Anyway, I'd like to once again thank any readers--it's so awesome that you guys have made it to chapter seven on an online, free book by a questionable author--and list my reviewers. Thank you: Tommybear, MiddleEarthGal, smalllittlelegant, 567ajt, Apple, and livurdestiny. I'm so amazed you guys both took the time and had mostly nice things to say (these are all first drafts! proofread, but still). Also, 567ajt? If you've continued reading past chapter four I hope you're enjoying things more now.
Anyway, on with the show!
///
CHAPTER SEVEN
Angela had her head in the sink, which wasn’t something she did particularly often, mind you. Okay, so maybe she did it a bit more than a normal person, but it insured that the drain of the shower didn’t get clogged up by her hair. She could fix sinks but showers were a whole ‘nother beast.
She opened her eyes to watch as yellowy-gold dye washed out of her dark-wet brown hair and down the drain, falling through the holes punched in the silver-painted metal--the sink-stopper, for lack of a proper term.
She sighed, shoulders relaxing a little. Maybe things would go okay. She’d make herself look perfect--not too uptight but not what her mother’s family considered slutty, something able to do high kicks in, of course, and she’d plaster on make-up and a nice fake smile and maybe manage to not scare all the children at the house. Maybe. And at least she’d get to talk to Jeffrey and his wife Tanya. Tanya was awesome.
“I think it might be something that preys on promiscuous males.”
She jumped, banging the top of her head against the tab. “Jeez, Jae! Don’t do that. For chrissake, if you give me a black eye before I go over there, they will not like you.”
“They probably wouldn’t like it if I gave you a black eye after we go over there, either.”
“Very funny,” she muttered, standing up and rubbing the back of her head. She pulled her hand around and looked at her fingertips. No blood.
She was probably going to have a ruddy goose egg up there, though. “I may look like Wile E. Coyote after he had an anvil dropped on him.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Jae said. She looked up at his face. She could see some slight concern, but the smirk on his mouth did more than counterbalance it. “So, what do you think?”
“Succubi don’t steal organs and they don’t steal cats. They’re like Freddie Kruegar, but better looking.”
Jae tipped his head, but nodded. She noticed that he’d managed to get the brown dye out of his hair, but she wasn’t sure how. He probably just got in the bathroom before her while she was still looking through her suitcase trying to decide on what to wear (he’d tossed a band shirt and a pair of skinny jeans at her, but you didn’t wear both of those things at the same time unless you were a hipster or Jae or homeless with nothing better to wear). She’d decided on a black dress with same-black shorts underneath. You couldn’t really go wrong with black dresses, right?
“Maybe a were?”
“That’s what I said in the first place,” she said. “Dude, do not become like my father. If someone comes up with something and you say it’s shiz, don’t say the exact same thing a month later and claim you invented the whole bloody thing.”
Jae squinted. “Whatever. Can I change? I’m still in the monkey suit, obviously, and it itches.”
“I assume you can change, yes.”
Jae scowled. “May I? As in, you won’t walk in on me?”
“You’re a guy.”
“Yeah, so? Would you want me walking in on you?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Whatever. Go do what you will. I’ll close the ruddy door.”
“Thank you.” He tipped his head again.
He was beginning to remind her of this cow-looking cat one of her old roommates had once upon a time--one that would do that to insure you couldn’t grab its scruff after it had done wrong.
“What?” he asked, looking confused.
She shook her head and just brushed back a few pieces of hair that had flopped into his face. “You had hair in your face.”
The look he gave her read--Really? “Whatever. I’m out. You’re being weird.”
Okay, so maybe that was the worst cover ever, but how did you tell a guy he reminded you of a fat black-and-white cat and not hurt his feelings? Especially when you sort of hated cats?
***
“See how the claw marks are?” Jae asked, holding up another photo. He was spread out in one of the motel room’s dusty chairs, laptop balanced on his thighs and papers scattered everywhere.
Where were they going to put their monster info shiz, anyway?
Really should have thought of that sooner.
“I can’t see, moron. You’re moving the pictures too fast and holding them too close.”
“Whine, much?” He held the photo still for a minute, though, letting her take in the sights. There were definite claw marks there--thin claw marks.
“Doesn’t look like something that would belong to a were,” she commented.
“Not a werewolf, maybe. A werecat, though?”
“Dude, I don’t think those are real.”
“Of course they’re real. I hunted one in Lancaster.”
“Seriously?”
Jae nodded and moved the photo away, looking at it himself. He traced the photo image scratches. “Still, it’s sort of weird for one, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“See, it was this chick, Melissa Rose, who was doing it. Once a month she’d turn into this cat-eared freak and go hunting. She clawed her boyfriend’s throat out and killed several neighborhood cats in turf wars.”
“And men are so scared of women on their periods. Sorry, guys, bigger fish,” Angela commented.
Jae made a face.
“What? It’s true. Look at yourself in the mirror, you’re grossed out.”
“Am not. I’m just confused about your use of that Star Wars term,” Jae said blankly. “Anyway, this doesn’t really fit the bill. Tonight is a half moon. Nowhere close to a full moon and the cats were stolen a few nights okay--the moon was somewhere between new and half full. The two boys were killed on a full moon, which is why our theories--yours of a werewolf and mine of a werecat--do make some sense. But why steal a cat when you’re not completely nuts on a feline-change power trip?”
Angela shrugged. She really didn’t have an answer for that.
“Maybe there’s some aftereffects? Did you notice anything on that one case?”
“No, but--I mean, cats go missing all the time. If they weren’t gutted like the ones I did find that was able to pull on old Mel Rose, I wouldn’t have known any better.”
“Are females normally werecats?”
“Why?”
“We need to narrow things down,” she said. It was obvious, wasn’t it?
“No. It’s normally people from puberty to their thirties, though, same as any sort of were. It’s hard on younger and older people to change and they’re more prone to either getting themselves killed naturally or killing themselves by mistake. Also, the virus doesn’t normally work on them,” Jae said, with that “This is science!” tone he sometimes used.
“Maybe it was a berserker?”
“Gah, berserkers have even less control than weres,” Jae said. “Either that, or they’re in total control and wouldn’t do something like this.”
“It seems planned, though. One break in was managed without evidence--’cept for dead bodies--and another only had some cat and cow blood smeared on a broken window. Whatever is doing this isn’t mindless. Heck, whoever it was stole two gold candelabras and I wouldn’t be bloody surprised if that mother didn’t notice some of her silverware missing soon.”
“True. So what hunts and likes cross-species blood, is a good, intelligent hunter with planning capabilities, and likes shiny things?”
Angela bit her lip and crossed her bare arms. She blamed the chill bumps on the noisily working A/C. “I don’t know.” And that’s what terrified her.
“I’m going for a twisted, in control werecat, personally.”
She smiled, unable to help herself. It wasn’t really a happy smile, maybe more of a grimace. At least one of them was trying to see some sort of reasoning.
There really wasn’t any reasoning to the world she lived in--the hunters’ side of the world, anyway.
Sooner or later he’d probably realize it, too.
It would appear, also, that everything that wasn’t pop culture tended to come out to play when she was around. It couldn’t just be werewolves or vampires, oh no. She got all the weirdos of the monster world thrown at her.
***
She looked at the house, hands deep in the trench coat she’d thrown on last minute’s pockets. Her hair stayed stiff at her neck in curls, the wind that blew green leaves out of the trees thirty or so feet up and the twig-like babies that dotted lawns not bothering it. She glanced sideways at Jae, who was watching her, and let out a breath.
“Tense, much?” he murmured and looked over at the house. She followed his gaze. There was her mother’s house. It reminded her of Marge Murphy’s kitchen in a way--it had that innocent, harmless feel to it. Only this house was blue-tinted white, sort of bouncing light off it, with a half moon porch and a sprawling layout, green grass a step off the black asphalt road. Perfect, weedless grass cut diagonally, rose bushes and red bud trees in circular patches of dirt. It was beautiful and it had nothing to do with her, that was sure. She’d grown up in a loft, just her and her father, who was never home. It’d been tight, but open, with a street view and no green in sight.
The lawn itself made her itchy, remembering Central Park’s grass clinging to her legs after a good rain.
“So, are we going to go in or stand around looking like we’re casing the joint for a robbery? Cause that bleach blond over there with Juicy on on her rear and the Asian dog thing is giving me that ‘I’m going to call 911 now’ look. I suppose I don’t fit in?”
“Stop staring at her, then.”
“Wasn’t staring. Those shorts are glowing. I couldn’t help but take notice.”
Angela looked over. Okay, so the neon pink shorts the chick wore were sort of glowing, but--
Angela pinched the bridge of her nose, then looked over at Jae again--took note of his scruffy, yet put together appearance. He didn’t look too much like a junkie and he wore no eyeliner, which was good.
“Let’s go. You look fine, too.”
“Awesome.”
Something moved in the corner of her eye and she twisted her neck automatically, eyes widening as she tried to find whatever it was--something large, not quite on the ground.
“What?” Jae asked, looking over her shoulder, a hand raised to block out the glare.
Her mind replayed what she’d seen. A blackish shape, low but--hovering, almost. A lumpy, formless shape. Nothing that made sense.
“Nothing. Probably just a cat.”
Jae made an appeased sound and, with his hands in his pockets, he started to walk up the lawn. She wanted to tell him to use the sidewalk, but, really, it was grass with dirt under it. Jae’s 150 pounds or whatever couldn’t harm it too much.
She tried not to jerk back right into Jae’s chest when her mother swung open the door without any ado the second she put her finger on the doorbell. She retracted her hand and stood stiffly, feeling what a deer-in-the-headlights might feel.
Her mother looked the same--same long chestnut hair, prettier and glossier than hers, same curvy, shortish body, same big green-blue eyes. She was a pretty woman with a round face and a dazzling smile.
It was hard to imagine this was her mother. Angela’s own height, boyish looks, and lank mousy brown hair didn’t go along with this at all. Her eyes, an electric blue, sort of went with her mother’s, though.
“Hi,” she squeaked out, even as Chele came up behind Mom. Chele with her dark hair, long lashes, and even longer legs--another standard of beauty Angela didn’t fit into, either.
“It’s so good you finally got here,” her mother said, beaming. “I was sure you’d gotten lost or decided to use that motel room for nefarious purposes.”
Angela blinked. She felt Jae’s eyes narrow in on the back of her head.
“Oh well, come in, come in.” Then Mom seemed to notice Jae. “Oh! And is this the handsome young man you’ve been dating for--?”
“Four months,” Jae said smoothly. Angela glanced back at him. He was wearing an easy smile, one that would make most of their costumer’s knees go week or put them completely at ease. He was a charmer.
Too bad it was all a ploy, same as anything he did.
“Wow, not very long then?” her mom asked.
Four months is quite long, actually, Mother, in this day and age.
Chele smiled behind their mom then, pulling that bright smile. Her smile, easy as Jae’s, was obviously real. Even if Chele was a whole ‘nother animal than her, she was at least genuine and she did like her. Angela couldn’t help but smile back.
“Angela, smile properly. I swear, you look like you’ve had a stroke,” her mother said quickly. Angela let her face fall blank and even Chele’s smile’s brightness slipped.
“Come on, Mom,” Chele said, pulling at their mother’s arm. “Let them in.”
***
“Your mother scares me,” Jae whispered, glancing sidelong at Angela.
“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. Not that she could blame him.
“Sort of. I think serpentine water monsters are worse, though”
She grinned, shaking her head, and looked around. They’d been put in one of the sitting rooms, one that faced huge bay windows behind her. Sunlight crashed into the room, making the hardwood floors almost orange and mottling the floral print of the greenish sofa to obscurity. Presents were heaped on a long, skinny desk that ran along one wall and a giant, blank black TV glared at her from across the room.
“I mean, what was she doing? What’s it called--like negging, or something? I don’t know. Just weird,” he said, words rumbling as he slouched back against the beaded couch cushions.
Just so you know--beaded couch cushions equal massive bad idea. While pretty, they hurt. She’d removed the ones on her side and set them in a neat pile.
“I suppose your mother was all cookies, unicorns, and sunshine, then?”
Jae went silent and tensed at her side. She could feel his arm muscles tense tight as a drum against her side.
Awkward.
Of course, most people who were monster exterminators sort of had family issues. He didn’t have to be shy. While she wasn’t on speaking terms with any others of her kind, Jae exempt, she’d heard them talk plenty--complaining about their family and how they’d pushed them into doing mad things was a common occurrence. She’d probably done it a few times. It was like putting a bunch of alcoholics and druggies in a room together with the conversation prompt of: what did your family do to you to make you this way?
She eyed him, wondering what was whirring in that mind of his behind those deep green shark’s eyes, and was still looking his way when Jeffrey and Tanya walked in, followed closely by Chele’s two Papillons. Said two dogs, a tri-color and a white and sable, skittered across the floor and bombarded her legs, jumping, plumed ears perked and eyes happy.
She let out a small laugh and petted the animals. They were great dogs--and litter box trained. If she was worried about Jae adopting one of those pillow-cats, he probably should be concerned about her finding a breeder of these on the way back.
They were awesome.
Except, she spent half of her time driving around slaying things, which was a bummer. Toy spaniels were probably not meant to be left in the care of possibly-helpful neighbors like Ty for extended periods of time or road-tripping.
“So, I see you made it. Thanks for that, by the way. You made me lose a bet,” Jeffrey said, as an opening statement.
She smirked. “Jerk,” she said. “So, how’s the vet business?”
“Same old, same old. Prescriptions for worm meds, people coming in two days late after a poisoning, pets fed the wrong foods, and surgery.”
“Still hating blood, I see?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Interesting profession for that,” Jae commented beside her. She decided to dub the voice he used as his ‘higher than thou alpha male’ voice. Because only wusses were scared of blood.
Which was untrue. She was scared of blood. Blood meant someone was hurt and might die.
Jeffrey’s face went all scrunched in response to Jae’s comment, before smoothing out. He put on a sort of fake smile--he inherited that from his mother, if nothing else--and held out a hand. “You’re the Jae my mother was talking about, I suppose?” he asked.
Tanya rolled her eyes beside her husband and mouthed at her, “Here we go.”
Angela tried to refrain from laughing.
Jae shook Jeffrey’s hand in the way someone shook the hand of someone who had told them they’d won the lottery--all excessive movement--and quirked his mouth. “I’d assume so. Though your mother’s perception of me might not match the reality.”
“I was sort of hoping for that,” Jeffrey said, a bit of his old smile creeping back in. “Anyway, I’m Jeffrey and this is Tanya, my wife,” he said, gesturing back at Tanya, even while he used one arm to pull her closer to his side.
He failed at acting like a scary big brother. He just liked everyone.
Then his eyes, brown like their father’s, locked on Jae. “However, if you hurt her, I will castrate you with a rusty spoon,” Jeffrey then said, even as he smiled widely.
Angela blinked. Well, that was unexpected.
“A spike covered in cow manure might be more effective. That’s how you get tetanus. It has nothing to do with rust, really, more on impaling--”
She moved a hand to cover Jae’s mouth. “You’re digger yourself a deeper hole,” she said, trying to sound like light-and-airy-happy-girlfriend as she did so. She turned her attention to Jeffrey and Tanya. “He knows everything, by the way. You know, historian with a love of gross science-y stuff and theology. He’s a bit of a bore, but he’s adorable, isn’t he?”
At that, Tanya laughed out loud. “I knew you’d totally be a starry-eyed girl once you found the right boy-toy. Denial and all. Always said you had emotions.”
Angela stuck her tongue out at Tanya. “Tanya, can’t you please act like a feminist now? You can go old-fashioned woman on some pregnant lady at the supermarket and try to get her to use cloth diapers and be all up in her business later.”
Tanya looked thoughtful. “Nah. As I shop at Whole Paycheck to keep Jeffro healthy as his animals, I’d be preaching to the choir. Messing with you is more fun.”
“Hater.”
“Girl-who-has-a-boyfriend.”
Angela fell over. “Your statement of the obvious wounded me so horribly. I think I’m dying.”
“What?” Jae actually asked it out loud as he looked between them all, wide-eyed.
“Speaking of Jae, he doesn’t understand people. Pity him. He has no social skills.”
“He’s worse than you?” Jeffrey looked concerned.
“Jerk.”
“He’s an older brother,” Tanya commented, going to sit in one of the leather arm chairs. “It’s embedded in his DNA to be a jerk.”
“Nuh-uh. I was born after, hence his DNA has nothing to do with me.”
“His DNA is psychic.”
“Interesting theory, Tanya.”
Jae leaned over, putting his mouth right up to her ear--which was apt for making her twitchy. “I was wrong, your whole family is loco.”
“Thanks,” she said back, shooting him a grin--and then scooting away slightly because too close.
Jeffrey shot her an odd look from across the room, so she smiled at him and kept patting at the sable and white Papillon, Rudy.
Jae scooted closer again. “You do realize I’ll have to be able to be close to you and even do stuff like have a hand on your back?” he asked, whispering again. “Otherwise Jeff over there will think I am hurting you, currently.”
“Sorry,” she whispered back.
And that’s when Jae rested his chin on her shoulder.
This could get old fast. Really.
“Freakin’ adorable,” Tanya cooed across the room.
Really, really fast.
Angela was like a ninja and ninjas were not adorable. They were terrifying, hence Tanya shouldn’t be calling her adorable. It was just weird.
***
“You cannot find your own bedroom?” Jae asked dryly, eyebrow raised.
She huffed and crossed her arms. They were in some hallway--which one she didn’t know--with her mother’s voice telling them lunch would be ready soon but to go find their room hanging over their heads.
In reality, it wasn’t really her fault she couldn’t find her room. More so that the house had been renovated so many times and it was so frickin’ large. Too many hallways--and hallways that led to hallways, even.
It was confusing as frick.
“It’s been a while,” she muttered finally, only to get attacked from behind.
She almost pulled a cartoon-cat and attached herself to the ceiling but then Analise started squealing--a familiar, if somewhat annoying and slightly endearing, sound.
“Oh my gosh! You’re here,” she said, turning her around to face her. Angela leaned back as far as possible--taking in Analise’s brown eyes and newly-dyed platinum blond hair. Her face was rounder than hers and split with a happy, Cheshire cat grin. “Oooh, and there’s the mystery man.”
Angela looked back, wondering who she was referring to for a second before she spotted an embarrassed-looking Jae, one hand lifted weakly in a form of hello.
Right.
“This is Jae,” Angela said, getting herself loose and going to stand right up against Jae’s side. Two could play at the game, right? He shifted awkwardly beside her.
Analise looked Jae up and down pointedly. “Mom said you’re a historian. Oddly muscular for one of them. Let me guess, at night you’re Batman?”
Jae blanched for a single second, but then laughed--it sounded forced to her ears, but not by much. If she could say anything it would be that he was good at what he did.
He could blow some big celebrities acting right out of the water.
“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “Afraid of heights. However, I do go to the gym and go running with Ang,” he said. He poked Angela’s forearm. “Not that she’d let me do anything different. She’s sort of a drill sergeant.”
“Hey!” she exclaimed, falling into role. She poked him back. “Am not.”
“You definitely wear the pants.”
“I’m wearing a dress--but, yeah, I sort of do, don’t I?”
“Mm, don’t care. It’s--”
“Ach, don’t finish that,” Analise said finally. Angela looked over. Ana had her hands over her ears. “I know where that’s going and I do not like it.”
Jae smirked. “Anyway, speaking of that: where’s the bedroom we’re supposed to be in?”
“Ach!”
***
“So, this is where you used to sleep?” Jae asked, head tilted back as he looked around the ceiling. Angela looked up, too, wondering what he could possibly be looking at. Nothing--except a smooth white ceiling. She wondered if he was looking for something like a tiny chandelier, or fan, or maybe even glow-in-the-dark stars. For the last, both her parents thought they were tacky, so that was out.
Maybe if she’d made a realistic star chart they’d have welcomed it, her father at least--he always claimed she should have been more interested in the world at large, in her schooling. Yet, she was interested in the world--in the parts of the world few got a chance to see nowadays. It was just unfortunately something she couldn’t talk about with anyone except her own.
Jae turning to look at her with big eyes snapped her out of it. “What did it look like before?” he asked, a sort of innocent curiosity to his voice that pretty much weaseled a response out of her.
“Like Pepto-Bismol and a handful of princesses had a vomiting contest.”
Jae scrunched his nose. “Lovely, Ang, lovely.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “What can I say? Luckily I spent most of my time outside in the trees and forest-y areas near here. It was--nicer. You know, curled up in some v-shaped sitting place in a tree, reading an old paperback.”
“You feeling some nostalgia?” he asked.
“Not really,” she muttered. “Not about here, anyway.”
“Hey!” Analise’s voice came from right behind her. It really shouldn’t surprise her as it did, but having things with sharp teeth and claws popping out at you all the time really made your nerves raw. “So, I brought you some new pillows.”
“Thank you,” Jae said graciously, stepping behind her to take the four pillows Analise held. Angela raised an eyebrow.
“There’s already four on the bed.”
“Yeah, I know, but some people have like acid reflux and stuff and--”
“Thanks. You mind if we settle in?” Jae asked.
“Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll just, you know, go. See you at lunch.” And with that, Analise closed the door. Jae dropped his suitcase and stretched. “Finally.”
“What?”
“I need my quiet time.”
She tried to hold back a small chuckle but couldn’t manage. “Quiet time?”
“Yeah, away from all those loud noises and people I don’t like talking to me.”
“You don’t like Analise?”
“Okay, that came out badly,” Jae looked awkward, shifting from foot to foot. “I just--I don’t know if I can trust any of them and it makes me nervous?”
Angela nodded. “I don’t blame you.” She tried out a small smile, to put him at ease. She didn’t want him completely stressed out. That did a number on any person who probably would have something with claws and teeth launching at them in the next week--monsters hunts always went sour somehow. “Anyway, I’m wondering, but do you think I missed out on some pillow-hoarding obsession? Because really--first the couch, now this--”
Jae snorted. “Whatever. Now, where should I put our top secret papers?”
“Just keep them in your bag, I guess. We’ll have to work out of coffee shops or something, I suppose.”
“I’ll go looking for a good library. We can always claim to be working on some paper, or something,” Jae suggested, even as he started lining up the four pillows in a line in the middle of the bed.
Angela figured what he was doing and could only give a smirk of a smile. “Sure. That’d be good. One question--don’t you think people would find it odd if they came in to find a pillow line down the bed?”
Jae huffed. “You ever watched Pleasantville? People actually used to sleep in separate beds all the time. Some still do. It’s nothing, really. And if it comes up I can just say you go starfish on me and I don’t like nearly being suffocated in my sleep.”
“Whatever. Works for me.”
Jae raised an eyebrow. “I have a few questions, though.”
Angela let herself fall back into the wicker chair in the corner, it repainted blue with a gray seat. “Mm?”
“Do you snore, steal covers, or kickbox in your sleep? I might need to get earplugs, you know, and I figure when we go find a library after this lunch affair shiz--don’t argue, we’re doing it--I can pick some up.”
Angela snorted, even as she leaned back into the sunlight casting in through the window. “No, no, and no, idiot. Just had night terrors as a kid, but they’re gone now.”
Jae automatically looked concerned--then suspicious. “Did you do an EMF reading of the room? Check for demonic signs around that time?”
“Yes and no. Also, nothing came up. I was just a scared little kid.”
He let out a huffy noise. “Don’t believe in coincidence.”
“Better believe it, kid,” she said. “Now let’s go eat. I’m starved, man.”
He squinted. “You sound like a pot head.”
At least I don’t generally look like one.
“Thanks. Try to not insult me in front of the fam’, eh?”
“Can I insult other people?”
“No.”
“May I insult you now to get it out of my system?”
She scowled. “What is it you want to say?”
“Wearing a black dress and black trench makes you look like a Goth flasher. Also, that expression? You’d make an excellent Wednesday with it.”
There are female flashers? She put aside the thought. I’ll have to research it later.
“Can’t be worse than the fact you actually remember the names of Munster characters.”
“Since you know who Wednesday is, too, that means you do as well. Not a good defense, Angelica.”
She rolled her eyes and then stood up. “I’m going to leave you to unpack and go eat all the potential carrot souffle and potato salad now before you can get at it.”
“Hey!”
She laughed at his mock hurt expression and slipped out of her old bedroom, right out into the hall. She paused when she saw the photos across on the other wall--something she hadn’t noticed. Her and Analise playing near an old, split live oak--one of her reading spots. A dark smudge flashed across one photo.
She wiped it off and looked at her finger, unable to decide what it was. It looked like wet asphalt. She frowned, deciding to wash her hands.
Keep writing!
