Bitten
Page 28
"Wow," I said. "He's gorgeous. Or is it a she?"
Jeremy turned. His eyes widened and he blanched. He stepped forward, then stopped and shouted for Clay.
"Did Clay let him out?" I said. "It's okay. I don't mind."
I dangled my fingers, enticing the dog over.
"Don't move," Jeremy said, his voice low. "Take your hand away."
"It's okay. I'm letting him smell me. You're supposed to do that with a strange dog before you pet them. I had some dogs growing up. Well, my foster families did, at least. See his posture? Ears forward, mouth open, tail wagging? That means he's calm and curious."
"Pull your hand back now."
I glanced over at Jeremy. He was tensed, as if ready to jump at the dog if it attacked me. He called for Clay again.
"Really, it's okay," I said, getting annoyed now. "If he's skittish, you're only going to scare him by yelling. Trust me. I was bitten by a dog once. Yappy little Chihuahua, but it hurt like hell. I've still got the scar. This guy's a big brute, but he's friendly enough. Big dogs usually are. It's the little buggers you have to watch."
The dog had crept closer. One eye was on Jeremy, wary, watching his body language as if expecting a beating. Anger surged through me. Was the dog abused? Jeremy didn't seem the type, but I'd barely met him. I turned from Jeremy and reached out farther.
"Hey, boy," I whispered. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?"
The dog stepped toward me, moving slowly and carefully, as if we were both afraid of startling each other. Its muzzle came toward my hand. As it lifted its nose to sniff my fingers, it suddenly jerked up, grabbing my hand and nipping. I yelped, more in surprise than in pain. The dog began to lick my hand. Jeremy sprang across the room. The dog ducked and bolted out the door. Jeremy started after him.
"Don't," I said, leaping to my feet. "He didn't mean it. He was just playing."
Jeremy strode over to me and grabbed my hand, inspecting the bite. Two teeth had broken through the skin, leaving tiny puncture wounds that only trickled a few drops of blood.
"He barely broke the skin," I said. "A love bite. See?"
Several minutes passed while Jeremy examined my wound. Then there was a commotion at the door. I looked up, expecting to see the dog again. Instead, Clay swung through. I couldn't see his expression. Jeremy was between us, obstructing my view.
"The dog nipped me," I said. "No big deal."
Jeremy turned on Clay. "Get out," he said, his voice so low I barely heard it.
Clay stood frozen in the doorway.
"Get out!" Jeremy shouted.
"It's not his fault," I said. "Maybe he let the dog in, but-"
I stopped. My hand started to burn. The twin punctures had turned an angry red. I gave my hand a sharp shake and looked over at Jeremy.
"I should clean this," I said. "Do you have Bactine or something?"
As I stepped forward, my legs gave out. The last thing I saw was Jeremy and Clay both grabbing for me. Then everything went black.
***
After Clay bit me, I didn't regain consciousness for two days, though at the time I thought only hours had passed. I awoke in one of the guest rooms, the one that would later become my bedroom. Opening my eyes required major effort. The lids felt hot and swollen. My throat ached, my ears ached, my head ached. Hell, even my teeth hurt. I blinked a few times. The room dipped and swayed, then came into focus. Jeremy was sitting in a chair by the bed. I lifted my head. Pain exploded behind my eyes. My head fell back to the pillow and I groaned. I heard Jeremy stand, then saw him looking down at me.
"Where's Clay?" I asked. It sounded more like "whaaaclaaa," as if I were speaking through a mouthful of marshmallows. I swallowed, wincing at the pain. "Where's Clay?"
"You're sick," Jeremy said.
"Really? I couldn't tell." The retort cost me too much. I had to close my eyes and swallow again before continuing. "What happened?"
"He bit you."
The memory flashed back. I could feel my hand throbbing now. I struggled to lift it. The two puncture wounds had swollen to the size of robin's eggs. Heat radiated off them. There was no sign of pus or infection, but something was definitely wrong. A lick of fear raced through me. Was the dog rabid? What were the symptoms of rabies? What else could you contract from a dog bite? Distemper?
"Hospital," I croaked. "I should go to the hospital."
"Drink this."
A glass appeared. It looked like water. Jeremy slid his hand behind my neck and lifted my head so I could drink. I jerked away, striking the glass with my chin and toppling it onto the bed. Jeremy swore and pulled the soaked coverlet back.
"Where's Clay?"
"You have to drink," he said.
He lifted a fresh coverlet from the foot of the bed, shook it, and laid it over me. I squirmed from under it.
"Where's Clay?"
"He bit you."
"I know the damned dog bit me." I jerked back as Jeremy put his hand on my forehead. "Answer my question. Where's Clay?"
"He bit you. Clay bit you."
I stopped struggling and blinked. I thought I'd heard wrong.
"Clay bit me?" I said slowly.
Jeremy didn't correct me. He stood there, looking down at me, waiting.
"The dog bit me," I said.
"It wasn't a dog. It was Clay. He… he changed form."
"Changed form," I repeated.
I stared at Jeremy, then twisted from side to side, trying to get up. Jeremy grabbed my shoulders and held me down. Panic ignited in me. I fought with more strength than I thought I had, flailing and kicking. He pinned me to the bed with as much effort as he might use to restrain a two-year-old.
"Stop it, Elena." My name came off his tongue awkwardly, like a foreign word.
"Where's Clay?" I shouted, ignoring the pain searing down my throat. "Where's Clay?"
"He's gone. I made him leave after he… bit you."
Jeremy seized both my arms and held them fast, pinning me so securely I couldn't move. He inhaled and started again.
"He's a…" He faltered, then shook his head. "I don't need to tell you what he is, Elena. You saw him change forms. You saw him become a wolf."
Jeremy turned. His eyes widened and he blanched. He stepped forward, then stopped and shouted for Clay.
"Did Clay let him out?" I said. "It's okay. I don't mind."
I dangled my fingers, enticing the dog over.
"Don't move," Jeremy said, his voice low. "Take your hand away."
"It's okay. I'm letting him smell me. You're supposed to do that with a strange dog before you pet them. I had some dogs growing up. Well, my foster families did, at least. See his posture? Ears forward, mouth open, tail wagging? That means he's calm and curious."
"Pull your hand back now."
I glanced over at Jeremy. He was tensed, as if ready to jump at the dog if it attacked me. He called for Clay again.
"Really, it's okay," I said, getting annoyed now. "If he's skittish, you're only going to scare him by yelling. Trust me. I was bitten by a dog once. Yappy little Chihuahua, but it hurt like hell. I've still got the scar. This guy's a big brute, but he's friendly enough. Big dogs usually are. It's the little buggers you have to watch."
The dog had crept closer. One eye was on Jeremy, wary, watching his body language as if expecting a beating. Anger surged through me. Was the dog abused? Jeremy didn't seem the type, but I'd barely met him. I turned from Jeremy and reached out farther.
"Hey, boy," I whispered. "You're a pretty one, aren't you?"
The dog stepped toward me, moving slowly and carefully, as if we were both afraid of startling each other. Its muzzle came toward my hand. As it lifted its nose to sniff my fingers, it suddenly jerked up, grabbing my hand and nipping. I yelped, more in surprise than in pain. The dog began to lick my hand. Jeremy sprang across the room. The dog ducked and bolted out the door. Jeremy started after him.
"Don't," I said, leaping to my feet. "He didn't mean it. He was just playing."
Jeremy strode over to me and grabbed my hand, inspecting the bite. Two teeth had broken through the skin, leaving tiny puncture wounds that only trickled a few drops of blood.
"He barely broke the skin," I said. "A love bite. See?"
Several minutes passed while Jeremy examined my wound. Then there was a commotion at the door. I looked up, expecting to see the dog again. Instead, Clay swung through. I couldn't see his expression. Jeremy was between us, obstructing my view.
"The dog nipped me," I said. "No big deal."
Jeremy turned on Clay. "Get out," he said, his voice so low I barely heard it.
Clay stood frozen in the doorway.
"Get out!" Jeremy shouted.
"It's not his fault," I said. "Maybe he let the dog in, but-"
I stopped. My hand started to burn. The twin punctures had turned an angry red. I gave my hand a sharp shake and looked over at Jeremy.
"I should clean this," I said. "Do you have Bactine or something?"
As I stepped forward, my legs gave out. The last thing I saw was Jeremy and Clay both grabbing for me. Then everything went black.
***
After Clay bit me, I didn't regain consciousness for two days, though at the time I thought only hours had passed. I awoke in one of the guest rooms, the one that would later become my bedroom. Opening my eyes required major effort. The lids felt hot and swollen. My throat ached, my ears ached, my head ached. Hell, even my teeth hurt. I blinked a few times. The room dipped and swayed, then came into focus. Jeremy was sitting in a chair by the bed. I lifted my head. Pain exploded behind my eyes. My head fell back to the pillow and I groaned. I heard Jeremy stand, then saw him looking down at me.
"Where's Clay?" I asked. It sounded more like "whaaaclaaa," as if I were speaking through a mouthful of marshmallows. I swallowed, wincing at the pain. "Where's Clay?"
"You're sick," Jeremy said.
"Really? I couldn't tell." The retort cost me too much. I had to close my eyes and swallow again before continuing. "What happened?"
"He bit you."
The memory flashed back. I could feel my hand throbbing now. I struggled to lift it. The two puncture wounds had swollen to the size of robin's eggs. Heat radiated off them. There was no sign of pus or infection, but something was definitely wrong. A lick of fear raced through me. Was the dog rabid? What were the symptoms of rabies? What else could you contract from a dog bite? Distemper?
"Hospital," I croaked. "I should go to the hospital."
"Drink this."
A glass appeared. It looked like water. Jeremy slid his hand behind my neck and lifted my head so I could drink. I jerked away, striking the glass with my chin and toppling it onto the bed. Jeremy swore and pulled the soaked coverlet back.
"Where's Clay?"
"You have to drink," he said.
He lifted a fresh coverlet from the foot of the bed, shook it, and laid it over me. I squirmed from under it.
"Where's Clay?"
"He bit you."
"I know the damned dog bit me." I jerked back as Jeremy put his hand on my forehead. "Answer my question. Where's Clay?"
"He bit you. Clay bit you."
I stopped struggling and blinked. I thought I'd heard wrong.
"Clay bit me?" I said slowly.
Jeremy didn't correct me. He stood there, looking down at me, waiting.
"The dog bit me," I said.
"It wasn't a dog. It was Clay. He… he changed form."
"Changed form," I repeated.
I stared at Jeremy, then twisted from side to side, trying to get up. Jeremy grabbed my shoulders and held me down. Panic ignited in me. I fought with more strength than I thought I had, flailing and kicking. He pinned me to the bed with as much effort as he might use to restrain a two-year-old.
"Stop it, Elena." My name came off his tongue awkwardly, like a foreign word.
"Where's Clay?" I shouted, ignoring the pain searing down my throat. "Where's Clay?"
"He's gone. I made him leave after he… bit you."
Jeremy seized both my arms and held them fast, pinning me so securely I couldn't move. He inhaled and started again.
"He's a…" He faltered, then shook his head. "I don't need to tell you what he is, Elena. You saw him change forms. You saw him become a wolf."
