Werewolf Nights (The Pack Trilogy Book 2) (6 page)

She’d give anything to remember any home, Petra thought in misery. This was hell for her not knowing anything about who she was. Whom she loved, had loved. Nothing at all. It was like she’d never existed prior to two days ago at that hotel. What had happened there? One way to find out. “We have to stop by my home first. I have a question too.”

Chapter Six

Melina was out front weeding her flowers. Saying that she was surprised at the sight of a naked couple strolling up her driveway was an understatement, Petra thought, as she choked back laughter.

But Melina was Melina.

“Little on the hot side for y’all today? There’s a thing called air conditioning, you know.”

“We’re getting plenty of air right as we are,” Raya deadpanned. Then grinned and introduced himself.

“Dang. Petra’s mate, eh? And she still doesn’t remember? That must really suck,” Melina said with sympathy.

“It’s not great,” Petra admitted. “Not a thing I can do about it though. We really do need to fix another set of problems now. I’ll just run in and –” The door opened behind Melina, and Reina stepped out.

She looked at Petra and Raya, quickly turned her head.

“Get back in the house!” Melina snapped at her.

“In a second. First, Petra… my favor?”

Her small face was miserable. Her eyes welling up with tears. Shit. What could she do?

Petra transformed, trotted to Melina, and looked up at her for a long moment. The woman looked back down, puzzlement written all over her round, brown face.

In one lightning fast movement, Petra reached out and bit her on the leg. Then sat down and transformed again, panting from the effort.

“What in the hell did you just do!” Melina sputtered with rage. “You bit my leg! Bitch!”

“I don’t believe she did that myself,” Raya said, his face motionless. “Petra, that goes against every rule in the Codec. What were you thinking?”

“You mean other than… what Codec? And like I’d give a shit if I did remember? This is life or death, and this is a fine woman. Be damned if she’ll croak if I can help it!” Petra shot out.

“What’s done is done, but don’t do it again. I won’t be able to protect you if the pack learns of your actions,” Raya said.

“I don’t need protecting,” Petra said, mouth thinned to a slit. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah. Remember that when eight wolves are ripping your goddamn arms off,” Raya muttered.

Petra turned pale, but still tried to hide it.

“Good God, what drama!”

“Excuse me,” Melina said with her own barely suppressed anger. “Would someone tell me what the fuck just happened?”

“Allow me,” Raya said before Petra could utter a word. “Next full moon, you’re going to have a problem. A big, hairy problem with long fangs.”

Now Melina went pale beneath her dark skin. She turned and looked at her daughter.

“How could you? This was your favor, wasn’t it?”

The child’s lower lip trembled and she bit it to stop the involuntary movement which would only trigger the tears in her eyes to spill over and roll down her cheeks. “Yes, Mama. I – I want you to be around for a long time is all. Don’t be mad at Petra. I asked her to.”

Melina’s face softened, then her brows lowered.

“Honey, I didn’t want you to know.”

“I knew, Mama. I’ve known all along.”

Melina grabbed her into a tight hug, then eyed Petra over the child’s head.

“I’m really going to turn furry?”

“You better believe it.”

“On the full moon, then?”

“Actually, that’s not right. You can change any time. Full moon makes it a lot easier, you expend less effort,” Petra explained.

Melina’s face grew bright.

“You mean, like right...” Instantly there was a slightly overweight tawny wolf standing, then falling in front of Petra. She and Raya both doubled over laughing. Reina watched with huge eyes. The wolf managed to get to her feet and stood for a few moments. Then she trotted a step or two before bolting like a streak into the woods. She returned, transformed and stood, naked herself, with an enormous grin.

“Oh my goodness, I never!” The grin faded. “Do I go crazy and attack folks?”

“You tell us. Did you?” Petra said.

“I reckon not.” Her brows lowered again briefly as she reached a hand to her full breasts. Then she went pale again. “God. Petra, God! I have two tits again.” Tears filled her eyes.

“I’m so glad for you,” Petra said, trying not to cry herself. She hadn’t known Melina was missing a breast. Looking on the ground now, though, she spotted the prosthesis. “I never even knew.”

“I feel different,” Melina said. “Can’t really describe it, but I feel sort of new. Alert, healthy, energetic!”

Suddenly Raya stopped mid-laugh and cocked his head to the side.

“Shhhhh!” he said to the two women, raising an index finger to silence Melina’s question to Petra of what was happening.

He sniffed the air and then shifted his head to the other side. Turning slowly, he walked over to the bushes which marked the forest’s edge, listened briefly for a moment, and then raced back. “Quickly! Melina, your television?”

“Right inside.”

Melina led the way up to the porch to the door. As they walked in, Raya bringing up the rear, he stopped short just as he stepped into the living room. He stood, sniffing the air, then said “there’s a strange odor in here. Familiar, but strange.” He walked the rest of the way in.

“You saying my house stinks?” Melina responded with a grin.

“No, not at all. Is that your dad on the couch, there?” Raya asked in a whisper.

“That’s Joseph; we don’t know who the heck he is! Petra rescued him from the bayou yesterday.”

Raya’s face cleared as he was overcome with the recollection of where he knew the scent from.

“Damn me for a fool. Cilla! He smells exactly like Cilla does. Melina, do you mind having another guest? I happen to have brought a girl back from Europe who is – well, she must be some kind of relative of Joseph’s, as they smell exactly alike.”

“Sure, bring her. Maybe she can help him. He’s weak, sick and refuses a doctor,” Melina said as she clicked on the television. A commercial was airing, so she and Petra made a dash for the stairs. They returned clothed and with a clean shirt and some cargo shorts for Raya. As the small group sat down in front of the television, Raya made a quick call to Heureuse for someone to bring Cilla over. As he hung up, the news came back on.

***

“And now we’re going back to our story about the girl who discovered a serial killer. Local police would never have known there was a serial killer stalking their town if it hadn’t been for a college student who was working on an English creative writing assignment. Carol Saunders is with us now live in Central Park. Carol, what first caught your eye with these deaths?”

A young, pretty blonde interviewer stood in the park next to a heavy girl wearing an ankle-length dress.

“We were asked to find out about a bunch of deaths and attempt to create a story that could somehow tie them all together and we could just make that part up, you know. Anyway, I set up a Google alert for all the deaths that occurred over a week, and when the emails started to come in, I realized that five men died in two states in a matter of days. I was going to fictionalize their deaths, you know, make them all have died in the same way but then I didn’t have to. Every one of them was strangled and found with a thick chain around their necks wrapped around a tree. They were sitting at the base of these trees, each in a different city. It got me to thinking, where would they be if I mapped them out? So I used their addresses from the news, and this is what I found.”

A map appeared on screen with five stars. The girl’s voice said, “Once I saw these locations, it occurred to me that if I did this,” a ruler appeared on the map, laid on the stars. It was evident that the locations were in a straight line from New York to Pennsylvania. The camera pulled away, and the picture was clear: the ruler stretched directly to New Orleans. “I called the guy the Dog Collar killer and predicted he’d hit again in West Virginia, and not even an hour ago I got an alert that another guy had been found, chain and all, in Huntington. Our outlines were due about an hour ago and my professor said I should take it to the police. I did, and they kind of laughed at me. So I called News 5 and here I am!”

“You’ve done a great job and you deserve an Eyewitness Award. There’s a five thousand dollar reward coming your way, young lady! Now in other news…”

Raya muted the TV. “Dog Collar killer, eh. Not too far off from wolf killer, is it now?”

“Not at all,” Petra said slowly. “You know, I just wonder if...”

There was a knock on the door. Melina stood, and went to admit Cilla. The girl walked in, smiling shyly, until she got a look at the couch and its inhabitant. She froze, then approached the sleeping Joseph.

“What’s his name?” She asked Melina.

“Joseph.”

“Thanks. Hey Joseph, you OK? They said you’re some kind of relative of mine,” Cilla said to the motionless form.

He groaned.

“Don’t have any relatives. Who are…” He opened his eyes and looked at Cilla. Instantly he struggled to sit up, moaning from the effort of the sudden movement. “Thank the gods. Can I feed from you?” he asked, reaching out for her.

Cilla’s eyes widened and she immediately backed away from him.

“What are you talking about? Feed from me?”

Joseph’s energy ran out and he slumped back onto the couch. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You don’t know what you are… what we are, do you?”

“Uh, no.”

“We are the second oldest two-legged species after man,” he said with pride. “We’re called Specius Vampirata. The humans call us ‘vampires.’

Melina let out a shriek of fear as Raya leaped in front of Petra: all of which happened as Cilla stood transfixed next to the couch in complete confusion.

“What’s a vampire?” she asked.

“We feed on blood and we don’t die, for the short version. I have no more energy,” Joseph said apologetically.

“Damn bloodsuckers,” Raya spat. “I thought your kind was long gone.”

“We harm no one,” Joseph said. “We only feed on each other. I’d have thought your kind would know that.”

“That’s not always true! I had a friend killed by a vampire,” Raya said with fury.

“Must have been at birth, then. The only time we can feed on humans.”

“Excuse me,” Cilla said. “How much blood do you need?”

“About half a cup,” Joseph said, and it was apparent he’d said all he was able to. He fell all the way onto his back and closed his eyes.

Cilla sighed. “All right. What do I do?”

“No,” Joseph whispered. “Not like this. Not unwillingly. It’s special between us, the act of feeding. It should never be done with an unwilling participant.”

“You don’t look too good, though,” she said.

“I’m not, but that doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Yes, it does. Come on, tell me. I don’t mind. I can’t stand the thought of not helping someone who’s as sick as you.” She went and sat on the edge of the couch. “Here I am. Go ahead.”

He wheezed a laugh. “Never have I had such a welcoming offer! If you’re certain, then please hold your wrist to my lips. I’m afraid I can’t move, myself.”

Cilla obligingly held out her wrist to the old man’s dried-up lips. He lifted his head slightly, opened his mouth and bit. She squeaked, but then fell silent, her eyes widening.

For several moments, the room was completely silent as the old man fed. Cilla noticed first. “Holy shit, look at him!”

Petra stood and moved around the girl to get a better look.

“This is impossible,” she whispered, in shock.

The old man wasn’t old anymore – not by a long shot.

Chapter Seven

Melina’s living room was a scene of absolute bedlam. Raya was shouting in disbelief, Petra was nearly on top of Joseph, poking and prodding his muscled chest. Cilla was crying with delight, while Joseph himself just stood in the midst of it all and grinned.

Raya’s phone rang. Instinctively, he patted down his pockets, but of course, he didn’t find it. He looked down in dismay at the borrowed clothes that he wore and wondered where the ringing was coming from. Suddenly, Cilla snapped out of her bewilderment and dug into her pocket, producing the instrument and handing it to him apologetically.

He pressed the green button, put the instrument to his ear and listened. He grunted and hung up.

“Shit. A friend of mine in the customs department at La Guardia Airport says that a bunch of known Rats flew in three days ago. Four of their lead guys arrived Friday. USCIS lost track of them; no one knows where any of them are at the moment.”

“What are Rats?” Petra wondered.

“A bad pack out of Europe,” Raya informed her. “Not a normal pack, either. It ranges from twenty members to over a hundred.” At her puzzled glance, he added, “Normal packs have eight members.”