Creatures

FIVE

Chrissy pressed her back into the drawers. "Yeah?" She asked, "and what on earth would make me disregard what an entitled bastard you are?"

He found her plush lips quite interesting, and drew his thumb across the top one. "You'll go through heat. Then you'll be begging."

She was nonplussed, smacked his hand. "Whatever it is, I've been through worse. Now where the hell is the laundry room?"

Now, he was frustrated. None of his tricks were working. "How the hell are you so fiery and yet so cold?"

She stared him dead in the eyes. "Cold protects me. You have fists." She pushed him back. "Maybe don't belittle me. You'll get further."

With that, she stalked off.

He followed her. "Hey, you can't leave."

Chrissy shot him a glance over her shoulder as she started down the stairs. "You told me I could."

"You have nowhere to go, Chris!" He pointed out.

She walked by the coffee table as she got downstairs, picking up a phone with a deep blue case. She shook it at him. "Sure I do. I have a best friend with an old F-150."

He narrowed his eyes, remembering the boy she was smoking with outside of school. "No. Way. In. Hell. You are not going to some guy's house."

She feigned a pout and decided to fuck with his ego. "Aw, big bad wolfy scared that his girlfriend will fuck another dude..." she broke into a big grin. "Just imagine it, the girl that you don't own... With another man between her thighs, begging for more... God," she bit her lip, "Ryland's so big too."

Chrissy realized she fucked up when she saw his facial expression. "I'm so screwed for that."

He laughed maliciously. "Oh, yeah. Run."

"What? Run where?" She asked, confused.

He started taking steps closer, balling his fists. "Run."

"Chill out, Soileau. I wouldn't do anything with him."

He cocked his head at her. "Does it look like I care? Run."

She started to panic, and paid absolutely no attention to the words that started to flood from her mouth. "Look, we only kissed like once and it was really weird because I'm pretty sure he's gay — or at least mostly gay, I've known him since I was like five-"

"Christine."

"Yes?"

"Run."

Her eyes widened. "Right." She quickly turned on her heel and took off for the back of the house, to what she was hoping was the laundry room.

His steps came fast behind her. She hung a left and caught a glimpse of a washing machine, then bolted to it. She shrieked as she felt his hand tangle into her hair, then whipped around, and his fingers slipped out of it, and she slammed her body weight into the door. He yelled as his arm was crushed, and she watched it retract. She closed the door and quickly locked it.

"Bet you won't break it down!" She called to him.

"I have a key!" He yelled at her. Christine heard his footsteps take off.

She whipped open the dryer, which wasn't anywhere near done with it's load but she couldn't give a fuck. She snagged her underwear and one of the bras and put them on as fast as possible. At least they were warm and wet instead of cold and wet.

She threw the flannel on over her shoulders and simply snagged her jeans, she'd put them on later, and decided "fuck it" with the rest.

As quiet as possible, she unlocked the door, heard him rummaging furiously around upstairs.

With stealth, she ran to the foyer, then started with the deadbolt on the front door. She whipped around to make sure he wasn't there, when, to her horror, he was. Chrissy yanked open the door and ran as fast as she could down the steps, and was suddenly wrenched of her feet, held tight by someone's brawny arms.

By... Not Tristan?

"You lookin' for this?" A deep voice drawled. She struggled and tried to tear away from him, but couldn't. And then she... Stopped.

"Katheryn?" She asked incredulously.

The school's glowing princess was standing around, teary eyed and and chewing on her fingernails. She was in a long, thick knit cardigan, fuzzy slippers and tiny shorts.

"Small towns, right?" She mumbled. "Jasper, just let her go."

Grumbling, he shoved her straight into Tristan.

"Fae?" Tristan asked him simply.

"Yup."

Jasper - at least seemed to be - another brooding and broad shouldered Lykan, with pitch black hair and gunmetal eyes.

Katheryn glanced at him. "He saved me."

"I guess." He drawled.

"What kind is he? Or is there more than one?" Tristan questions, grabbing onto Chrissy's arm before she could sneak away. She sighed exasperatedly and snatched her jeans that had landed in the dirt.

He shook his head. "One. Vine of some kind." He lifted up his arm, which had a large scrape down it, and was starting to blister nastily around the edges. "I'm gonna go with poison ivy or sumac."

"What do you mean, 'kind'? What are Fae?" Chrissy asks.

"Forest immortals." Katheryn murmurs. "They have different traits based on family lines."

Chrissy stared at her. "You know about this shit?"

She flushed. "I'm... A witch."

Before Chrissy could overload her with questions, Tristan interrupted. "There's a book, Christine. I'll give it to you."

A book? Oh, joy.

"I'll send a group out in the morning." Tristan told Jasper. He nodded in response.

Tristan grabbed Chrissy with a shrill shriek and tossed her over his shoulder. She fought to get free, kicking him in the chest and pounding on his back, aiming for his kidneys.

And the door slammed behind them.