by Unknown
He stole a sidelong glance at Dierk. "Sophie, you don't know who he is."
"But I'm going to find out aren't I?" I laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "Don't make it harder."
"Sophie," Dierk said, drawing my attention back to him. It wasn't right that I should respond so easily to his voice, but I couldn't not listen. His voice had a gravitational effect on me, pulling me to him. "It is not my wish to leave you here. You'd be safer with me. I do this only because you ask. I am not comfortable leaving you alone."
Rodrian snorted. "She won't be alone."
"Thurzo, be rational. I don't have to point out the obvious. You see the bandage. You scent the infection. You know what is happening to her. Why not let her be with someone who can help her?"
Rodrian made to reply but I interrupted him with the palm of my uninjured hand before swinging toward Dierk.
"I am an adult, Dierk. He doesn't let me be anything. I asked you to bring me home because it's what I want." I looked him in the face to make my point but, when I saw his soft brown eyes, I softened a little inside. Dammit. "Look. It's one night. I need to be alone and sort things out. You dumped a shitload on me and I really need another shower."
"I'll say," muttered Rodrian.
I ignored him. This back and forth took more effort than I could spare. "I'll call you, Dierk. I promise."
"Tomorrow?"
"Sure. Whatever."
He reached up to cup my shoulders, making it an embrace. His touch bolstered me, strengthened me, rewarded me for allowing the contact. I was beginning to understand the power of this Leni crap; although I didn't crave Dierk's touch, I knew that I'd feel better for it. The Leni wanted us to stay close to each other.
His voice was tender, full of emotion. "It won't be easy, walking away without you."
"I know," I whispered back. I brushed my hands across his chest, smoothing his jacket. With a sigh I rested my head against him, just a moment. He pressed closer to me, not quite hugging me, his touch gentle but unsure. "But try."
I turned and walked into the house as quickly as I could, closing the door on all of them before the growing discomfort made me change my mind. I stumbled across the foyer and almost made it to the staircase before tripping. I ended up crawling up the stairs.
What a way to show Rodrian I was going to be okay. Overconfident Sophie, that's me.
Waning gibbous | moon 2% visible
The moon followed me.
Back when I was a kid, riding in the back of Dad's car at night, I'd watch the full moon slide along through the clouds, following the car. It was magic, Mom said. The moon only followed children because they were special.
Mom had been right. The few times I'd thought to look for the moon as an adult, it didn't do that magical slide through the clouds. It was always pinned to the dark sky, oblivious to my journeys.
Not now. The moon was keenly aware of me while I ran through the trees, looking for something. Every time I turned to look at the moon, it glided along, always over me, never letting me get more than a step ahead. It was like a shadow. All I could hear were my foot falls in the crisp leaves and the hum of a song I almost recognized.
Where? What? Why was I here and how long would I run?
Suddenly, a wolf howled. I couldn't judge the distance but it was close and I smiled into the rush of relief that flooded me—
Woke up on the couch. The dream tugged at the corner of my brain, wanting me to drop back into sleep. I shook my head, feeling thick with vertigo. Door was open. People talking down the hall. Rode. The DV doctor that had run Shy's hypolution treatment. Clouds of doubt and helplessness that pressed at the edge of my Sophia-sense like a suffocating fog.
Those damned moon dreams.
I was hungry but nauseous. Tired but restless. Lonely but never wanting to see another damned person ever again because people did dumb shit to me like kidnap me and try to kill me because they were vampires and let werewolves bite me. I crawled to the guest bathroom and drank a handful of water from the sink, rubbing my wet hands over my face.
Didn't help much. I staggered back to the couch, vaguely aware that someone was in the hallway, calling my name.
I didn't know who it was. Didn't matter who it was. They couldn't help me.
Dropping onto the couch again, I panted with the exertion and closed my eyes, feeling the world swirl around me, waiting for the moon to reclaim me.
The moon was only too happy to oblige.
I had absolutely no idea how long I lay in the parlor but at some point, I heard a voice that woke me from my restless sleep. He kept saying my name, over and over. Insistent. Urgent.
"Sophie. Sophie."
I couldn't ignore it anymore. I pushed up onto my elbows, grimacing against the taste of road kill in my mouth. Great. I even had wolf breath. I was screwed for sure. "What, already?"
"Sophie. Come out here."
I sank back on the couch, finally recognizing the voice. "Toby, I'm tired. Leave me alone."
"I said—" His voice took on a hard edge. Was it Toby? He didn't sound like that. "Get out here. Now."
Oh, whatever. I was going out there, all right, and I was going to breathe all over him when I did. I got to my feet and tottered to the door, noticing I still had on the same clothes I came home in, pretty much. Dierk's shirt was in a crumple on the floor but I still wore the camisole he'd given me. Shoot, I still had my boots on.
Walking in a straight line was difficult when you couldn't see right but I wasn't going for points. I made it to the door and leaned heavily on the frame, spying his shape halfway up the hall. He wasn't coming past the wards that protected my suite.
I squinted, trying to focus. "What is so damned important?"
"Come here, Sophie."
I started to slide down. Sitting would be so much easier.
"Sophie! I said, come here!"
His tone was so ugly I was afraid to disobey. I righted myself and pushed myself down the wall toward him, wanting to cry.
When I got close enough to see his face, I did cry. His expression wasn't angry like his tone—he was scared. Toby being scared reminded me how scared I was. I lunged the last few feet toward him and he caught me, pulling me up to him in a crushing hug.
"My God, girl. I thought we lost you in there." His voice was tremulous, breath in my hair. "We couldn't get in. You didn't answer—"
I hiccupped, holding onto the sobs. I just wanted to wail with the despair that filled me. I wanted to scream my rage at having been bitten. I couldn't, not while the only comfort I had was this desperate embrace from my friend.
He was a Were. I couldn't tell him the last thing I wanted was to be like him.
Toby didn't ask me to accept it. He drew back and cupped his hands around my head, holding my face to his. "How do you feel?"
I gave him the truth. "I'm sick. This is—the worst. Just…"
He pulled me back to his chest and crossed his arms around me. Traces of Dahlia's fragrance lingered in his shirt and I took comfort from that, too. "I can't even imagine how bad it is. The bite is bad enough, I know, but he said you'd be going through the other thing."
The other thing. What an innocuous term. This inescapable entanglement with Dierk—this curse, this seizure of my liberty and my destiny and my future—
Right now, it was the only thing. I didn't have anything else anymore.
"C'mon." He released me and helped me walk out to the staircase. The office door was closed.
I gathered my strength, lowered my barriers, and reached out through the house. All the usual inhabitants—the staff, the guard—but there was a looming omission. Rodrian wasn't here. I closed my eyes against the thin tears that seeped down my cheek. I knew it. He'd left me.
I had to wait for the painful spasm in my throat to subside before I could speak. "Where is everyone?"
"Dahlia said the Conclave is meeting. They call the Leni an act of aggression against the DV, and I guess a bunch of important people showed up."
The Conclave. They didn't get together for any old reason. The last time the Conclave met, it was because Marek had introduced the Demivampire community to their long-lost Sophia. Now, they met because their Sophia had betrayed them by getting bitten. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"
"Depends on how you look at it, I guess." His voice was tame. I supposed for a Were this wasn't bad news at all. But he wasn't facing the moon for the first time.
He tried. I should at least give him credit for that.
Toby walked me down to the tri-suites where Shiloh stayed. Now that she'd cusped, she had a lot more freedom and stayed out a lot more. I had no reason to doubt her ability to take care of herself—she was stronger than the average DV.
A child of Marek's line, through and through.
So much for college and vet school. Shiloh was training to be a slayer. A killer. Of the undead, to be sure, but this is the girl who ironed her tee shirts and never touched a generic anything in her life.
The other reason she wasn't here much anymore was Aurelia. Shiloh's mother had been pressuring her to spend time with her at her place downtown. I guessed she rented an apartment; guessed, not knew, because I didn't ask. I always had the impression that she resented me, although hell if I knew why. She never went out of her way to be nice when I saw her, so it didn't encourage a lot of small talk.
The suites were empty. Toby led me to the lone vacant suite at the far end of the hall—by which point I wished he'd just thrown me over his shoulder and carried me. He steered me into the bathroom, where he handed me a soapy wash cloth before kneeling to tug off my boots.
"Just do your best, Soph." He picked up a hairbrush and began to untangle my hair. His touch was clumsy but gentle as he twisted my hair up into a ponytail. "You need a shower but I can't help you with that. Here's a towel, though. Get out of those clothes and wash up. I'm bringing you fresh stuff."
He stepped out and shut the door. I did as he said, rinsing the wash cloth out in the basin he'd filled with warm water. Really. Why was turning into a werewolf such cruddy stuff?
I relished the chance to clean up, still wondering what day it was. The nausea, though, didn't abate, although sitting rigidly on the toilet seat and trying to hold my head level kept the vertigo to a minimum.
Until Toby rapped on the door. I jumped at the loud sound and nearly fell over. Holding onto my towel, I grimaced against the quick thump of migraine. "Yeah."
He opened the door. "Here, these were in the laundry room. They're clean. And I found these under your desk."
He lifted a pair of sneakers. "Want ‘em?"
I nodded. "Got a toothbrush?"
"Shiloh's."
She'd flip her wig if she knew. "You can bleach it when I'm done ruining it."
Eventually I was dressed and decontaminated. Toby gathered me up and carefully walked me down the stairs and outside to my car. Depositing me in the front seat, he trotted around to the driver's side and together we pulled out of the driveway.
I had no idea where we were going and I didn't ask. I hoped alternately for either a Rita's or a firing squad. When he took a turn too fast for my stomach, I hoped for both.
He put the radio on, playing a CD that was already in. Turn of the Wheel. We'd been listening to it on the way to the concert. Dierk's voice surrounded me and, for the first time, I couldn't enjoy the song. I reached over and switched it off.
"I'm sorry, Soph. I forgot—"
I lifted my hand. "Where are we going?"
"The Balaton Lanes."
I groaned, letting my head sink against the headrest. "I have a headache and I don't want to bowl."
"You don't have to."
Okay, then. I guess I was just along for another ride. At least he was keeping me awake. Maybe I still had earplugs from the last concert.
The last concert where I got chomped by a Were. How many times will I have to kick myself for going out that night?
We drove toward the downtown area, taking an exit that led us south of Balaton's densest area. Toby took us through the suburban spread and pulled into an ill-paved lot. Balaton Lanes and Blue Moon Pool. Shoot. It hadn't been a bad joke.
Wait. I could read the sign. My vision had cleared a little. Part of me knew why. A sudden flare of anxiety threatened to choke me.
Toby took a spot at the edge of the parking lot, coming around to help me out of the car. "I know it's hard, but walk straight and don't attract any attention. I ain't supposed to be here."
I nodded and took a deep breath. Leveling my shoulders, I slipped my hand into his and, together, we walked into the bowling alley.
It was still very difficult to focus on our surroundings and the clatter from the alleys bounced around the inside of my head in a most unpleasant manner. A balding man leaned on the front counter, sliding a pair of rental shoes toward a kid. He pushed a long strand of iron grey comb-over out of his greasy eyes and watched us intently, his scrutiny getting under my skin. I concentrated on the tug of Toby's hand, tagging alongside him like an old drunk chick. At least my stomach was settling. Throwing up on the carpet would attract that unwanted attention Toby warned against.
We strode toward the far end of the alley, where a room was walled off with huge windows. A dated neon sign blinked Pool. The closer we got, the stronger the scent of cigarettes and body spray, with an under layer of sweat and old lockers. Uck. If that's where we were headed, all bets were off and I'd puke for sure.
I took my last gulp of comparably clean air before crossing into the pool room. Steel lockers spanned the near wall, and at least a dozen tables filled the room. I didn't notice that Toby had stopped walking and I bumped into his shoulder.
I leaned around him to see a brawny guy blocking our path, holding a cue. I guessed he'd been playing at the first table. A skinny guy with a long neck and a baseball cap sidled up and nudged the big guy. "You expecting company, Thorpe?"
A blurry group of people drifted closer and Thorpe pointed at us. "Who do you belong to?"
As if it was his business. I had enough of this belonging-to-people crap and I intended to tell him so but Toby side-stepped, eclipsing me.
"Bayridge," he said.
"Bayridge." Thorpe's voice deepened with displeasure, taking on dark colors. "Bayridge don't got business here."
Other people began to take interest in our pleasantries and one by one they left their tables, straying closer to form a casual but menacing group. Toby fanned his elbows out, putting me behind him.
"She has business here. I'm her friend."
"I don't care who you are." Thorpe smiled a mean I-don't-give-a-shit smile, full of long teeth. He dropped the cue on the table. "Get out before I throw you out."
"Just a minute, bub," I interjected in his general direction. Although I felt somewhat better that I had in the car, I was still operating with boozed-up dexterity and I had trouble focusing. "You don't own this place."
Boy, was I a toughie. Step back before Sophie puts the pow-pow on ya'll.
"Sophie," Toby said. "Be. Quiet."
The man stalked closer, and I could smell the beer on his breath. Talk about making a voice carry. "Your bitch got a mouth on her. She better watch she don't get it slapped."
Oh, no, he didn't. "How dare—"
Next thing I knew I was sprawled against the lockers, holding my mouth and seeing stars. The ugly brute stood over me like an abusive husband.
"Apologize to her," Toby said quietly.
Thorpe stepped into Toby, leaning into his face. "Or what?"
"Do it, or else. She didn't do nothing."
Thorpe smiled as if he imagined doing terrible things to Toby and would enjoy every single one of them. Reaching behind him without looking, one of his buddies handed him half a pool cue. The thick half. He swung the heavy end down into his palm like a club.
I wiped my nose and squinted at the blood on my fingers, all—fifteen of them. Great. More dizzy.
"I gave you a chance to leave walking, kid. Now
you'll be lucky to crawl out of here."
I climbed to my feet, using the lockers behind me for finger holds. Toby grunted with pain. The Were drove the cue into Toby's stomach, cracking him beneath the jaw as he folded.
Suddenly, my focus snapped into hi-def. Toby was on his knees, his collar wadded into Thorpe's fist, who had the cue pulled back, preparing to strike again. The bigger man looked like a tennis player preparing to serve, and Toby's head was the ball.
No way was he hurting Toby again. I lunged at the man, grabbing his arm and scratching for the cue. "Stop it!"
He shook me off. "Still don't know how to keep quiet, huh? Maybe I need to break your jaw, too."
"Maybe not." A voice, as strong and clear as a tolling bell. "Things would not end well for you."
Dierk. Relief made my knees weak.
He stood with Olberich and Stohl. Demolition blazed in his golden eyes. "I don't appreciate men who flaunt their strength."
"I told you boys." The guy who had been handing out shoe rentals stepped into the doorway holding a shotgun. "Next time I had to break up a fight, I'm gonna break one of you in pieces."
Dierk raised a hand. "Put your gun down."
"And who the hell are you?" Shoe Rental Guy swiveled the gun in Dierk's direction.
One of the girls sidled up to the manager, rising up on her toes to whisper in his ear, rolling her eyes toward Dierk and the others. As she did so, his expression melted into one of worry, and he stammered, lowering the gun, bowing awkwardly. "I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon. I didn't know."
Dierk had already forgotten him and focused once more on Thorpe. "You have damaged the young Wolf."
"He's out of his territory." Thorpe sounded strained. It was a desperate excuse, now, not a conviction.
Dierk wanted none of it. "You are brothers."
"He's Bayridge—"
"We are not curs. We don't have turfs or run in gangs. We are civilized." Dierk tilted his head. His tone had remained level and firm, but his hands balled up into white-knuckled fists. He was seething inside, and I could see his struggle to remain in control. "You are not."
