Ricochet

by Cheree Alsop

  “I hear footsteps,” Thirty-four squeaked.

  Seventeen pushed off me to stand. He growled, “Next time, cur,” before he turned away.

  They vanished through the doorway as silently as they had appeared, trained killers on the search for their own advancement through the ranks.

  I rolled over and pushed up to my knees. My breath came in ragged gasps; I was well aware how lucky I was to be breathing at all.

  “I’d recommend avoiding a next time,” the werewolf who still leaned near the door said.

  I glanced at him. “I’ll do that.” My voice came out scratchy and raw.

  I stood slowly; my body ached. The pounding I had taken in the earlier fight had been nothing compared to being jumped by the four werewolves. None of them would have survived facing me on my own. They weren’t cowards; they were taking advantage of the fact that I had been stupid enough to let down my guard while wandering the corridors alone.

  The werewolf didn’t move when I straightened. I glanced at him and said, “I don’t hear the Masters.”

  He tipped his head as though listening down the hallway. “Fear of retaliation makes people hear the strangest things.”

  He ducked out the door and had reached the end of the walkway before I turned the corner. The last I saw of the werewolf was when he looked over his shoulder before he turned down the next corridor. He had made himself a target alongside me. We would both be watching our backs from now on.

  “Loosen up, Zev.”

  A hand touched my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of the chair.

  “Don’t touch me,” I growled.

  I blinked and realized where I was with a start. Isley stared down at me, her green eyes wide. I looked over to find Alia and the rest of her friends watching me. Whatever they had been saying had been cut off by my strong reaction. Alia’s gaze showed a hint of fear and I knew she was remembering how I had nearly strangled Virgo when he woke me up from a nap on her couch.

  I sat on the edge of the seat and willed my racing heart to slow. I glanced to my left and met the gaze of the werewolf in the far chair, the werewolf who had saved my life from the four in the Lair, the favor I had returned when I let him go at the edge of the forest instead of leaving him to die with our brethren.

  The understanding on his face made me let out a slow breath and look away.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”

  Talking resumed on the couches. Alia’s voice was loudest and I appreciated her attempt to pull the attention away from me. Jayco said something in reply and they all burst into laughter. The sound of water came from Janie’s station, followed by the one behind me.

  “Just relax,” Isley said. “Breathe. I promise to be quick.”

  She pushed me gently back into the seat and I let her. I kept my eyes open this time for fear that the flashback would return. When I swallowed, I heard it in my ears. My heart rate was slowing, but I wondered if Isley could hear it. She kept her eyes on my hair as she ran the warm water through it. Even though it felt good, I refused to let down my guard even a little.

  After the wash was done, Isley lowered the chair back to its normal position and toweled the strands dry. She squeezed a bottle of something onto her fingers and then worked it through my hair. Her face was unreadable, her expression one of a professional putting on the final touches to a masterpiece. Finally, with a pleased nod, she turned me to face the mirror.

  “Not so bad, if I say so myself,” she noted.

  I couldn’t help staring. I had never had a professional haircut. I looked like a completely different person. I lifted a hand, then lowered it again in embarrassment.

  Isley gave me a small smile in the mirror. “You can touch it if you want to.”

  Feeling foolish, I ran my fingers through my hair. It was shorter than I was used to, but the haircut looked as though it belonged on me. It made me appear, well, normal.

  “Not so homeless anymore, right, Zev?”

  I looked up to find the werewolf watching me from behind the chair. I felt my eyes widen. He also looked completely different. His hair was still a bit longer than mine, but the way Janie had cut it made him look like he would fit in with Brexton and Jayco without a problem.

  “Not so homeless,” I repeated.

  “See? What did I tell you, Mitch?” Janie said to him. “A new haircut makes a new person. Now we just need to take you shopping.” She led him to the others. “Who’s with me?”

  “Shopping?” the werewolf replied.

  The horror in his voice made me smile. I glanced over to meet Isley’s calculating expression. She looked at her friends as if to ensure they were occupied before she met my eyes again.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?” she asked quietly.

  I lowered my gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She crouched so that we were eye-level.

  “Seriously? I’m supposed to believe that a backpacker returned from wherever tortured, homeless war veterans or whatever you are come from, shows up at just the right time to save Alia and her family from a burglar in the middle of the night, and they’ve now taken you into their home without question along with your brother who pretty much just tried to kill you in Alia’s store? That seems a little farfetched to me.”

  “You guys coming?” Alia called from the front of the salon. “The mall’s closing.”

  I stood. “Believe what you want to,” I told her. “I’ve got to go. Alia’s my ride.”

  I was a few steps away when she said, “Hey, Zev.”

  I turned reluctantly around. “Yeah?”

  She gestured toward the chair where I had been sitting. “Better get those bandages changed.”

  I followed her gaze to the spots of blood that marked the blue vinyl. I nodded and walked away without a word.

  “About time,” Jayco said when I reached him. “We’ve got a party to catch.”

  I shot Alia a surprised glance.

  “Not tonight,” she told him. “Maybe next time.”

  Jayco gave her a pouting look I was sure he thought was cute, but really only made him appear as though he was four years old. “Come on, Lia,” he begged. “You haven’t been to Matt’s in ages.”

  “It’s been two weeks,” she replied. “And I’m tired. I just worked a shift.” She looked at me. “An exciting one at that, and I still haven’t caught up on sleep from the other night.” She shook her head. “Sorry to be lame, guys.”

  “That’s alright,” Trina told her with a warm smile. “We’ll catch you next time.”

  “Yeah,” Janie said. “And you can bring the boys.” She shot both of us a welcoming grin.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Alia said.

  “The least you can do is let me give you a ride to your car,” Jayco said, his tone teasing.

  Alia shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. I’d break your back!”

  “I’m a football player, remember?” he said.

  He threw Brexton a look and the other boy repeated with him, “My back carries this team!”

  Brexton shook his head. “Coach is still in our head when we aren’t even at practice!”

  We wandered out of the salon. Brexton paused at the door to shout, “Hey, Isley, you coming?”

  “No,” she said from deeper inside. “I need to clean up and lock up. You guys have fun.”

  “Aw, come on,” he urged.

  She shook her head, her long blonde hair swishing. “No. I’m not really in the mood.” Her eyes lingered on me for a moment before she turned away.

  Nobody else seemed to notice the accusation in her gaze. Jayco had succeeded in cajoling Alia into climbing on his back and he proceeded to gallop her down the nearly empty halls of the mall as though he was a horse. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen in my life.

  Brexton, Janie, and Trina chased each other around the benches and garbage cans in a game that l
ooked very much like the less-deadly version of catch-the-prey I grew up playing. There wasn’t any blood and whoever was it appeared to find it hilarious instead of life-threatening.

  “A bit unsettling, isn’t it?”

  I looked at the werewolf. His hands were in the pockets of his new jeans. At my questioning glance, he tipped his chin toward the humans who jostled each other with a carefree attitude I found myself longing to join.

  “Which part?”

  “They’re so oblivious, aren’t they?” He gestured to the stores around us.

  Most of the lights were off and only emergency lighting lit the path where we walked. The few others who made their way to the exit didn’t seem at all bothered by the raucous group we followed. The werewolf and I scanned each room we passed with the subconscious awareness pounded into us from youth. Every shadow was a potential hiding place for an attacker. Every creak that had no obvious source could come from a sinister foot.

  “Maybe it’s better that way,” I said.

  The werewolf threw me a surprised look. “You think so? They could be killed.”

  That brought the ghost of a smile to my lips. “Would you rather be killed living life like that, or like this?” I gestured meaningfully toward us.

  The werewolf was silent for a minute before he said, “You might have a point.”

  We followed the others quietly for a few more steps before he said, “Thanks, by the way.”

  I glanced at him. “For what?”

  “For the name,” he replied. “I’ve never had one before.”

  I shrugged and felt the pull to the bandages on my back. “It’s not much of one. I got it from the shampoo bottle.”

  A half-smile lifted his lips. “I was going to ask.” He looked at me. “Mitch is better than Zev.”

  I refused to be goaded by the comment. “Zev is fine. I think it fits me.”

  He looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. “It does.” He fell quiet before he asked in a forcibly light tone, “Does Mitch fit me?”

  I knew it meant something to him. It was there in his voice, a slight twist at the end he tried to hide, but it gave him away. His eyes lowered to the tiled floor as if he knew.

  I owed him my life. I could do that much for him. “It’s a good name, and it fits you well.”

  He smiled at the black and white tiles and said, “Thanks, Zev.”

  “No problem, Mitch.”

  Chapter Six

  The sun had set by the time we pulled up to the Willard residence. A beat-up blue truck sat in the driveway.

  “That’s Virgo’s,” Alia said as she pulled in beside it. “I wonder if James called him.”

  “Maybe he’s worried about having another werewolf over,” I said with a glance at Mitch.

  “Should I go somewhere else?” the werewolf asked.

  Alia shook her head. “Mom said it wasn’t a problem when I called her, so James doesn’t get a say.”

  “He’ll appreciate that,” I replied.

  She shrugged. “Odds are he called Virgo because Virgo will bring Jemmy.” She smiled. “They were getting along pretty well yesterday. I think finding out she was a witch was good for him.”

  “Your brother’s dating a witch?” Mitch said, his eyes wide.

  That brought a laugh from Alia. “It sounds crazy when you say it like that.”

  He nodded. The shocked expression refused to leave his face. “It is crazy!”

  I knew exactly what he had been taught about witches and warlocks at the Lair. The same horror had filled me the first time I met Virgo. It was amazing to me how normal it felt to talk about having a warlock and a witch for a friend two days later.

  “You’ll realize it’s not so crazy once you’ve met them,” I told him.

  Mitch shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but let’s go meet a couple of magicians.”

  Alia chuckled. “Call Virgo that. It’ll help you get on his good side.”

  I couldn’t help laughing.

  We followed her to the house. Mitch and I stopped at the exact same moment on the porch. Alia continued inside and left the door open, unaware that we were no longer behind her.

  The nauseous, angry twist to my stomach was unmistakable. I glanced at Mitch. The hand on his stomach said he felt the same. His face was pale and he looked like he was about to lose the contents of his stomach.

  “Very funny, Virgo,” I shouted.

  A laugh came from further in the house. A few seconds later, the warlock appeared. His long blond hair was caught back in its usual ponytail. The glasses he had chosen to wear were red-rimmed and ended in upsweeps on either side, accentuating the laughter in his eyes.

  He leaned against the door frame and grinned at me. “What’s wrong? Having a little problem coming inside?”

  I rolled my eyes, something I had learned from my human friends. “Hasn’t anyone told you that warding doors against your guests is rude?”

  Virgo crossed his arms and gave Mitch a serious once-over. “How do I know he’s a guest and not forcing you to bring him here so he can finish what his buddies started the other night?”

  Mitch’s hands clenched into fists, but I shook my head.

  “Because I would never bring danger the Willards on purpose,” I replied.

  That brought a smile to the warlock’s lips. “Good answer,” he said.

  He whispered something in Latin and the runes on his hands glowed blue. He waved them at the door frame. The nauseous feeling in my stomach immediately disappeared.

  “Welcome, boys,” he said. “There’s plenty of food. I even brought some of my mom’s famous lasagna because Zev here told her he liked it so much.” He winked at me before spinning dramatically away and vanishing back through the living room.

  I took a step forward, but realized Mitch wasn’t following.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Mitch’s gaze was on the inside of the house. The sounds of talking and laughter came from the kitchen. The scent of spaghetti and sauce with real hamburger wafted tantalizingly from that room along with the smell of garlic and fresh bread. The slight squash and cashew cheese smell of Mrs. Stein’s lasagna failed to destroy the mouth-watering promise of a good meal.

  “Am I walking into a trap?” Mitch asked, his expression one of deep suspicion.

  I shook my head. “You heard Alia. Virgo’s a friend and her brother James likes Virgo’s sister Jemmy. Just wait. You’ll see it’s true. The Willards have been nothing but kind to me since Ian hit me with that car.” I pointed to the one Alia had driven. The huge dent in the front bumper where the vehicle and I had made our first acquaintance was painfully obvious. “Or I hit it. The details are still a bit fuzzy.”

  “You trust them?” Mitch asked.

  I knew the doubt he felt. The same had filled me when I debated whether to return to the Willard residence and protect them against the werewolf threat I knew was coming, or to make a run for it and fend for myself. The thought of trusting humans had been so foreign and almost laughable that I had nearly left them to their fate. Return with Alia had changed me in a way I couldn’t put into words. I could only nod and say, “Yes, I trust them with my life.”

  Mitch let out a quiet breath and nodded. “That’ll have to be good enough for me.”

  He followed me through the living room. We both paused in the doorway to the kitchen and watched the chaos beyond.

  Alia had jumped in to help her mother strain a pot of spaghetti big enough to feed twenty werewolves. Ian stirred red sauce in a pot with one hand and checked his phone with the other. James pulled a pan lined with garlic bread from the oven and set it on the counter.

  “Put a hot pad under it,” Alia and Mrs. Willard said at the same time.

  The round table near the window I had broken was covered in bowls of salad with several types of dressings, liters of punch, orange soda, and milk, smaller bowls of fresh cheese, parmesan, olives, and tomatoes, and, true to Virgo’
s word, a huge pan of Mrs. Stein’s zucchini lasagna.

  “How many werewolves are we expecting?” Mitch asked.

  I glanced at him and realized by his expression that he hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

  “Only two,” Mrs. Willard replied from the stove; her deep voice reverberated through the kitchen. “But I’m afraid we still might run out of food the way Zev can put it away.” She wiped her hands on her red-streaked apron and held one out as she walked toward us. “I’m the mother. Welcome.”

  Mitch glanced at me. I nodded toward her hand. He shook it carefully as if afraid he would hurt the woman. But I had seen her strength in stressful situations. She was definitely the mama bear of the house. If he messed with any of her children, the strength of ten werewolves wouldn’t be enough to hold her back.

  She turned her smile on me. “Welcome back, Zev. How was the mall?”

  Some of the hesitancy I felt toward answering the question must have shown on my face because James laughed.

  “That’s about what I expected. Did you get swarmed by the Concrete Jungle Patrol?” the oldest Willard boy asked.

  I shot a questioning glance at Alia.

  She gave James an exasperated look and said, “That’s what he calls my friends.”

  “Oh,” I replied. “We met. They were nice.”

  James laughed again and elbowed his sister. “By that, he means they’re insane, which they are.”

  Alia opened her mouth as if about to deny it, then she nodded instead. “It’s true. That’s why I love them.”

  “Mitch met them, too,” I said. I glanced at him and chose my words carefully. “It’s where he and I, uh, ran into each other.”

  At my look, Mitch nodded. “Yes. I was looking for Zev. He told me how great the hospitality is here and mentioned you wouldn’t mind if I stayed for the night. I hope I’m not imposing.”

  Mrs. Willard beamed. “Well, Zev’s right, and you’re not imposing at all.” She took Mitch by the arm and led him to the table. “Make yourself comfortable, Mitch. A friend of Zev’s is a welcome friend of ours. We’re glad you could join us and we expect you to eat your share of the food.”