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Authors: Anne Berkeley

BOOK: Feral
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My legs carried me swiftly though the yar
d and into the woods—to grandmother’s house we go—kidding, but seriously, it was the quickest path away from Marcus, and closer to home.  I didn’t give a shit if I had to crawl through the sewers of Manhattan, I just didn’t want to look at his face.  Unfortunately, it was dark.  I couldn’t see anything in front of me.  Twigs and branches whipped against my arms and legs.  I shielded my face with my arm, averse to taking an eye out, and then I almost fell as the ground rose and fell beneath my feet.  Catching myself on a small sapling, I stopped for a breath.  My throat felt raw.  I had no saliva to swallow.

“Damn it,
Thale!” Marcus yelled.  He said something about being in the woods, but I didn’t wait around to listen.  I pushed myself faster than I dared to, stopping for nothing, desperate to elude him.  Stickers ripped and pulled at my legs and sleeves, tearing at my skin.  I fell, scraping my palms.  They stung as I curled my fingers, pushing myself harder.  My legs were long and I covered ground quickly.  I kept the moon over my right shoulder, bearing south.  If I stayed on course, I should come out on the three-thirteen.  Regrettably, I’d left my cell in Marcus’s truck.  I berated myself mentally for that.  There were no gas stations or convenience stores in the area, being mostly residential.  The walk home would be a long one.

Slowly, my eyes began to adjust and I could see the faint outline of the larger vegetation like trees and brush.  The stickers were unrelenting, however.  I could feel my arms and legs stinging.  Slowing my pace, I blotted my hands on the legs of my pants.  They wept slowly, fresh beads of blood rising to the surface of my palms.  I could smell the metallic scent of it.

Ahead, I could see several large, round shapes clustered together, no higher than my knee.  Rocks, I realized, catching my toe and nearly tumbling over a smaller one.  When I reached the circle of stones, I paused to catch my breath.  Sitting on the larger of the boulders, I checked my scrapes the best I could in the light available.  All the while, I hissed a string of curses, damning Marcus and Peyton to the fiery pits of hell.  On special occasions, I hoped Hell was quantifiable.  Today earned a special mark on my list of exceptions.

Behind me, I heard a twig snap, followed by a long stretch of gurgling.  The hairs on my arms stood on end.  “Marcus?” I said in a small, girly voice, knowing intuitively it
most definitely was not Marcus.  Some baser instinct told me to run, but logic overruled.  I was a person of science.  I didn’t believe in things that went bump in the night.  As far as I was concerned, finding Marcus screwing my best friend was, by far, the most monstrous thing I’d ever witness.  I was sure of it.

On the other hand, I did believe in dogs.  And at the moment, a rather large
dog materialized about three yards away, bearing his teeth in a manner impossible to mistake for a smile.  A deep, raspy growl only confirmed my observation.  His head dropped in line with his shoulders, ears flat to his head.  A fan of Caesar Millan, the dog whisperer, I stood my ground.  This proved ineffective.  He snarled.  In response, I assumed a defensive stance, hoping vainly that the lessons at Tiger Schulmann’s would be worthwhile.  Fuck an A if I couldn’t remember a thing.

Running, unfortunately, was out of the question.  I had two legs; he had four, and night vision
, to boot.  In any event, he didn’t give me a chance.  He lunged and I kicked, following through with the weight of my leg.  The dog flew sideways, tumbling across the ground.  He rolled right back to his feet and came at me again.  This time, he latched onto my forearm.  My adrenaline was pumping so I didn’t scream.  Truthfully, I didn’t even feel any pain.  Instead of pulling back and playing a game of tug with my arm, which I’d rather not use as a chew toy, I pushed forward and gouged at his eyes.  This earned a yip.  He promptly released my arm and fell back.  This didn’t deter him for long.  Regrouping, he circled, lunging and feinting until he found his opening and latched onto my ankle.  He tugged so hard, my legs went out from under me.  My elbow hit the hard packed soil and broke the fall, but I wasn’t aware of the boulder behind me.  I heard a crunch as my head made contact.  Stars flashed behind my eyes.  Still, I didn’t feel any pain.  The dog mauling my neck was the last thing I remember, and the sound of his pack mates arriving.  I was thankful of the blackness engulfing my vision.  I wouldn’t have to die while they devoured me alive.  I’ve watched National Geographic enough to know they disemboweled you first.  The thought was less than appealing if I do say so myself.

Chapter 2

I woke to the sound of voices, but my first half-conscious thought was, I should be in a world of pain.  But I wasn’t.  I mean, sure, my head ached, but it was tolerable.  My throat felt thick with sleep.  My mouth was dry.  And my neck itched terribly.  Absently, I lifted my hand, discovering a large square of gauze taped gratuitously from my neck to shoulder.

“I wouldn’t do that,” a voice warned.

“JesusMaryandJoseph!” I gasped, holding my heart in my chest.  My pulse raced beneath my palm, wrenching me mercilessly into full consciousness.  From the corner of the room, emerged a trifle girl with long brown hair.  She wore it in loose curls, held back only by a blue satin ribbon.  She had large, brown eyes and an odd smile that she meant to look timid, but looked wooden and unnatural.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Where am I?” I asked, struggling to sit up right.  Flitting toward me in a movement that left me reeling, she nudged me back down into the mattress with more ease than I would’ve thought possible.  She couldn’t have weighed more than eighty pounds, give or take.

“You really shouldn’t move yet.  Not until Icarus checks your
injuries.”

“Who’s Icarus?”

Pondering the question, the girl bit the inside of her cheek.  “He’s right.  It might be best if he answers your questions.  I’m afraid I couldn’t answer them with the same discretion.”  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she stared blatantly, neglecting to speak any further.  She made me feel like a spider under glass, or a puddle of vomit.  Neither depiction was savory.

“Maybe you should get Icarus,” I suggested.

“No need,” she purred, unwilling to leave my side.  Cocking her head to the side, she stared expectantly at the bedroom door.  In the hall beyond, I heard a booming voice above the susurration of others, ordering them to disperse at once.  They promptly dispersed.  I could hear their rambunctious footfalls thudding up and down the hall, accompanied by a medley of raucous laughs and hoots and the occasional sound of protest.  Something tickled the back of my skull, leaving me with the niggling urge to disperse, too.

“I think I should go,” I told the girl, trying again to stand.
  “I’m late anyhow.”

“Icarus!” she shouted unhappily, wrestling with me.  It was a futile effort on my part.  Either she was unusually strong or I was very weak.  Maybe both, I dithered.  The girl was eerie.

The door clicked open and through it emerged a tall, dark haired man that appeared to be around thirtyish.  He was tall and lean, but not over-muscled, wearing a pair of faded khakis and a white tee.  His eyes flashed to the bed where I sat struggling under the girl’s hand.  “Rest, he said simply.  I rested, the back of my skull tickling again.  The small exertion left me feverish and exhausted, a battle lost.  And why was I trying to leave anyway?  Resting was a much better idea.  Resting was good.  I closed my eyes briefly, allowing the spinning in my head to abate.

Lord was I hung over.

“They keep opening the door and peeking in,” the girl complained in a tone that said she didn’t share their interest. “And they woke her up.”


Hailey, why don’t you run to the bathroom and find some fresh dressings while I speak to…”


Thaleia,” I said, when his eyes set on me.  Nice eyes they were too.  Stunning actually.  They were a pale white-blue, striking against his stark black hair.

Disgusted with myself, I quickly shook off my stupor.  I had no idea
where I was, or how I got there.  I wasn’t in a hospital, and judging by the male oriented décor I wasn’t even in a clinic and there I was ogling men.


Thaleia,” he repeated, testing the sound of it.  “Do you have a nickname, Thaleia, or a last name?”


Thale.  Llorente,” I said separately and concise.  I much liked the way he said Thaleia better.  So did he, evidentially.

“Well,
Thaleia,” he said, pulling up a wooden desk chair and dropping onto it with complete insouciance.  “Can you tell me what happened to you last night?”

“Why don’t you tell me where I am, first?”

“My humble abode, but I think your story takes precedence at the moment.”

“Why am I here?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“No I mean, why didn’t you take me to the hospital?”

“You’re health is in no danger.  You’re stable.  Now, I’ve answer two of your questions.  And you’ve yet to answer mine.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything from the beginning.”  There was that tickle in my skull again.  Perhaps it came with the brain injury.  “Start with the party.”

While the compulsion to answer was nearly irrepressible, there was no way I was prattling away my problems to some stranger.  Or getting Jack in trouble for underage drinking.  I wasn’t a hypocrite or a nark.  I gritted my teeth.  “What party?”

“Jack Medley’s party.”  Leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, he drew in a short breath.  His nose wrinkled.  “Lemon, vodka, it’s not subtle, Thaleia.  But don’t worry, Jack’s not in any trouble, so if you don’t mind, it’s important that you answer my question.”

“Fine.  I had a few drinks and then I left.”

“Why?”

“It was beat.”

“What is your relation to Marcus Pera?”

“Are you a cop or something?” I asked.  Then belatedly, something occurr
ed to me.  Had the dog attacked Marcus first before it turned on me?  “Is Marcus ok?  Was he hurt too?”  God, was it his dying breath, I heard?  Was he gurgling on his own blood?

“I’m not a cop, and Marcus is fine, but he did leave you in a rather precarious situation and since the incident occurred on my property, he’s made it my business.  Now, I need you to tell me in as much detail as possible about what happened last night.”

“Did he
see
what happened?” I asked, my tone sharpening at the end, my voice growing progressively louder.  “He
saw
me being attacked by some rabid dog and he ran away—he just left me there?  That fucker!”  And here I’d thought he hit an all time low.

Icarus arched one dark brow above one white-blue eye.  “Are you capable of answering a question without making it a question?”

Oblivious to Icarus’s observation, I sat up, releasing a torrent of expletives about what I was going to do to Marcus Pera the next time I saw him.  I might’ve made threats to certain parts of his anatomy, which undoubtedly housed his brains.  Only half out of the bed, I discovered much to my alarm that I was bare as the day I was born.  Snagging the sheet that had fallen away from me, I covered my breasts, my eyes widening to two astounded orbs.

“Where,” I snarled, “are my clothes?”  Taking the sheet with me, I stumbled from the bed.  The blood rushed from my head in the sudden shift in gravity, leaving me swaying woozily.

“We had to remove them in order to treat your injuries,” Icarus answered, rising slowly, from the chair.  “They were ruined anyway.”

Backing toward the door, I pointed at him, as if there were someone else in the room.  “You stay right there!  If you come any closer, I’ll scream like the fucking devil, and trust me, I’ve got lungs like Freddy Goddamn Mercury!”

Finding something I said amusing, Icarus smirked.  “I’m one step up from Marcus, I see.  My testicles haven’t yet warranted threats.  That’s a good sign.  On the other hand…” his brows furrowed.  “…he must’ve done something really bad.”

“You have
no
idea,” I said, reaching for the knob.  Twisting it, I tugged the door open and backed into the hall.  I could feel a draft ride up my exposed derrière as the hastily fastened linen fell loose.  Goosebumps prickled my skin, standing my baby fine hairs on end.

“Holy Mary Mother of God,” said a male voice behind me.  I whirled on my toes.  Not two feet to away stood three boys measurably younger than Icarus.  They were brothers, judging by their physiognomies and builds.  They looked alike, though each unique and different.

“Stop staring at her you perverts!” Hailey barked behind me.  Looking over my shoulder, I found another two boys, though they looked uncannily similar.  I blinked twice.  Was I seeing double?  No. 
Twins
.  Coppery-haired, blue-eyed twins.  They were huge.  Larger than Icarus, and significantly larger than Hailey, who undeterred by their size, was giving them slack.

“We’re keeping her, Icarus, right?” said one of the first three, pleadingly.  He stood on his toes, peering between the shoulders of his
cohabitants, straining to get a better view of my backside.  “Oh God please say yes.  I’ll never ask for anything ever again!”

Stepping back into the bedroom, I took my chances with Icarus, closing the door behind me.  “Turn around at least so I can fix myself,” I demanded.  He did.  I quickly adjusted the sheet, wrapping it around my torso and tucking one corner
under to secure it in place.  “Ok.”

Turning, Icarus gave me a once over, his eyes sweeping slowly down and up again, then settling on my neck.  I was bleeding.  I could feel where my wounds opened again, weeping fresh blood through the gauze bandages concealing them.

Behind me, there was a soft rap at the door, and Hailey peeked in, proffering fresh bandages, iodine, and a roll of tape.  “Do you need my help?” she offered, stepping inside and closing the door.  “I can stay.  Maybe she—Thaleia—would feel more comfortable?”

“I could use the help,” Icarus agreed without waiting for me to answer.  Moving the chair closer to the bureau, he opened the sterile envelopes of gauze then lined them up along the surface, followed by the iodine.  The tape he handed back to Hailey.  “Tear about seven small strips about five inches long each.”

As Hailey began tearing the strips, Icarus turned to me.  “Sit,” he ordered, tickling the back of my skull.  Short of rational thought, I padded softly to the chair and sat down.  I angled my head carefully, and pulled my hair over my shoulder and out of the way.  Icarus began peeling the tape slowly away from my skin, solicitous of the wounds beneath.  His fingers were warm and gentle.  He worked quietly except for the soft lull of his breathing.

“What time is it?” I asked.  “How long was I out for?”

“A little past two AM.”  From his pocket, Icarus pulled my iPhone.  “I took the liberty of texting your parents.  You’re spending the weekend with a friend.  They’re expecting you home Sunday afternoon.”

“Where did you get that?” I snapped, snatching
my phone from his hand.  From Marcus’s truck, obviously.  That’s where I had left it.  “If you already know Marcus, then why all the questions?  What are you playing at?”

“I know
of
Marcus,” Icarus clarified.  “But I don’t know him.”

Letting my back down, I relaxed again into the chair.  “No big loss there.”

“You don’t get along.”

“Contrary, we got a long quite well until I found him screwing my best friend last night at Jack’s house.”  Hearing Hailey’s squeak of umbrage, I flushed.  She couldn’t be more than twelve.  But I was used to living with Bennie.  “Language, sorry, I forget myself.”

“I have six brothers,” Hailey dismissed.  “I’ve heard much worse.”  Tearing the last strip of tape from the roll, she stuck it to the end of her finger, leaving only three free fingers to work with.  “It’s just that you’re so pretty, why would he do something so stupid?”

Flushing darker, I declined to answer.  Peyton was offering it, I wasn’t.

“You think so Icarus, don’t you?” Hailey pressed.

“Oh, it was definitely stupid,” Icarus agreed, dodging the question.

“That’s not—”

“Hand me the iodine, Hailey, would you please?” said Icarus, holding out his hand.  Hailey stared suspiciously then handed Icarus the iodine and a clean swab of gauze.

“So that’s why you ran off into the woods last night.  It all makes sense, Icarus, why he was chasing her.  I mean, at first he probably just wanted to stop her, but she fell a few times.  You did, didn’t you?” Hailey said, turning the attention back to me.  “You fell.  That’s why you’re your hands were all scraped up.  And the smell of the blood; it was like a siren’s song.  You most likely stimulated his instinct to hunt, and then like I said, the smell of your blood probably sent him over the edge and he shifted.”

Hunt
?  Shift?  I couldn’t help it.  I snorted a laugh.  “You’ve an imagination like my brother.  He stays up all the time watching Grindhouse.  Gingersnap is his favorite.  Personally, American Werewolf in London is the best.  It’s a cult classic.”

Hailey’s eyes narrowed.  “You think I’m joking.”

“Well, yeah, seriously,
werewolves
?”  My eyes flickered between the two of them, taking in their grim expressions.  “It was a dog,” I told them, firmly.  “One with rabies if I had to guess.  You should’ve taken me to the hospital.  In fact, you should take me now.  I can call my parents on the way.”

“Hailey, wait outside,” Icarus ordered.  Peeling the last of the dressing from my neck, he folded neatly in half and in half again before dropping it into the small waste
basket.  “Now.”

Hailey gazed
balefully at me for a brief moment before nodding and vacating the room.  Honestly, her reaction disturbed me.  I expected her to break out into an uproarious guffaw or considering her size and age, a mischievous giggle might be more realistic.  But I hadn’t expected the hate I found in her eyes.  Admittedly, it made my stomach curl.

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