Page 24 of The Red Room
“This is the story of the first.” His voice hits an excited octave. “A deal was struck, and when the agreement was defiled … a curse was brought upon the entire family and their progenies. Old magic. A dangerous one at that. Every time a full moon rose to its place in the sky, theworldwould see them for what they really were.”
It doesn’t take a linguistics major to figure out the word his boney finger hovers over. There’s an M. Something that resembles an O. And the rest are random alphabetic letters that look nothing remotely English. But judging from Lenny’s tone, I can make out the rest on my own.Monster.These people were cursed to show their true selves whenever the moon was full. To wreak havoc on anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way.A beast hidden beneath human flesh. The same animal Nikolai showed me last night despite his pleas for me to get out while I could. I didn’t listen, and now all I see when I close my eyes is the haunting silhouette ofsomethingstalking toward me.
Volk, the next paragraph read.
“A wolf,” Lenny finished.
Volk. No. There’s no way I was too stupid to look up the name of the club. Völk. Wolf. Even if someone translated it they would be none the wiser entering Club Wolf. It was a catchy name. Little dots above the O. Accented signs at the front glowing down to the pavement. Never in a million years would anyone stepping through the front doors guess there’s something far more sinister going on inside. A club in LA run by werewolves … It sounds like something out of a cheesy tabloid or a B-rated horror movie. But it is true. I know I’m not imagining things or using this as some sort of anchor for my own past trauma. Werewolves are real. And Nikolai Vostik is fucking stalking me for slaughter.
“It says here,” Lenny continues, breaking me out of my trance. “Silver will not kill them, but it is enough to irritate them. Dull their heightened senses.” He snorts, nose wheezing around the rims of his glasses. “So, they’re as allergic to silver as I am to dairy.”
Never mind Lenny and his inability to digest lactose. Silver isn’t some werewolf killer like the movies made it seem. It irritates them. Dulls their supernatural senses. It will hurt them but won’t exactly kill them.So why would Nik give me this?I hold the necklace in my fingertips, dragging the crescent moon from one side of my neck to the other. It was left outside my apartment the day after he told me not to come back. Was it some weird form of protection? If Nik was preying on me, why would he give me the one thing to forfeit his upper hand?Ego, I think and scoff in my head. Bad enough he’s wealthy andsuccessful, but he also knows there’s no way I can outrun him.Typical fucking wolfman.
“How can someone even kill a werewolf? Seems like a suicide mission,” I ask and give a slight laugh, doing my best to appear more curious than in dire need of step-by-step instruction.
His face draws serious, a grave expression complete with wide, magnified eyes from the glasses he continues to push up the brim of his nose. “Oh, you’d have a better chance convincing the church the Devil isn’t real. Look,” he says, his tone as grim as the next page. There’s a decapitated wolf head mounted on a spike and the unmistakable furry body set ablaze in what looks like a bonfire behind it. “You have to remove the head. During the day would be more practical, no way a human could take on a wolf that’s transformed. Then, you must burn the body.” He runs his shaky finger along the page, reciting the translated words aloud. “Says any wood will do, as long as it’s hot enough to send the beast back to the hell from whence it came.”
Great. Not only am I being followed by a werewolf, but if I want to put a stop to it, I have to add manslaughter to my small resume.Wolf slaughter?I’m not sure.But I have no idea what in the fuck I’m going to do. He’s following me, leaving claw marks on my door, dropping gifts on my welcome mat, and if I can’t manage to cut his head clean off that magnificent body, I’m going to end up being his next meal. I’ve always scolded myself for picking the wrong ones, but holy shit, I have severely outdone every relationship thus far. Guy who ghosted me after I said I wouldn’t fuck on the first date, step aside, there’s awhole asswerewolftrying toeat my ass whole.
Lenny must notice the blood draining from my face because when he shifts to me, his large eyes soften. “All wives tales, of course. Don’t be fooled by my relics,” he says proudly,waves his hands to every corner of the room and whispers, “it’s just a myth.”
Yeah… a myth. A myth shedding its own skin in the loft above an LA staple. Doubling in size and ferocity while all I could manage was trying and reason with it.Nik.He didn’t look excited before the change. Surely, he wasn’t happy I was there to witness it. No, the man letting go to the monster hiding in plain sight was as terrified as I became once it happened. And when those golden eyes went black, it was almost like I was unrecognizable. A different thing inhabiting his fur-ridden body. Ears as pointed as a knife and teeth even sharper than one.The howl.That horrible sound plaguing my ears after I ran, and ran, and fucking ran as fast as my legs would carry me. This isn’t a myth. Nikolai is out there. And if I wasn’t sure before, I am now. He is watching me.
“What … what does this say?” I ask, swallowing against the sandpaper drying my throat.
Lenny glances from me to the spot on the book I point at. “Dobycha.Prey. It says once a wolf has found its prey, they cannot outrun it. A wolf will die before they let them get away.” His wrinkled face pinches solemnly. “Running is unwise, for a wolf longs for the chase. Whoever is unfortunate enough to get chosen … they better get acquainted with the idea of a very painful death.”
He flips to the next page and an unmistakable feeling of dread drains the blood from my face. There’s a drawing of a woman, fear highlighting every one of her features. And standing devastatingly close behind her is a werewolf, sinking its impressive teeth into the base of her neck. Blood splatters along the page in large black droplets. Pure pleasure is sketched in the wolf’s eyes and slouched brows, almost like it’s smiling while it rips her apart. It’s becoming clear now how incredibly fucked I am.
TWELVE
Unfortunate enough toget chosen, Lenny’s haunting words ring in my ears almost as loud as the door chime when I leave Oddities and Curiosities. After a compelling, and to be quite frank, fucking disturbing history lesson on how the werewolves came to be, I left the small, dilapidated store. Of course, I bought a few things, if only to thank Lenny for his time. Something tells me the shop won’t have the lights on much longer. But I let the small plastic bag with the store name dangle off my wrist, housing a brand-new set of plastic vampire teeth and a manual on safeguarding your home from the paranormal in twelve easy steps. Garlic? No. Salt circles? No. Fire? Well, that might work. Sure, I don’t have a chimney but what kind of psychopath would willingly cross a line of fire to get to me? Fur burns and I’m willing to bet the wolf aiming to make me hisdobychaisn’t fond of having his hair go up in flames.
He's following me. Taunting me. Showing me he knows my every move.God, I wish I never went up to that loft.But do I? Sure, I caught small glimpses of Nikolai Vostik the man, though I’m not sure if it was all some elaborate façade to lure meto my own death, or if any of it was actually real. The shackled monster I found when I climbed up that staircase, absolutely real. What about before? How when he kissed me, everything I had ever known melted away until it was just his lips on mine, our tongues meeting for the first time. How my body reacted on impulse to his touch, the feel of his fingers warming my skin until the sensation became hot. Burned, even. The way he would bring his mouth to my ear and his breath would graze it every time he whispered something to me. Okay, maybe I wish I never went up to that loft thesecondtime.
The streets are more crowded than before, a casualty of the afternoon swell of shoppers filling both the roads and sidewalks to capacity. I make my way up the block in careful strides, watching each corner for even the smallest hint of a man on a motorcycle or god forbid, the alluring scent of cedar, all the while, the sketched images from the mark of the beast play on repeat in my head, one horrible image above all others. The werewolf sinking its teeth at the base of the woman’s neck. The same spot Nik had kissed me so deliciously. Now I wonder if the same thought had crossed his mind and he just didn’t have the full moon to do it. Had Dimitri not saved me last night, there’s no telling what a fully transformed Nikolai would’ve done. I want to be thankful, but at the same time, he knew. There was no shock in the bouncer’s eyes. No fear either. All that tells me is Dimitri has seen it happen before.
I make it another block, dodging the elbow-to-elbow string of people traveling in both directions, using this school of fish as cover should he indeed find me again. There has to be way too many scents to pick mine out, but then again, who knows just how keen his sense of smell is. And what’s going to happen when I get back to my apartment and there’s more claw marks left there in my absence? I can’t afford a hotel, and the last thing I want to do is stay with Courtney only to have her front doorscratched up next. No, something tells me I will eventually have to face him. Nikolai Vostik the predator. And me? Thedobycha.The prey.
“Do you have any spare change?” a scruffy man asks, leaning against the store windows wearing clothes a size or two larger than his thin frame. The scraggly blond hair hidden beneath a ball cap evenly matches his unkempt beard in dire need of a trim. Dirt and sweat coat his sunken cheeks, and when I meet his gaze, his smile gives me unease.
I shake my head and continue forward. “No, sorry.”
He steps in front of me, and with the people passing on both sides, there’s no chance to move around him. I’m blocked in. “Well, you’re out here shopping with the rest of the sheep,” he says and points to the bag dangling off my wrist. “What’s in there?”
My face twists in disgust. “None of your business,” I say and try to move past him to no avail.
Anger takes over his underfed features. Without warning, he snatches me by the wrist, fingers digging into my skin. I look around, hoping someone will put a stop to this, but they don’t. None of them even glance in our direction.
“Get your hand off me!” I scream, earning looks from those passing who can’t be bothered to help. The man tightens his grip on my wrist, now pulling the bag, and me, toward him.
“You’re not going to treat me like gutter trash, you stupid …” His voice trails off. The rage in his eyes dims, and his already pale complexion somehow seems to lose a shade. He’s no longer glaring at me, but behind me.
Cedar.
No. No, no, no.
Fucking cedar swirls in the air. It’s unmistakable. As is the warmth radiating from behind me like I’m standing in frontof a running car with the hood propped open. It’s him.It’s Nikolai.