Page 39 of Blood and Chocolate


Font Size:  

"What's wrong with you, boy?" she cried. "Do you like watching people throw up?"

His eyes widened.

She felt like a jerk. She changed her tone. "Please. I'll be embarrassed if you stay."

"But - "

A spasm ripped through her and the bones in her knees crunched. "Go! Please go!" she yelled, and scrambled for the window like a drunk, her legs refusing to obey. "I'm going to be sick."

She dove onto her bed, rolled to the floor, and spidered out of the room on knuckles and toes. She reached the bathroom at the end of the hall and slammed the door behind her. She shot the bolt home.

Outside the window the swollen moon leered at her over the tops of the trees.

She shuddered with pain, and tears outlined her downy face. She had never known a time when she hadn't wanted the change, hadn't enjoyed the change, but now she was nauseated from holding it back. He couldn't see her like this. She couldn't betray her people.

There was a gentle tapping on the bathroom door. "Are you all right? "

She tried to say Yea, I am, but her jaw was wrong for speaking and the words came out a muffled growl. Why was he making this beautiful gift seem dirty?

"Well, if you're sure you'll be okay ..."

"Hhhhhhmmmmmmmmm!" she moaned, hoping it sounded like an affirmative. Her arms lengthened, her muscles bulged, and she tore at her clothes as her pelt rippled over her flesh. She had never had to hide away before. What a crime to trap her beautiful body. It was all his fault.

"Look, like, give me a call tomorrow and let me know how you are. Hope you feel better."

When she was sure he had gone, Vivian quietly pulled back the bolt with short, furred fingers. She reached for the doorknob.

But what if I'm like Axel? she thought. What if I smell him as prey when I'm in fur?

She clenched her hand, withdrew her shaking fist, and curled into a tight, trembling ball on the bathroom floor. I won't go out, she promised. I won't go out. If she did, she might follow him and stalk him to his lair.

She shuddered into her final shape, raised her muzzle, and howled frustration at the porcelain tile. Her voice echoed about her like a curse.

Vivian blinked her eyes in the early-morning sun. The sound of a truck door slamming had awakened her. Esmé and Rudy were back. She sneezed, sending dust mice scurrying, and crawled, pink and naked, out from under the bed, where she'd spent most of the night. She was drained and aching from clenching her body tight against its needs.

I'll have to tell him I can't see him anymore, she thought. I can't hide from him every full moon. She tried to feel self-righteous and committed, but all she felt was a sinking feeling in her gut. He had climbed up to her window, brought her wine, thought of her when he could have been out partying. She remembered the tickle of his hair on her cheek, his breath on her neck, and shivered deliciously.

Vivian reached for her robe, which lay in a silken gray-and-blue shimmer across her desk chair, and dragged a brush through her tangled tawny hair. No, she told herself firmly. I'll leave the poor boy alone. How long before the Five bothered him because of her? How long before the pack stepped in? They wouldn't be leaderless forever. Soon there would be someone to answer to. That last thought annoyed her. Maybe she didn't want to answer to someone.

"Perhaps Astrid's right," Esmé said as Vivian walked into the kitchen.

"What do you mean?" asked Rudy from the counter, where he was pouring the coffee.

"Why aren't females allowed to compete in the Ordeal?" Esmé said. She sat at the kitchen table. There was a leaf in her hair, and Vivian was jealous of Esmé's night in the open.

"Gimme a break!" exclaimed Rudy. "Isn't it obvious? It's purely physical. Females are in a different weight category. Their muscles don't develop to the same degree. Why risk injury or death with no chance to win?"

Vivian took the cup of coffee meant for her mother from Rudy's hands and leaned back against the counter to drink it. Rudy rolled his eyes, but poured another cup.

"But some females are smarter than some males, craftier fighters," Esmé argued.

Rudy set Esmé's coffee in front of her and sat down himself. "Stop being awkward, Esmé. It's only a way of matching fairly and protecting our own. You females get your chance. It's only the top female who mates with the victor. She has to be the strongest and the smartest to ensure our survival."

"Yeah, great, some chance. It's a male's world, isn't it? A female may be queen bitch but she doesn't get to choose her king."

"You loved Ivan, didn't you, Sis?" Rudy asked. "You didn't beat the crap out of every new girl who came along with a challenge just for the status."

Vivian watched her mother's face closely.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com