Scarlet Heat(13)

I lift my head and howl, giving voice to my frustration and pain. Let me in! Please let me in!

Suddenly, a miracle—the door opens. I start to go to it…and stop. Standing there is a girl, but not just any girl—a dead one. A growl starts to build in my throat. Wolves don’t like dead ones. They are not right—not natural. My instincts say they shouldn’t exist. I do not like things that should not exist—they confuse and frighten me.

The dead one is pale with big, sky-colored eyes—a pale girl. What is she doing in the man-house? Why is she in the place the man and I share?

I growl at her again but the pale girl doesn’t seem frightened—or at least, I don’t catch the scent of fear from her. She crouches down and whispers to me, calling me by a name that sounds familiar. The man’s name? I cock my head to one side, trying to understand. Slowly, I limp-hop a step forward.

“That’s it.” The pale girl’s voice is soft and coaxing. It sounds nice…soothing. She calls me from the doorway and I take another hobbling step forward. Her scent is stronger now and I take a deep whiff. Funny, she doesn’t smell much like a dead one. But she doesn’t smell human either. She smells…she smells almost like another Wolf. Which doesn’t make any sense. How can a dead one be a Wolf?

“Come on, boy. Come on,” the pale girl coaxes. I am almost to the door now but when she reaches for me I am suddenly frightened. I don’t know her—how can I trust her?

I jump back out into the yard and give a short, painful yip as the silver biter grinds its teeth in my paw. Hurts. O, it hurts and hurts and hurts. Please, make it stop. Make it stop hurting!

The pale girl is still crouched in the doorway. She looks up at the sky and now I smell a fear scent on her. But she isn’t frightened of me—she is scared of something in the sky. The sun? The light? It is getting brighter and brighter—soon it will be day. I should leave and let the man take over but somehow I can’t. I am stuck, as I have been many times before.

The pale girl looks stuck too. She wants me to come to her but I cannot—I fear her touch. I fear the pain in my paw. I fear I will be stuck forever and the man will never come forward again.

The girl looks up at the sky once more and seems to make up her mind. Slowly, carefully, she steps outside, past the doorway. At once her fair skin begins to blister. I see the pain in her eyes and smell the hurt in her scent but she doesn’t shout or cry or run away. Instead, she walks slowly toward me, talking softly in that soothing voice.

I am beginning to like that voice. Beginning to like it very much.

“Come on, boy,” the pale girl whispers, holding out her hand to me. “Please come in. I can’t be out here much longer, the sun is almost up. Please, just come in and let me help you.”

Her voice is kind and her scent is right. I make a decision. Going forward, I butt my head gently against her knees. The pale girl strokes me, her fingers gentle in my fur. I shiver all over—she is good. I know it now—the pale girl means me no harm. She will help me—she is part of the house. Part of the safety and the end of pain.

I let her lead me in.


* * * * *


Taylor

I sighed in relief when the wolf finally moved past me into the house. I didn’t know if it was Victor or not but I couldn’t leave it out there with that cruel trap on its paw. If it wasn’t Victor, I hoped he wouldn’t mind me having a strange animal in his house. But I would have to deal with that later. Right then I had a patient to treat.

I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about the treatment though. This animal was huge—as big as a mastiff if not bigger. It seemed quiet enough now, sitting there on the kitchen floor with its hurt paw held stiffly out in front of it. But what would happen when I tried to remove the trap?

I took a deep breath. I’m a vampire, I reminded myself. I’ll heal if it injures me. Of course, that didn’t mean having my face torn off by an angry, hurt wolf wouldn’t hurt like hell, but I could deal with it. I had dealt with worse pain in the past six years.

Speaking of pain, I cast a quick look at the blistered skin of my hands, arms and legs. My hair had mostly shielded my face but it was going to take a little while for the marks of the sun to fade from my body. Victor’s blood was helping some though—already the blisters were going down, fading to angry red marks that didn’t feel nearly as bad as they looked. In a day or two my skin would probably be as pale and smooth as it had been before I had ventured out into the dawn’s early light.

The wolf whined softly and I felt a stab of guilt. Here I was worried about a few blisters when this poor animal was in excruciating pain. I had to get that trap off its leg and I had to do it fast—before the sun outside forced me to sleep.