Chapter Seven – Angela
Chapter Seven
Angela
After Mark left I crawled into bed and had wild dreams—literally wild.
My wolf, stalking through the forest, pebbles and leaves beneath our feet, the scent of trees, wind rippling our fur.
We drank from a stream and I could taste the water’s cool perfection, and then—fire, somewhere close, the scent of smoke in the air, distant heat, and the sound of spring twigs snapping as the flames made them burst. We ran as one, clambering up a rocky slope in steep jumps, until we reached a cave where there was a small white wolf pup inside.
We grabbed his nape gently in our fierce jaws and started racing him out of the cavern, the fire’s heat lapping at our heels, sounding more and more like the engine of a motorcycle.
“Mom! Mom!”
I sat up in bed, fully myself, slamming my wolf away into the box at the back of my mind. I leapt out of bed, grabbed my robe, and flew down the stairs to Rabbit’s voice as I pulled it on.
“Rabbit?” I shouted back at him in fear. The TV was blaring, and he was sitting in front of it, way too close, holding a cereal bowl in his lap as he sat cross-legged.
“Mom!” he said, without looking away from his cartoon. “We’re out of milk!”
I put my hand to the doorframe and fought to swallow down my panic.
That set the tone for the rest of the day.
I knew Mark was taking care of things—but when?
And how? And would it even work? I watched a car pull out from my apartment’s parking lot as I did, following me four car lengths back as I dropped off Rabbit and went to work—Mark’s ‘friend’ watching me, the car was far too nice for the Pack.
I parked near the back of Dark Ink’s lot, and he stationed himself near the front, closer to harm’s way.
Gray was on silver on the inside—but the Pack members outside of prison weren’t. If they did come by, would one normal guy be able to stop them, no matter how well trained? I frowned at the man and he—whoever he was—nodded in curt acknowledgement. I turned and went inside.
Mattie was there, already working on a client.
I went straight for my tiny office with my coffee, haunted by my fears, and sat down on my chair in the dark.
My dream last night had been so real—and so freeing, just to live and run, before the fire’d come along.
I’d felt so self-possessed and strong—in her world, my wolf always knew what to do.
She never had any questions. She was always right.
I pulled open the desk drawer that held another vial of silver with an eyedropper.
It was time, the full moon was coming, and from the dream I knew she wanted out—and yet half the dream we’d been running toward that pup and away from the fire, to save him.
It didn’t take a psychologist to make the jump from the wolf pup to Rabbit.
She was part of me—and she was Rabbit’s mother as much as I was.
Did she want to keep him safe too? Was that her way of telling me? I didn’t think my wolf could lie.
I crossed my arms in the darkness, hugging myself. “Do you understand what’s going on?” I asked her. “Really?”
A rapping on the office door interrupted me. I knew it was Mattie from the way he cleared his throat before he spoke: “Hey boss—who’s that weirdo in the parking lot?”
I shut the drawer, leaving the silver safe inside. I’d take my chances with her today—better her than the Pack. “I don’t know, just ignore him,” I told Mattie.
It was a slow day—although who knew if that was because of my worrisome guard staring everyone down.
I did the lay-out line work on a dealer’s arm, a series of morpho butterflies of varying sizes, from her elbow up, wrapping around in flight.
It took a few tries to get the stencil just right but after that, following the outlines I’d created was easy for both of us—the pain wouldn’t really kick in till I had to use a larger needle set to lay in colors.
She sat like a rock and was pleased with the outline, making me help her take photos to show off later.
After that, I got a walk-in who came straight up to the counter.
“Do you do cover-ups?” The woman who asked was average sized, but a little too lean, which made her look hungry. The scent of stale cigarettes wafted off of her.
“Yeah, all the time. I’ve got pictures.” I’d specialized in them, after leaving the Pack.
The roses that covered my wolf-prints on my chest were so much bigger and darker than they’d had to be—I’d made a point of learning and practicing cover-ups after that, to save others from the mistakes other artists had inflicted on me.
I opened my portfolio to show her before and after photos.
“Nice,” she said, flipping a page.
“What do you want covered up?”
“This one.” She held up her arm, revealing a paw print, exactly same as mine had been.
“Where did you get that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“From a friend. It was a bad idea—late at night, lot of drinking, you know how it is.”
“Yeah,” I said with a quaver. Because she hadn’t come in on a motorcycle, Mark’s protection had let her walk right on by. “I’m sorry—I’m booked—but Mattie can,” I began. Mattie was working behind me, I could hear his running guns.
“You’re the one I want. You’re the one for me.” It was her mouth saying the words, but I knew it might as well have been Gray speaking.
“Get out,” I whispered.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What?”
Was I over-reacting? What if she were just some shittily tattooed stranger? What if—my wolf pushed forward as I took my next inhale. Underneath the cigarettes was a current of animal musk—not dog, not cat—my wolf knew her own.
“Get out,” I growled louder, with her in my throat.
The skinny girl’s eyes narrowed. “Make me.”
“Get out!” I shouted at her in a voice not of my own, pointing at the door. The girl jumped back in fear, staring at me, and then ran for it. Seeing all this, my watcher finally got out of his car.
“What happened?” Mattie appeared at my side.
I took control back of my body. “She—she was rude to me.” I hugged myself again.
He looked me up and down. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Through my new glass windows I could see Mark’s man considering going after the girl, who was running down the sidewalk. He decided to stay outside, protecting me instead. “It’s my shop,” I said, laying claim to the place, and quieting any dissent.
“It sure is,” Mattie said, placatingly.
I went back into my office, took out my bottle of silver, and shoved it into my pocket.
The rest of the day flew by, because of her there.
Now that I’d let her out inside, I could feel her eyes watching through mine, attracted to the speed of passing cars, her assessing each new client’s smell.
We had different ideas about what made people attractive—she liked sweat much more than I did—but by the end of the day I felt like I could rely on her.
I may not have understood her completely, but I felt sure she was trying.
The driver followed me to Rabbit’s school then home afterwards and Rabbit, bless his heart, never once looked back, telling me about his day with all the enthusiasm a boy could muster. “And I did what that guy said!”
“What guy?” I asked him, a little too sharply.
His face scrunched in consternation. “The one from last night? Who ate dinner?”
And not some random biker. I downshifted. “His name is Mark—what’d you do, baby?”
“I made friends with some of the other kids Molly picks on. I ate lunch with them, and she pretended not to see me.”
“Good job,” I said, reaching over to ruffle his hair.
We ate dinner alone that evening. I hadn’t called Mark all day—I didn’t know why, some attempt to seem self-sufficient, I guess—and after eating, once Rabbit had helped with dishes and had bounded back upstairs, my mother asked the question I knew she’d been sitting on since last night.
“So, did he stay over?” she said, giving me a smile halfway between a grin and a leer.
I flushed from my head to my toes. “For a little.”
“Good,” she said. “And you can tell him I said that.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I fought not to roll my eyes and went upstairs to hide.
Over the course of the next two hours, everyone else in my house was tucked into bed except for me and her. I lay down on top of my rumpled sheets, all my clothing still on, and stared at my phone.
Had Mark given up on me? Had I gotten too complicated?
Had the Pack gone after him first? I stood up and went to the windows, staring out from in-between the blinds, trying to tell which car in the lot outside was the one with the driver, wondering if it was the same one as before.
I watched a car glide in and skip open spots to pause near the curb at the same time as my phone buzzed.
I lifted it and saw a text from Mark: You up?
I texted him back: Yes but shhh, and saw him get out of the car.
I crept downstairs and had the door open by the time he got there. He filled the doorway and then came in, swallowing me in his arms. “The driver told me what happened—are you okay?”
I nodded. “The Pack sent someone over to ask me to do a cover-up. She didn’t threaten me or anything. Just trying to scare me more.”
“Because they’re scared, Angie,” Mark said.
“Of what?” I asked.
He gave me a smile that said he couldn’t tell me. “Stuff and things.”
I sighed and nestled my head against his shoulder. His hands rose, one of them moving up to cradle the back of my neck. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he whispered in my ear. I knew what he meant by the tone of his voice. My knees went weak, and inside her tail swung low.
“Want to tell me about it?”
“I’d rather show you,” he said, lifting my chin to kiss my lips.
I kissed him back eagerly, pressing my whole body against his.
His arms pulled me close, one hand going down to grab my ass and pull my hips towards his.
I wound my arms up around his neck, one hand down his back, the other in his hair, pulling my head slightly back then pushing in again, letting my mouth make promises for the rest of my body.
He reared his head back, separating us to stare down at me, and made an appreciative sound.
“Shh,” I reminded him, as he loosened his tie. He unthreaded it from his collar and held it out like a piece of rope in both hands, then he reached for me, angling it straight like the bit from a bridle. I opened my mouth for it and let him push it in, feeling him tie it firmly behind my hair.
“Good,” he said, surveying me afterwards. “Because I’m going to make you want to scream. Get your ass upstairs,” he whispered, and I ran to do as I was told.