Teethmarks and Wolf Pelts

Collapsing onto the warm comforter of my bed suddenly felt like a shot of morphine to my tired body. My clothes had been ripped to shreds by the Change and I was so lucky I hadn't worn anything particularly cute. My body is sore of the running and the sudden Changing, but most of all, my brain is the most tired. The whole ride home I thought nothing but what Damon had said about Lewis.

He can't possibly have ordered an attack on the werefox, at least not by the Hunters. If they knew who was calling, every two natured in town would be dead. He is also very compassionate and sweet, very understanding. There's no way he could have done anything to harm the werefoxes like that. But then again, why do I still believe what Damon said? I don't know him, for all I know he could be a pathological liar, but at the same time... There's some much conviction and truth in his words that I just want to believe him. After all, Lewis did punch me in the gut that one time. He caused me to cough up my blood.

"One bunch out of animalistic anger doesn't make him a killer," I tell myself, muttering the words into my pillow. It isn't like anyone is home, so it doesn't matter if I talk out loud or not. I clutch my sheets in utter frustration. There isn't the slightest evidence that could link him to any crime, not even in his personality. He's a really sweet guy, always ready to lend a hand.

In the movies, all the psychopaths are always nice at first, I remind myself. I mean, after all, he did act like me not wanting to be with him was all fine and dandy and then conveniently had me go to some place I where I got chased down by a frantic werefox... No. He couldn't have sent me to my death intentionally, right? He had no idea that could have happened. At least I hope not.

Frustrated and tired, I close my eyes and somehow manage to wriggle myself under the covers. Thoughts of Lewis flood my mind, but my body is way too tired to even try and keep up with them. Soon sleep claims me, and I welcome it without a fight.



In my dream, Connor is alive and breathing. The way he should be now, but isn't. He sits on the edge of the tree branch, his feet dangling right above. I shake my head and climb the tree. It's actually a lot easier than it seems, though I'm not sure if it's because I'm two natured, or if it's because this is just a dream. Either way, my hands and feet grip the trunk and I make my way to the branch where Connor sits. Once there, I plop myself down next to him, surprised to find that the branch doesn't break nor does it wiggle under our weight.

His brown hair was just as curly and long as it had been that night we found him on the floor, but his skin was tan and full of life. His caramel eyes, ones that look so much like Felix's it scares me, sparkle sporadically in the light that flickers in through the spaces between the trees. He folds his hands into his lap as I had seen him do so many times while he'd been alive.

"I figured you'd haunt my dreams," I tell him, nudging him a little. Everything about the dream seems different. I can actually feel myself in control of most things and it amazes me. Connor lets a wide grin spread upon his face. My heart aches a little at the sight of it. I haven't seen that smile in so long.

"Not haunting if you're willing," he laughs. I start cracking up almost immediately. This is the boy I've longed to see again for more than a month. But, sadly, I remember that this is the boy I'll never get to see again.

"So, does this mean you're a ghost? Stuck in the afterlife?"

"Nah, that stuff is for losers. I'm in the Fields with the Mother," he says. My mind briefly wanders back to when my own mother had mentioned the Mother. I want to ask him about it but his large hand clasps around my wrist. I look at him slowly. "You're one of us now, huh?"

I nod cautiously. He hangs his head. "I'm sorry for not saying anything to you over the summer, and then just showing up and telling you to keep my whereabouts a secret. I shouldn't have done that."

"Don't be sorry-"

"I am, Priss. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was. To be fair, I didn't get my first change until around the time school let out for summer. I was a late bloomer. I got caught up in Lewis's crowd and he told me that... I couldn't be with a human girl."

"That's not true," I say, startled. "My mom is human. Dad married her! Had children with her."

"I think he said it 'cause he had his eyes on you," he whispers.

"Lewis is a good guy, I guess, but I don't think I could ever like him enough to actually be with him."

"Actually, Priscilla, Lewis is what I came here to warn you about." He drops his eyes down to the forest floor, looking anywhere but at me. I scrunch up my eyebrows in curiosity. What's the deal with everyone wanting to tell me about Lewis these days? "He's not a good guy, Priss."

"He is-"

"He's done so many terrible things. You have no idea."

"Yeah, like what?" I'm starting to get angry now. Sure, I may have doubted Lewis's motives before, because of Damon, but hearing another person -someone who isn't even alive, I might add- is starting to cross the line. He has been nothing but kind to me, and as much as I feel that he could be capable of these terrible things Connor's talking about, I just don't want to believe it.

Connor doesn't even have the chance to answer. A quick gasp escapes his lips before he slips and falls off the branch, body hitting many other branches on the way to the ground. Hurriedly, I lean over the branch in sheer panic, only to find Connor laying on the ground, leg bent in an odd angle. His skin has already become the shade of white paper, but that's not what my makes my stomach turn. It's the aconite dagger pushed into his stomach.

And a dream-conjured Lewis standing next to him. The blond boy just grins, blue eyes almost the color of silver. He cups his hands over his mouth and yells out to me, "The waking world is calling!"



My eyes force themselves open as the loud ringing of my phone splits my ears. With a heavy sigh, I try to push my dream to the far corners of my mind and focus on the clock on the nightstand. It's five in the morning. I must have been really tired, I think, I slept almost all of yesterday away.

The phone rings a few more times before I even pick it up. Gazing down at the caller ID, my spirit lifts a little. Felix. However, as soon as I hear his hushed tone and strict words, my hopes and spirits are crushed in a matter of seconds. Felix's voice is brisk, but demanding.

"Get over here. Now. We may have a problem."