The Vigilante's Handbook (Misfits #1)

Twenty Eight: Communication Skills

It took me nearly thirty seconds to regain my breath. At first I choked on the blood still pouring from my nose. Then I felt the already forming bruises from Julien being on top of me. It all knocked the air out of me. 

Trying to sit up took a few more seconds, as I found black encroaching on my vision with each movement I made. When I was fully in a seated position, my eyes were still blurry with tears. As I wiped them away, I realized Julien’s hit to my head must have done some brain damage. 

There was no other way to explain what I saw in front of me. 

First of all, there were seven or eight Juliens twenty feet away. I couldn’t quite tell if they were all the product of his Gift or if some were from my head injury. All of them had mirroring expressions of pure fear on their identical features. Eyes stretched wide. Foreheads wrinkled up in concern in that way I thought was cute. Focus all fixed on one point. 

See, multiple Juliens was easy to explain. 

It was the wolf that I couldn’t understand. 

I hadn’t seen any live wolves in my life. Not many stumbled into Lincoln Lincoln and I hadn’t strayed from the city much in my eighteen years. Still, I was pretty sure a normal wolf wasn’t as big as the one standing in front of me. 

This one was easily four feet tall from paw to head. It was sporting a dull black coat that did nothing to hide that it was two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. There was no friendly twitch to the tail that suggested it had the playfulness of its puppy cousins. Enormous teeth were bared as a low snarl ripped from its maw. Though the wolf’s eyes never left Julien--and only one of the Juliens--its ears were pinned firmly backwards against its head in my direction. 

Juli may have been the main target, but I was next. As slowly as I could, I tried to scramble away. And scramble was the right verb. Every inch of my body hurt too much to be quiet against the leaf and twig carpet. I couldn’t stand on my own, so I dragged myself backward with one arm while the other was occupied with stopping my bleeding nose. 

The fresh blood must have attracted the wolf in the first place, but it was my noise that caught its attention now. 

Its huge head snapped in my direction almost too fast for me to catch the movement. Dark eyes that were only a shade lighter than its fur caught mine. Julien took the opportunity to run. All seven of his copies merged into his sweating form as he sprinted in the opposite direction. 

The wolf didn’t seem to care. It took a gentle step toward me. No twigs broke under its enormous weight. Its head lowered until it was looking at me. The whole body crouched down. 

I didn’t know anything about wolves, but my ancient survival instincts told me I wasn’t going to survive the next several seconds. I closed my eyes. I could already imagine how my life would end in excruciating detail. Watching it happen in real life would be worse. 

There was a cry of pain that I thought was mine.

A second passed. 

I felt no new injuries. Was I already dead? Had the wolf known to go for the jugular for a near instant kill? Was this what death was like?

To check, I opened my eyes. My body was no more bloody than it had been seconds ago. The wolf was no closer. 

In fact, it was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a hulking human form, hunched over, shoulders shaking, muscles straining. Another cry of pain echoed off the trees. And it came from him. 

“Miguel?”

His eyes turned to me, a soft brown that I had always been able to read like a warning label. Right now, anyone could have seen what he was saying. He was in excruciating pain. Much worse than whatever measly pain was pulsing from my possibly broken nose. I forgot all about the bruise ribs and imprint of Julien’s weight on my chest.