missing—”
He waved a dismissive hand.
“No. I mean friends. Family. Kin .” He was watching her again, giving
her the feel she was blessed with the full attention of a wary predator. Yep. Definitely a serial killer.
“I have tons of friends and
family,” Blaze lied, “And they’re all scheduled to show up next week.”
He eyed her a moment. “You’re alone.”
Stated like that, so blatantly,
Blaze felt her prepared lies shrivel up and die. She turned her head and
scrutinized the wood stove, trying to hold back tears. Crying, she had learned long ago, only made things worse.
Jack sat down, just out of
kicking range, and drew his knees up. Throwing his bulky arms across his
knees, he leaned his chin on his forearms and studied her. For long moments,
neither of them spoke.
Blaze eventually began to get
creeped out by the stalker-like stare he was giving her, and to hide her
bone-crunching terror, snarled, “What are you looking at?”
Jack flinched. Then, softly, he
said, “You ain’t got no family? Nobody who knows you’re up here?”
“Just kill me already,” Blaze
muttered to the stove.
Just at the edge of her vision,
Jack seemed to flinch. “Now hold on a second, love. Nobody’s gonna go killin’
nobody. I’m just trying to figure out…” He hesitated. “Well, I’m just trying
to figure out what’s going on, is all.”
Blaze’s jaw dropped open and she
turned to frown at him. “ You’re trying to figure out what’s going on?”
“Uh, yeah,” Jack said. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
She stared at him until he
started to fidget with a hole in his jeans. Finally, she found the ability to
say, “I’m trying to start a fishing lodge. Something you obviously took
offense to.” She looked him up and down, trying to decide if she could
convince him to let her call Lance and fly back to town. She decided probably
not. He may look rugged and dirt-poor, but his eyes didn’t hold that dullness
of an idiot.
“Look,” she managed, “I really
think we can work this out. I won’t press charges, I swear. Just let me go, please .”
Jack blinked at her, his green
eyes startled. “You really have no idea what’s going on here, do you?”
“You’re on some pretty wicked
drugs,” Blaze said.
Jack raised an eyebrow at her.
He winced, then swallowed, glancing again at the floor. Then, clearing his
throat, he looked back up at her and said, “Okay, how about we try this another
way. You saw what happened a few minutes ago.” He gestured at the shattered
door, the gaping hole in the drywall. “Just what do you think you’re dealing
with, here?” He sounded, for all the world, like a friend engaging in a
pleasant debate with her.
“Cocaine, most like,” Blaze
said. “Though I never heard of it making your eyes go funky, so I’m thinking
probably a combo drug.”
Jack scratched the back of his
neck again, sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Shit.”
Blaze laughed. “What, I pegged
you?”
“No,” he muttered, “I just made a
total ass out of myself.”
“Was it the crack or the LSD?”
Blaze asked sweetly.
“Honey,” Jack growled, “I’m a
wereverine.”
Blaze’s confusion must have
shown, because he quickly added, “A wereverine that’s managed to keep his head
low for a century and a half, and then this happens.” He gave her a
worried frown. “I dunno why, but you just set off about every alarm trigger
I’ve got, and my instincts are pretty damn good.”
“Alarm trigger?” Blaze asked. “I
didn’t think this place had an alarm system.”
He slapped his forehead into a
hand, dragged his fingers down his face. Then, peering at her through his
fingers, he said, “I’m not human. Do you need another demonstration?”
Blaze remembered the wet fangs as
his tongue had slid across her throat and she laughed nervously. “No thanks.”
Whatever he
Learning to Kill: Stories