Dueling Moons: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 2) (17 page)

I felt my brows pull together. “Excuse me?”

“When he said
good
-
night
? You seemed to understand what he said.”

I thought for a second. “He called me ‘his beauty.’ Why?”

He shook his head, turning his back on me. “No reason. How did you know what he was sayin’, anyhow?”

“My mother was multilingual. She could speak German, French, and Spanish. She tried to get my sister and me to learn, but we never got more than a few words out of it. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, and then faced me. “You know what…no, I’m not all right. Did you have to go all
goo
-
goo
eyed on me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I could see the way ya looked at ‘em,” he hissed. “You’re were flirtin’ so hard it was embarrassin’.”

“Were you and I at the same lesson? I was not flirting with…” my voice trailed away when I realized what he was talking about. “Is this because I complimented him?”

“Complimented,” he scoffed. “You basically had a screw me sign on your forehead, and then to scold me like that…” he shook his head.

“First of all, you were being an overprotective jerk,” I said, feeling anger coming to the surface again. “And second, he’s Tina’s fiancée. I was not flirting with him!”

“Really? Because the way you looked at him, ya might as well have asked him to take you right there in the parkin’ lot. I mean, is it because you’re gonna die that you’re actin’ like a slut or…” his voice trailed away when he realized what he had said. “Pat,
I
—”

When the rage came over me, I could feel my face contort with it, and fists formed at my sides. “You
self
-
centered
,
self
-
serving
, werewolf asshole! Are you the one going to die on Saturday? I don’t think so! Are you the one who has a
half
-
werewolf
growing inside you? I don’t think so!”

“Bébé, I’
m
—”

“You’re what?” I screamed at him. “Sorry? Fuck you and your ‘sorry.’” I turned on my heels, grabbing my purse and coat off my computer chair.

“Patricia,” he said, pleadingly. “Where are you goin’?”

“Away from you!”

“Pat…”

“Don’t follow me, dog!” I walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind me. When I was outside, I remembered that I didn’t have a car.

“Shit,” I hissed to myself, putting my coat on and placing my bag over my shoulder.

I sat on the front stoop trying to figure out what to do and where to go, when I heard someone come up beside me. “What do want, Samuel?”

“How did you know it was me?”

I glared up at him. “I could smell oranges and musk from a mile away.” I sighed, looking down at my feet. “I’ll ask you again…what do you want?”

“Nothing,” he answered, sitting next to me. “Morris told me that you needed some kind of protection, so I volunteered.”

“Morris?” I asked, trying to figure out who he meant.

“Herbert.”

“That’s just fucking great. You’re exactly what I need right now.” The sardonic tone I took was so evident that it was sharp to my tongue and ears.

“I did not have to do this,” he snapped at me. “I could have left you here to die.”

“Why don’t you then?” I growled.

“Because I heard…” his voice trailed away.

I stared at him as he turned his face away from me, so I was just looking at that perfect profile of his. “What did you hear?”

“That you were with child,” he said, still not looking at me.

“Why does that matter? It’s not yours.”

He glared at me, but there was something else besides rage in those cold, blue eyes. Sorrow. It was sorrow. “It matters.”

I nodded, my anger cooling. “All right, Samuel. It matters.”

We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes, and then it started to snow. It wasn’t the big clunky flakes that I was used to back home, but small and icy ones. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the cold finally hit my body, penetrating me down to the bone.

When I shivered, Samuel asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“You should go inside.”

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Patricia?”

“Yes?”

“I know that you will not believe me when I tell you this,” he said, both of us not even daring to look at one another, “but I do still love you. And I will do anything to protect you from this monster.”

I looked up at the sky, letting the ice hit my face. “Thank you,” I said, trying to be genuine about it, “for helping out.”

“You are welcome.”

“This doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten what you’ve done to me.”

“I did not think it would,” he paused for a second. “Patricia?”

“Yes?”

“Please, do not die.” He told me, and I could actually hear the anguish in his voice.

“I don’t intend to.”

After that, we just sat there in silence. We didn’t look at each other or even speak again. We just sat there being what we were: former lovers turned into bitter enemies.

chapter

SEVENTEEN

Stage Three: Bargaining

“Mornin’, bébé,” Mike said as he brought me juice and a bagel. I had come in after he had fallen asleep, and I decided not to sleep in the same room with him, so I camped out on the couch.

“Don’t talk to me,” I hissed, disregarding his peace offering.

“Pat, I know you’re
mad
—”

“Mad?” I interrupted him, getting up from the couch. “I’m not mad. Only dogs get mad! I’m angry. There’s a difference.” I walked away from him, going into the bedroom so I could get some clothes. Then I went into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

There was a light knock. “Patricia, talk to me, please.”

I brushed my teeth, pulling my matted hair up into a ponytail, and then I slammed my way through the door.

“Pat?” Mike asked, as I grabbed my purse off my desk. “Where are you goin’?”

“Church.”

“Why?”

“To pray,” I answered as I walked.

I had checked the bus schedules before falling asleep, so I knew when and where to meet it in order to go to the nearest Catholic Church. Normally, I don’t go to
church
—
Sunday
or
not
—
but
I needed to talk with the man upstairs. He had some explaining to do.

When I arrived, no one was inside. The church was small and yet I could image people packing the place to the rafters. It had, of course, the stained glass windows with the Stations of the Cross on them. The vivid images of Jesus during his final days used to scare me as a child, and frankly, they still do to this day. Jessica used to tell me that if I sinned, the Vatican would come out and crucify me. Is it any wonder I turned out as normal as I am?

Anyway, I walked over to the prayer candles, got on my knees, and lit one. Then I just did the sign of the cross and prayed.

First, I asked why, and then I started to pray for Him to save me. I promised to go to mass more often, I promised to be a better person, and I even promised that I would stop having sex with Mike. But I knew that whatever destiny had in store for me there was no stopping it. Still, I figured there was no harm in trying.

As I walked out of that place of worship, I felt worse than I had when I woke up. In fact, I was cold, hungry, and defeated. But despite all that, I found myself walking to no place in particular. Suddenly, I looked around and I was in the woods near the hole that my dream had so often featured. It was as if something had pulled me there, as if my internal compass wanted me to be in that place at that time.

Sitting on the ground, I placed my feet over the edge, contemplating if I should jump in. After all, it would make everyone’s life easier if I just
disappeared
—
vanished
—
into
thin air. Nobody would find me until it was too late. That way I wouldn’t have to kill Stag, and I wouldn’t have to deal with Samuel and his trying to kill me anymore, or Mike’s sudden jealousy. I could just slip quietly into the hole, curl up into a ball, and die.

That would have worked, if I were that type of person. A person who could just give up and not let it bother them. However, I wasn’t a quitter. I was a
keep
-
going
-
until
-
you
-
drop
kind
-
of
gal. In my opinion, it was one of my better qualities. That and my sarcasm.

I sat on the edge of that abyss just staring into the darkness until I could no longer see. When I finally looked up it was really dark out, but as I blinked, my eyes automatically adjusted. However, I didn’t give it any thought as I just sat, waiting for nothing in particular. Then I heard someone walk up beside me.

“There you are,” Herb’s voice bounced off the trees and into the darkness. “We have been looking for you everywhere.”

“Have you?” I asked, not looking up at him. I saw him sit down next to me out of my peripheral vision, and I noticed that he had something in his hands. “What’s that?” I pointed to what I now saw to be a Styrofoam container.

“Food,” he said, handing it to me. “Angel made you this, because Mike thought that you would be starving.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking the container from him. When I opened it, I saw that it contained a biscuit, fried chicken, and some mashed potatoes. Angel even packed a plastic fork and knife. Immediately I went for the biscuit, and as soon as bit into it, I became ravenous. I literally gobbled every last bit of the meal down in a matter of minutes, and afterward I was tempted to even eat the chicken bones. But I knew that was the baby talking, so I just placed the container down on the ground.

Herb was staring at me, mouth agape as I finished my first and only meal of the day. “What?” I asked, hearing the defensiveness come out in my voice. I didn’t like it when people stared at me. It was unnerving.

He shook his head. “Nothing. It is just…I have never seen a woman eat like that before.”

“I don’t think that I’ve ever eaten like that before in my life. I guess I was hungry.”

He nodded, getting up off the ground with ease. Then he held out his hand, and I took it so he could help me up.

As soon as I was on my feet, every part of my body began to ache, and to top it all off, I got extremely dizzy. Luckily, Herb caught me before I hit the ground.

“Patricia, are you all right?” he asked as he held me up.

I nodded as the woods spun. “Just dizzy.” Herb held me closer to him, almost hugging me. When I could finally see straight, I pushed away from him, looking into his eyes, and something inside him burned through me.

“Feeling better?” he asked, and I nodded. “Good, I am glad. Do you wish for me to take you home?”

“No. I don’t feel like going home right now.”

“Why not?”

“Mike pissed me off.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “How? You two seem so in love.”

“He called me a slut. I don’t think I can let that go so soon, even if I am in love with him.”

“Why did he call you that? It seems so unlike Michael.”

I sighed. “I don’t want to get into it.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

“Do you?” I growled, suddenly very angry. “Do you really?”

Herb was stunned by my outburst. He even backed away a little. “Patricia,” he said with concern, “what happened to your eyes?”

“What?” I asked, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning it around so I could look into the reflective surface. My eyes had adjusted to the dark so well that I could see that they had gone from their normal hazel to almost bright red. I couldn’t help but be in shock.

“Holy crap,” I said, as I watched my eyes transform back to normal. It was like watching a beast coming out from within, and then retreating as soon as it surfaced. “That cannot be normal!”

“Perhaps Michael will know why that happened,” Herb suggested, and I just nodded. He put his phone back in his pocket, looking at me tentatively.

“Please stop looking at me like that, Herb. It’s disconcerting.”

He blinked, and then forced a smile. “I do apologize for that. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.” We stood there in silence for a minute, until he said, “Perhaps we should go back now.”

I sighed. “I guess we should.” But before I took two steps in the direction of the road, Herbert caught my arm.

“You are loved, Patricia,” he said, and I wondered why. “I only say this because you seem so melancholy. Everything will be all right in the end, you will see.”

“No, Herb. It won’t be all right. Thanks for trying, though.”

That’s when he did something I did not expect. He pulled me to him, giving me a hug. His grip suddenly tightened and that warning bell I have went off. I tried to push myself away from him, but even with my newfound strength, I couldn’t. The only thing I managed to do was move myself back enough in order to see his fangs.

“Let go of me,” I hissed, but he just held me tighter.

“You smell so good,” he whispered, leaning me back to expose my neck. I closed my eyes waiting for the blow to come, but it didn’t. In fact, I was pushed back so forcefully that I landed on my butt.

“Morris,” Samuel hissed, holding Herb in a headlock. “That is enough!”

He got out of Samuel’s grasp easily, turning on him. Then he said something in German that I didn’t understand, and Samuel responded. Within seconds Herb was gone, and I was left alone with my
ex
-
husband
. Again.

He tried to help me up, but I just glared at him until he backed away. “Were you following me?” I asked, as I got to my feet.

“No,” he said. “I was following Morris.”

“Why?”

“I thought that he might be a threat to you,” he explained. “Knowing him, he has not eaten in a week.”

“He was hungry,” I said to myself. “That’s just great.”

“Are you all right?”

“Why do you care?” I screamed at him. “I’m sure if he would have drained me dry, you wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.”

“Why do you think that?” he asked, walking closer to me.

I held up my hands. “That’s close enough, Samuel.”

He stopped. “You did not answer my question.”

“I thought the answer was
self
-
explanatory
. After all, that was you in that dungeon basement of yours, wasn’t it? Or was that another one of your personalities?”

“No,” he said, looking down at the ground. “That was me. But I want to help you in any way that I can. I thought I made that clear last night.”

“Why now?” I asked what I didn’t get a chance to yesterday night.

“As I said before, I do not wish for you to die.”

I laughed without humor. “Really? I thought that would have made you a happy vampire?”

“No,” he was indignant. “I have never wanted for you to die. I only wanted for you to be one of us.” I shook my head. “It is true,” he insisted.

I rolled my eyes. “Sure it is.”

“Please, Patricia,” he said, ignoring my sarcasm. “Let me help you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

He shrugged, giving me that smile that looked as though it hurt. “You did yesterday,” he pointed out, “but you really should not; my intentions are completely dishonorable.”

“Then why do you want to help at all? And why did you do it last night?”

“Because,” he sighed, “I have this strange sense of obligation toward you.”

I walked closer to him, seeing the sincerity in those
icy
-
blue
eyes. “And yet you still tried to harm me.”

“I know.”

“More than once.”

He nodded. “Yes. A regrettable turn of events, I will admit.”

I moved so close to him that I had to strain my neck so I could look up into his face. “Regrettable,” I repeated, almost to myself. “Well, at least now I can do this.” He cocked his head for a second, as I smiled at him. The next thing I did, I knew he didn’t see coming: I kneed him in the gonads. Then, when he was bent over in silent pain, I clocked him in the face. He crumpled to the ground almost immediately, blood pouring from his mouth.

I stood over him, keeping that dark smile on my face. “We’re not even close to being even, but it’s a start.” I held out my hand to him, and he just glared at it. “Truce?”

He nodded, wiping the blood on the back of his
long
-
sleeved
black shirt. “Truce.”

Samuel took my hand, and I actually had enough strength to pull him up. As soon as he was standing again, I punched him in the stomach for good measure. “I thought you said we had a truce?” he choked out.

I shrugged. “It just didn’t feel right the first time. But now…now it does. Truce.” After saying it again, I slapped him across the face. It was really more of a tap, but it still made him wince, which made my smile widen.

We finally shook hands on it and started to walk out of the woods together. There was something nagging me in the back of my mind, and I just had to ask. “Samuel?”

“Yes,” he said as we immerged from the dark woods onto the almost
pitch
-
black
road.

“Did you change Elliot Sagmore?”

He cocked and eyebrow at me. “Who?”

“The monster I have to kill,” I clarified, as we walked side by side.

He shook his head. “I have never heard of him.”

“Is that a no?” I asked, making sure that he wasn’t lying to me.

“That is a no,” he answered, and by the way he looked at me, I could tell he was genuinely confused and meant every word that he said.

“I believe you. This time.”

He chuckled. “That is good.”

I looked at him carefully, and I noticed that he seemed downright jovial. “Why are you so happy? You’re usually brooding and angry at the world. What happened to change all that?”

“You,” he said with that hurt smile of his. His face held no traces of my abuse, and when he smirked the way he did, the shadows did evil things to his features. “And our temporary truce, of course.”

I shook my head. “Nice save.”

He sighed. “This is taking too long.” Before I could ask what he meant, he picked me up, running me to my apartment building.

When he set me down everything started to go
topsy
-
turvy
, and the nausea came back. “Why did you have to do that? I think I’m going to be sick.” I leaned against the rail, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath.

“I do apologize, Patricia,” he said from behind me. “I did not think that you would get so ill.”

The world stopped being wonky and I turned on him. “Don’t ever do that again,” I hissed. “Ever.”

“I promise.”

“Your promises mean nothing to me. You know that, right?”

He nodded. “I am well aware, but I do mean it. I will not do that again.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Okay,” I let the word out slowly. “Good night, Samuel.”

“Good night, Patricia,” he said, bowing his head. “Pleasant dreams.”

I took out my keys, walking inside, and when I was finally in the apartment, Mike was nowhere to be found. “Great,” I huffed, throwing my bag on the desk. I took my cell out of my purse, and tried to get him. But his phone just went to voicemail.