Robb
The wounds I suffered aren’t that terrible today, and I don’t find any new cuts. A few scraps, some tender ribs, and more than a handful of bruises. I’m sure I’ll be even more colorful tomorrow.
I remove my shirt and stretch. It should be a relaxing move, but stretching is painful. My muscles are stiff, and the burning sensation returns to some of the scars on my chest. Why’s that? I don’t know. Maybe my body is just pushed to the limit and is trying to fight back. I can’t be sure.
With a groan, I sit with my back to the wall, the same spot I’d been sitting with the cat. Honestly, I already miss her, and I have no way to know if she’ll ever come back. Maybe she sensed the other werewolves, but why would they scare her when I hadn’t? Or maybe she sensed their malcontent, their rage, their hatred.
I close my eyes to try to shove the troubling thoughts away and wait for Bellanore.
It takes a few minutes longer than I would’ve thought for Bellanore to enter the cave. I’ve debated exiting to see if she’s still talking—or, more likely, arguing—with the bullies, but she’s here now, and I give her a wan smile.
“You should maybe move,” she says softly as she comes to sit beside me.
“Move over?”
“No. Move to somewhere else. Roald knows you’re here. If you’re elsewhere…”
If I’m elsewhere, the cat might not be able to find me.
Then again, cats are hunters or at least can hunt when they want to. If she could sense the curse and magic on me before, maybe she’ll be able to find me elsewhere.
“Are you suggesting that I…” I eye her.
Her cheeks flush. “I can sleep on the floor,” she says slowly.
“You want me to move in with you. Isn’t that a bit forward of you?”
“I want to make sure you don’t die,” she snaps. “Your friends have turned into enemies.”
“They were never friends,” I protest.
“Who you spend time with is a reflection of who you are.”
“I told you before. They—”
“It’s not that hard to walk away. You have legs. They work.”
“For now.”
She inhales and exhales several times before rolling her eyes. “I don’t understand yoga,” she mumbles.
“Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“I… I’m still upset.”
“Upset with me?”
“With everything! Your never friends or whatever are worse than my bullies. My bullies protected you! Why? They never said. Why are Roald and Nia coming after you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she figured out I tampered with her poison. It’s pretty clear that we aren’t for them and that we aren’t against the vampires just because they’re alive. Alive-ish. Whatever. We don’t want to kill every vampire we see, so if we aren’t with them, we’re against them. In their minds.”
“But why would Wyatt—”
“To mess with Roald? I don’t know. I don’t care.”
“You’re grateful.”
“Well… yes.”
I exhale. “Please consider moving in with me. We can hide you there. You’ll be safe. I’ll have the door locked at all times—”
“You want me chained to the bed too?” I ask dryly.
“No.”
I blink a few times. “I would hope not,” I mutter.
My attempt to get her to smile fails, and she stands and starts to pace. “We have to get to the bottom of this.”
“Bottom of what?”
“This claim that the demons are behind all of the animosity! If the demons are somehow affecting the students here, maybe that’s why there’s so much fighting, not just between werewolves and vampires but with the bullies, with the rough crowd… Maybe there is something to it.”
“Or maybe we should just ignore all of that.”
She pauses just long enough to glare at me. “Why would we do that? How can we do that? The rough crowd—”
“Yes, they came after me, but I have legs. I’ll just walk away. Isn’t that what you said I should do?”
Bellanore throws up her hands, clearly exasperated with me, and I don’t blame her. I love to get her going, though. Her passion is a sight to see, and she’s fighting for me. What guy wouldn’t want that?
Although I’m like most guys, and I wish I didn’t need her to fight for me. I want to handle my own battles, but my body is a traitorous cage.
“If you’re in my room, you’ll be safe. I can keep you safe.” She sits across from me and holds my hands tightly. “I know you don’t want to hide away, but…”
“I’ve been doing that all year anyhow?” I ask grimly.
“Well, yeah…”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll think about it? What is there to think about?”
“You want to smuggle me into your room in a castle filled with female werewolves. They’ll be able to smell me. We’ll have to trust them all. Not only that, but if I’m discovered, and let’s be honest, it’s not that hard to figure out that I might be in your room. If they want to find me, they’ll find me, whether I’m here, in your room, or somewhere else on this campus.”
“So we’ll use flowers to disguise your scent,” she says desperately.
“Bellanore, is the only reason why you want me in your room because of wanting to keep me safe?”
“Does there need to be another reason?” she asks.
I huff a breath out my nose. Yes, there should be another one, but clearly, she’s not thinking like that.
Bellanore eyes me, and then her gaze falls to my bare chest. She sucks in a breath and touches the topmost scar on my chest. I don’t mean to, but I flinch away from her touch even though it’s gentle and doesn’t hurt any.
“Let me tend to your wounds,” she murmurs.
“You can’t. I’m just bruised. No new scars gained this time. That’s a good thing.”
“A good thing would be a day when you aren’t in danger,” she counters.
“Well, that’s my life, day in and day out up until the day I die.”
Her eyes narrow. I would’ve thought my depressed speech would’ve made her sorrowful, but instead, her eyes flash, almost looking red for a second.
“You took more, didn’t you?” she accuses.
“It was either take more or not sleep, take more or not breathe, take more or risk dying.”
“So that’s a yes.”
I almost laugh. “Yes, it’s a yes.”
“That’s it. I’m going to find a witch and—”
“Pay with what money? I don’t have much at all after paying tuition for three years up front.”
“You paid for all three years?”
“Yes, with the money—”
“From selling your house. Did you really think you would be here for three years? That you would kill… That you wouldn’t die?”
“I figured that if I died, it would be a donation to the school, that they could give my slot to someone else. Back then, I thought the school was a decent one. Given the students here, I’m not so sure that’s the case anymore.”
Bellanore releases my hand and rubs her forehead. “There’s more than one way to get a witch to do what you want.”
“Blackmail?” I ask, shocked she would consider that route.
“There’s nothing I won’t do to help you,” she says firmly.
“You’ll turn demonic for it.”
“I can’t turn demonic,” she says, her tone now cold. “I am demonic.”
“They say that necromancers first learned how to use their powers because they were motivated out of love.”
“Yes.”
“Some called that love obsession, though,” I add.
“I can’t blame you if you’re obsessed with me,” she says lightly.
“Who says I’m obsessed with you? If anything, you’re obsessed with me. You’re the one who showed up when I was getting attacked.”
Hmm. Actually, you did that too,” she points out.
I yawn.
“Don’t let me keep you up,” Bellanore says. “You can go to sleep.”
She eyes me and waits.
“I’m not sleeping in your bed.”
“Why not?”
“That’s weird.”
“A lot of guys—”
“I’m not most guys.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not extending this offer to any other guy.”
“Maybe…” I was about to make a joke of some kind, but another yawn cuts me off, which is probably for the best because the joke wasn’t all that funny, and she probably wouldn’t have appreciated it anyhow.
“I’ll stay here then while you recover.”
“No. You go.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I want you to go.”
“Why? You don’t want me around?”
“I don’t want a babysitter,” I grumble.
“I’m not babysitting you,” she protests.
“I don’t need a death watch either.”
She crosses her arms. “You’re the most difficult werewolf alive, you know that?”
“Well, that might not be an issue much longer.”
“That’s it,” she declares, jumping to her feet.
“You’re going to go all demon on a witch, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to do what I have to,” she declares.
And she teleports out of there.
Not two seconds later, a bundle of black fur comes rushing in. The meows are too fast for me to understand.
“Calm down,” I try to tell the cat, but when I go to pick her up, she almost claws me. “Hey!”
“Who said that?” she meows.
“You were eavesdropping?” I accuse. I have my hands up so that the cat can’t hurt me.
“You’re friends with someone who wants to go all—”
“That someone is trying to help me.”
“You’re beyond help.”
“I know that. She knows that, but she doesn’t want to accept that.” I slowly lower my arms, hoping the cat won’t change her mind and attempt to claw me again. “Why did you leave earlier?”
“Why do you think?”
“Ah, so you’re a scaredy-cat,” I tease.
The cat flashes her claws. “I should kill you for that.”
“You’d save me the trouble.”
“If I could, I would give you one of my nine lives.”
“Cats don’t really have nine lives,” I argue.
“Don’t we?” she meows.
I lift my eyebrows.
She makes a soft whine that might be a feline sigh. “Witches. Witches can’t bear to let us die.”
“Witches aren’t necromancers,” I counter.
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
“It’s not really nine lives. They just heal you from the brink of death. They don’t actually bring you back.”
“Close enough.”
“I suppose so, but that won’t help me any.” I lean back, my head resting against the stone wall. After a moment, I crack my eyes open. “I wasn’t sure you would come back.”
“I wasn’t sure I would either.”
“Why did you?”
“I’m a sucker for lost causes.”
“Geez, thanks.”
“You asked. Want me to lie next time?”
“No. I hate liars.”
“Me too.” The cat starts to lick her paw.
I settle down and must have dozed off. At some point, the scent of food makes me stir, but I’m too tired to eat it.
A few days pass. Bellanore still asks me repeatedly to move in with her, but it’s not what I want. I’ve considered looking around campus for another cave, but I don’t. I’m still exhausted and recovering from everything.
That night, I’m so exhausted that I don’t wake when Bellanore brings me dinner. Eventually, I stir and realize the cat is hissing, her back arched unnaturally high.
“What is it?” I ask through a yawn.
She hisses at me and swats something over to me. I expect a dead rat or something, but no. It’s a patch of fur.
Confused, I pick it up. Inside is a canine.
“What in the world?” I ask. “Did you bring this here?”
“I just woke up. It was here. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t know what it is to have an opinion on it.”
“Werewolf fur.”
My stomach churns, and I grab my phone, but before I can call Bellanore, she’s already here.
“You’re so distressed that you woke me up. Do you have any idea what time it is?” she asks. She glances down at her matching purple shirt and short pajamas set, crosses her arms, and then tugs down on the shorts.
“No idea.” I stand and hand her the fur and canine.
Her eyes widen and then shut. Her hand glows a bit, a faint green color, similar to her eyes. When she opens them, her eyes are covered with tears.
“It’s Gayle,” she babbles. “I told her not to try to… She… By the moon, do you think this means… Why would they send it here?”
“Who?” I ask. “What are you talking about?”
The cat looks back and forth between us. “I think I might want to skedaddle.”
“You really are a scaredy-cat,” I mutter. “Bellanore?”
“Wait.” The cat jerks away from Bellanore and makes a face as if she smelled something rancid. “She’s the one who went after a witch.”
Bellanore blinks a few times as if coming out of a daze. Her shoulders slump, and she almost seems like a turtle, as if she wants to hide inside herself. I’ve never seen her looking like this before, and I don’t want to see it now.
“I went to see a witch, yes, but none of them will help, can help, all that.” She eyes the cat. “Will your witch help?”
The cat snorts. “She’s dead.”
“Figures. Everyone around us is dropping like flies.”
How can she talk to the cat over me at a time like this?
“Bellanore, are you trying to say this is… That this belongs to Gayle?” I ask.
The werewolf-demon shudders. “No. It belonged to Gayle.”