Havoc (26 page)

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Authors: Jeff Sampson

BOOK: Havoc
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I didn't know what to say. I knew Megan cared for me, of course she did, we'd been each other's worlds for so long. Except now I had a new world that was warped and twisted, like the movies Megan and I watched made real. I didn't know how to bring her into it. I didn't
want
to, which I hated to admit to myself. Spencer and Dalton and Tracie, who I'd only known for a week at most, they felt like my family now. I looked at Megan and I loved her, but I didn't see how she could fit in my bizarre new existence.

She sat on the edge of my bed again, elbows resting on her knees, her head resting in her palms. She stared at the floor, sniffling, still crying.

I ached inside. It hurt worse than all the physical pain I'd gone through recently combined. Tears were forming in my eyes too, blurring my vision. All of this was horrible. All the death. All the lies. All the changes I was having to make, changes parts of me longed for while other parts of me screamed and thrashed inside, wanting to go back to the simple, boring life I'd once had.

Not looking up, Megan spoke, so softly I couldn't make out what she'd said.

“What?” I asked her.

She looked up, her long hair hanging in front of her face. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her fist.

“Bite me,” she said.

I gaped at her. “I … what? Why?”

“That's how it works, doesn't it?” she said. “A bite or a scratch and the curse is mine, too.”

I almost laughed, it was so melodramatic. But if there was any time for melodrama, it was now.

“I'll be a werewolf like you then,” she continued. “Then you don't have to worry about me getting hurt. I can be like you and Dalton, I can be part of your new group.”

Stammering, I fought for the words. “But it—Reedy, no, it doesn't work like that. None of us were bit. We were made like this by some scientists who messed with our DNA before we were even born. This isn't like movies or books.”

“How do you know?” It was both a question and a demand. “Just because you started in a lab, how do you know you can't pass it on to others?”

“Because it doesn't work like that!”

She dove off the bed, landing on her knees in front of me. She grabbed my thigh and held her bare arm up toward my face. “Just try it,” she said. “Just bite me and see what happens.”

I recoiled, twisting my head away from her pale arm. “Megan, no. I'm telling you, it—”

Her fingernails dug into my leg. “Just
try
!”

We sat there for a moment, me as far back in my computer chair as I could be, her gripping my leg, her arm wavering as it hung in the air. Her lip trembled as she watched me, and her temple began to twitch.

She jumped up to her feet. “Fine, Emily. Fine. If you won't even try, I don't need you.”

She spun away from me and snatched her coat off of my bed. Not looking back, she tore open my bedroom door and stormed into the hall, down the stairs, out the front door.

I sat there, breathing shakily. I had to go after her. I needed to solve this somehow, smooth things over with her and convince her to keep it all a secret. But I couldn't move. I couldn't face her again. Before the changes, we never fought like this.
Never.
All my memories of the two of us were of laughing at sleepovers, curling up on the couch and watching DVDs, creating milkshake concoctions, talking on the phone or online well into the night about anything and everything.

Now whenever I thought of Megan, I just thought of the horrible anxiety I felt every time I was near her.

Her last words echoed in my head.
I don't need you.

She could have meant she didn't need me as a friend anymore. But in a flash, I realized—she hadn't just seen me change from werewolf to human. She'd seen Dalton, too. She didn't need me to bite her because she thought she had another werewolf who could infect her with lycanthropy.

And if she reached Dalton as he shifted into Nighttime…

“Oh no,” I gasped. I lunged for my phone and clicked over to Spencer in the contact list. I typed:
MEET ME AT DALTON'S HOUSE. EMERGENCY
!!

I ran to my bedroom window and looked out, but of course Megan was long gone, had made it to her car a block away and was driving to Dalton's.

I couldn't wait for a ride. I hustled down the stairs and burst out my front door, whooshing past my bewildered father.

And I ran.

22

BITE ME

The houses, the sidewalks, cars, children, pets, trees, flower beds, jungle gyms, stop signs—all blurs of messy, smeared color as I forced myself to run faster than I'd ever run as my normal, average self.

Sweat poured down my forehead, dripped into my eyes, soaked my hair. My muscles began to ache, but I kept going, forcing myself to run as fast as non-superhero-humanly possible. My evenings as Nighttime had tightened up my calves, my thighs. She'd improved my stamina by pure force of energy. But it was still a strain on my body without whatever receptors appeared in my brain by night, shifting me into a state between human and werewolf.

I wound around pedestrians having leisurely walks. I barreled across streets without bothering to stop and look for traffic. I was panting now, but I refused to let myself stop.

And finally, finally, I reached Dalton's neighborhood. I saw his giant house, his vast, heavily gardened lawn. Red and blue plastic cups littered the ground, and there were muddy footsteps all over the driveway. Remnants of the party that seemed as if it happened ages and ages ago.

Megan's car was parked in the driveway. At an awkward angle, as though she'd pulled in fast and didn't bother to straighten out.

I stood on the corner of the street, hands on my knees, gulping at the crisp fall air. I was here. I only had to move a little bit more. It wasn't anywhere near eight p.m. I could find Megan and convince her to leave Dalton alone.

Body aching, I hobbled across the street, onto the lawn. The front door was right there, so close. Just had to go to it, ring the bell.

From the corner of the house I heard a crunching of plastic and rustling of a bag. I blinked and turned toward the sound to see Casey Delgado standing there, paused between picking up one of the cups and throwing it into the garbage bag.

She looked me up and down. “Did you come to help clean up?”

That was the last thing I'd expected one of Nikki's lackeys, Amy's sister no less, to say.

“Uh, no,” I said, wiping my forehead on my sleeve. I'm sure my hair was a mess. “I'm looking for my friend Megan. Her car's in the driveway.”

“Who?” Casey asked.

“Tall, skinny girl?” I said, raising my hand to indicate her height. “Really long blond hair? She jumped in last night when, y'know. When your sister and I got into a fight.”

“Oh, yes, her.” She shook her head. “No, I haven't seen her.”

I heard footsteps and voices from around the corner of the house. I suppressed a groan, knowing exactly who it would be.

“Casey, who are you talking to?”

Amy rounded the corner and stopped in her tracks at the sight of me. Nikki and Brittany came next.

Amy dropped the garbage bag she'd been holding. It crumpled to the ground, party debris spilling over the lawn. Hands on her hips, she walked over the mess and marched toward me.

“You are seriously asking for it, girl,” she said. “Do you need another demonstration of what we can do before you get the hint and back off?”

I didn't mean to, but I rolled my eyes. “I am not here to steal Dalton, and I am not here to fight with you. My friend is going to get herself in trouble and I need to find her, okay? Then I'll leave you alone forever.”

“Oh, please,” Amy said. “Look, Emily Webb, I know exactly what you are—”

I scrunched my forehead. “Wait, what? You do?”

“—and I don't care. I know I can take you on, woman to woman, any day. I'm not letting you hurt anybody, let alone steal my friend's man.”

“Mm-mm, no you aren't,” Brittany said.

Nikki remained silent and glaring.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “I really, really don't have time for this. You guys have no idea what is happening. Just get out of my way.” I resumed my path to the front door, hoping Megan was inside, sitting safe and sound in a plush armchair, petting Max and chatting with Dalton.

A pair of ghostly hands gripped me beneath my armpits and lifted me into the sky. I screamed, my feet dangling above the matted grass. I struggled but couldn't free myself from the invisible harness that had hoisted me into the air.

Amy laughed, and I glared down at her. “Put me down! Please. I need to go!”

“If you say so,” Amy said.

She flicked her hand and I flew toward the side of the house. I raised my arms in front of my face, bracing for the blow, and I smacked hard against the siding. I collapsed to the grass, the wind knocked out of me.

And something shifted inside of me.

My vision went gray. Energy and strength surged through my limbs. All three sides of me were there, a co-op in my brain. I was the hybrid version of me, the all-in-one shop for any flavor of Emily Webb you could want.

And maybe it was what had happened in the lab when Spencer set off the timer, or maybe I'd just grown to understand this during my shifts over the previous days, but I finally knew what I was in this state—more specifically, what I could do. And that was to choose to be all three at once, each with her own abilities that came to the forefront, and each with her own weaknesses bolstered by the strengths of another.

Or I could choose exactly which Emily I felt like being.

Though it was the middle of the day, I chose to go Nighttime.

Color returned to my vision. I yanked off my glasses and shoved them in the pocket of my hoodie. I snapped my head toward Amy, pretty and feisty little Amy Delgado, who thought just because she had psychic powers she could bully me.

And something I'd realized a lot over the past few weeks: I absolutely despised being bullied.

The cheerleader raised her palms again, attempting to toss me once more. I crouched low and launched myself toward her. I raised my arms and grasped her wrists, yanked to spin her toward the house, and forced her back until she slammed against the same wall she'd tossed me into. I pinned her there, her arms raised above her head, useless.

“Ow!” she screeched.

“Get off her!” Nikki shouted. She was raising her hand, preparing to use her own powers on me.

I spun Amy around and flung her easily at Nikki. The two girls collided, landing in a heap on the grass.

Brittany started to move her hand toward me as well. I let the werewolf personality surge forward, for just a moment. I spun on her, snarling. Startled, she backed away.

Then, I shifted back into the hybrid, where I chose—
I
chose—to go back to Daytime Emily. I pulled my glasses from my pocket and returned them to my face.

“I told you, I don't want to fight you. I'm just looking for my friend.”

Amy struggled with Nikki, the two girls shoving at each other as they tried to get up. “You think we care?” Amy asked. “Really?”

I was exhausted. I probably should have stayed Nighttime. But she would have wanted to keep fighting. I opened my mouth to respond, trying to think of some witty retort and failing miserably.

Angry shouting and loud barks echoed around us.

“What was that?” Casey asked, looking around.

“I think it came from the backyard,” Brittany said.

Another shout, louder. Enraged. More barks, angry, defensive.

It was Megan, and Dalton's dog, Max.

I forgot all about the cheerleaders. I leaped over their fallen garbage bags, wound past Nikki and Amy still struggling to stand. I turned the corner of the house and pushed myself full force to the backyard.

Only then did I realize that if I could transform to Nighttime in midday, or even the werewolf if I wanted—Dalton probably could too.

I pumped my arms faster.

I saw her in the backyard, standing next to the McKinneys' empty swimming pool. Dalton was there too, staring at the slender girl, bewildered. Max hopped behind Dalton, snarling and barking at Megan, though the Lab made no move to jump at her.

Megan slapped Dalton across the face.

“Bite me!” she screamed. “Just do it! You're probably the one who made her like this, aren't you? You took her away from me!” She pounded a fist against his chest. “Bite me!”

Dalton stood rigid as a statue, gritting his teeth. His hands were clenched at his side, all his muscles tensed and his skin flushing red as though struggling to keep something at bay.

Struggling to keep the werewolf side down.

Max barked. Wouldn't stop barking.

Frustrated tears appeared in Dalton's eyes. “Stop it!” he bellowed. “Please! I don't know what you're talking about. It doesn't work like that!”

I forced myself to run faster, but the house was so big, the backyard and pool so far away. I took in a breath, trying to force myself back into the hybrid state so I could become Nighttime again. It didn't work.

Megan took a step forward, shoving Dalton so hard that he almost fell over the edge, into the empty pool. He grimaced, clutching at his stomach. “Stop,” he wheezed.

Megan stepped back, eyes darting, watching as Dalton gasped and doubled over again. “Are you doing it? Are you changing?”

“Get away from him, Megan!” I screamed between breaths. They didn't seem to be getting closer. Why was Dalton's house and yard so damn big?

Defiant, Megan ignored me. She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at Dalton. Her eyes were clearly frightened, but she refused to move.

And Dalton began to transform.

It happened quickly, with a crunch of bone and suction of flesh pulling from muscle. Dalton fell to his knees, his mouth open in a silent scream as his jaw lengthened, his teeth sharpened into points, and his ears climbed his head. His already taut arms bulged with stronger, tighter muscles as his fingers lengthened, sprouted into claws. His pants and shirt ripped as his body bulged larger and grew a coating of brown-and-black fur, and his clothes fell to tatters around him.

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