Dirty Blood (2 page)

Three more times I managed to dodge the wolf as it
lunged. On the fourth, its claws caught on my shirt and raked down
my abdomen on either side, driving me back. I stumbled and fell. My
back slammed onto the pavement with a hard thud. Again, I accepted
my inevitable death. I watched as she continued to come at me,
slower and more confident now that I was on the ground. All I could
see were razor canines aimed straight for my throat. I cringed and
turned away, unable to look into those bright yellow eyes, knowing
what was coming. When I turned, a glint of slivered moonlight
caught a piece of piping nearby; probably meant for the dumpster
but somehow landing here.

Again, subconscious reasoning took over and I felt
myself reaching for it, my hand closing around the cold steel. With
a grunt, I swung out.

I hadn’t expected to actually land the blow or for
the crack to be quite so loud. I felt the vibrations from it all
the way up my arm but I managed to hold onto the pipe until I felt
the wolf’s weight go slack and it crumpled in a heap, half on top
of me. I pushed it aside, which wasn’t easy, and scrambled to my
feet. After that, I just stood there, staring down at the giant
mass of fur and wondering how in the world no one else had noticed
what just happened.

As I stared, the wolf’s form began to shake and then
shimmer around the edges, going hazy, and then finally – it was the
girl again. Her long hair covered her face in stringy waves,
matting to her head on the side where the pipe had made contact.
Blood seeped slow and steady from the wound to the pavement. Her
body was naked and curled together, almost fetal, except for her
knee wedged at an unnatural angle. I could see that her eyes were
open and staring vacantly but I didn’t linger on that. I couldn’t.
My eyes were wide and disbelieving as I gaped at what lay in front
of me. I struggled to accept what I was seeing. No way. It was
impossible. People couldn’t be … wolves. That was a myth. A way for
Hollywood to cash in.

But there was no mistaking it. The girl lying in a
heap in front of me was definitely the same girl as before. And she
smelled, distinctly, of animal.

I kept hoping she’d move, or at least groan, from the
pain of the head trauma. Ignoring the feminine details of her bare
body, I stared hard at her shoulders and chest, looking for any
sign that might indicate breathing. I didn’t see any. And I knew,
deep down, that I wouldn’t.

My hands began to shake. Maybe from the cold, but I
was too numb to feel the temperature against my skin. I took a step
back and stumbled.

Hands closed around me, keeping me upright. I jolted
and tried to jerk away from the unexpected contact. A strangled
scream escaped my lips as the hands whirled me around to face my
attacker.

“Whoa. It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” he
said.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t really remember how to
speak at the moment and if I could, it would’ve been a scream
anyway. My breath came in uneven gasps and he waited until I got
myself under control.

There was concern in his eyes but that didn’t go very
far with me. I noticed vaguely that his eyes were the same exact
color as his hair, a sort of bronzed brown. The color was
fascinating; unlike anything I’d ever seen, and they seemed to hold
some dark edge that hinted at danger, no matter how gentle they
got. The rest of him wasn’t bad either. His face matched his eyes,
rugged and hard edges from his cheekbones to his jaw. When he’d
spun me around, I’d grabbed out to steady myself and even now my
hands still rested on his shoulders, where I’d first gripped.
Underneath my fingers, and the leather of his jacket, was solid
muscle.

The fact that I was actually checking him out – just
moments after killing a girl - was my first clue I was in
shock.

“Are you alright?” His gaze swept over me without
waiting for an answer, critically inspecting the rest of my body,
not unlike the once over I’d just given him.

It dawned on me that he was trying to help, and
thankfully, that dialed back my panic enough for me to find my
voice. Then again, now that my brain was convinced the danger had
truly passed, some switch seemed to release, giving me permission
to officially freak out. “I think so.” I answered automatically,
without really knowing if I was or not. I felt numb and strange
inside my own skin.

“Did she bite you?”

His voice seemed to come from inside a tunnel. I
blinked to try and clear the fog. “What?”

“Did she bite you?” His voice was firmer now and his
hands pressed down on my shoulders, trying to keep my
attention.

“No,” I answered, finding it easier to concentrate if
I stared into his unwavering, gold flecked eyes.

“Good.” A look of genuine relief passed over his
features before his eyebrows arched downward with new worry. “Are
you alone out here? Do you have a way home?”

“I-” I struggled to remember and kept my eyes fixed
on his while I waited for the answer to come. “I was taking the
bus. My ride left earlier.”

His brows curved deeper at that and he shot an almost
imperceptible glance at the exposed body lying behind me. His hands
finally dropped away from my shoulders. “Well, I’m not going to
just leave you here,” he mumbled, almost to himself. He seemed to
debate something a moment longer and then pulled a phone out of his
pocket, hitting a single button.

“Jack, its Wes. We’ve got a situation. Liliana’s
dead.” There was a pause as he listened to whoever was on the other
end. Then, “No, it wasn’t like that. It was a girl but it’s …
confusing. I can’t get a read on her at all.” Another pause and
then, “I’m in the alley behind Fleet Street. She’ll be in the
dumpster until you get here… No, not the girl, Liliana.”

I blanched at that and felt new panic rising as he
finished his call. Whatever else he said didn’t make it past the
warning bell ringing in my ears. He must’ve seen the look on my
face, though, because he quickly put his hands, palms up, in front
of him, and spoke soothingly. “I meant her- the girl you fought
with. I didn’t mean you.”

I nodded, inhaling deeply to wash away the adrenaline
that was coursing through me. I really needed to get a handle on
myself. This was ridiculous. I probably looked and sounded like a
moron, and the fact that I was shivering didn’t help, either. It
reminded me of the way the girl had been shaking, right before
she-

“What’s your name?”

His voice snapped me out of it, cutting off the
replay my brain had been about to give me. “Tara,” I answered in a
voice that sounded much weaker than I’d intended. “Tara Godfrey,” I
repeated, louder.

“Tara, I’m Wes and I’m going to help you, if you’ll
let me. Can I give you a ride home?”

“A ride? Seriously?” I gaped at him. “I just killed
that girl. We need to call the police, a coroner, somebody.”

“I made a call and someone is on his way to take care
of it.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, that didn’t exactly sound
official. And you called her by name. Liliana. You know her? What’s
going on?”

“Look, obviously you saw what’s going on,” he said, a
little impatient. “That girl wasn’t human. And I don’t think either
of us wants to answer the questions that would come with admitting
that to the police. Not that they would believe you in the first
place. So, I’m taking care of it - discreetly. And unless you want
to end up in a padded room, you’ll do the same.”

Okay, he had a point – especially about the padded
room part. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes and I was still having
a hard time with it all. I could guess how it would sound, trying
to explain it to police or doctors.

It didn’t feel good, lying about something like this,
though. I’d just killed a girl – or dog – or whatever. But, maybe
I’d be willing to deal with it – if I had some answers about what
the hell was actually happening.

“Fine, I’ll do it your way. But you have to give me
something in return,” I said.

He eyed me, wary. “What?”

“Answers. An explanation. I mean, seriously, this
kind of stuff isn’t real. Or isn’t supposed to be, but here it is.
And you seem to know a lot about it, so what’s the deal?”

He sighed in response but didn’t argue my demand.
Maybe he’d been expecting it. “I’ll tell you in the car. For now,
we’ve gotta’ get out of this alley before someone sees us. Come
on.”

“No way. We talk here and then I’ll take the bus,
like I planned.”

He glanced down at my shirt with a wry half smile. “I
don’t think that would be wise. You would draw a considerable
amount of …attention.”

I glanced down, too, and noticed for the first time
that my shirt was all but destroyed. It hung off me like a rag with
long slash marks running up both sides of my abdomen, along my
ribs. Underneath the fabric, I could see shallow slash marks on my
skin. The wounds were raised and red and looked like I’d faced off
with a cat. Oh wait. Dog.

I reached down to zip my jacket and remembered I
wasn’t wearing it.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to me.

“Thanks.” I took it and put it on, fully preparing to
just zip it up to cover the damage. No such luck. The zipper wasn’t
just broken; it was completely gone, as was a huge chunk of my
sleeve, near my wrist. Apparently the she-wolf had gotten closer
than I thought with her teeth.

“Crap.” I sighed, long and loud, letting him know
exactly how I felt about this idea. “Fine, you can take me
home.”

“Let’s go.”

He turned and started walking, slowing his pace to
match mine and blocking my view of the girl as we passed by on our
way back down the alley. We ended up in the public parking lot. The
lot was lit with yellow-bulbed street lights at each corner and in
the middle. They were like glaring spotlights compared to the pitch
darkness of the alley. My senses kicked into overdrive. Something
in me snapped. Maybe I was finally coming out of the shock I’d been
in – or maybe I’d hit a new level of “freaking out”. Either way, at
the sight of the lights, I froze.

I tried putting one foot in front of the other but it
just wouldn’t happen. I was shaking badly now, enough to make my
teeth chatter, though I felt weirdly numb and unaffected by the
cold. I didn’t even have stupid goose bumps anymore. My heart began
pounding, echoing loudly in my ears. Behind that was a rushing
sound that made me lightheaded.

“Tara?” I heard Wes calling my name. I hadn’t even
noticed him standing there.

“Tara, we need to go. My car’s over here.” His hand
closed over my arm and sent me over the edge.

I jumped away, startling both of us, and stared back
at him in panicked fear. This was all just too much.

“Tara.” Wes’ voice was low and soothing. “I know
you’re scared but I’m not going to hurt you. I’m trying to help
you. Let me help you.” He took a step closer.

Some closed off part of my brain was yelling at me,
telling me to shake it off and stop acting like a complete lunatic.
But I couldn’t seem to calm down.

“I can see that you’re in shock,” Wes said, still
edging closer while I fought the urge to bolt. “I can’t afford to
take you somewhere to be treated so I’m going to do something for
you. I’m going to help you forget – just for now. It should wear
off in the morning, and if not, I’ll help you remember. But for
right now, it’s better if you just forget for awhile. Okay?”

I didn’t answer. Partly because I was scared if I
tried to talk, I’d scream like a banshee, and partly because not a
single thing he’d just said made any kind of sense.

Apparently he took my silence as agreement because he
nodded and said, “Good, now just relax.” He was using that same
patronizing tone, the one meant to be soothing. But he was looking
at me like I was some wild animal, ready to bolt. And he kept his
distance. “Now just keep your eyes on mine. That’s right. Just
focus on me…” He murmured reassurances and somewhere around the
third or fourth one, I felt myself being drawn in. I looked down
but my body hadn’t moved. It was my mind, something inside me, that
seemed to pull closer and closer until I felt like I could reach up
and touch him. “Right here, Tara. Just look here, in my eyes. It’s
going to be okay.” I looked up and our eyes locked. His held a
piercing stare that seemed to stab all the way through me and out
the other side.

Then, it all disappeared.

~ 2 ~

“Tara? Time to wake up.”

Reluctantly, I cracked an eye against the cheery
sunlight filtering in through my window. My mother stood at my open
bedroom door, like a sentry. We both knew I wasn’t a morning
person, and we also both knew she wouldn’t walk away until she was
convinced I was really up and about.

“C’mon, get moving,” she said, slightly more
impatient, as she watched my slow progress.

I rolled over and groaned, just awake enough to be
aware of my body – and it was aching and creaking in protest of
having to move. “Mom.” My voice came out a croak. “I don’t feel so
good.”

“What’s wrong?” My mom’s impatience turned to
concern. I might not be an early riser but I rarely ever stayed
down or got sick.

“I ache, all over.” My head pounded like a bass drum
with every syllable.

She crossed to my bed and laid a hand on my forehead.
“Hmm…you’re pretty warm.” Her fingers stroked my cheek. “You
probably caught that bug that’s going around. I guess you’re
spending the day in bed. I’ll call school and let them know.”

“’kay,” I managed. Her fingers felt deliciously cool
against my skin.

“Do you want me to stay home with you today?” she
asked, suddenly looking torn.

I looked back at her, into a pair of blue eyes that
perfectly matched my own, and shook my head, not willing to worry
her. “There’s no need. I’m just going to sleep.”