“Stupid fucker,” Nate hissed.
“I can’t believe you, Rick. What the fuck is wrong with you?” I said, tears forming in my eyes.
With my free hand, I brought my forearm down on Rick’s wrist, breaking the hold he had on me, then slapped his face. Thecrackof the impact wasn’t as loud as the gunshot, but it did cause some change in Rick’s eyes. His head rocked back, angry red finger marks already appearing on his cheek and the side of his mouth.
“Don’t follow me,” I warned.
“This is all your fault!” Rick screamed, turning on Nate.
For the second time in ten minutes, I saw a man turn into a wolf. Rick morphed, seamlessly changing into a large brown wolf. He crouched low on his haunches, growling at Nate.
“Get out of here, Cameron!” Nate called, not taking his eyes off of Rick. “I’ll handle this.”
Nate transformed as well. His wolf was a bit bigger than Rick’s, and the two of them circled one another. For a few seconds, I watched them snarl and snap at each other, lips peeled back to reveal wicked ivory-white teeth. Then, without warning, Rick leaped upon Nate. I watched in horror as the two wolves tumbled, biting and clawing each other.
I wanted to help, to stop them, but there was nothing I could do. At best, I’d lose a finger to one of those massive sets of jaws. At worst, one of them might accidentally kill me. Still, I didn’t flee. My eyes were locked on the fight.
Rick’s jaws snapped forward, trying to clamp down on Nate’s throat, but Nate pulled back at the last second, snarling androlling onto his back. In a move so fluid and graceful, it almost looked like magic, Nate rolled onto his back, shoved all four of his paws under Rick’s stomach, and kicked. Rick yelped in surprise and flew backward, sliding across the concrete floor and slamming into the wall.
Nate shifted back and glanced at me, irritation flashing in his eyes. “I said go. I’ll handle this.”
“But what if–”
“I’ll be fine,” Nate said. He glared across the room at Rick, who’d shifted back to his human form as well. Rick lay against the wall, wincing and holding his side.
“You fucking prick,” Rick hissed, glaring at Nate.
“I’m serious, Cameron,” Nate said. “Get out of here. Unlike some people,” he gave Rick a withering look, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Rick scrambled to his feet, stomping toward Nate, rage in his eyes. “I never wanted Cameron hurt,” he growled.
Unable and unwilling to watch more violence, I turned on my heel and rushed for the door. Before it closed behind me, I heard the sounds of cursing and scuffling. Now that Rick didn’t have the gun, I wasn’t worried about how the fight would turn out. Nate’s wolf was bigger and stronger than Rick’s. Plus, Nate was powerful and had the lean build of a fighter. Rick, while in shape, was a rich lawyer and nothing more. In their human forms, the outcome would be much the same as in their wolf forms.
I found a strange satisfaction in the fantasy of Nate pummeling his fists into Rick’s face.
Tears flowed down my cheeks as I ran. Eventually, I kicked my heels off, letting them tumble into the gutter.
In five minutes, I’d made it far enough to leave the gym behind, leaving what felt like my entire future behind. Ahead of me lay nothing but questions and worry. What had I become?Would I turn into a monster like the feral, like I think Rick might be? Or would I be more like Nate?
If what he’d told me was all true, then I’d find out very soon.
18
Cameron
When I finally clawed my way out of sleep, a myriad of thoughts fluttered through my mind. Nightmares and strange dreams had plagued me all night. Flashes of sharp canines, soft fur, growling maws, and gunshots. I lay there, eyes still closed, trying to decipher what exactly happened the night before. What was a dream, and what was real?
I remembered running from the gym, padding along the sidewalk in bare feet, my lungs burning by the time I got to a busy bar. Even in my distress, I remembered the psychotic attacker. Nate’s words about not going anywhere alone rang in my head. The bouncer didn’t even bother stopping me, too confused by the fancy dress I was wearing. Once inside, I found the place was more like a dive bar—booths and stools lined with a combination of working-class men and a few clusters of college-aged kids.
“Hey, girl? You got a man?” someone had catcalled as I hurried across the room to the bartender. I ignored them.
“Can I, uh, get you a drink?” the bartender, a pudgy man in his fifties, asked.
I flopped my clutch down on the bar, shaking my head vehemently. “No. I just needed a safe place to call a cab.”
He eyed me with concern. “Did someone hurt you?”
His worry almost sent me off into a gale of sobbing, but I managed to choke it back, wiping at the tears already running down my face.
