Feral Nights (22 page)

Her eyes glint red. “You don’t care. You barely know them. Tell me, kitty Cat: Is it true that you have nine lives?”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can hear her voice, but it’s a struggle to make sense of the words. “What was your name again?”

“Elina.” She flings the dead bird away. “Don’t like shifter blood.” She pouts, reaching up to caress my cheek. “Too gamy, but you can please me in other ways.”

I like the sudden feel of her in my arms, against my chest. “You’re a vampire.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Am not.”

“Are, too.” Why don’t I run or fight? Why don’t I
want
to?

“I am an eternal.” She buckles the collar around my neck. “I am eternity itself.”

Her fangs are missing. What’s she planning to do, lick me to death?

Come to think of it, there are worse ways to die.

As I raise my claws, I’m not sure if it’s to strike or tease.

The jungle melts away, and we’re transported to a castle courtyard. From a distance, I hear a cello, then a string quartet. All around, I see blurred figures waltzing in formal wear. A dashing young bald man in a tux, cape, and top hat winks as he passes by.

“This is where the new eternal queen preens,” Elina informs me. “One of her many residences. I do hate her so. Since the sixties, she’s insisted on calling me ‘Elly May.’” At my puzzled look, she clarifies: “The 1960s.” Which doesn’t help.

“You should have been queen. You’re an Old Blood, far more exquisite and merciless than she’ll ever be. And besides, she’s French.” Beats me what I’m talking about, but it seems to delight Elina.

She rips my shirt in two and peels the sweaty remains off my skin. Her sharp nails trail down my chest, carving bloody lines. She circles one of my nipples, and blood wells. “I’ll have to share you with Victor, but you won’t mind. Or at least he won’t.”

The waistline of my jeans doesn’t faze her. Neither does the top button. She adds, “I won’t let him hurt you more than you want to be hurt.”

Her fingers explore places I’m soft and hard and harder still. So do her fingernails. I feel blood streaming, soaking my briefs. I’m powerless to do anything about it. So far, it’s all in fun, but if she becomes much more aggressive, I may end up a soprano.

“I’ll inspect his toys,” she promises. “I’ll approve the when and where of teeth.”

Her red lips glisten, beckon me closer. “I’ve never ridden a Cat,” she muses, nibbling my lower lip. “In all these long years, I’ve never —”

A blow knocks us both off our feet, and a familiar voice commands, “Get your forked tongue off my precious baby brother, you ungodly arrogant whore.”

THE COURTYARD DISINTEGRATES . . .
the castle, the classical music, and the elegant dancers. I’m in the island jungle again. No, I never left.

Elina’s face turns furious, like a gargoyle. She vanishes into mist.

Not that she matters. My savior has my undivided attention. She’s painted red wings on her arms and shoulders, an eye on her forehead, dotted her nose, and drawn whiskerlike lines from its tip to either side.

The effect is otherworldly. Is she the sister I’ve always loved, a murderous temptress, or some ancient Egyptian goddess, newly reborn?

Wincing, I sit up. “Ruby? My God, Ruby, it
is
you!”

How long has she been on the island? Was she watching me — watching over me — this whole time? I wonder if she really murdered the Armadillo boy, whether she knows the Dillo royal family has a price on her head, and why she never mentioned being a secret agent. I want to tell her how worried I’ve been, and how relieved I am to see her alive. Instead, I say, “Thanks, but I was holding my own with that one.”

Ruby hauls me to my feet. “She had you in her thrall. And just FYI, that walking corpse is a soulless, psychopathic serial killer who’ll not only drain you dead but, just for fun, harvest the gelatin from your bones to make Jell-O shots.”

“You’ve studied demonology?” I ask.

“And seen a lot of monster movies,” Ruby replies, pulling me into a hug. Unbuckling the jeweled collar from my neck, she adds, “I cannot believe you left Grams at home alone with Wilbur!”

I wish to God I’d found Ruby anywhere else. “Wilbur’s fine,” I say. “He has more friends in Butler County than the both of us put together.”

It’s true. He’s a popular pig, a blue-ribbon winner. He got his picture on the front page of the
Butler Eagle
and everything.

A roar explodes in the night — another.

“Werebears?” Ruby mutters, dropping the collar.

We’re off. Her stride is shorter, but she’s just as fast. She’s been training.

“Careful,” I warn. “We dug pits —”

“I know,” Ruby assures me, darting between two skinny trees. “I saw.”

On the opposite side of camp, the werebears loom, enormous in full animal form. I can’t tell which one is Luis and which one is Brenek.

Standing on hind paws, gripping each other’s shoulders, in the dark, they almost look like they’re dancing. But with snapping, bloodied teeth, there’s no mistaking the growls for play. One has a bloody patch where his ear used to be.

“Cut it out!” I yell, trying to push them apart. “Brenek! Luis! What’s wrong —?”

A front leg lashes out, knocking into my chest. Ruby catches me in midair.

“Do not insert yourself into the middle of a werebear fight,” she scolds.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” I exclaim, rubbing the already-sore spot where I was struck. “They’re not fighting. Or at least they shouldn’t be. They’re friends.”

Brenek and Luis careen over, and that’s when I see red smoke hovering over them. “They’re ensorcelled,” Ruby whispers. No need to kill us if we kill each other.

Scooping up a stone, I weigh it in my hand. I have to break the spell, like Ruby did with Elina and me. But as I pull back my arm to throw, Ruby says, “It’s too late.”

One of the Bears is dead.

As the smoke thins out, the survivor roars in anguished surprise. When it’s clear he won’t turn on us next, I drop the rock and it lands with a thud.

Bones crack, and thick, dark hair retracts, finally revealing Brenek.

Which means the Bear-form body on the ground must be Luis. Must have been Luis.

Still mostly covered in fur, Brenek chokes out, “I don’t . . . How could I —?”

“It’s not your fault,” Ruby insists. “They’re using magic to manipulate us.”

Brenek’s nude, now man-shaped form is covered in oozing claw marks. But he can’t take his eyes off the friend he just slaughtered. “It’s not impossible to break a spell if you have enough willpower. Something I’m apparently short on.”

“Luis could’ve killed you just as easily,” I reply. “You can’t blame yourself.”

“It’s not that simple,” Ruby says at the same time. When Brenek remains frozen in place, she slaps him hard across his bleeding face. “Torture yourself later,” Ruby suggests. “In the meantime, we need you.”

It’s tough love, and it works. Brenek notices her for the first time. “You’re here.”

I recall that they know each other from the interfaith coalition he told me about.

Glancing my way, Ruby asks, “What’s the plan?”

My sister’s never been one to defer to me, though she used to always ask my opinion. It’s nice to see that hasn’t completely changed, even if she has been living a secret life. I say, “We have to find Teghan and the Wolves. Then make a run for the lodge and down to the dock. The hunters are a deadly distraction. We can’t keep letting them suck us in. All that matters is that we get to freedom and that nobody else dies.”

Right then, Teghan, screeching, bursts into the clearing with James and Mei snarling at her heels. “Yoshi!” she yells. “Somebody, help!”

I don’t understand. Why’re they so pissed at the kid? Are they enchanted, too?

As the Wolves pass, Brenek snags one and rips off its head.

“No!” I exclaim, swooping Teghan in my arms. “Brenek’s losing it again.” I lift her onto the nearest overhanging limb so she can catch her breath.

Ruby breaks a smaller branch off the tree behind me. “No, he’s not!”

The decapitated wolf-shaped body morphs seamlessly into human form, a fully clothed man, and not James. I’ve never seen the guy before.

He falls in two pieces onto the jungle floor. It’s like a glamour has been ripped away.

The second werewolf — no,
vampire
in wolf form — reveals herself as Elina. She’s not winded. There’s not a long, dark hair out of place. Her gown isn’t even wrinkled.

“Darling, foolish Victor.” Glaring at Brenek, she says, “Bad Bear.”

Then she lifts the head of her formerly undead — now
dead
dead — partner by his spiky hair and kisses it on the lips.

Meanwhile, Ruby raises her improvised stake.

I whisper, “Don’t look into her eyes.”

“I’m not an amateur,” my sister replies. “While you’ve been on the farm, I —”

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?” Brenek asks Elina, interrupting our bickering. “I’m talking Chicago. North Shore.” Despite everything, he smiles. “The castle courtyard. I was in Bear form. . . .”

I can’t help wondering if it’s the same courtyard Elina showed me while I was enthralled. “Excuse me,” I pipe up. “Do you two know each other?”

Elina’s jaw drops. She recoils from Brenek, tosses Victor’s head like a hot potato, and, hissing, dissolves into mist. My sister and I gape at the Bear for an explanation.

“Chicago’s a tough town” is all he’ll say.

NOELLE WOULD BE FASTER
in animal form, on three good legs instead of one, but if she’d come along, her injury still would have slowed me down. So she’s scouting out the grounds, guards, and fire, strategizing our way through the lodge.

Meanwhile, I’m tracking a hunter. If not for the handgun, it’d be hard to take her seriously. Remove the night-vision goggles, and she could be any suburban mom playing Mrs. Great White Hunter for Halloween.

I run a big tongue over big teeth, feeling every inch the jungle king.

I love it so much that I let the hunter get a shot off.

“Yoshi!” shouts a female voice, and someone else says, “Get down!”

I can’t see them through the plant life, though I never had such fantastic vision before tonight.

Is Yoshi dead? Aimee will be heartbroken if the Cat doesn’t make it out alive.

“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!” the hunter calls. “I mean, I’ll shoot again.”

“Liar,” a rumbling voice taunts. “You said the hunt meant nothing to you.”

The woman takes cautious steps. “No need to take it so personally. I just want to bag a head or two before taking off to Cabo, if only to prove I was here.”

As she raises the gun again, I pounce, using muscles that are new to me. I have no thought but to stop her from hurting anyone else.

My front paws strike her shoulder blades, sending her flying. She somehow falls
through
the ground, screaming, and then goes deathly silent.

Mystified, I tentatively explore the surrounding mud and undergrowth with my right front paw, testing for quicksand. Hunkering low, I feel more Possum than Lion as I creep to the edge of a previously camouflaged pit. What with the wooden spikes protruding from her broken body, the woman looks like a giant, grotesque voodoo doll.

Navigating around the pit, I move toward where the shifters’ voices came from.

I didn’t mean to kill the hunter. I’ve never want to kill anyone, except maybe . . .

“Yoshi,” a feminine voice says again, this time more gently.

I raise my Lion’s head to face Travis’s murderer, the infamous Ruby Kitahara. She’s with her brother and a huge, naked guy that I’ve never seen before.

A girl drops down from a branch and tells Yoshi, “You were supposed to duck.”

His side is bleeding. “Next time,” the Cat promises. “Don’t worry. It’s not bad.”

Ruby rushes to check on him. “It’s not good either. The bullet only grazed you, but . . .” She gingerly examines the wound, and he hisses.

“You’ve probably broken ribs,” Ruby says.

He’ll live. It’s not like blood’s pouring out.

I’ve been hurt way worse than that.

The younger girl peels off her T-shirt, which is no big deal, given that her sports bra covers more than the average bikini top. She offers it to Yoshi. “Use this.”