Now it was his turn to blush, the bravado seeping out of his shoulders as the color rose up his face to the tips of his ears, making his eyes appear brighter than ever. He valiantly maintained eye contact for several heartbeats before looking away, shifting his attention to adding red pepper to his pizza. Triumph swelled in my chest, curving my lips in a wide smile.
“Eat your pizza,” he said, still staring down at his slice.
“You started it,” I said before turning my attention back to my food.
Still grinning, I tore a large bite off of my slice, victory making it taste all the better.
Companionable silence stretched out between us, and I soon found my thoughts turning inwards. In addition to the expected fear and anger that had risen with the reappearance of Samson, I was experiencing another, unexpected emotion: uselessness.
From the moment Holbrook and Johnson had shown up on my doorstep with news of Samson’s escape, I had been shuffled from one location to the next, all the while not knowing when the hammer would fall. It had been years since I’d felt that I had so little control over my own life, as if I was a just passenger along for the ride. But what could I do? As fast and strong as the wolf made me, it didn’t account for an utter lack of fighting skills.
Jackie Chan, I’m not.
I was distantly aware of the sound of Loki purring relentlessly as he rubbed back and forth along the side of the bed, hoping that I would take pity on him. Absently, I picked a couple nuggets of sausage off my pizza and tossed them on the floor.
I wanted to do something to help catch Samson, but other than dangling myself out a window as bait, I didn’t appear to be of much use.
Hell, we don’t even know for sure if the attacks are Samson. Unless...
“I want to go to the morgue,” I announced, hiding my fear by snatching up another piece of pizza, shoveling congealed cheese and dough into my mouth. Across from me Holbrook tried not to choke on his soda.
“What?” he croaked. “Why?”
“I’m tired of feeling useless. I want to do something to help.”
“I don’t see how punishing yourself can possibly help.”
“I can confirm if Samson is the one behind the attacks,” I said, tapping the side of my nose in reference to my heightened senses. “And if we’re lucky, maybe I’ll be able to pick up something else.”
“I really don’t think—”
“I’m having visions,” I blurted before I could chicken out. “I mean, I think they’re visions. That, or I’ve finally snapped and need to be committed.”
Staring at me intently, Holbrook asked, “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“I’ve been having these dreams for years, ever since Samson attacked me. Well, not like the ones I’m having now exactly, but weird, you know?” I began to explain, setting my half eaten slice of pizza aside, the smell of it making me queasy.
Drawing my legs up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around my knees, wishing that Holbrook would wrap me up in the comfort of his embrace.
“I used to dream that I was somewhere in the dark, trapped, and I couldn’t get out. I couldn’t see the sky or feel the wind on my skin, and it hurt so much to be there, locked away and forgotten. They didn’t happen all the time, and they’re weren’t always very clear. It’s just that lately they’ve been different.”
“Different how?”
“I’m not trapped anymore.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked, setting aside his own slice of pizza, giving me his full attention.
“No, it’s bad…so bad,” I whispered, afraid to close my eyes and see the bloody visions dancing across the inside of my eyelids, but unable to look him in the eye either.
“Riley, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on,” he said, leaning across the distance between us to squeeze my clasped hands.
“I can see their fear, can smell it and taste it, and that excites me. They’re so weak and slow, it’s so easy to catch them, but I enjoy the chase so I let them think they have a chance of getting away. It makes the meat so much sweeter,” I said, choking on the words, horrified by the hunger in my voice. “It’s disgusting, but this other part of me, this dark part of me…it’s thrilled by the hunt and their fear.”
“Isn’t that how it is to be a were?”
“A little,” I admitted. “But this is different somehow. It doesn’t feel the same. It doesn’t feel like my wolf. This feels so much more dangerous.”
“Maybe it’s the stress of knowing Samson is out there,” he tried to reason, the crease between his brows hinting at his doubt.
“I had the first dream before you and Johnson showed up at my house.”
An incredulous look flowed across his face as he rose from the bed and started to pace back and forth in front of the window.
“There’s more...” I murmured, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
Stopping mid-step, Holbrook turned to face me. “What?”
“The pictures I saw—the ones from the file on your desk—I think I’ve seen them before.”
“That’s impossible.”
“And yet here we are,” I offered with a sigh.