Claimed by the Beast(10)
At the hardware store, he picked up a heavy duty steel door and the rest of the supplies and tools he would need to install it. He also bought three new locks, heavier than what he currently had on front, back, and bedroom doors. With his purchases loaded into his truck, he drove home while creating a mental list of priorities. And priority one was getting the door changed out on his basement, installing the steel door to ensure that if he should shift again, the creature he would become would not be able to destroy his lab or his precious remaining samples.
Trying not to think too much about it, he made one more stop at the grocery store to buy more meat before going home. He pulled into his garage and closed the door, still not fully comprehending what all this meant, what he believed was happening.
On his way into the house, he had another episode, this one lasting a little longer. But the effect of this one was different. It didn't leave him hungry but it didn't quite leave him as he was. This one had him thinking thoughts he should find repulsive, even more repulsive than the thought of having killed the deer in the woods. This one included Judy. Well, not even Judy specifically. He stood in the mudroom on his way into his house, his purchases half unloaded, the door not quite closed behind him and had the irresistible urge to relieve his throbbing, hard cock. And right there, right in the middle of everything, he did just that. It was fast and hard and when he came, the desire for a woman's hot pussy to drive his cock into didn't fully subside. In fact, he wanted more. Much more.
* * *
Rachel sat in her living room, one lamp casting a dim light into the quiet space. Her eyes were closed and she was concentrating hard. Elijah had told her the other day about Marcus' phone call. She wasn't sure how she felt about it now after the initial relief that he wasn't dead had passed. She was listening, trying hard to hear him. Elijah had said he had not shifted in a long time. That explained why she couldn't hear him and hadn't been able to for so long. The gene she carried, her link to the pack, allowed her telepathic communication with the pack when they were in wolf form only, although she hadn't yet perfected the use of it-she'd never had the chance before the massacre.
The gift was in her family but had become diluted over the years. Her grandmother had had the same, but she'd died when Rachel was still too young to teach her how to use the gift. It skipped generations and then reappeared almost at random. The tell-tale sign was the color of the eyes. How it had come about was still a mystery to her. Elijah had explained what he knew, how so many years ago some gene had mutated and rather than a shifter birth, the first woman who could communicate with a wolf pack had been born. There were no female shifters in their pack, only male.
She wouldn't be passing it on to anyone either, not unless she mated with a shifter. It would be as good as gone from her bloodline if she married and had children with a human. For the gift to carry, it had to have the right blood combination.
Marcus would be one of the few who could provide that. Or Elijah but he was like a brother to her. Always would be.
Her face flushed red as she remembered the spanking he had given her. She still wished he hadn't done it on her bare bottom but also realized it was exactly what she needed to have happen in order to get her attention. She shook her head and set the thought aside, getting up to make a cup of tea for herself.
She had been sitting for the last hour trying to listen for and reach out to Marcus but had heard nothing back. But should she be bothering anyway? He didn't want to come back. How many times was she going to make herself go through his loss? Was she such a masochist that she couldn't just let him go?
"He doesn't love you. He doesn't want to come back for you," she said aloud as she poured hot water over the tea bag in her mug. She watched the liquid change color as the tea leaves steeped and said those words aloud again. They no longer had meaning for her; or at least she couldn't allow herself to feel anything over them. Not if she wanted to survive.
After checking the locks one more time, she carried her tea up the stairs and into her bedroom. The sound from the other night still frightened her. Elijah had found nothing in his search that night but something terrible had made that noise. She knew it with every part of her. It was wrong, that sound. And she was sure it wasn't the last time she would hear it.
* * *
Marcus only boarded the flight to Salt Lake City at the last moment. They had called all final passengers, paged him twice, and seconds before the door would have closed, he decided. And he left himself an out: neither Elijah nor Rachel knew of his coming.
* * *
It was almost midnight by the time the door was installed on the basement, the locks added to front and back doors as well as his bedroom door. He had also moved the security camera from over the front door into his bedroom. Lance was tired but he needed to work. He needed to find out as much as he could about what was happening to him, and, more importantly, he needed to find out just how to reverse this side effect of his cure.
He ate a quick meal of the same as he had earlier that morning, this time forcing himself to use a knife and fork. The idea of cooking the thick steak crossed his mind but made him simultaneously nauseous so he set aside any thought altogether and ate before washing up and returning to his home lab. Dennison had left two voice mails for him about half an hour after he had spoken with the man's secretary to push his trip back. He would have to call him back soon, make sure his story was good enough that Dennison wouldn't question him. He would do that tomorrow. For now, he needed to retrace his steps, re-read all of his research, find out where he might have gone wrong. He needed to figure out how to reverse what had happened.
He spent that night and the next day in his lab. Only when he could no longer deny his thirst and hunger and after too many hours of reading did the pain begin again. This time, it was different. This time it felt like it had that last time when he had eventually woken up with the mutilated carcass of the deer by his side.
Struggling through the pain, he climbed the stairs and secured the basement, locking the door. He made his way up to his bedroom. He pushed the key into the lock and turned it, then placed the key on top of the dresser. He wasn't sure why he did that, but as he could not remember what happened during the episodes when he shifted, he wanted to, if he could, trap himself inside his house. Although looking around and out the window, he wasn't sure how much that lock was going to do for him in the end. At least he had secured the basement. That was of the most importance.
He grabbed his head with both hands at the next sharp stab of pain and fell to his knees, burying his face in the carpet. He would have screamed if he had not bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood and he knew instantly he was grossly unprepared. There was no way that lock would contain him once he shifted.
He first heard then felt the sound of cloth tearing and sat backwards, determined to stay conscious for as long as possible. What he saw happen before his eyes was unbelievable as his limbs grew longer, hairier, less human. And when the pain reached its highest point, he did scream just before he blacked out.
Next thing he knew, he was moving fast through the woods, on the hunt for some creature. The branches of trees he ran past scraped his arms and his legs and his vision was blurred. He was using his instinct-wholly following that animal need when he picked up a scent that stopped him dead in his tracks.
* * *
Rachel stepped out of her car and opened the trunk. She took in a deep breath of cool air and shivered on the exhale. Turning, she scanned the dark woods across from her house. A worried expression wrinkled her forehead and she reached for the cell phone in her purse. Once she had located it, she scrolled to find Elijah's number and almost called him, except that at the last minute, she changed her mind and slid her phone into her pocket.
She shook her head. It was nothing. No one was out there. Marcus certainly wasn't. And she had to figure out how to take care of herself sooner or later. She couldn't rely on Elijah for the rest of her life. He had a wife and a small baby to look after. His hands were full.
She gathered up the two bags, balancing them awkwardly as she closed the trunk and went to the front door. Laying a knee up on the wall, she held the bags steady as she pushed the key into the lock and turned it, opening the front door. She had just set foot inside when the hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she knew, without even having to turn, that she was no longer alone.