Kierra

We get back to the house pretty quickly, with weather and the late hour, there aren't too many out and about on the streets between my home and Ava's. Which is good since most of the people around here get real stupid when driving in snow. My house is tucked away in a large patch of woods that border the back of Machesney Park mall, around a mile from its parking lot to my front door. Mall itself is closed down, but to either end, it has a Spergmen’s and a J.P. Lenny with a Farmington Coats recently opened in the middle. It was in that parking lot that this all began.

My house and two others were set within the wooded area; one had been Asher's that had burned down twenty-five years ago, the other had belonged to an older couple. Or at least, they appeared as if they were an older couple. When I had gone to talk to them the place looked like it had been deserted for years, the only signs left being a dead cat and a cellar of horrors. It’d looked to be a cross between a butcher shop and a torture chamber, and since the doors had been sealed, all the smells had been trapped and building, a couple buckets of blood were still a liquid instead of a coagulated gel. A Vampire friend had a cleanup crew come and clean it all out, but I still catch that smell in my nightmares.

So now it's just my little ranch-cabin with assorted animals living in and around it.

Faline and Xavier both help me get all the clothes inside. They'd bettered anyway since some of it's theirs. When the maned wolf came to me he didn't have much, only what would fit in a duffle bag. Told me he had been hiring himself out as a mercenary and that's how Nicolaus, the leech who took my sister and sent him to kill me, found him. Being a loner, he moved around a lot so only kept very little with him.

After Maii had come, I went shopping for both of them, which doubled the laundry load. Was already pretty large since all the bedding in the basement had been taken and washed as well. All the bleeding I'd done on the blankets was getting a bit musty. Can just imagine the lint and hairballs that were found in the dryer afterward.

"Alright, when he gets here, can you get his number and write it down for me before you leave?"

Faline nods while gathering a few things to take with her. Looking from her to it, I go to my room for a moment before coming back out with one of my switchblades. Knowing she'll fuss if I give it to her directly, I slip it in the bag when she's grabbing a couple of her longer skirts. Raising an eyebrow at her, she explains.

"If I need to shift in a hurry, getting tangled in clothes costs too much time. Skirts are easy as they just slip right off."

Huh. Guess that does make sense. Ignoring her protests when I give her a hard hug, a kiss gets planted on her forehead before I turn and leave. If I stay any longer, I'll try to keep her from going, and I promised I'd let her go.

Xavier gives her a salute and Tigger gets a pat to his head. Ever since that man used my cat to keep his nude junk covered, the fat little bugger an he seem to have become best buds. Quite disturbing really. I've even caught the orange and white tabby curling up to him while in animal form.

Little traitor.

"I think you've stolen my cat from me."

He just grins at me as we pull out to the street from my long driveway. That charming, flirty grin that gets him in trouble whenever around other females. Shit. Taking him into a bar may not be the best idea.

"Uh, if you pick up anyone, you go to their house, not mine."

A hand goes over his eyes as he starts laughing, but I'm highly serious. He once called it "Animal Magnetism". His sex appeal being very high, I get glared at by other females and even some males when seen just walking with him.

Personally, I think it may be something extra for him, like a subconscious thing even though he does flirt. From what I've observed, all supernaturals have a magnetism to them, whether from their animal or what I'm not sure, but he has more. I'm just guessing though, I could be way off. I'll just have to be more observant.

Hell, with all this new shit beating at my brain I'm gonna have to start writing it all down and hang it on the wall at home. Right next to the paintings I do that look like some hardcore angsty teens wet-dream. And let's not forget the Werewolf pelt I was recently mailed.

It's in a box in my room right now, can't make up my mind if I want to hang it or not. Would it be considered morbid even if it was someone who harmed you? When I got it, every animal in my house at the time had looked at me like I had done it.

All but Asher that is, since he was there for part of the confrontation with the second one who had been sent to kill me. It was that cream-colored wolf that has put a black mark over all the wolves I come across. He was also very large, the Were skin goes from his nose all the way to tail tip and ankle and is at least eight feet long. Haven't taken the time to measure since just seeing it sends mixed emotions through me, none being good. Once the males around me were told it was the skin of the one who raped me, they all looked ashamed for having blamed me. I may be fucked up, but I don't think I'm that bad.

Don't even know who did it. It was found in my jeep and didn't have any residual scent on or around to even ascertain species. Do I owe them an IOU or a thank you?

When I reach Downtown Rockford, I have to keep an eye on my speed. The new steel-toed boots have a weight to them that I don't account for when pedal-hopping. Wasn't my original idea to get them, but I had already lost three pairs of knee highs that aren't sold at my local shopping center.

Shifting is really hard on clothes. Not so bad for the Weres doing a partial shift, depending on what they change, but animal or Were form tears them up. One pair had been lost in the house fire I had started to cover evidence of my being there and another at the bordello when I shifted while fighting another Werewolf.

I prefer the partial shift, less material damage done, and quicker than a full change, predominantly going for reinforcing my hands for the claws and adding more muscle for more oomph. Can't punch with claws, but you can slash, and it's just as effective.

I hate Downtown.

It's not as dangerous to me now as when I was human, but I still don't care for it. Lots of dangerous people dwell in and around it just waiting for someone to victimize. Doesn't stop people from going though; too many bars, stores, restaurants, businesses, and clubs to keep any away for long.

Last time I was down here is when I found the bar full of wolves by complete accident, then had to call all sorts of attention to myself when having to beat off a couple drunks looking for a good time and not understanding the meaning of fuck off. That's apparently my idea of undercover work. Not very subtle, am I?

Since there's no event going on at the Metro Centre this time, parking is less hostile but still ridiculous to find. Instead of spending time looking for a spot or messing with the several parking garages, I park in the same spot I did last time; down by the library.

Of course, the last time being parked right here had some punk kid trying to steal my jeep and making a mess of the paint job. I think Xavier and I succeeded in putting the fear of monsters into him though; teenager had pissed himself.

The last time I made the maned wolf keep his gun in the glove box, this time it got left at home since being in the car clearly isn't a good idea either. He's the only supernatural I've met so far that actually has one, probably a habit from his soldier days. Always has at least one knife on him as well, when not at home obviously.

When I'd grabbed the blade for my sister, I grabbed another that clips onto my waistband, the same one I had last time coming down here. I'm not as good as Xavier is with a blade, but I'm close. Werewolf speed added to my own has me very fast with it, just have to make sure no cops see me with it since it exceeds the length restrictions. Think they're just pissy that my knives are bigger than their...brains. Ahem.

"Ready for this, Studmuffin?"

The cocky grin he passes my way as we get out of my jeep is my answer.

"First chick to glare at me because of you is going to have me drawing on your face."

"With what? Their drool?"

Well, now there's a possibility, but I'll pass. Pulling the pen from an inner pocket, I flash him a grin. Artists and writers never go anywhere without something to note with, even though many are lax on actually writing anything down.

Least I am anyway. I'll think of something awesome, know I'll remember it so I don't write it down, then forget about it an hour later, if it even takes that long. Narrowing my eyes at him, I think my idea over.

"That might not work as it will only draw more attention. Hmm. Think I need to start stashing paper bags in the car, those should work. Might draw attention, but they won't be able to see those dimples of yours."

Granted it isn't the dimples that draw the eye, they only get added onto his features when he smiles as wide as he's doing now. No, what draws the eyes to this man are his many other attributes. His height being the main one since he stands at six-foot-seven inches. I measured.

Long and lean, if you don't see the defined muscle you'd say lanky, but he's very sinewy. Having seen him completely bare, I have firsthand knowledge of his...perks. Another eye-catcher would be his very long black hair.

Around his head it's somewhat short, shaggy, and thick, but the back is long, thinning while going all the way to his tight, muscular rear. Completely straight, no wave whatsoever. Bright, amber-colored eyes, chiseled jaw like that of a young Guy Pearce, and a smallish triangular goatee at his chin. Even in his animal form, he has a longer tuft of black fur under his chin.

One thing that would really drive other males and females into a craze is the 8-pack hidden beneath his clothes. It's just good to keep him covered all the way around and try to keep the pheromones in check.

The streets down here have been plowed, sidewalks are even shoveled. He and I both are in leather coats, however where mine is a black trench, his is a black biker. When we first met the coat was the only thing he'd been wearing on his upper body. Should probably get him another, something longer, but he hasn't said anything.

Not even Thanksgiving yet but there are Christmas decorations popping up everywhere. Hate when people do that. Call it a pet peeve. I have many.