, which hurts way more than it should. “There’s a chaser around. She’s been here for a while now. That’s why all of those lousy plays keep getting canceled. Monsters are sent there for community service, and the chaser offs them. One. By. One.” Steve wraps an imaginary noose around his neck, sticks out his tongue, and gargles. “This is a safe house, especially for monsters trying to behave. If that uptight redhead tries to come in here, we find some excuse to kick her out. Chasers can sense monsters. I don’t know if you’ve had a lot to do with them, but they’re pretty damn powerful as far as humans go. Phenomenal hunters and master manipulators.”

  I feel like I’m the one frozen in time while I stare at Steve, dumbstruck. “Does she happen to have an English accent?”

 

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