Derik's Bane

"Excellent, Mr. Bond."



"Anyway,most of the Pack doesn't know what I'm up to. Just the East Coasters. So it's no big deal to show up on someone's doorstep and crash for the night. But to do that, and be in a situation where I'd have to borrow a car, and have you in. tow . . . that might get back to the wrong set of ears."



"So, what?"



"So, we need a car. We'll drive for a while, then crash."



Til tell you right now," Sara declared, "no more convertibles!"



"Aw, how come?" he whined. "How can you not like the wind in your face?"



She pointed to her head, which, thanks to mussed curls, was almost twice as large as usual. "Forget it, Derik. For-get-it."



"Aw, you look cute."



"And you're deranged, but we established that a couple hours earlier. No convertibles." "Well, I'm not driving a zillion miles—" "Three thousand, five hundred," she said dryly.



"—locked up in a steel box, I can tell you that right now, Sare-Bear!"



"Ew, don't call me that. Sare-Bear? Ugh." " 'Cuz you look like a cute little bear with your hair all over the—"



"Stop talking. What? You're claustrophobic?" "No. I just don't like being shut up in a steel box for hours and hours a day." "So, youare claustrophobic." "No, it's just. . . that fake carpet... the .upholstery ..." He shuddered. "It reeks, man. It totally reeks."



"You know what we need?" "For you not to destroy the world?" "Besides that. We need a truck. A nice big truck with four-wheel drive and a supercab." "What's a supercab?"



"It's a truck that seats two or three people in the front seat and a couple in the backseat. There's plenty of space to store our stuff, and if you start feeling like the upholstery is closing in on you, you can ride in the back while I drive. Your hair mussed in the breeze, your ears flopping behind you .. . it'll be great."



"Can you destroy the world right now?" he asked. "Because if I gotta put up with one more dog joke..."



"And if we don't get a motel room or don't want to stop for long, we can spread some sleeping bags out in the back and sack out there. We'd have to stop and use some of this cash to buy camping equipment, but that'd be easy enough."



He frowned at her. He blinked at her. At last he said, "That's kind of brilliant."



"Well," she said modestly, "Iam a doctor."



"Okay, so. We try to steal a truck."



"And what are we going to do when we catch up with Arthur's Chosen?"



"Let's get there first," he said grimly, and she had no reply to that.



14



"This is insane," she commented.



"It is not. Now try to look like we're not stealing a car."



"But weare stealing a car."



"Will you cut that out? Look casual. Lean on the door."



"The one you're trying to open?"



Derik resisted the urge to strangle Sara. This was an interesting improvement over resisting the urge to kiss her. You'd think, since he'd saved her life—well, sort of, in that he hadn't tried to kill her again—and because he was helping her hunt down Arthur's Big Fat Losers, that she'd be a little grateful. Or at least nicer. But nooo. It was blah-blah-blah and bitch-bitch-bitch. Like she could do any better than a full-grown werewolf! Okay, well, maybe she could. But that was irrelevant. Wasn't it?



"It's just that this is an extremely insane idea," she was explaining, like he'd gone retarded.



He grabbed the door handle again and tried to smell her hair without her catching on. Roses and cotton—yum! And how cute did she look in the convertible with those red curls flying all over the place? Her nose was sunburned now, and he even liked the shade of pink.



She turned to give him a suspicious look, and he held his breath in mid-sniff. Then, to distract her, he said, "Show me another place that has all the cars lined up, with their keys in the ignition." He spread his arms to indicate the Enterprise Car Rental lot. "Huh? Show me. That's all I ask."



"Showme another place that hasless paperwork on any one of these cars. You don't think they do a head count or whatever—a grille count—before the last guy goes home for the day? They'll know it's gone in a cold minute."



"So we find another car rental place," he said, "and steal from there."



"Help you folks?"



They both spun, Derik swearing under his breath. Sure, the guy had snuck up on him from upwind, and sure, Sara was sort of distracting— she kind of jammed his radar, so to speak—but that was no excuse. No fucking excuse!



"We were just looking," Sara explained, after clearing her throat and trying a smile.



The fella who'd hailed them looked more nervous than they did—and more angry than Derik felt. His gray suit was rumpled, and his tie was flying over his shoulder in the breeze. His brown hair was wisping about, and his watery blue eyes were alternately starey and darting. Derik started to grab Sara's shoulder to pull her behind him when he got a whiff of burning silk— the smell of desperation.



"Uh-oh," he muttered.



"You folks need a car? I'll tell you what. You can have that truck right over there." He pointed to a shiny, brand-new, red pickup truck, complete with supercab and about fourteen antennas.



They looked at the truck, glowing at them almost like a mirage, or the Holy Grail—Derik expected to hear a choir of angels humming—then looked at the sales guy.



"I've had it with this place," he muttered. "PromoteJim Danielson over me? The guy comes in an hour late every day and leaves an hour early. And don't get me started on his lunch breaks. They're more like miniature leaves of absence. The guy's fucking the manager's daughter sohe gets the promotion?Him ?"



"We, uh, don't want you to get in any trouble," Sara said.



"And we don't want you to get any closer," Derik warned.



"No, look, it's okay, see?" The frustrated Enterprise employee grinned, which looked fairly ghastly. "You guys know how to drive a standard transmission, right?"



"Driving a stick is sonot the big problem in this scenario," Derik said.



"Shhh!" Sara's elbow jabbed him in the side. "Let him finish."



"It's no problem. I'll just fix it in the computer. Nobody will even know about it. Go on, take it. You can help me stick it to my boss." He stared off at the horizon for a moment, looking haunted. "I just—not today. I put up with it, and I put up with it, but for some reason, today I just—I.can't do it. Not one more day. So go on."



"Stop looking so damn smug," Derik told Sara later, as they were leaving California behind.



"Can't help it," she replied.



"So, what are the chances of that happening?"



"About one in a zillion."



"That's what I thought. Nice truck, though."



"Greattruck."



"You're looking smug again."



"Sorry."



15



"OKAYYY.. .we've got sleeping bags, a cooler, water, backpacks, flashlights, toilet paper, Purell, a first aid kit, dehydrated snacks, a couple of sharp knives, eating utensils, plates, cups, a grill, a frying pan, and a pot. Let's see, what am I forgetting?"



"The fact that I'm a werewolf," Derik muttered, so as not to be overheard.



"Oh, yeah. That. I didn't forget it, I'm just totally discounting it."



"Nice!"



"Quit it, now, you're making me lose track." She squinted at her list, pretending Derik wasn't heaving with indignation less than six inches away. Like Wal-Mart wasn't distracting enough . . . the camping section was bigger than Yosemite.



"Okay, so, we can hit the grocery story for hot dogs, bacon, bread, and—"



"Sara, we don't need all this junk." He fingered the sleeping bag and practically sniffed in disgust. "First off, we have a limited amount of money, so I'll tell you what you don't have to waste the bucks on."



"Oh, would you? That would be swell." She rolled her eyes.



"I can see in the dark, so don't bother with the flashlights. I sure as shit don't need the Band-Aids in the first aid kit. And I'd rather eat my own shit than touch one of those dehydrated beef stews."



"You're so gross," she told him. "And you're forgetting about me. I can neither see in the dark, nor bring my bleating prey down by the neck at a dead run. And I like to be warm at night."



"Why don't you leave that to me?" he leered.



"Why don't you go fuck yourself?"



He deflated. "Aw, c'mon, Sara, it's my job to look out for you. You don't need all this junk."



"Mmmm." She crossed a few more items off the list. "Look, I appreciate that you've aborted the whole 'Kill Sara' plan, I really do. But if I'm going to travel across the country with a homicidal stranger—that's right, I said homicidal, don't puff up like a cobra and glare—then I'm going to take care of myself. Just like I've been doing all along. If you don't mind."And even if you do, Studboy.



"That was a good speech," he said admiringly.



"Oh, shut up. And grab that bug spray, will you?"



"Ech! You're not going to actually spray thaton you, are you?"



"No, I'm going to use it to sweeten my coffee. Just grab it," she said, already exhausted. Long day. Long fucking day, and that was a fact.



"You need salt crystals and fresh ground pepper? And vanilla sticks?" Derik cried. "I thought we were roughing it!"



"We are, but there are some things I refuse to give up. I think I've been a pretty good sport up 'til now, don't you? I mean, you turned my whole life upside down, but I'm playing along. Look, think of it as bringing a little taste of home along with us on the road."