Could I Be A Werewolf? [BOOK 2]

I walked to my room, but Bane banded an arm around my middle and pulled me back against him. We fought for a second or two, partly because I was still mad at him and partly because I was now a teeny, tiny bit scared of him.

But the man said he never went to bed angry, and I would never sleep in a bed that wasn't his. He offered Samantha and Luther my old room, and told Casper to sleep on the sofa. The vamps could have gotten their own rooms, but they stayed and followed Bane's orders. Which left me with two choices: sleep with my husband or sleep on the floor.

I studied Bane, needing to distract myself. God, why do men have such long lashes? I mean, why do they need them? Bane had long, thick lashes; the kind that Maybelline promises but never quite delivers.

His skin was also smooth, like, baby smooth. I wondered how old he was when he was turned. I sighed loud and long, hoping at the same time that Bane would, and would not, wake up. I was torn. I wanted him to get up because my ADD was starting to act up, and I was about two seconds away from hyperfocusing on all the issues I'd been doing a great time of stuffing into a box, but I didn't want him to wake up at all because Bane was a part of those issues and I really needed to deal with that.

I wished I could sleep, because I was pretty terrible at distracting myself.

"But I can't," I muttered as I forced myself out of bed. Bane didn't move, didn't twitch a muscle.

I dragged on some clothes, slipped on shoes, and I was out the door in a few minutes. I was hungry—starving, actually. The food I had eaten earlier was probably miles away in some sewage treatment plant becoming safe drinking water. Ha, I wouldn't drink that.

"Where is a McDonalds when you need one?" I groaned as I left the hotel and searched, in vain, for the bright yellow arches announcing that delicious, artery clogging, heart attack inducing food was just a little ways away.

No such luck. I was never lucky. Freaking never. Everyday, or most days, I used to do one of those scratch off lottery tickets. Most I ever won was 22 dollars. That couldn't even cover the money I spent on them.

So, I was awake at whatever o'clock in the morning, starving, with a case of insomnia. I also had a terrible case of denial, like need-to-go-to-the-emergency-room bad.

Yeah, I admit it, I was a little stupid. I definitely had my dumb blonde moments, but I'd like to think those were few and far between. I was also a liar, though I only lied to myself. I'd become really good at it, too. Like, I'm not stupid, and I totally know what's going on; and I trust Bane, my husband, because he's the only thing I've got.

I was the queen of bullshit.

"Okay, okay, okay, Peaches," I rambled to myself as I strolled down a dark street and spied a black and white sign. Oh! Sephora! I loved their stuff, best brands. I was a sucker for Urban Decay. Their eyeshadows were to die for, just...

I snapped my attention back. "Focus. Come on. Focus."

I'd been going in circles for a while—not literally but in my head. Bane. Mysterious, ancient vampire Bane. What was he really after?

Sure, I wasn't basing the majority of my experience on TV anymore (only because that turned out to be a bust), but I knew men. Simple creatures, sort of like me. I wasn't a real complicated girl. Plop me in front of a Law & Order: SVU marathon with a bucket of wings and a tub of double chocolate ice cream and I was set.

I got guys. They wanted sex, food, and sleep. Simple creatures. But Bane? He'd been a guy for—yeah, I'm gonna assume this one—centuries, and had plenty of time to get enough of all three. Wouldn't he want more than that? Wouldn't he want excitement and something interesting?

I scratched at the black fur on my arm again. "Well, I sure am interesting." No denying that.

I turned a corner and walked down a hill. I smelled salt water, and for a second I imagined diving into the sea and becoming a mermaid. I could swim, swim, swim away from everything, eat burger wrappers, and get caught in those plastic six-pack things. Ah, the life.

"But I'm a werewolf." I tried the words out on my tongue, needing to hear them—because I was alone and it was creepy—and needing to say them.

Vampire's didn't burn or explode in the sun. Maybe werewolves spit acid and could read vamp minds. But Bane said I wasn't a werewolf. I rolled my eyes at my own idiotic thought. Bane said a mess of things I barely believed.

I walked past a Starbucks, down the steps, around a fountain, and up until I hit the railing of the boardwalk. I took in a deep breath of water that was likely more polluted than the poop coming out of my butt.

I missed talking with my mom. Granted, the conversations were usually a jumble of a hundred different topics, but we still managed to circle back around to the issues I was having. But trouble with Lisa at Kmart didn't have anything on me accidentally killing a person.

I was still dealing with that hot mess. It wasn't like Ariel hadn't deserved to die—bitch had it coming—but, I don't know... A part of me wanted to actually face her and knowingly kill her instead of her just dying because her fangs cut the poisonous artery instead of the blood one. But that made me feel awful, because shouldn't humans not want to kill other creatures?

Mrs. Shift, my ninth grade creative writing teacher, used to say that we all walked a fine line and that good and evil, insanity and sanity, right and wrong, were all just sides of a coin. Or had I read that in a book? Whatever. Point was: I constantly walked a fine line, throwing a coin up and hoping it landed on the good side. My big fear was that it landed on the bad side, the wrong side. Or had that already happened?

When I died and came back, did I somehow become evil? Was I, like, a werewolf demon monster thing? Was I going to doom the world like all those heroines on TV and in the books? Where was that gypsy fortune teller or that prophecy on crinkly old paper telling me the future?

"Georgia?"

I spun around, lost my balance, and started to fall back over the railing. I flailed my arms, but a small hand wrenched me back and I crashed into its owner.

"Careful, there." The woman I fell against rubbed my hair comfortingly. I took a deep breath in as my heart calmed down. I looked up, and sure enough, it was Samantha.

"Oh my globs!" I pushed away from her and gripped my chest. "You scared me to death."

She was dressed in a long white dress that looked turn-of-the-century with a dark brown shawl around her shoulders. The petite woman smiled and linked her fingers in front of her. "Then you'd be dead."

"I am."

She smiled at me, the sort of smile my mother used to give me when she knew something I didn't. "What are you doing out here, Georgia?"

I straightened and ran a hand through my fading red hair. "Don't call me that."

Samantha frowned and tugged the brown shawl closer. "But isn't that your name?"

If vampires could change their names, I didn't see any reason I couldn't, especially with everything I'd gone through. "It's not the name I want to go by anymore."

I turned around and gave the woman my back. Samantha didn't take the hint and instead moved closer to me, leaning against the railing.

Man, was I tired and hungry. The water smelled like fish and chips. I could go for some fish and chips.

"What are you, Georgia?"

I rolled my eyes. I'd heard that question more times in the last five days than I'd heard it all my life. "I don't know. Isn't that why everyone is here? To try and figure out what I am?"

The woman shook her head, and some of her brown hair came loose from its bun. "No. Some are here to just use you."

"Is Bane one of those?" I asked. Maybe she could use tarot cards to divine my future. Hmm ... Peaches, I'm seeing you losing twenty pounds and having a sudden ability to eat all the fast food and chocolate you want without gaining an ounce.

That was something I would not only get behind, but pay to have.

"I'm not sure," Samantha sighed. "Miliki is... complicated."

"Why do you keep calling him that? I mean, I get that it means king, but it's not like there's a castle or a crown laying around."

She turned to me and reached for my hand. "I say that because that is what he is. In our world, Bane is a king, his sister is a queen, and you are also—"

"Don't you say it."

"—a queen," Samantha finished. "You might not like it now, Georgia, but that is what you are. The terms are different from the ones today as are your roles."

Turning into a mermaid was really starting to sound a lot better than being a werewolf. Hell, turning into a were-pigeon so I could fly away, sounded better. Of course, I'd sort of known Bane was a king; he'd told me himself. But it was one thing hearing it from a king who was a king but didn't really have any of the kingly qualities, and another hearing it from a subject. Ah, that was confusing.

I could say I felt like a queen without really being one. But now, I could feel like the nastiest, meanest person on earth, but the vamps would still have to put "queen" in front of my name. I didn't want that.

I hadn't played with Barbies when I was growing up, or dressed up like Disney princesses. I hadn't imagined that my perfect guy was going to sweep me off my feet and carry me to his castle. I'd been a tomboy, the type of girl to dance in the rain, make mud pies, and chase a boy down and rub sand in his hair instead of telling him I liked him.

I was not cut out to be a queen, especially not Bane's queen or a queen of vampires.

I sighed and turned to Samantha. "It's getting cold out. Ready to head back inside?"

She nodded her head and smiled at me like my grandmother used to.

"Seriously," I asked, "How old are you?"

We started walking back down to the water fountain and up the stairs. "I'm 353."

"Really?" I stumbled on a step and almost fell, but I caught myself. "Do you know how old Bane is?"

Samantha twined a brown strand of hair around her fingers. "No one knows exactly how old he is."

I frowned as we walked up the hill. God, why were there so many steps over here! I wasn't saying I hated walking, but it's not like I suddenly loved it now that I was dead. "Why's that?" I wheezed.

"Because he adapts more quickly to the changes of time. Miliki is able to assimilate easily." She looked at me, but it was too dark to see her eyes clearly. "It is much harder for some of us to relinquish the ways of the past."

I understood that. Before my grandmother died, she always referred to Black people as "colored people." It wasn't like she was trying to be rude or anything; it was just her generation, and she didn't want to change because she was going to die anyway.

"So vampires are turned?" I asked, because I'd been wondering that for a while. "Not, like, born?"

Samantha sighed. "Perhaps they were born once upon a time, but I've only met those who have been turned, and I have never heard about a vampire being born."

"How do vampires die?" I'd been wondering that for a while, too, but Bane had yet to tell me. Garlic, crosses, and that other vampire lore were useless. I couldn't even push him out into the daylight if he suddenly thought I was a great snack, because the sun did nothing but give him a tan.

We turned a corner and weren't going up a hill anymore. I was so happy, I could have kissed the uneven cobbles under my feet.

"Sever the spinal cord." Samantha drew her shawl more firmly around her. "Vampires' hearts no longer beat, so stabbing them there is useless."

I frowned. "But I killed Ariel with my blood."

Samantha stopped and gripped my arm tightly, backing me against the front of a store. Her voice was low, rushed. "You must never say or think that. If others of their kind find out what you can do, they will kill you."

I stared down at Samantha. Girl didn't look older than 17 but she acted like she was nearing sixty. However, it was this weird flow of—I wanna say magic?—coming off her that really made my eyebrows shoot up.

I tried to push, but she wouldn't budge. I sighed, exhausted. "Okay, okay, I won't say it, but I can't help it if my mind wanders."

"You must."

"I can't must anything." I rolled my eyes so far back it gave me a mini headache. "If you haven't noticed, telling me what to do hasn't worked out so well for Bane, and it didn't end well for Ariel."

Samantha's brown eyes darkened. I swear something moved in them, but that could have just been the electronic commercial sign flickering at the bus stop near us. I kind of hoped it both was and wasn't, because (a) her being possessed would be pretty cool, and (b) I hoped it wasn't, because her being possessed might not be good for my health.

I heard her voice, but it sounded different, like she was speaking through a phone in a blizzard. "They all have different methods, Georgia. The people that want you will hurt you, they will use you, they will—"

"Look," I said, cocking my hip. "Every villain is going to have similar plans and goals and ways of getting information. I don't give a shit about them, because I know they're bad. I know I can't trust them."

I looked her up and down critically. "Isn't it the supposed 'good guys,' the 'heroes,' I should be looking out for? Bad is always gonna be bad, but good can change sides easily without anyone knowing."

Samantha's expression cleared and she blinked: surprise, confusion, and finally astonishment crossed her face. "You—you are quite right, Georgia. Very insightful, in fact."

The woman looked at me like I'd suddenly become some kind of law professor. I was both insulted and proud of that look. Did I really come off as being as dumb as bricks, or did my short attention span cover up my brilliance?

I yawned, full on, jaw cracking, eye watering yawn. I didn't give a damn if she thought I was stupid or smart or a queen or whatever. I still had to come to terms with what I actually was. I wasn't a vampire, that was for sure, so maybe I was a werewolf? I was hoping that was the case, at least.

"Alright." I stretched, shook my body, and slapped my cheeks. "Let's hurry to the hotel before I keel over on this street and become rat food."

Chapter Two: What's That? Where? Over There? It's...

I have a love/hate relationship with waking up. One, I loved dreaming because my dreams were awesome and fun; and two, I just plain liked sleeping. But I seriously hated waking up, or more specifically waking up now, because I never knew what to expect. Would I be in a morgue? Tied to a chair? Being sexed by my hubby? It was anyone's guess.

This morning was no different.

I woke up slowly and angrily. Some dumbass thought it was okay to make a bunch of obnoxious racket early in the morning. Guess what? It wasn't.

Throwing off the sheet and comforter, I slammed open the door and glared at the supernaturals moving around. There was a bellhop in the middle of the room with all our luggage loaded onto a cart. I glared at him along with everyone else.

"The fuck's going on here?"

"We're leaving," Bane said easily, turning to the bellhop.

I growled. Actually growled. Like a freaking wolf. "And you thought it was alright to do it at—" I searched around wildly for a clock, and some of my anger fled, replaced with guilt and embarrassment when I saw the time "—one o'clock in the afternoon?"

Bane escorted the bellhop out and told Casper to go with the guy. My husband turned back to me and gave me one of those looks. I could write a freaking book about all of them. This one said: you're not going to say you're wrong and apologize?

I crossed my arms, cocked my hip, and stared him down. I returned the look with one of my own: nope.

"Go get dressed, habibiti."

I tossed my head. "I am not a dog, Bane."

"You sure about that?"

I couldn't tell Bane he was wrong, but I would not give him the satisfaction of hearing my angry outburst. I was already broadcasting "screw you" as loud as I could through my thoughts.

So I wasn't good at comebacks. Yeah, well, I had other talents: namely cursing like a sailor, eating like a pig, and being the surprising paranormal on the block. I smiled and flipped my hair. I still had it.

I started toward the bathroom, not because Bane had commanded me, but because I wanted to get ready. But something dark on my side of the bed caught my eye.

"Please tell me I didn't bleed all over the sheets," I groaned, making my way over there. I don't know why I thought dying would've stopped my reproductive organs, since it hadn't stopped my heart. Wishful thinking, maybe? The MSing might explain why I was waking up so late and biting everyone's head off.

I blinked down at the dark smudges on my bed and noticed it was my fur/fuzz. I looked down at my body. Nope, still fur. Had I shed during the night? Ew, that was gross. I poked at the black hair and nearly gagged when I saw flakes of skin mixed in. Yeah, they were my flakes of skin, but still.

Or had I shifted into a wolf?

"Peaches!" Bane interrupted my thoughts with a knock on the door. I pulled a sheet over the hairy mess just in case he decided to come in. "We are on a schedule. Hurry up."

I stuck my tongue out at the door before I turned back to the bed. There wasn't much to do now. I mean, this pretty much proved it. I was shedding, like a dog, and that only meant one thing.

I sank to my knees, my arms on the bed, eyes staring at the black stuff growing on my body. "Ah freaking A, I'm a werewolf."

Chapter Three: On the Road Again

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Bane gritted as we strolled through the hotel lobby to the valet booth.

I ran a quick hand through my hair and pulled it into a ponytail. I really needed to hit a beauty supply store and grab some more shampoo, because this whole purple thing happening to my hair was not working for me.

Bane pulled me close and placed a kiss on my head. "You'd look good with purple hair."

I glared up at him, trying not to look at the skin-tight white t-shirt and low-slung dark blue jeans he wore. Mm-hmm, the guy could pull off anything. It all just looked so good on him. Put me in any light pastel colors my Scandinavian blood starts showing and I look white and pale.

"Don't try to change the subject, honey," I said sweetly. The minute I'd emerged from our bedroom in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, I'd declared that I was a werewolf. Unfortunately, only Bane had been there, and the whole standing-at-attention thing I'd been going for was just wasted on him.

The vampire just got up and asked, "Ready to go?" Then we left.

I tried to hound him in the elevator, but he shut me down. I wasn't a girl to be shut down.

"Bane, I'm a—"

"Get in."

That was fine with me. I'd just trap him in the car and have the discussion. I peered around for his Lambo but only saw a silver Buick. The valet ran up to Bane and handed him a set of keys.

"Where's your car?"

I watched Bane walk over to the Buick and climb in. He turned to me and tossed his head. "I traded it. Now get in."

I held up my finger. "Hold up. You're trading a Lamborghini for a Buick? That's what you're saying?"

He smirked. "I traded something ostentatious for something that blended in a bit more."

It wasn't like I was a car fanatic, I wasn't. I couldn't even tell the difference between a Camry and a car that looked like a Camry. See, I couldn't even come up with names. It wasn't like I really cared that we had a new car all of a sudden, but the last one had been a Lambo. Couldn't he at least have gotten a Lincoln or a Maybach?