Vamp, Wolf, or Shifter?

No Sudden Movements

“Come on, Balto. We’ve been gone long enough already.”

I stumble through the dark path back to the mansion, cradling my recently wounded hand—the one that I punched Dean in the face with after he told me the most ridiculous lie I’ve ever heard.

Well, can you blame me? I pour my heart out to the guy—okay, not entirely true, but I still told him everything he wanted to know—and he claims my new adopted family are vampires?

What a f*****g asshole.

With every step I take, though, tiny, stabbing thoughts try to weasel their way into my mind. The image of their impossibly light eyes and incredibly pale skin. The eerily smooth, cold feeling of not only Cooper’s hand, but Julia’s, too.

The way so many of the students at Pewter look… 

If the Roswells are vampires, is it possible they’re not the only ones in town?

I shake this ridiculous question out of my head as I push myself forward toward the mansion. Once I get within eyeshot of the guard at the front entrance, though, something makes me stop walking.

It wouldn’t hurt to try a little spying of my own, would it? Just to be safe?

I don’t want to spy on Cooper. I trust him much more than I trust Aidan, and I care more about preserving the friendship—or whatever it is that we have. 

I’m fairly certain I know where Aidan’s bedroom is; there aren’t many people who actually live in the mansion, and I can usually trace the sound of footsteps to the general area of where everyone stays. 

I edge my way to the side of the mansion, then scan the long, thick strands of ivy that climb their way past the creepy, blackened bricks of the building. They look sturdy enough, and I am pretty light… Do I dare?

What do I really have to lose at this point?

“Wait here,” I whisper to Balto as I reach for the vines and start to climb.

I make it to the third floor without too much trouble, but the rest is trickier; the vines run up and down, but I need to get around the corner and four windows down. Cringing from the still-stinging pain of my punching hand being overused, I reach over for the nearest protruding brick and work my way over.

Aidan’s bedroom, being the master, is front-facing, which means I’m technically now scaling the same side of the mansion that the guard is on. But I’m far enough above his head at this point that I don’t think he’ll see me.

By the time I reach Aidan’s bedroom, my punching hand is in so much pain, I’m tempted to let go entirely. But when I catch a glimpse through his window, that pain is temporarily forgotten—replaced by a feeling of sheer panic.

There’s a woman in there with him—a naked woman. He’s having s*x with her…

And he’s biting her f*****g neck.

I resist the urge to scream—to let go—to fall. I resist the urge to punch the glass and dive at him—to save the woman who’s blood he’s sucking.

Is he going to kill her? Is this the Twilight kind of vampire situation, where the taste of blood sends vamps into a murderous frenzy? Or is this the True Blood kind of vampire situation, where drinking blood from humans is more of a casual, s****l activity?

Does it matter? I think as my heart starts to pound. You have to get the f**k out of here. Now.

I peer through the window one, last time, praying that he doesn’t kill the woman. He lifts his head from her neck, blood staining the corners of his smooth, pink lips, and—thank God—she doesn’t clatter to the ground. In fact, she pretty much looks to be enjoying herself.

True Blood scenario, then, I think grimly. At least there’s that.

I sidle away from the window, scurrying back in the direction I came from and clambering down the vines I climbed. I drop them about halfway down, falling hard onto my hands and knees, grimacing, and taking off into the woods.

He might not be a murderer, but he’s still a f*****g vampire.

There’s no other explanation, is there? Normal people don’t just casually suck the blood out of their s*x partners’ necks. And even if they did, there’s all the other signs—the pale skin—the light eyes—the fact that Dean straight-up told me…

I groan as I increase my speed.

Where am I going? I could go back to the stables, but Dean is probably long gone, and anyway, do I want to see him any more than I want to see Aidan? Dean might not be a vampire, but if he knows the truth about the Roswells, and the Roswells hate him, he could be his own kind of monster.

A deep, guttural growl sounds from below me, and I glance down at Balto, who, honestly, I had completely forgotten about until now. It doesn’t surprise me that he followed me into the woods; he’s always been that loyal of a dog. But why is he growling now?

I come to a stop, glancing around. How far did I run? There’s almost no light here—no spillover from the mansion, nor from any street lights. The few trees and plants I’m able to make out, I can only see by moonlight.

“What is it, buddy?” I ask Balto, trying to follow his gaze toward whatever he’s barking at.

And that’s when I see it: a bear.

A f*****g bear.

Could this night get any worse? Would someone like to bring my parents back to life, only to murder them in front of me? Because I’m pretty sure that’s the only way it could.

“Easy, boy,” I murmur to Balto in a deep, low voice. I raise a slow, careful hand toward the bear as I cautiously lift a foot to step backwards. “No sudden movements.”

I manage that step, and then a second, before the bear decides not to let me go.

As it lunges at me, Balto lunges at it.

I hear myself release an ear-splitting scream as the bear chomps onto my arm, but the pain is so agonizing, I can hardly tell what’s what. I’m vaguely aware of Balto clawing and biting at the bear’s hide, but it doesn’t seem to do any good, and then the bear releases me from its snout, but that hurts even more than the initial bite, and I’m sure, sure, that I’m going to die in a matter of seconds, and—

Time seems to stand still as the creature emerges from the darknesss. Its silvery-white coat—not unlike Balto’s, yet so much more brilliant—seems to radiate moonlight, sending it bouncing in every direction—lighting up the otherwise black woods.

And then, suddenly, it’s upon the bear—knocking it off me with ease—sinking its teeth deep into the bear’s flesh.

It’s nearly the size of the bear, I realize in disbelief. It’s… massive.

But it is, undoubtedly, a wolf.

The bear doesn’t stand a chance. Within seconds, it gives up the fight; seconds after that, it dies altogether.

The wolf looks up at me then, blood staining its snout the same way I saw the blood around Aidan’s lips after he tasted the woman he was f*****g. I stare back at it, utterly mesmerized. It’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. 

And those eyes… Those deep, dark, soulful, almost humaneyes, that seem to go on forever with never-ending questions…

My jaw drops, and my hand flies to my mouth.

“Dean?”