Ripper

by Lexi Blake

  “Are you sure Vorenus didn’t try anything on you, sweetheart?” Gray asked and I could tell he was being careful not to show his temper. He hadn’t liked the fact that I’d shown up with the vampire, but he was smart enough to know that a big display of masculine jealousy wasn’t going to help his cause. “It’s hard for me to believe he could spend time with you and not try something. He’s a powerful persuasive. He can make you do things you don’t want to do.”

  “I know.” I didn’t really want to talk about that portion of the evening. For some reason, I wanted to keep my time with Marcus private. “He explained it to me. I told you, Gray, he didn’t try anything and he got angry with the one vampire who did try.”

  “What?” The question was a curt slap of the tongue.

  I sighed and leaned my head against the window of the truck. I must be tired or I would have known better than to mention that incident.

  “Kelsey?” He wasn’t going to let me off the hook.

  “Some vamp was looking for a date and he tried to persuade me to go with him. Marcus took exception, but he didn’t have to since I’d already handled it.”

  Gray got on the freeway, which was blissfully clear at this time of night. “How did you handle it?”

  “I don’t know.” I wondered if we were going to get into another fight over this. If we were, I’d rather go to my place. I was antsy. I’d been through the emotional wringer and all I wanted to do was sleep. I didn’t think I could take another big scene. I had to hope Gray’s patience wasn’t wearing thin on the sexual front. “I tossed him out of my head and that was that.”

  Gray was thoughtful as he exited the freeway and started down the road to his house. I enjoyed the silence for a moment and let the evening’s events wash over me. All in all it had been pretty crappy when I really thought about it. I’d been used by men all night. Gray tried to force me to choose between him and work. Quinn tried to use me as a pawn in his war with Marcus. The local alpha treated me like a piece of ass. Marcus…that had almost hurt even more than Gray. I expected that Gray would realize I wasn’t the girl for him. I just hoped for a little more time before he figured it out. Marcus wasn’t a lover. He was a friend who I thought I might not have to pretend around.

  “Kelsey, we’re home,” Gray said softly and I realized the truck had stopped. His hand came out to run the length of my arm. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart. We’ll go over everything in the morning and figure out what to do.”

  He got out of the truck and was around to my side before I could open the door myself. He helped me down and hustled me into the house, locking doors and setting alarms. He nodded toward the rear of the house where his bedroom was. “Go on, sweetheart, I’ll be with you in a minute. I want to check on a few things first.”

  When I got to the kitchen, I noticed a small tray had been left for us. Syl, no doubt. I passed on the wine, preferring a bottle of water, but I took two of the cookies. And yes, I then turned and took another two. I munched on the pepperminty chocolate chip cookies as I made my way to the back of the house.

  I turned on the shower in the bathroom and let my clothes fall to the floor. A steaming hot shower sometimes helped. I was still alone when I got out. I noticed the clothes I’d worn yesterday were clean and neatly folded on the long marble counter. Syl must have been busy while we’d been gone. When we’d left earlier in the evening, the bathroom looked like a girl bomb had gone off. There had been makeup, curling irons, and clothes everywhere. Though it had hurt Liv’s heart to leave behind a mess, Gray had insisted we be on time. Now the bathroom was pristine.

  I dried off and quickly got into my panties and one of Gray’s T-shirts. It was comfortable. I could lie in bed staring at the ceiling for hours in it.

  I heard Gray before I saw him. He was standing in the doorway, his shirt gone, his feet bare and a look in his eyes that told me what he wanted. I caught my breath at the sight of him. He was so freaking gorgeous, with perfectly tanned skin that bespoke of hours spent working in the sun and that thick dark hair I wanted to run my fingers through. If I had the chance, I would convince him to grow it out so it waved and curled and went wild in the mornings. His eyes were rich and hot as he looked over me, but he didn’t make a move yet and I just knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sleep with him when I knew it wouldn’t work between us. It would hurt too fucking much when he was gone.

  There must have been something in my eyes because his whole body seemed to deflate. “I’m gonna take a shower, Kelsey. Go to bed, okay?”

  I hated that I’d disappointed him, but it was better this way. “Where’s my bedroom?”

  He checked the flare of anger that I watched wash over him. His reply was even and controlled. “I didn’t attack you last night and I won’t tonight. Get in bed. If you can’t trust me enough to even sleep beside you then I’ll take the couch, but I’m not leaving you alone. Now let me take the coldest shower in the history of time so we can get some sleep.”

  I fled the bathroom and crawled into the big bed where we’d slept the night before. The sheets were smooth and cool against my skin and I stared up at the darkened ceiling. I listened to the sounds of the shower and wondered why I couldn’t take what little happiness I was offered. Why was I so afraid of the pain that would come? Didn’t I want to feel even the tiniest bit alive?

  I fought back tears and eventually the sounds of the water running and the fan overhead lulled me to sleep.

  I hurry to keep up with my dad, but the boots he’s given me to wear are Nate’s and they’re too big.

  “Keep up, girl,” my father says gruffly.

  The leaves beneath my feet crunch and the air is cool all around me. It’s winter in the Ozarks. We drove all night from Dallas to get here and then camped during the day. Dad grew up here. I want him to take me to his old house. He took Nate and Jamie to meet his cousins, but he told me we don’t have the time. He never lets me meet the people he knows. When his friends come by the house he tells me to stay in my room, that there will be hell to pay if I come out. I don’t think my dad wishes he’d ever had a girl because, as far as I know, none of his friends are even aware of my existence.

  He is ashamed of me.

  I wish he’d given me Nate’s gloves. My hands are cold, but I don’t complain. He almost never takes me anywhere with him so I don’t mention my discomforts. If I do a good job, maybe he won’t hate me so much. Maybe I can prove I can hunt like the boys. Dad hunts werewolves who eat people and make humans miserable. He’s a hero so it makes sense he doesn’t have time for me. I have to prove my worth and then he’ll train me like he did Jamie and Nathan. I know that my brothers don’t want Dad to train me, but I can do it. I know I can.

  My heart races as my father looks around the woods and decides this is the spot. I can see the Little Red River from here. It’s low in this part of the woods but cold, so cold. The woods here are isolated and filled with game. I let the cold air wash over me and I know that my father is right. Wolves are in the woods.

  “They’re here, Dad,” I say with a glimmer of excitement. I can tell they were here. That has to mean I’m a hunter.

  My father frowns down at me. “Don’t talk too much, girl.”

  “But I can sense them.”

  Now my father looks downright mad and I wonder what I said to make him that way. I try to be so good around my dad. He’s only hit me once or twice, but it really hurt when he did it, so I try to avoid making him mad. When he hit me in the face, it left bruises and then I had to skip school so I didn’t have to explain.

  “Little freak.” My father turns away from me. He sets his pack down and starts to pull out the things he will need.

  Despite the cold Arkansas mountain air, I flush. I should never, never talk about those weird flashes I get. I thought it would make him see that I was a hunter like him, but anytime I mention how I can sense things or feel them he gets mad and calls me a freak.

  “I’m sixteen,” I want to yell at him. I’m
not a little girl anymore.

  I stand there in the chill as the moon starts to rise and realize I can never, never tell him about the dreams I have. At night, mostly on the nights when the moon is full, I dream of running. I am alone in the woods and the solitude is perfection. I run, starting on two legs, but ending on four. When I change, the world is different. It’s better. I can see everything with my new eyes. Smells and sounds are sharper. There is nothing in these dreams except the hunt. Well, and the brown wolf who hunts with me. But I try not to think of him. My father would not like to know that I dream sometimes that he’s a wolf.

  “We’ll put you on that tree there,” Dad says, his voice harsh. Mom says it’s because he smokes too much and there’s disdain in her voice when she says it. Sometimes I think she hates my father. She always seems happy when he goes on his trips. That’s when she takes my brothers and me places. When Dad is gone we go out to eat, and when I was younger, we went to the zoo and parks. Sometimes we went to East Texas to see my granddad. I wish I’d been able to spend more time with him before he died.

  “Do I get a gun?” I ask quietly because I have to keep my voice down.

  My father laughs like I said something hysterical. “No, idiot. I’m not giving you a gun.” His green eyes seem cold. They always seem that way. His gaze slides past mine. He never looks me in the eyes. I think he doesn’t like brown eyes. I’m the only one in the family with dull brown eyes. He calls them muddy.

  I want to question him, but that’s when he usually uses his fists.

  He picks up a length of rope. “Go stand by the tree. Take your coat off first.”

  I do what he tells me to do. I start to shiver and not entirely from the freezing air. I can hear the wolves howl in the distance. He starts to wind the rope around me. My arms are free, but he wraps the rope around my waist. I am utterly helpless to run.

  “What are you doing?” I begin to panic. I stay still though because he’s my dad. I want him to love me. Maybe if I do this for him, he’ll see that I can help him.

  He tightens the rope and secures it. It burns against my skin it’s so tight. He’s good with knots. I watched as he spent hours teaching Jamie and Nate how to tie knots. I watched from the stairs of our little duplex because he didn’t teach girls. Sometimes Nate would come up after bedtime and he’d show me what he’d learned.

  “There.” He finishes up, tightening it further, and I can tell he’s happy with his work.

  “I’m cold,” I say before realizing I shouldn’t complain.

  “Suck it up, girl.” He looks me over and then pulls out his wicked large bowie knife. “This’ll bring ’em.”

  I try to beg him not to cut me, but it doesn’t work. He simply turns my forearms over and cuts a long gash in both. I start to bleed. There’s a lot of blood. How much can I lose?

  “I’ll stitch you up when it’s over,” he says, but I’m not sure if I believe him. He walks off and I know he’s hiding. He’ll pick a spot where he can shoot quickly and efficiently.

  I get woozy from the cold and all the blood. My arms feel strange, like they should be numb, but they’re tingling. My arms are covered in blood and I wonder if he means to let the wolves get me. It would be easy to pick them off while they’re feasting. My father says wolves go crazy when they eat humans. They love it, love the kill so much they don’t think about protecting themselves. They’re vicious animals.

  I think about my mom. Dad picked me up from school. He’d been standing in the courtyard where I waited every day for Nate. Nate was a year ahead of me at Bell High School, and he always drove me home in that piece of crap Ford Mom had saved to buy. Yesterday had been Thursday and Nate had chess club. Dad thought it was for pussies, but Nate liked games, so I waited for him in the courtyard. Dad told me we were going hunting. I wonder if he even told Mom. I wonder if she thinks I ran away. Did Nate spend time looking for me?

  I sense them before I see them. I look up and in the moonlight I can see them. My heart speeds up. There are four of them. They approach me cautiously. I wonder why. Why aren’t they growling? I am a helpless human. I am food. They should attack immediately because they hate us. They eat our flesh. The small group comes from across the river and I see for the first time this creature my father taught me to hate.

  The wolves are brown, two larger than the others, though they seem small compared to the way I envisioned them. They crouch down and sniff the air, but I know my dad always masks his scent. The largest of the four looks at the rest and then comes in close. I know instinctively that she is female. I never expected her to be so beautiful. She’s graceful as she approaches me and she whines a little in the back of her throat and then snorts like she’s done something foolish. She sits back and I watch as she changes. One minute she’s a brown wolf and the next she’s a girl, maybe a year or two older than me.

  “I bet you don’t speak wolf,” she says with a soothing smile. She keeps her words calm. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. Who did this to you?”

  Why is she talking to me? She’s supposed to attack. Wolves don’t help. Wolves don’t have warm brown eyes. The others are changing. Two boys and another teenaged girl.

  “It’s all right,” she says. “It’s just my obnoxious kid brother and our cousins. Is the person who did this to you gone?”

  They’re kids. They’re just kids like me.

  “I can go get my dad,” the girl offers. “He’ll track this jerk down and make sure he doesn’t hurt you again.”

  The boys are young. One is maybe ten and the other can’t be more than six or seven. He sniffles and wipes his nose on his forearm.

  “I think we should go, Tina,” the other girl says. “We can send the pack back for her. We should never have come this far out.”

  But it’s too late. The first shot rings out and I watch in horror as the girl who offered to help me looks down at the circle of red opening on her chest like a blooming rose. The bullets are silver and her eyes are blank before she hits the forest floor.

  I see the next few moments in slow motion. The ten-year-old boy is next and then the girl. The little boy stands there, looking down at the girl named Tina. He cries and I think he asks her to get up. He doesn’t leave her. He doesn’t run. He loves his sister and it costs him his young life. I watch as my father shoots him between the eyes.

  My father is an awfully good shot.

  The forest is quiet again and I hear the crunch of his boots as he crushes leaves beneath him. He is a large, dark figure in the moonlight, gun still in his hand. He looks over his kills.

  “They were kids,” I manage to say through my tears. They wanted to help me and now they were dead.

  “Yeah,” my father says with a wealth of satisfaction in his voice.

  “Daddy?”

  His eyes are vicious as they look at me. “Don’t you call me that, girl. You call me sir.”

  It was what he insisted on. I held my tongue. He was going to realize his mistake and he was going to feel bad.

  He kicks the body of the ten-year-old boy over like it’s a piece of meat. “I always like to get ’em before they have a chance to breed.”

  Something snaps inside me. I feel like I am a bottle of champagne and the cork is coming out. Rage bubbles up and flows from deep within. I have been lied to. The wolves aren’t animals. They’re different. Perhaps the wolves who killed my grandmother and my aunt were bad, but these wolves weren’t evil. The girl had been like me. I realize, too, that he intends to leave me here, staked out and bleeding. He will never tell my mother. He’ll pretend he doesn’t know what happened to me. Maybe he’ll shoot me and bury my body out here, then he won’t have to deal with a muddy-eyed freak anymore.

  I don’t know how I do it, but the rope tears around me. I am strong all of the sudden and the cold is gone, replaced with a hot, satisfying anger.

  “What the hell?” I hear my father whisper as I shrug off the bonds.

  Something dark and deep takes over. I can
feel it. It’s as though a door has opened in my soul and a piece of me I never knew before has been unleashed. I’m a bundle of instincts now. Two are foremost in my mind—survival and revenge. My father lifts the rifle, but I am faster. It is in my hand as he pulls the trigger, the shot flying wildly, impotently through the air. I hold the weapon in my hands and it feels good when I twist the metal. The gun will never work again. I toss it aside as my father backs away from me. I can smell his fear.

  He is prey and no longer my father. He is meat that has done wrong to me and he will pay. He attempts to hit me, but I no longer allow such liberties. As his fist shoots out to connect with my jaw, it is so simple to block him. He moves like a man in slow motion. I simply raise my hand to catch him. His fist is large but I manage to crush it anyway. He cries out as his fingers break beneath the pressure I apply.

  I have legs, too. I use them. I kick out neatly like I have done this a thousand times before. I catch him in the gut, knowing exactly where to place my heel so all the breath is pushed from his body. He would fall back and away from me, but I hold his broken hand like a tether between us. He falls to his knees and I crush his nose with my free hand.

  “Kelsey,” he cries, but he’s too late.

  He tries to pull his knife, but I smile down. I took it from him when he wasn’t looking…

  “Kelsey,” a sharp voice startled me awake.

  I fought him blindly, only knowing the nightmare still had me in its clutches. Gray pinned me, his big body covering mine and holding me down.

  “Kelsey, wake up,” he commanded.

  The fog began to lift as I realized I’m not in those woods any longer. I was with Gray. I could feel the heat of his body, the satisfying weight of him on top of me. The ceiling fan turned overhead and I took a deep breath. “Gray?”