Kat Falls - Inhuman

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The enormous dog began to back off. With its hackles raised, the mutt glared past me to the woods on the other side of the lake. A low growl rose from its throat. Underbrush crunched somewhere behind me. I was desperate to turn and see what the dog was sensing, but I couldn’t take my eyes from the rest of the pack. One of them might still crash into the shallow water and leap for my throat. But no, they all crept back as they too sniffed the air. Whatever was prowling through the trees had the whole pack cowering. And if these dogs were terrified, I knew I’d better run too. The lead dog gave a sharp bark that ended in a yelp, and then as one, the pack reeled about and raced up the hill out of sight.

“You looked like you could use some help,” a deep voice purred.

I whirled to see Chorda, the tiger-man, step out of the woods.

Chorda didn’t seem surprised to come across me so far from Moline. Had he followed us?

Rafe would tell me to scream and run away. As if sensing my hesitation, Chorda opened his arms wide, showing me that he was unarmed. He wore only thin black running pants. Despite his imperfect upper lip and downy striped fur, I could see the double image in his face, like an Escher drawing, the human beneath the tiger.

“Thank you for scaring them off.” My words were little more than an exhale.

His auburn eyes traveled the length of me, slow and deliberate, which set my nervous system buzzing. I wanted to flee but I squashed the impulse. Everyone probably ran from him. I wouldn’t be one more person making him feel bad about the way he looked. “What are you doing here?” I asked, wading out of the shallow water. I wouldn’t run from him, but I would keep my distance.

“I should be asking you that.” His voice was deep and rough. Mesmerizing. Yet unnerving too, like the rumbling of distant thunder. “I live here.”

“In the woods?”

“No.” He flashed a smile that revealed his disturbingly large canine teeth. “In a house back that way.” He waved a striped hand at the trees behind him. “I came to get water, and found this by the lake.” He unslung my messenger bag from his shoulder, which he’d been carrying the whole time. I hadn’t even noticed. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”

I sighed in relief. “Yes.”

He nodded toward the cottage. “I was going to leave it on the porch.”

I pushed through the reeds and stepped onto the grass. He held out the bag. I hesitated. There was something so odd about him. A strangeness I couldn’t quite identify. Maybe it was the intense way he was watching me.

“I see,” he said softly. “You’re scared of me.” His whole body seemed to sag a little. “I’ll leave it here and go.” He bent to put the messenger bag down.

“No, I’m sorry,” I said quickly, feeling terrible. I hurried forward and he placed the bag gently into my outstretched hand. But when he lifted his fingers to my face, I stiffened. He traced a fingertip down the curve of my cheek. Had I imagined that he’d had claws when he was caught in Rafe’s trap?

“You are the most human of humans,” he said and dropped his hand to his side. “What are you doing here, Lane?”

I relaxed. After hearing about ferals from Rafe yesterday — how they drooled, growled, and tried to bite anyone who got close — I could tell that this man didn’t have “animal brain.” What was the harm in answering his question as long as I didn’t get into specifics? “I have to go to Chicago.”

His tail swished, whipping the bushes behind him. “Chicago is a dangerous place.”

So I’d heard. “There’s something there I need to get.”

He tilted his head, considering me. “You’re too young to have left something behind.”

“I’m doing it for someone else.”

“Ahh.” He sounded pleased. “Because of your kind heart.”

I smiled. Finally, someone who didn’t see kindness as a flaw. “Not this time.” I picked up my boots and glanced at the cottage, wondering if the guys would come looking for me. “I should get going. Thank you for bringing my bag.”

“It was quite humane of me, yes?” he asked with a purr.

I smiled. “Yes.”

“But not human.” His expression hardened. “Not yet .” And before I could react, his fist slammed into my forehead. A starburst of pain exploded behind my eyes and reality retreated, only this time there were no dreams to fill the void.

Consciousness returned with the fetid smell of blood. Mine? I wondered through the waves of pain crashing in my head. Slowly my eyes adjusted to the shadows. I was lying on my stomach on a hard surface. I tried to push myself up and found, first with annoyance, then fear, that my arms had gone numb from being pressed into the floor by my own body weight. Then a nerve path cleared in my brain, and I remembered how I’d gotten here. Chorda.

I struggled to get up, but my wrists were bound together. Again, I caught the scent of blood in the air … and death, sweet and rotten. I rolled onto my side and found a girl on the floor next to me, returning my stare with blank eyes. Dead eyes.

The cry that tore out of my throat was savage. Flailing, I tried to kick the corpse away but couldn’t. I thrashed onto my back.

“Finally,” a voice rumbled out of the dark. “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

Recognition hit like a lightning strike, searing my nerves, and then his face appeared above me, striped skin and gleaming fangs. A beast that tears out people’s hearts , Rafe had said. I began to gag.

“Stop making that noise!” The tiger-man gripped my jaw in his large hand, forcing my mouth shut. “You sound like an animal.”

Jerking my chin free, I flipped away — a mistake, for now I was face-to-face with the dead girl again. Fabiola. The girl who’d gone missing. Who’d known something was hunting her. I wanted to sob for the girl who’d been stuck in an abandoned building with only her sister for company. She looked like Alva, with her long, dark hair, gleaming necklaces, and lace-trimmed gown … which was torn open at the neckline, exposing the bloody, ragged hole in her chest.

Oh no, Rafe was right — Chorda was the rogue. He had been following me. I began to shake, hands and arms twitching uncontrollably. “You killed her….”

“A waste,” he said with a dismissive snuffle. “Her heart didn’t work.”

“Work?” Breathe! Think. But how could I with the stench of a corpse clogging my throat?

Gripping my arms, Chorda pulled me to a sitting position. “None of them worked.” He peered at me with luminous eyes.

I looked past his face, unable to bear the jittery excitement in his expression. Beyond him was a vast and decaying parlor with its windows and French doors boarded up from the inside.

“They weren’t human enough.” A low rumble grew within him and he shifted on his haunches. “But you are. You saved me from that hunter, and now you will save me from this curse.” He ran his hand through the fur on his chest, distaste twisting his features.

“The virus?” I shook my head in the face of his insanity. “I can’t. I —”

“You will,” he roared, spewing out foul breath.

What was wrong with me? Don’t make the crazy man angry! “I’m sorry! I’ll help you. I will. But I don’t know anything about Ferae.”

Letting go of my arms, he rose before me. “I don’t need what’s in your mind….”

I inhaled deeply, fighting for clarity. He was a psycho with a virus messing up his thinking. I had no weapon. No way to defend myself. How was I going to get away from him? As if in answer, an engine rumbled in the distance. The jeep!