Dark Side of the Moon

CHAPTER ONE

Though I am sometimes more than reluctant to admit it, there are a lot of advantages to being a werewolf.  Granted I was crouching bloody, bruised and sore, in the bushes of some random backyard because of what I was, but at least I was alive, and for that I was not complaining. There's nothing like a near-death experience to make you grateful for what you have, and right now I was glad the lycanthropy I'd been born with meant that I could withstand such a brutal beating from my so-called pack. Glad that the wounds all over my body would fade away without a trace, without even a scar to remind me that I had nearly died. Hours ago- though in my mind it felt like more than that- I had dragged my broken body away from my attackers with much help from the wolf who shared part of my soul. Like I said, there were a lot of advantages. Now here I was; as wholly intact as I could possibly be, about to risk my life again and attempt for the fourth time to break into some strange human's house.

Why? I mean, I'm a werewolf, right? Why would I need to break into a human's house, when all I had to do was shift and find my way on four paws?  Everything I could possibly need to survive could be found in my wolf form; I would be warm and protected from the cold that pressed at me from all sides as I hid in the tiny backyard, my toes wriggling in the dirt to keep the blood flowing to them. Aside from that there was plenty of vermin around to satisfy my hunger if I was really that desperate. Which, to be totally honest, I wasn't. My wolf might appreciate it, but I wasn't fond of dead bird or rat. Or cat, for that matter, as my ears pricked up to the sound of one yowling mournfully a few yards over. I sniffed the air excitedly, taking only a moment to catch the scent of the cat. It was male, and a territorial one at that. Fairly young too, which meant he would probably fight rather than run. I grinned in the darkness. He would be fun to chase...  

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it, wincing as the movement re-opened a gash on my neck. See Lacey, that's what happens when you get distracted. I couldn't help it. With the full moon so close and my body already fighting to heal, it was taking more effort than usual to keep my wolf under control. Especially in a place with so many scents floating like cotton candy in the air...
I raised a hand to my neck and felt the stickiness of drying blood. The gash had already sealed over again, but it like all my other wounds was taking too long to heal. I was so tempted to become wolf; it would be a lot faster than healing as a human, but that little luxury would put me in a worse situation. To shift forms right now would more than likely get me caught. And then killed, if I was lucky. I had absolutely no doubt in my mind that there were wolves following my scent at this very moment, and shifting would send out a burst of magical energy that they would sense within a few kilometres radius. I had already made that mistake a few hours earlier, and if I hadn't been able to make such a quick getaway, I had no doubt that I would be dead. So no more shifting, at least not until I'd gotten rid of my pursuers. If I wanted to escape I had to do it in the boring, old fashioned human way, and that meant blending into my surroundings and running as fast as I could with my (not so proverbial) tail between my legs. Easier said than done.

The small red-bricked house I was eyeing stood dark and deserted in front of me as I ran my plan over again in my mind. First things first; I needed to find a shower to wash off the all the blood I was covered in. A creek or river would have done just fine, but the only one I'd come across had been badly polluted by oil that had probably come off the road in a recent rain shower. I'd figured if all signs of life had deserted the little pond it was probably a good idea for me to do the same. I would have come out of the water covered in gunk and oil, and looking even worse than before. It was bad enough already that I looked like something straight out of a gory slasher movie, and if I wanted to move around unnoticed by humans, well then the blood just had to go. At least I was no longer leaving a crimson trail where I walked.

It was a silver lining, right? My stomach roared defiantly in reply, the pain almost making me double over for a moment. I was so starving from trying to heal myself as quickly as it was possible in my human form that my control really was lessening and I was at risk of going full blown wolf in the middle of suburbia, which was a bad idea in more ways than I could count. I wasn't sure I was strong enough to control my wolf if she did emerge to take over for a while. Hungry predator werewolf plus soft, vulnerable and unsuspecting human's equals... you get the picture. Not good. If I did lose control I would be putting unknown lives at risk, as well as my own. Though admittedly, there's not much that can kill my kind, and humans weren't all that equipped to kill with their bare hands anyway. Their nails were too brittle; their teeth not sharp enough, their skin too pink and soft. Of course, they had their guns. Humans are in the habit of shooting things they don't understand, especially if that thing was a wolf bigger than a bear with long sharp teeth and claws. A bullet to the brain would take me down, but unless it was silver, I would heal. I would also be vulnerable and susceptible to an attack from those chasing me. It would be kind of ironic for me to have survived so far only to be brought by a human. Not the 'ha ha' kind of irony, the kind that makes you want to kick things. Repeatedly.

I shivered a little in the bushes and looked up at the slightly cloudy sky. I was far enough from the city that I could see a spread of flickering stars and the bright, lovely moon. It was only a week until the full moon; something I usually welcomed. This time around, however, the moon's presence couldn't be any more inconvenient. Werewolves lose control at the full moon, and since my control was already wavering.... *insert scene from one of those black and white horror movies, the kind with the screaming violins playing in the background*.  Get the picture?
Besides all that, my clothes were quite literally ripped to shreds. My jumper was so frayed that you could see bare patches of my pale, blood-stained skin in some places, gleaming eerily in the moonlight as it flickered in and out of the light smattering of clouds. Underneath the jumper my singlet was long gone and my underwear was practically non-existent. That was another reason why I was hiding in the itching leaves. I was pretty sure there was some kind of law against exposing too much skin in public. At least my pants were still partially intact. Well, they were better off than my jumper anyway. I had ripped the bottom of my jeans off at the knee when they'd hindered my running, and now my shins were a mess of healing cuts and bruises.

In retrospect, it was no wonder why it had been so hard to hitchhike here. Exhausted from running, I had stopped to shift back to human in a strip of dense trees that grew along a highway. If I hadn't been able to flag down a man in his run-down green Toyota Ute, I would have been caught. I'd almost been able to feel my pack breathing down my neck, and in my panic I hadn't stopped to check my appearance. The blood had run out of the elderly man's face so fast when I'd climbed into the passenger seat next to him that I'd thought he was going to pass out over the wheel. He seemed to have been made of tougher stuff though, and to give him credit he hadn't kicked me out and sped away, tired squealing, like I'd expected him to. I can turn on that whole 'helpless-young-woman' facade when I need to though, my black eye making me look even more vulnerable and terrified. He'd even offered to take me to a hospital and call my family. Of course I couldn't tell him that I'd never been in a human hospital because I was a werewolf, or that the only kind of family I had left were out to kill me.
So I'd politely refused his kindness several times, but thanked him when he dropped me off in this little suburban area about an hour before sunset. He'd offered food, money, but I didn't want to involve him in my life any more than I had to. The men in my pack didn't hold much regard for human life, and would have no issue with killing him once they'd found out all they could. I couldn't have that on my consciousness. Despite the myths and legends, not all of us werewolves are monsters.

I moved again and tried not to make a noise as a bout of pins and needles attacked my legs. I don't know how long I'd been crouching there, building up the courage to move out of my hiding spot and towards the house. I needed to break into it soon so I could shower, eat and find some clothes before the couple made their return. Yeah, I know I should feel guiltier, but it wasn't like I was going to steal their television or anything; I had no interest in money, just some basic necessities. My wolf and I could live without materialistic things. In fact, my wolf didn't want for anything but a place to sleep and something small and furry to hunt and sink her teeth into. The thought made my stomach growl again painfully in reminder. I had to do this, and hope karma didn't kick me in the shins for it later. I promised myself that I would feel more shame for what I was about to do when I was showered, fed, and not running for my life.

I shivered again- more violently this time- sending the bushes I was hiding in into a rustling frenzy. Mosquitoes, usually less common in these colder winter months, were suddenly swarming around me, attracted to all the blood on my skin and beneath it. Werewolf blood isn't as sweet as human blood, but they didn't seem to mind the difference as they began their ferocious, unrelenting attacks. I swatted at a couple as they bit me on the more sensitive parts of my skin and pushed a black mass of tangled hair from my eyes. The street I was in was relatively quiet, and the young couple who owned the house had left ages ago, unknowingly leaving me huddled in their backyard. They had no dog- not that it would be a problem for me if they did- and from what I could see they had no kind of security system. Excellent. The first house I'd tried had had a burglar alarm that I'd accidentally set off trying to get through an open window; the piercing warning sound had kept my ears ringing even as I surveyed my next target. Sensitive hearing and high frequency alarms were not a good mix for werewolves, but I would not make that mistake again, not now that I knew what to look for. It was now or never. I listened intently, hearing nothing but a slight rustling as the air caressed the trees with icy fingers, and of course, my own slightly erratic heartbeat. Since my body was trying to recover from my bashing, my heart was beating a little faster than usual, pumping that wonderful healing magic all the way to the tips of my fingers and slightly numb toes. Of course, the adrenaline I was gaining from breaking into houses might have had something to do with it. It wasn't every day I broke the law. Granted, it wasn't every day I nearly died, either.

Sigh. My name is Lacey Corvell, and as you can see, I'm in a hell of a lot of trouble.