Oh god. Oh no, she whimpered inwardly. She slowly turned her head to back into the living room, and saw them. Glowing red eyes; and they were looking right at her.
“Damn it, Presley. Get outta here!” Her uncle grunted as he struggled to sit up.
“I’m not leaving you,” Presley said firmly as she knelt down beside him. “Can you get up?”
She heard him wince as she touched his shoulder and she quickly pulled her hand away. He was hurt. Oh god, what was she supposed to do?
“Listen to me,” her uncle grunted between words as he grabbed for her wrist. “I need you to run. Please, Presley.”
A sob tore past her lips before she realized it and that terrified her. She was scared now, and she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. She couldn’t just leave him!
“Uncle Arnold, please come with me,” she pleaded. “We can go to the Bamey’s house! We can get help. We can-”
Another low growl sounded and this time, it was from her uncle. She felt his fingers trembling around her wrist and she tried to pull away. She was willing to bet he didn’t have any control over the change when he was frightened; just like her.
“Run,” he growled.
She didn’t have to be told a final time.
As the wolf and her uncle, now in bear form, went head to head, Presley darted through the kitchen and flung open the backdoor. Her feet barely made contact with the steps as she descended them. Her mind was racing as she ran around the side of the house, but then a thought occurred to her; what in the hell was she going to do now?
She had no idea how many of them were here!
“Oh shit,” she groaned as she came to an abrupt halt. She was panting for air as she pressed a palm against the siding of her childhood home and then she listened.
She could hear her uncle and the wolf within fighting. Glass was breaking, things were being smashed into. She could only imagine the damage that was being done.
Poor Uncle Arnold, she frowned.
She had to do something. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t just leave him in there with that.
“Shit,” she muttered again as she whirled around. She collided with pure muscle and yelped, tilting her head back to meet piercing golden hues.
“Hello there, sugar bear,” the man gave her a wicked grin as he gripped her arms. “I have been waiting to meet you.”
Seventeen
Dimitri had no sooner heard the scream leaving Presley’s lips when Lorcan shoved past him to get to the couch. He stumbled backwards, a bit dumbfounded as he tried to grasp what was happening.
He turned his head to watch as Liam’s brother leaned over the female, cupping her face in his hands as he tried to wake her up.
“Presley! Presley! Wake up! I’m here, okay? I’m right here.”
She’s having a nightmare, Dimitri frowned. He turned his head towards the hallway, watching as a wide eyed Mrs. Bamey and an alert Arnold Goult bolted out of the bathroom. The female’s uncle was shirtless with a large bandage wrapped around his torso.
“What in the hell?” Arnold Goult asked as he approached Lorcan. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I think she’s just having a bad dream,” Lorcan offered as he lightly smacked his palm against her cheek. “Presley, can you hear me?”
“Oh heavens,” Mrs. Bamey gasped as she rested her hand over her chest. “That poor girl has been through too much. It isn’t good for her mind…”
Dimitri felt like he was out place as the ursithropes surrounded the young female. What right did he have to be in here anyway? It wasn’t his place to be in this house with these people. He should’ve been outside keeping watch-not Mr. Bamey.
He quietly slipped out the door, welcoming the cool breeze of the night as it swept over the land. He closed his eyes and sighed.
How can I protect these people from Breslin? He wondered as he leaned over the railing of the porch. He’s stronger than me. He’s probably coming up with plan B at this very moment.
His upper teeth sank into the flesh of his lower lip as he hung his head and frowned.
“You ever used one of these before?”
Dimitri lifted his head to see Mr. Bamey standing at the foot of the steps. The older ursithrope was holding a long gun in his grasp, and the wolf couldn’t help but to wonder just what in the hell he planned to use it for.
“No, Sir,” Dimitri replied hesitantly.
Mr. Bamey gave a small grin as he glanced down at the gun again, his thumb delicately tracing over the trigger. “You want to?”
–––––––
Warmth radiated through every nerve ending of her body as Presley nestled beneath the blankets. After the nightmare fiasco, Mrs. Bamey had been kind enough to offer her Liam’s bedroom so she could rest.
“Just try and get some sleep,” Uncle Arnold had said as he kissed her forehead. “I’ll be right down the hall, Presley. If you need anything, you just let me know.”
“Or me,” Mrs. Bamey had added. “My room is just a door down, Sweetie. Don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”
Everyone was being way too nice to her. It was weird.
They’re only being nice because you’re on the verge of another mental breakdown, she thought. She rolled over on the soft mattress, heaving a sigh as she blinked in the darkness of the room.
This was Liam’s bedroom, and it made her feel very uncomfortable. Everything in this small space belonged to him. It didn’t matter if he was dead; every poster, trophy, and piece of clothing surrounding her were things he’d loved.
Poor Mrs. Bamey, she bit her lower lip. Mrs. Bamey was a good mother. Sometimes Presley had felt incredibly jealous of Liam and Lorcan. They had something she would never obtain in life and it made her green with envy.
That was stupid, wasn’t it?
Go back to sleep, she groaned inwardly as she rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face against the pillow. It wasn’t long before her mind finally obliged, allowing her to drift into temporary death once more.
“She sure is pretty.”
“She looks like her mother.”
“She will be mine.”
“No!” Presley gasped, her eyes snapping open as the scene replayed in her mind. She felt sick as her chest tightened and nausea formed as a painful lump in her throat. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes. “Oh my god.”
She wasn’t even safe in her dreams now. How in the hell did anyone expect her to sleep if she was being haunted by some stupid werewolf?
“This is such crap,” she muttered, pushing the covers back and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her bare feet hit the cold wooden floor and a shiver ran up her spine.
Things like this were only supposed to happen in dreams-they weren’t supposed to be real.
Yet you got dragged through the river by a smelly werewolf and you possess the ability to turn into a bear.
Couldn’t her thoughts shut up for five minutes? Just five minutes; that’s all she needed.
Her eyelids felt incredibly heavy as she pulled open the bedroom door, which didn’t squeak, and crept out into the hallway. It was very dark and judging by the gentle snoring currently reaching her ears, everyone was asleep.
I should be sleeping. She sulked as she tiptoed towards the kitchen. Why was she hungry at this time of night anyway?
That’s all I need. I’ll eat until I’m a big fat bear and then I can hibernate until 2025 for all I care.
Pulling out a container of ice cream from the freezer, Presley carefully grabbed for a spoon from the dish drain.
“Caramel swirl,” she nodded, pleased. “It’ll do.”
Not even bothering to get a bowl, Presley made her way back to the bedroom with the ice cream and spoon. If she was going to be up all night, haunted with vivid flashbacks of a psycho werewolf; she was going to do so while consuming a vast amount of frozen deliciousness.
Shutting the door as quietly as possible, Presley inched towards the bed. Her mouth was already wate
ring from the sweet anticipation of devouring an entire tub of ice cream.
I deserve it, damn it, she thought with a small, determined smile.
“Craving a midnight snack, huh?”
The spoon fell from her grasp, clattering against the floor as she clutched the frost covered container to her chest. Presley whirled about to see a much darker shadow in the corner of the room. What in the hell?
She squinted in the darkness, frowning. “Lorcan? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You woke me up,” he stated simply. Light suddenly flooded the room as he turned on the lamp and Presley blinked rapidly from being blinded. “How is anyone supposed to sleep around here with the racket you’re making?”
Presley’s mouth fell open as her brows furrowed. Racket? She wasn’t making any noise. She’d been as quiet as possible!
Oh….
“Right,” she rolled her eyes. “Super bear hearing and all that…” She sighed as she bent down to retrieve the spoon. Great. Now it was dirty. “Well I’m sorry I woke you up. I was trying to be quiet.”
Lorcan’s chuckle caused her eyes to snap in his direction. Why was he laughing?
He shook his head slowly as he ran his fingers through thick, dark locks. “I’m sure you’ll learn it eventually, but you can’t necessarily be quiet in a house full of ursithropes, Presley.”
“Well, I tried. It’s not my fault if you’re a light sleeper,” she frowned.
“I’m not a light sleeper,” Lorcan responded as he pulled the office chair away from Liam’s desk and spun it around. He straddled it as he eased down, resting his muscular arms against the back. “But I wasn’t necessarily resting very well either.”
“Oh?” Presley asked, half-listening to him as she pried the lid off the container. She frowned, glancing at the spoon and then looking back at the ice cream once more. Could the five second rule apply in this case?
“It’s sort of hard to relax when all I can smell is you,” Lorcan stated after a moment.
Presley lifted her eyes from the ice cream, meeting chocolate brown hues before she frowned. “Do I stink or something?” She asked, fighting off the urge to sniff herself.
Lorcan tilted his head to the side, his eyes remaining on her face as his tongue traced over his bottom lip. Presley watched as his nostrils flared. Was he..sniffing?
“Quite the opposite,” he grinned, resting his chin against his palm. “I think you smell amazing.”
Presley scowled, dropping her gaze to the ice cream as she tried to think of a clever comeback; her mind went blank.
“That’s weird,” she finally said after a moment. “I mean, saying that is weird, Lorcan.”
“Why is it weird?” He questioned with a lifted brow. “It’s no different than a man telling a woman he likes the scent of her perfume, is it?”
“It is different,” she argued as she met his gaze again. Why was he looking at her like that? “I’m not wearing any perfume and all I can smell is…” she did smell herself then, and it made her wrinkle her nose. “I smell like dog.”
“Mm, I was ignoring that stench,” Lorcan frowned. He pushed up from the chair suddenly, and before Presley had time to make heads or tails of the situation, he was towering over her. She tilted her head back to stare up at him.
He was doing it again; looking at her in a way that made her insides quiver. She swallowed hard before blinking. “Does it smell that bad?” She asked quietly.
“Horrible,” Lorcan replied in a lower voice. “It’s the most god awful smell.”
Presley frowned, gripping the container of ice cream tightly between her hands. She could feel the condensation dripping onto her fingertips and that did nothing for the heat surging through her body. Why did she feel so hot all of the sudden?
“I took a shower,” Presley noted. “I shouldn’t smell like anything other than me.”
“His scent is lingering on you,” Lorcan murmured as he leaned down. He was nose to nose with her, and Presley was certain that he was sniffing her. “I don’t like it.”
Licking her dry lips, Presley pulled her head back slightly from his. “I scrubbed really hard…”
It was just too weird. The whole werewolf/bear thing still freaked her out, and Presley wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to any of this. Scents and sounds, rabid beasts trying to attack her; how was a girl ever supposed to adjust to that?
She was pulled out of her thoughts as she felt the tip of Lorcan’s nose against her cheek. Sweet lord above, what was he doing?!
“It’ll take a little while for that scent to go away,” Lorcan whispered as he trailed his nose down to her jawline. “I’m afraid no amount of shampoo or soap will help.”
“Well that’s disappointing,” Presley managed to respond as she felt his nose moving lower, ghosting over her neck. Her eyes fell closed against her will and she allowed her head to fall to the side, giving him more access if he wanted it.
It doesn’t matter what he wants! She thought as his hot breath fanned out against her tingling skin. Don’t let him sniff you, Presley.
He smells how sweet you are, another voice chimed in. He likes the way we smell.
Oh great. That voice was back. Presley really didn’t want to deal with a split personality on top of everything else. She would surely be thrown into an asylum for the rest of her days over this.
We like the way he smells, too.
No, we don’t!
Oh, but she did. She really, really did. Lorcan reminded her of pine trees and freshly plucked grass. The woodsy scent he possessed was tantalizing, and it made her mouth water.
No, no! This is just Lorcan, remember? You got over that crush a LONG time ago.
As her eyes fluttered open, Presley began to question if she’d truly gotten over it. She turned her head, allowing the smell of his hair to infiltrate her nostrils as her mind fogged over. Maybe there was a single ember still burning somewhere in the back of her mind. Maybe there was a slight chance that the fourteen year old version of her still occupied a part of her subconscious, and that fourteen year old her still got the butterflies upon seeing sixteen year old Lorcan’s face.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
Presley’s inner debate disappeared upon hearing those words, and she pulled further away to gaze at him. She could see the pained expression on his face, and for some reason, it jabbed at her own heart. “What?”
“I’m sorry that I risked your safety like that,” Lorcan repeated. “I never should have left. I should have trusted my instincts.”
She chewed her lower lip, frowning. “Lorcan, that wasn’t your fault,” she insisted in a quieter voice. “You were just doing what Uncle Arnold asked you to do; what I wanted you to do.”
As he stared at her in mild confusion, Presley placed the ice cream container on the bed beside of her and straightened up. “I’m tired, and this has been…a lot to take in. Some stupid little part of me thought that I could go to sleep and make it all go away. I know now that I was wrong. This isn’t going away, and I’ve got to accept it, somehow. The thing is…I don’t know when that’s going to happen. How do you accept that you’re something you never knew could be possible? And furthermore, that something is what got your father killed and made your mother abandon you?”
She frowned, lowering her gaze to her hands as they rested against her lap. She shook her head slowly. “…That something that got one of your best childhood friends murdered.”
She heard the breath leaving Lorcan’s lungs, and she knew she’d said the wrong thing. She braced herself for the anger she was certain he’d release, but she was very surprised to feel his palms resting on either side of her face. She lifted her head to meet his gaze and was completely entranced with those swirling pools of chocolate. It was like he was looking right into her very soul. It made her tremble.
“Life is full of surprises, Pretz. It doesn’t matter what type of living creature you are; good and bad things hap
pen all the time, and we must learn to embrace both because that’s just how life works,” he pursed his lips together, his eyes scanning over her face as he rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t explain why terrible things happen to good people, but I do know we rise from the ashes like a phoenix. We may get burned every once in a while, and it may be the most excruciating pain we’ll ever feel; but we have to move forward with the scars left behind by those fires. We have to keep going.
“I know you’re scared. I know you’re confused about all of this and you’re unsure of what to do, but there is one thing I am absolutely positive of,” his thumb slid over her lower lip and Presley’s eyes closed again. How did he have this effect on her? How did he calm her nerves so quickly?
“I will be here every step of the way. I will help you through it, Presley. I’ll do whatever I can to make this easier for you…if you’ll let me.”
She felt the hot moisture on her cheeks before she even knew what was happening. Lorcan’s deep, husky voice echoed in her mind as the tears escaped between long lashes and slid down her face. Everything changed in that very moment; she could feel it. The walls she’d worked so hard to put up collapsed instantaneously and the bear within rejoiced.
He is ours, the voice whispered. Take what is ours and be happy. He will never hurt us like the human did.
She didn’t want to think about Tim ever again. He could never compare to Lorcan. No one could ever compete with the man who currently gathered her into his strong arms. She was crushed against his hard chest suddenly, and nothing had ever felt so right. Presley buried her face against his shoulder as the dam broke, and more tears stained the fabric of his shirt.
“It’s all right,” Lorcan whispered. “I’m right here, Presley. I’ll always be right here, just like I’ve always been.”
Oh, what a fool she’d been! Lorcan had always been one of her greatest friends. He’d always been so nice, and compassionate. What if she’d taken the initiative back then? To see where it would go?
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’m so scared, Lorcan. This is all a nightmare and I can’t wake up from it. What am I supposed to do? What are we supposed to do?”
The Truth About Kadenburg Page 15
