Dirty Blood (4 page)

“Fine. I don’t know what started it. I wasn’t there
for that part. By the time I got there, Liliana was already on the
ground.”

“On the ground? You mean I hurt her?”

“Yes, which was definitely a surprise to me and why
I’m here now. But what you need to know is that Liliana was more
than just some girl. She was a Werewolf.”

Wes might’ve kept talking after that, but all sound
and movement suddenly ceased for me. I was still stuck on that last
word: Werewolf. I would have laughed out loud right then, but there
was no denying Wes was serious. He absolutely believed that this
Liliana girl was a Werewolf and the look on his face told me
arguing wouldn’t change a thing. This just figured. The hottest guy
I’d ever seen, alone with me in my room, and he was completely
whacked.

I abruptly cut off whatever he was saying. “You
seriously just said Werewolf, didn’t you?”

He stopped, midsentence, and his shoulders sagged a
little. “Yeah.”

“Do I need to explain how crazy that sounds?” I
decided my wording might be better than ‘you’re crazy’, which is
what I was thinking.

“What I don’t get is what you are,” he said,
basically ignoring my question.

“Hello? Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, just trying to figure this out,” he said,
distractedly.

“That makes two of us,” I muttered.

He sighed, like he was getting impatient. “This will
be easier for you when you remember. Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to help you remember.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to explain more, but
he didn’t. “What are you going to do?” I asked, trying to sound
more confident than I felt. I was beginning to wonder if I’d made a
mistake in not telling George about this.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t even move from my
chair. If you hear me get up or move at all, you can open your
eyes, scream, call the police – whatever you want.”

I eyed him suspiciously but I could feel my curiosity
winning out over my fear. I really, really wanted to know what had
happened to me last night. “Fine.” I closed my eyes and waited.

“Now relax and clear your mind.”

I tried not to think how much he sounded like my
mother’s yoga video. I took a deep breath and let it out as slow as
I could, imitating what I’d seen my mother do when she tried
meditating, which really seemed like a rip off of sleeping, to me.
Then I waited.

A moment later, I felt something. Not a physical
feeling, but rather a mental one; a weird tickling sensation in my
mind, like when you try really hard to recall an old memory. I
jumped and started to open my eyes.

“Keep your eyes closed. I’m almost done.”

I fidgeted with the comforter but kept my eyelids
clamped shut. Black and blue bursts of light danced behind my
closed lids, swirling into abstract pictures that reminded me of
ink blobs a psychiatrist might use on a crazy patient. A moment
later, the tingling receded, and then I jerked in surprise as
images flooded into my mind.

My eyes snapped open and I found Wes watching me. His
lips were pressed together in a tight line. All I could manage was
to stare back at him with a slack jaw, as the images played over
and over in head. What I saw there was almost too much. Impossible,
really.

“Did it work? Do you remember?” he asked, though it
was pretty clear that he knew I did.

I managed to answer, anyway. “Yes,” I breathed.

The memories flooded back and then replayed over and
over like a video simultaneously stuck on fast forward and repeat.
I could feel Wes’ eyes on me, taking in my reaction. I wanted to
say something, to ask him what he’d done and how he’d done it, but
the images in my mind were too overwhelming to push aside.

First, an image of me in the kitchen. The clock above
the stove read six-forty five. George was late. No surprise there.
Then, the replay of my attempt at one last date with him, at Moe’s,
my favorite pool hall. The arguing. Him talking on the phone to his
dad or agent through half a game of nine ball. The inevitable break
up. Then, me cutting through the alley to get to the bus stop.

I let the image fade away, already knowing what came
next. How was any of this possible? More than the memory of the
night was the knowledge. Somehow I’d known what to do, to fight
that … creature. But how? What kind of person was strong enough to
fight – and win against – a Werewolf? Not a normal human, that’s
for sure. And how could Werewolves exist and no one even know it?
And why, out of everyone who could’ve gotten pulled into something
like this, did it have to be me?

The questions went on and on and finally I had to
shut them out to think straight. I could only hope Wes could answer
some of them, but I honestly couldn’t even figure out where to
start. Instead I focused on what I did know. One, Werewolves were,
in fact, very real. And two, Wes had somehow manipulated my
memories. Twice.

~ 3 ~

I looked over at Wes, focusing first on the whole
memory-erasing thing, since that was actually easier than
discussing the reality of Werewolves. He’d been watching me
intently the whole time the images had played back inside my mind,
and I could tell he was waiting for me to say something. “I can’t
believe I killed something,” I said, when I finally found my
voice.

Wes’ eyes narrowed, and for the first time, he seemed
suspicious. “You’ve really never done this before?”

“Should I have?”

“Considering how easily you took down Liliana, I’d
say yes. But based on your reaction, I’m not so sure.”

“I’ve really never done this before,” I assured him.
I shook my head. “Seriously this can’t be real. I mean, I know it
is, but… wow. Werewolves? Okay so what about vampires? And goblins?
And fairies? Is all of that real, too?”

Wes rolled his eyes. “Nope. It’s just us wolves.”

“Us?” I repeated, my eyebrows lifting. Did he
mean…?

He shifted in the chair. I got the impression he
hadn’t meant to say that last part. “Yes. I’m a Werewolf.”

I pulled the comforter up tighter around my chin and
felt my eyes widen. I hadn’t meant to show fear but I couldn’t help
it. There was a Werewolf sitting three feet away. And if my first
impression was any indication, three feet was dangerously close.
Still, once I had a moment to think about it, I realized I wasn’t
actually afraid. At least, not like I had been last night. Crap,
I’d been a mess last night. A big, fat, convulsing mess –
especially near the end. A small amount of embarrassment washed
over me at what a complete moron I’d been. Logically, I knew Wes
was right. I’d been in medical shock. But still, I must have seemed
like a total wimp.

Besides that, Wes had been the one to help me get it
together after the attack. He’d given me a ride and helped me sneak
past my mom and, as far as the memory removal thing, I had to
admit, it had certainly been necessary. I couldn’t really be mad at
him for it. And most importantly, he had answers, which was
something I still wanted. So, rather than call attention to my
reaction, I changed the subject. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Mess with my head like that. How did you make me
forget everything?”

“I thought you remembered.”

“I do. I mean, I remember you telling me you were
going to do it and I remember agreeing. I closed my eyes, and one
minute the memories were there and the next minute they were gone.
I want to know how.”

He shrugged. “It’s a gift. Some of us are gifted with
special … skills. Altering memories is one of mine.”

“What, like a superpower or something?”

“Or something.”

“So, do all Werewolves have extra… gifts, or is it
just you?”

“Most Werewolves can manipulate memory on some level.
It helps us keep our secret.”

“But how do you do it?” I pressed.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned with your role in
all of this?” he snapped.

I blinked, trying to figure out what I’d said to make
him suddenly so irritated. “I guess I hadn’t gotten to that part
yet.”

He spread his arms wide. “Well, here we are.”

My eyes narrowed. I was tired of his attitude and
instead of feeling guilty for having somehow caused it, it was
making me angry. “No, here
I
am. Thanks for helping me last
night, but I’m fine. You don’t still have to be here.”

“Actually I do,” he argued.

“And why is that?”

“To determine what kind of threat you are.”

“Threat? To who?”

“Werewolves, of course.”

“But she came after me. I was defending myself.”

“Still, only a Hunter would’ve had that kind of
strength. Which means, it could happen again. It’s only a matter of
time before you figure yourself out and when that happens, I need
to know whose side you’ll be on.”

I was trying to follow what he was saying, but none
of it was making any sense. “There are sides?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t elaborate. I tried to keep the irritation
out of my voice. “Okay, well we won’t know which side I’m on until
I understand all of this, so how about you fill me in, from the
beginning.”

He frowned and I was sure he was going to refuse, so
it surprised me when he started talking. “Liliana was in town for
the night and said she wanted to meet up. We’d been… working on
something together. I was running late so I cut through the alley,
which is the only reason I found you. By then, Liliana was already
down, and you looked like you were going into shock. I couldn’t
have you running back inside and bringing humans into it, so I
decided to help you.”

I hadn’t missed the way he’d hesitated over why he’d
been meeting Liliana. Was it possible they’d been a couple? If so,
no wonder he seemed pissed. I didn’t ask about it, though.
Something told me it would end the conversation, and there was
still plenty more I wanted to know. “You called me a Hunter.”

He nodded. “You must be. It’s the only possible way
you’d have the strength to kill one of us.” He gave me a strange
look before continuing. “The thing is, I don’t even get a feeling
from you, or - I do but it’s not like a normal Hunter would feel.
It’s… I don’t know. Which definitely makes no sense. Added to that,
you obviously have zero training and no weapons so you can
understand why I’m more than a little curious about you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this last night?”

He gave me a pointed look. “You were pretty shaken
up. I don’t think it would’ve gone over well.”

“I’m fine now,” I said, lifting my chin a little.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Okay, whatever, I lost it. Anyone would have, in my
situation. But I’m dealing with it now and I’m not going to freak
out. That won’t happen again.”

“Yes, it will.” He cut me off before I could argue.
“Not you freaking out – at least I hope not – but the attack,
killing a Werewolf. That part will happen again. If one found you,
so can others, and even though I can’t sense ‘Hunter’ on you, I can
only assume Liliana did. Which means they will too, and they’ll
attack as soon as they feel it.”

“Whatever, you’re just trying to scare me.”

He didn’t respond but the look he sent me left no
question that he was serious.

Knowing he was right did weird things to my gut. It
was scary, once you got over the hump and believed it all. Who
wanted to have to look over their shoulder for angry Werewolves
their whole lives? But, if this was all real – and I was slowly
starting to recognize that it was – then I needed to be prepared. I
needed to face it. The truth was always better than a lie, no
matter how scary it might be. “Alright, then, so what do I do?” I
asked.

“First off, we need to figure out if you really are a
Hunter.”

“How do we do that?”

“The best way is to get you around some others who
can maybe sense you better. Are you sure you’ve recovered from the
shock, though?”

An image popped into my head, of seeing my reflection
in the bathroom mirror – after. The look on my face had been shock
and underneath it, pure terror. “I think I must’ve been afraid of
myself a little,” I admitted. “But yes, I’m fine now. Promise.”

He nodded and his expression was almost
understanding. He studied me a minute longer. “C’mon,” he finally
said, rising from my desk chair. “Get dressed.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m going to take you to see someone. Try to figure
this thing out.” He put the chair back underneath the desk and took
up his original position, leaning against the doorframe.

I didn’t move from the bed. “Who?”

“Friends. Like I said, maybe they can get a read on
you.”

I had no idea what he meant by ‘a read on’ me, but I
was interested in answers. Still, I didn’t know where he might take
me, or to whom. It could be dangerous, some kind of trap.

“I’m not going to hurt you and neither will anyone
else,” Wes added quietly, seeing my hesitation.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I had no idea why I was making him promise. I still
didn’t know if I could fully trust him, but right now he was my
only shot at finding the truth. And scary as it was, I needed to
know the truth. Some things were just too big to brush under the
rug. This was definitely one of them.

I flung the covers aside and hopped up, making my way
towards the bathroom. I felt Wes’ eyes on me, and my cheeks heated
up in automatic response. His gaze lingered on my abdomen, and only
then did I remember my shirt was short enough to reveal the ends of
the scratches along my ribs. Then, my cheeks flushed even more as I
realized he hadn’t been checking me out in the way I’d assumed. I
turned away, hoping he hadn’t noticed my embarrassment, and booked
it to the bathroom. On the way, I reached out and scooped up a pair
of jeans and a fresh shirt from the laundry basket.