Page 7 of Eclipsed Legacy

His smile reaches his eyes as he says, “Not from you.”

I open my mouth to argue, but then close it. He’s right. “I should probably call a cab,” I say.

“I can give ya’ both a lift,” Ricky says. My eyes widen. “Don’t look so surprised,” Ricky says. “We may butt heads, but you’re crazy if ya’ think I’ll let you get behind the wheel.”

I can’t help but smile. Perhaps, it’s the alcohol, but I feel a pleasant warmth flow through my body. “I’m genuinely touched, Wicky. That’s so nice of you!” I say.

Ricky grins and gives a slight chuckle before turning to Ray. “Yeah, she’s definitely wasted.”

Carlie and Ray smile indulgently at me. I guess I should’ve slowed down a bit more.

“Excuse me?” a tall, bald man in a sleeveless tee says as he approaches. He’s older than me but still young, maybe late twenties or early thirties.

“Yes?” I say.

He places his beer on the bar and slips between me and Ray, so I am facing him. “Hi, darlin’,” he says, grabbing my hand before kissing it gently. “Do you always act so wantonly weak or are you desperate for someone like me to come along and challenge you?” Before I can answer, he turns to Ricky. “Well?”

Ricky’s clearly caught off-guard. “What?”

“Your pretty little wolf here—” The color drains from Ricky’s face at the word “wolf,” and the bald man gives an annoyed sigh but speaks in a low conversational tone. “Even if I hadn’t heard you all practically shouting our existence to the town, I could smell you all from down the road. But do you always let your females demean you? You’re the only male here who seemed to have any balls, and even you submit quickly like a bitch in he—” Ricky lunges forward, decking the asshole who hardly moves. I’m unprepared for the sound that comes from him. Laughter? “You are weak. No wonder two of our juniors so easily dominated your little fag wolf at the school—”

I feel a weight in the pit of my stomach. Wolf at…the school? Michael? Two of them? Wait…fag?

The bald man laughs, “They said they could smell the pheromones as if he were begging to be taken right there in the halls.” His voice goes dark as he says, “But we’re not done with him, and we sure as hell—”

For the first time in over a decade, the fire returns, raging and hungering for blood like never before. The anger sobers my mind. I feel myself shaking my head, but whether in denial or outrage, I am unsure. Before I realize what I’m doing, I leap up, wrapping my legs around him from behind and locking my arms around his neck in a chokehold. This close to the full moon, the wolf inside is already eager to be set free, to run, to hunt, and right now, she is eager for blood. It takes everything in me to hold her at bay, but the fire inside me still hungers for blood.

The bald guy tries to pry my arms off of him. As he starts to flail, I whisper in his ear, “Do we seem weak now, you pathetic motherfucker? Do you feel strong? Do you have a death wish?” I growl, low and threatening. He grunts, and just as I think I’ve got him, he throws himself back, slamming me into the bar. Ricky and Ray know better than to interfere, but I feel that last shot crawling back up my throat. My grip begins to loosen, and I struggle to hold on, not just to maintain control over this asshole, but for physical support.

He spins around, making me dizzier. He fumbles, trying to grapple me. I jab my knee hard into his gut, but that doesn’t help. He gets a hold of me and moves to flip me over his head and onto the floor. Mid-air, I feel myself losing control. I try to contain it, but my body takes over, relinquishing the contents of my stomach all over his head. Unprepared for that kind of assault, he releases his grip early and begins to gag, spewing obscenities. My back crashes onto the hard, concrete floor. I feel better, relaxed even. But my eyes are heavy, and my head kind of hurts. If I could just shut my eyes for a few minutes, I’d probably feel even better than before…

“Tala! Come on!” Ricky says, forcing me to stay conscious and pulling me up from under my arms. The bald guy is cussing while Chris lectures Ray, who keeps apologizing. “Chris won’t call the cops, but we have to leave now.”

“Okay,” I say. “Okay, I’m coming.” I go to stand, and thankfully, Ricky still has a hold of me, otherwise my ass would be right back down on the floor. He kind of hunches down and drapes my left arm over his right shoulder, supporting me, as we make our way to his truck. Ray somehow appears right behind us.

The lights of the bar don’t carry far, and fifty feet from the building, it’s nearly pitch black. I hear the crunch of the gravel beneath my feet, and then the poor treading on my old shoes fails me as I slip backwards. Ray and Ricky catch me. Jeez. I am lucky to have the two of them.

They help me into Ricky’s truck, which doesn’t have much room, but I fit in the middle. I lean my head back against the window to rest before Ray nudges me. “Tala.”

“Hmm?” I say, half startled, but feeling myself already drifting off. He smiles, as if that wasn’t the first time that he said my name.

“Where are your keys?”

“In my pocket, duh,” I say, blinking and struggling to keep my eyes open. I close them again, needing to rest. My eyes flash open when I feel a hand reach into my pocket, but it is just Ray getting my keys. “You ‘kay to drive?” I ask, closing my eyes again.

“I stopped drinking a while—” Rays voice begins to fade out. Before I know it, Ricky is driving down some dirt backroad. I hear the crickets, see the dust in the headlights, as well as the lights of my car behind us. I’m not sure how much time passes before we pull into my apartment complex. Ray makes sure I get in and helps me to my bed. He says something about water on my nightstand, and I nod, allowing myself to collapse face-first into the embrace of my bedding, gripping it like it’s some sort of life-giving force. I haven’t been this drunk in a while. Sure, I haven’t been of legal drinking age for long, but everyone starts early in this town. Luckily for that bald guy, my temper isn’t quite what it was when I was younger, otherwise, I likely would’ve torn him to shreds. Already, my head is throbbing, but I pray to whoever’ll listen that tomorrow won’t be too unbearable before I fully give in to sleep.

Chapter 3

The consistent pounding in my head wakes me the next morning. I slowly open my eyes, which are crusted shut. It’s still dark, but thanks to the light from my router, I can make out my surroundings. Lifting my head, I feel my stomach turn, reminding me all too clearly of the previous night’s events. “Shit,” I say aloud with a groan, laying my head back down. In front of me, I see a glass of water. Without fully sitting up, I grab it. Bringing the glass to my dry, cracked lips, I slowly sip the stale water from the previous night. “Thank you, Ray,” I say, as if he could magically hear me. I roll over and pull the blankets over my shoulder. What the hell? I really let last night get ahead of me. If not for my throbbing head, which is likely a result of a combination between my hangover and having been slammed onto the concrete, I’d likely get my ass up to investigate this new pack or…talk to Michael.

I sigh. Michael. I need to figure out what exactly happened. If they came after him, if they could smell him, he needs to know it could happen again. Hell, he needs to know that he’s likely to change soon, which begs the question: why couldn’t I smell him? Under normal circumstances, I’d go and ask Grandma for advice.

Last night really was a mess.

With a groan, I check my phone. 4:37. Great. I shoot Michael a text.

Hey! Text me when you get a chance. I’d really like to talk to you. K?