Chapter Twenty-Three
Sonya
The quick, aggressive stride he took to the police station almost made me feel sorry for the officer who would have to take his statement. Part of me wanted to follow him while another cringed at the thought of walking through those doors. Memories of seeing my dad in a sterile visiting room with tables and attached stools that were bolted to the concrete floor quickly made me look away. Even if I were being chased I wasn’t sure I could go in there. It wasn’t the same as a prison, I knew, but it was associated closely enough to bring panic to the surface.
More to look away from the station than out of any real suspicion, I checked the parking lot and the street behind me. Nothing, not even traffic. It hit me that someone might not approach by car, but by foot. Birds sang from within the trees that lined the sidewalk and framed a green space that went around the side of the building. I gravitated toward it to get away from some of the city smells. Sunlight found its way through the yellow and green leaves of the many trees to dapple the sidewalk. As soon as I could, I stepped from the concrete onto the soft cushion of shortly trimmed green grass. The energy of living things worked like an instant balm on my nerves. While the feeling was still a little weird, I would take what I could get right now.
The sidewalk kept going, turning into a wider pathway that cut between the greenspace on the side of the police station and a grouping of buildings. From one of those buildings wafted the aroma of baking dough, cheese, and spices. It didn’t quite drown out the asphalt and exhaust scents, but it helped. The cut grass beneath my feet and swaying leaves overhead helped far more. I leaned against the trunk of a small maple to wait. More to keep Ty’s scent close than out of any need to block out the breeze, I pulled his brown flannel close, burying my nose in the collar.
Minutes ticked by and though a bit of traffic moved along the road, no one pulled in to either the police station or the brick buildings next door. Something unsettling stirred deep in my stomach, awakening both urgency and what I could only associate with a motherly type of instinct. One of my own was close, someone newly bitten. The certainty with which I knew that bugged me. I raised my nose into the breeze and breathed deep. A very slight musk mingled with an aloe-scented soap drifted to me. Along with it came a sniffling sound from around the corner. On a picnic table beneath two pine trees hunched a figure in a gray hoodie. From this distance I couldn’t make out any more. But I knew all I needed to know. They were a new varúlfur and they might need help. I had to do what I could, however little it might be.
Maybe Candice had run away from Hemlock Hollow. I think she would have called me, but I couldn’t be sure. If it was Candice, I had to talk to her. The full moon was tomorrow and my instincts told me she shouldn’t face it alone. Hell, even if it wasn’t her, I had to talk to this person. I glanced back at the police station. This constituted as smelling someone strange, but not someone Ty had been worried about. The instinct deep inside pulled harder at me until I finally took a step in the person’s direction. With a great amount of effort, I stilled my feet and concentrated on the reason for the instinct. Letting instincts of any kind control me weren’t an option anymore.
Sympathy weighed heavy in me, along with a desire to make sure no one went through the verða alone, or with someone who had forced it on them. All in all, the reasons behind the instinct didn’t seem like anything bad, certainly not anything to fight against. As a precaution, I checked the air once more. When I didn’t smell anyone else besides the person on the bench, I started in their direction. They didn’t look up until I was almost next to the bench.
The wide, bloodshot eyes of a young man who couldn’t have been more than twenty shot up to me. Shine that was part tears and part predator in transition made his green eyes almost translucent looking. Not Candice, then, but still someone who needed me.
Trying to look friendly, I smiled. “You look like you could use someone to talk to.”
His eyes traveled across my body, halting at my cleavage. I didn’t take it personally. The guy was barely out of his teens, and he had to deal with raging varúlfur emotions on top of that.
“Do I?” he asked, a note of humor in a voice that was thick from crying.
“Mind if I sit?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Be my guest.”
Giving him as much space as possible, I sat down on the far end of the wooden bench. I decided to go with the direct approach. “You’ve been bitten.”
He sat up straight and pushed his hoodie back. Spiky black hair tipped in bright red held my gaze for a moment until I noticed the jagged pink scar on his neck. Whoever had bit him had been almost cruel, like it was an act of anger and not a decision to make a new varúlfur.
“How did you know?” he asked as he leaned away from me a bit.
Best to take it slow considering his darting eyes and shaking limbs. “Because it happened to me too.”
Brows pulling tightly together, his eyes filled with moisture. “You seem nice. I didn’t want to do this.”
He shook his head then buried it in his hands. Horrible deep sobs tore from him, turning into thick, messy crying. I put an arm around his shoulders.
“It isn’t as bad as you might think. There are people who will help you through the transition. Everything will be okay,” I told him.
The sobs became louder, as if my words had made him feel worse. Something settled over my mouth, a cloth of some kind. For a second I smelled an odd mixture of sweet and fruity, then the fruity part of that scent began to burn. The young man beside me scurried to his feet and moved away. If it wasn’t him, then who held a cloth to my mouth? I tried to pull away and found myself against something solid, a hand pressing the cloth tighter over my mouth and nose. Attached to that hand was the muscled arm of a man spattered with dark hairs. The harder I fought, the more I breathed in the toxic, burning scents of the wet cloth. My muscles responded slowly to my commands to fight, my strength ebbing away with each breath. My claws extended but a second after they sank into the arm of the person holding me, my vision went black.