A Howl In The Night by Lorelei Sutton (life books to read .txt) 📕

Suddenly we halt, and I find myself in the middle of a vast clearing in the forest. I soon recognize it to be the backyard at the mansion, one so large that it would easily swallow five football fields. The rich, enhanced air of the garden wafts to our nostrils, the sky clear and blue. I twist my head to look up at it, up at the sparse birds fluttering through the horizon like little, lost children.

But then, to contrast with the innocence, fiery hell was peering with eyes of red into my soul. This time the possessed one is a woman, beautiful and elegant with ebony hair and creamy white skin. However, she is writhing about in agony, and my heart suddenly aches for her. Just a few days before, I would have been jealous of her for being so beautiful. Now I know what a curse it can be.

Cuts stretch across her arms like veins, dark red blood oozing forth like lava from the depths of the earth. Both of them are being held down by Ray and Yi, her long nails scratching at their skin. It is quite strange to see, their arm constantly drawing forth blood then retreating as the wounds heal almost as quickly as they appear. But the pain is still there... every time she pierces their flesh, a wince comes forth on the corner of their lips. A smile stretches across her flushed cheeks, one corrupted by malice and mischief. Such a pretty monster.

I walk up to her, bending to look at her eyes closely. There is even more redness than the other boy I healed, so red that I am convinced she had been possessed for a very long time. "She was a bad one?" I ask them wonderingly.

"Terrible," Wes groans, "She had already killed thirty people by the time we even reached her."

"It might be better just to kill her," Ray says softly, "she's wanted everywhere. She will probably be on death row in a couple weeks."

Anger builds up in me, combined with horror and pure disgust. "It's not HER," I say sharply, "it is the Shifter inside her. Why should we kill her for something that isn't her fault?"

I lean over her, watching her form in the green grass. My finger trembles slightly as I place it on her forehead, shaking even more as I am immediately enveloped in voices. These voices are very weak and the boom of the overwhelming drum is drowning out everything. I can't even hear her voice, only sense her tiny protest as it drowns in the depths of torture.

How can I help her, who is so lost?

Suddenly I feel a terrible pain in my hand, and I jerk it away. Red smears across the tip, a throb in my index finger growing. I gasp as I realize she had bitten me, a bit of her blood on the end of her tooth. She is staring at me with real hate, a cackle emitting from her lips. Quickly I wipe my hand on my shirt and with a newfound determination, plop my entire hand on her forehead. I will not lose to this.

I search for the presence, amplifying her with all my might. All my strength, all my hope is poured into her, trying to help the one oppressed. Funny how the one hateful action fuels my drive towards the Shifter's demise.

A pair of hands seize me right before I fall into the darkness, no energy left. The draining of my force ceases, and I land into a warm embrace. Almost immediately the energy returns, fulfilled as peace comes. Quickly my eyes fly open, and I find myself to be near Wes, his eyes of concern. "You did it again," he smiles weakly, "she is saved."

I cannot move, for if I do, I will faint. Everything right now seems so dark, so weary. I hate this feeling I have right after helping the monsters, the feeling of complete and total helplessness. I always, at times like this, see my father with his eyes of red stare into my soul, cackling as he stabs a knife into my heart.

Reality dances a little further, a hairsbreadth away from my grasp. Everything becomes woozy, and I become aware that this is the end. Sleep has come to take me, and the death is on its heels. My father is chuckling as the blood seeps from my wound. This is what I get for trying to fight against the Shifters. I am too weak...

Maybe it would be best to close my eyes for a while.

***

"Mona," a voice whispers, on the edge of my almost nonexistent thoughts. I am floating, suspended in time. For now, I am dead. Dead to my hopes, dead to my troubles, dead to reality.

A hand shakes my arm. "Please wake up, Mona." The voice serves as a fishing rod, reeling me to surface no matter how much I want to lay beneath the murky waters. I cough and sputter, unwilling to revive myself. Being dead is so peaceful.

"W-what?" I groan, my eyes cracking open. The first thing I see is a clear, white ceiling. Then, there is a face. "Jake?" I wonder, spotting the crystal hair and the light skin.

"Yep, that's me," he grins with a vibrant smile someone could only describe as perfect.

No one else is around me, only the soft breeze and velvet covers. I peer up at his face as he continues to talk, obviously unwilling to surrender me to the void once more. "Xavier was here, but he had to go to his room to get ready for something about thirty minutes ago," he chatters, "we are all sort of used to you fainting by now. This one was pretty bad, about three hours. It is almost six o' clock already."

"Three hours?" I shake myself free of the suffocating chains, "usually it is around thirty minutes!" She must have sucked every ounce of energy I had. Anger flashes through my head at the thought that the beautiful woman took three hours of my life. Not that it matters anyway. I'm... immortal now, I suppose.

It is rather hard to believe, that I will be stuck with them forever. At first it sounded appealing, but now the thought of not living out the rest of my life seems dull and boring. It is as if we took a video tape, pressed pause on a certain scene, and threw away the remote. I never should have agreed... and I wouldn't have if not for my parents. But now it doesn't matter so much. It isn't like banishing these Shifters are helping my parents come back to life. However, it gives me a good feeling, as if my life is actually worth something. Although what I am now living isn't true life.

"Wes is taking her to a nearby airport to send her to Europe. Apparently she knows some French, and we found a passport in her wallet. Anywhere right now is better than America," he smiles slightly.

"Did she remember what she had done?" I question. He shakes his head.

"When the Shifter left, so did her memory. Just like the last few."

A sad, defeated feeling enters my chest. Shifters are so mean... just waltzing in and ruining people's lives for fun. Look at how they ruined me. I am who I am because of them.

Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?

I sit up, watching Jake stare out the window. He is alight with wonder, seeing the leaves shake off the trees and dance in the nighttime wind. They are swirling, twisting and diving, dipping and weaving, waltzing in the sky. I turn to look at them also, my small, red lips parting in a smile. The sun is hanging just over the ground, so close that they are barely an inch apart. The orange and purple are just beginning to spread across the horizon, and the garden flowers are shining like jewels in the light.

Then, I turn and peer at my own skin in its radiant beauty, creamy skin without a flaw. My hands are slender and smooth, along with my feet. I slide off the bed, walking to a mirror. For a minute, I watch my body in all its elegance, its perfection.

I hate this body, for it has brought me much sorrow. Beauty has a terrible, terrible price.

"Mona, are you okay?" Jake comes to stand beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. He must have spied the small, almost invisible tear brimming in my eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," I bluff, slowly pushing him away, "never been better."

"That's a lie," he says softly. There is a pause while I just stare at myself. Trying to believe the person in the mirror is truly me. After a few more seconds, Jake can't take it. "Go talk to Xavier about it," he points towards the doorway.

Maybe that would be best. After a moment of contemplating, I edge out of the room, heading towards Xavier's chamber slowly. My vision is still shaking, wobbly as I stumble over to the door. I think back to the school, when Xavier was talking to Sidney. Jealousy strikes like lightning, and I quickly shake my head. I don't want to remember. I don't want that green envy to blossom within me until there is no containing it.

I knock on the door, feeling the carpet beneath my feet crinkle slightly.

"Who's there?" Xavier opens the door slowly, looking out at me. Immediately his icy cold green eyes scan me, as if I am only a parcel. He seems tired, his handsomeness rugged. Slight circles are beneath his eyes, and he is wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I detect strong cologne that nearly makes my eyes water, mixed with that attractive scent that is on him naturally.

"What's with that cologne?" I walk into the room, trying to find the bottle it came from, "it is so strong!" Not that it doesn't smell good, but its presence is suffocating.

Xavier chuckles, immediately spiking my interest. "We both have strong senses of smell," he smiles, "but regular people don't."

He feels so cold to me right now. Why is that?

"But there are no regular people here," I point out the obvious, "only werewolves and... me."

 There is a brief silence as Xavier checks his watch. "Oops, got to go," he says, "I’m going to be late." He shoots me a brief smile, and before I can protest, lands a kiss on my forehead. Then he starts walking out of the room, inciting my anger.

"Where are you going?!" I yell after him, but no response follows. Running into the hallway, I race to the garage. He is sliding into a car, the Mercedes that is used to impress people. Why is he driving? And why not one of the cheaper cars?

Is he going back to that stupid club he said he would stop visiting?

I jog to the front door, and zip into the wild underbrush. Tailing the car, I follow it perfectly. Yi has been teaching me stealth techniques, and I have gotten pretty good at it. My heartbeat pounds furiously in my chest. Why can't Xavier tell me what he is doing?

I begin to question my own actions. Why am I acting like the jealous girlfriend? Not that I am his girlfriend. Not at all.

I wonder briefly why I am such a good liar to myself.

The forest ends, and the houses begin. I find it a little trickier to maneuver through the scenery and behind the car. The car is easier to spot than most, with it being a strikingly red color. However, it must be incredibly easy for