Gena Showalter - Unraveled

Mary Ann gulped as realization set in. Even before saving her from the death spell, he wanted her to know how to defend herself against wolves and vamps. Which meant he thought they would figure out she was a Drainer very soon. Which meant he thought they would try to kill her. Painfully. He wanted her prepared, able to defend herself.

Would they later punish him for that?

A tremor swept through her, and those tears she’d fought against burned her eyes. She’d made the right decision, ending things. She would not hurt him. Ever. Even accidentally. Even after she…died.

Look what he’d done—was doing—to protect her right now. He deserved better than she could give him.

“Fine.” Maxwell sighed.

“Sure. Why not?” Nathan shrugged.

Such enthusiasm. Didn’t matter, though. She would listen and she would learn. She would never have another chance like this one.

“You’re—you’re not going to help them?” she asked Riley, blushing at her stutter.

His gaze didn’t flick to her, but remained on his brothers as he gave a stiff shake of his head. She remembered what she’d once told him, that if he taught her how to fight, he’d have to put his hands on her, and if he put his hands on her, she would want to kiss him, not learn from him. Did he remember? Did he not want her lips on his?

Oh, God. She wanted him to want her, wanted to keep him. Don’t you dare cry .

How many times would she have to issue the command to herself?

“Do it,” he said, backing away from the group. He stopped at a tree, pressing his back into the wide trunk, and folded his arms over his middle. His expression was dark, stormy.

“Do not interfere,” Maxwell told him with a finger pointed at his chest.

Nathan snorted. “Like he’ll obey you. He always does what he wants. You know that.”

She nodded in agreement, and both brothers focused on her. Uh-oh. All that intensity…closing in on her, one in front and one behind. Why had she agreed to this, again?

“You ready, little girl?”

“You gonna sob like a baby if we get a little rough?”

Both were taunting her, and at first, her hackles rose. Then she remembered what Aden had told her. When fighting, emotions could ruin you. They made you dumb, kept you distracted. You had to remain distanced. You had to do whatever was needed to survive.

I feel nothing . Except nervous. Argh! She raised her chin, pretending, at least, to be calm. “I won’t cry if you don’t.”

Surprise flickered in both their eyes, and Maxwell even looked like he was fighting a grin.

“Spirit,” he said. “Let’s see how quickly we can crush it.”

In a snap, they were on her, tossing her to the ground like a doll, their now sharp, long teeth near her neck. She was too shocked—and terrified—to move or even block them. They’d swarmed her so quickly, her gaze had failed to track them.

Slowly, they backed away from her, standing over her and peering down. Something to note: they hadn’t chewed her face off.

“We’ve got our work cut out for us,” Nathan grumbled, and offered her a hand to help her up.

Her knees almost gave out when she tried to balance her weight.

“Vamps and wolves are faster than any human you can imagine,” Maxwell told her. “Clearly, you’re much slower.”

“Yeah, uh, I just figured that out. Thanks.”

Both chuckled.

“Vamps want your blood, and while they don’t have to dive for your neck to get it, that’s what they prefer. It’s harder for humans to push them away that way. Plus, it weakens the victim faster.”

“So basically, we’re like cows to them,” she said dryly.

“Except, you kill cows. Vamps just drink and discard, their food still kicking when they’re done.” Nathan shrugged. “For the most part.”

For the most part. Such a pleasant add-on. Mary Ann pressed her lips together as she recalled an exception to that “for the most part.” She’d watched several vampires torture and kill a boy named Ozzie. They’d splayed him out on a table—Tucker, too—and used him as an appetizer at their party, until the life drained out of him.

Either the wolves read her mind or her pinched expression gave her away. “Yeah, we heard about that,” Maxwell said. “Like humans, there are good and bad vampires. Good and bad wolves, too.”

“Speaking of, wolves don’t feed on humans.” Nathan picked up the lesson, expanding it. “If a wolf is attacking you, that wolf just wants you dead. And a wolf’s claws can ruin you in seconds, so your main goal when fighting a shifter is to avoid being slashed.”

“I never would have figured that out,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “So exactly how am I supposed to do that?”

“We’ll show you. Just try and keep up.”

For every minute of Riley’s allotted two hours, the boys worked with her. They tossed her down; they even threw her into trees. She lost her breath, nearly broke her wrist and definitely twisted her ankle, yet still she persisted. Still she made them keep coming at her.

They taught her many things. Mainly, she couldn’t hide from them. Their sense of smell was twenty times greater than a human’s. Their hearing was forty times greater. Also, they liked it when she ran. She became a game, a prize, and their heart rate would quicken with the challenge, their need to conquer intensifying.

If wolves approached her while in a pack, she was to remember that they were territorial and very rigidly structured. There was always a leader. Always. That leader controlled the actions of the others. If she could defeat the leader, she could defeat the pack. Unless, of course, the leader told the pack to glom onto her.

Warning signs of an impending glomming: their hair would rise. They would bare their teeth and growl.

Every time Maxwell and Nathan demonstrated that, in human and wolf form, her fear ratcheted another notch. They scented that fear, and it upped their hunger level, increasing the odds against her. She would have to learn to control her physical reactions, to show no fear, as Aden had already told her.

How? It was possible to hide an expression. It wasn’t possible to stop her heart from racing.

In the meantime, she now knew their noses were sensitive, more so than a human’s, so if she could hit them on their noses, she could buy herself several precious seconds to find a weapon. A stick, a rock, anything would help.

If they managed to pounce and push her down while she did so, she had to try and snap their necks with a firm twist of her wrists before they tore out her throat. Also, it was better to shove her hand into their mouths to keep their teeth busy with her fingers and wrist than to let them bite into her neck. Because if that happened, she was dead, no question. She could live without a hand.

If she was near water, she was to jump in. Wolves had a hard time fighting in water. They could do it, but it wasn’t their preference. And if she was lucky, they would give up and move on at that point, eager for readier prey.

By the end, she was sweaty, dirty and yeah, bleeding, not to mention grateful for the darkened sky. The boys hadn’t scratched her, per Riley’s orders, but the rocks and bark had. A few times, from the corner of her eye, she’d seen Riley stalk toward her, but then he would catch himself and return to his post, watching.

Maxwell and Nathan, at least, were just as sweaty and dirty as she was.

“Good job, human.” Maxwell patted her on the shoulder, and she pitched forward. Laughing, Maxwell caught her and helped her straighten. “I expected you to beg for mercy after five minutes.”

With that, the two sauntered away, clothes flying behind them as they undressed, leaving her alone with Riley. Howls soon erupted.