It was clearly expecting me to try to run, probably figuring I’d be easy prey with the cane. It looked momentarily confused, however, when I started limping straight for it. That confusion, of course, was increased exponentially when I finally took the last step needed to get it in my radius.
I’ve changed werewolves before, and they each react a little differently. Some, like Will, roll with the change. Some freeze, some even start shaking from the sudden absence of magic. The wolf in front of me, however, simply dropped, like a rock in a pond. I hurried closer, wanting to keep him in range, and stopped when I was four feet away, keeping the flashlight beam on the werewolf.
It was a him; that was obvious. He was naked, curled in the fetal position, shock on his face. I limped a couple of steps sideways so I could see his face—it was Henry Remus.
But if Remus was here . . . I opened my mouth to yell at Jesse, but something must have clicked in Remus’s brain, because suddenly he had scrambled to his feet and was diving for me with mad fury on his face. He moved like humans never do: not trying to catch himself or keep his balance, not adjusting his movement for the moment we inevitably collided. He simply hurled himself at me, clumsy and desperate.
Under normal circumstances I could have dodged him easily, but even when I ignored the pain in my knee, I couldn’t move fast enough. I stumbled backward and tripped on the leg of a nearby picnic table, starting my own fall even as Henry Remus barreled into me.
We hit the ground hard, and the back of my head rammed the packed dirt like I was trying to dig a frickin’ hole with it. It wasn’t exactly the same spot where I’d struck my head two weeks earlier, but it was damn close, and nausea and dizziness were suddenly tugging at my attention like impatient toddlers. My cane slid away in the dirt.
On top of me, Henry Remus had recovered and leaned upright, his foul breath on my face. “You again,” he hissed from inches away. “What are you?” My flashlight had skittered away when we collided, but it pointed more or less toward my feet.
I really wanted to come out with something like “your worst nightmare,” but I was busy remembering where my limbs were. Remus pushed himself off the ground and straddled me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking them. “What . . . are . . . you?” he whispered.
Instead of answering, I opened my mouth and screamed. It wasn’t tactical or anything. It was just that I was so scrambled by vertigo that it was the only sound I felt capable of producing. I drew breath to scream again, and Henry Remus leaned down on me, his grimy hand smothering my mouth, his elbows touching the ground as he rested his naked weight on my upper body. I struggled then, but I might as well have been pushing against a downpour of rain. Finally I wrenched my mouth open just enough to bite down on the skin of his hand as hard as I could. It tasted horrible, but it worked.
“Ow!” Remus cried, sitting up without getting off me, cradling his hand to his chest. He gave me a wounded look. “Why did you do that?”
“Seriously?” I panted, sucking in air. I wiped at my mouth with the back of my sleeve. Ick.
There were footsteps behind me, and suddenly I heard the glorious sound of Jesse’s gun as he took the safety off. “Police,” Jesse said, his voice scary-calm. He began circling around us, trying to position himself to see my face. “Get off of her.”
“What?” Remus said, looking suddenly baffled. He didn’t move. “Why are you guys doing this to me?”
Jesse was close enough to see me now, and even in the darkness he and I exchanged a confused look. “Are you . . . whining at us?” Jesse said in disbelief.
Remus’s face twitched distractedly. “I’m trying to do something great here,” he protested. “Why can’t you people see that?” He turned his head to glare down at me. “And you . . . why are you taking him away from me?”
“Taking who?” I asked, confused.
“Brother Wolf,” Remus said reverentially. “He speaks to me. He wants me to kill, to eat, to fuck, to create.” He leaned forward, giving me a look at his flashing eyes, filled with madness. I could feel his erection on my stomach, and I almost threw up on him. “Don’t you see how that’s bigger than you?” he whispered.
“Jesse?” I said nervously. I really, really wanted the crazy naked person to get off me now.
“Enough,” Jesse barked at Remus. “Get off her. Slowly.”
“You disappointment me,” Remus whispered to me, like we were co-conspirators. He leaned forward to put his hands on the ground by my head, making like he was going to push off the ground and stand up. But then in a quick, scary motion, he tangled his fingers in my hair and rolled my body sideways as he swung a leg over me, forcing me in between himself and Jesse’s gun. I cried out with pain as my hair and knee were wrenched. We were kneeling, and he very slowly forced me to my feet. It took every ounce of self-control I had left to keep from screaming at the pain.
Remus held me between him and Jesse, who looked anguished and uncertain. “Drop the gun and kick it away!” Remus sang gaily, delighted with the turn of events. Jesse didn’t move, and Remus pulled his fingers out of my hair and grabbed my chin instead. The other arm wrapped around my shoulders and chest, pinning me to him. “I can break her neck,” he mused to Jesse. “I mean, I’m pretty sure. Never actually broken a neck before. But how hard can it be?” I could hear the interest in his voice. Jesse must have too, because he dropped the gun. Before I could protest he had kicked it off into the darkness.