. 03

The sounds coming from the second bedroom made Yvette rush towards the door. In the back of her mind, Bad Yvette was whispering that she ought to do the exact opposite. She hardly knew Kristen all that well anyway, and it wouldn't be so bad having a dorm room all to herself. There might even be some truth to the old urban legend that one got a 4.0 if one's roommate died in the middle of the semester. But Yvette refused to listen.

Once she opened the door, though, she sort of wished she had.

Three of the strangest beasts she'd ever seen paced around her friends, stopping every so often to snarl at them. They looked like white tigers, but their tails were lengths of lacquered steel chain, the last links of which were vicious white spearheads. Large racks of antlers grew out of their heads, those too made of white steel. Whenever their massive paws touched the carpet, ice crystals quickly spread out like frozen spider webs, though they began to melt as soon as the ice-steel-tiger-beasts moved.

"Help!" Kristen shouted. Or maybe it was a whimper. She had her back pressed against Curt's and tears had ruined her makeup. "They're gonna eat us. Do something!"

"Get out of here!" Curt said at the same time.

"What?" Zach asked from over her shoulder.

"`Anything you try's only gonna antagonize them," the big jock said, giving Kristen's hand a squeeze. `Look at these things! No sense going down with us."

Kristen whimpered loudly.

There were a dozen more appropriate reactions, Yvette was sure, but she found herself cocking her head to the side and studying Curt intently. Gauging his fear, which was surprisingly minimal. Perhaps she'd misjudged him. The macho man thing seemed to be more than an act. Wouldn't do Kristen much good, granted, but it still impressed Yvette.

In a small way.

"Maybe he's right," Zach whispered to her.

That, on the other hand, wasn't so impressive.

Curt probably

was

right. She didn't see what she and Zach could do to the unnatural beasts circling the bed besides annoy them. And since it didn't seem like they'd taken any notice of her and Zach yet, for whatever reason, that seemed like an especially bad idea.

But still. What kind of man would abandon his friend like that? How could she trust that he wouldn't do the same to her, should the situation ever arise?

"Are you kidding?" Yvette asked him, making sure to convey as much disapproval bordering on disgust as she could. Sure, the very same thought had crossed her mind, but Zach didn't know that. "We are

not

leaving them."

Besides, there was nowhere to go. As Zach well knew.

"Good!" Kristen said. "I know I'm not the best roommate, but-"

"Stop," Yvette said. She didn't even want to know how the girl would have finished that sentence. The desperation in her voice made Yvette's skin crawl. It also meant that anything nice she said would be pure bullshit. "No one's going to die tonight."

The nearest kitty turned to her and purred. Only that purr came out like roar. The rumble in its throat made the floor vibrate. And she was pretty sure that some of her piercings did the same. It was a wonder that she didn't wet her pants. Those jaws looked powerful enough to snap her thigh in half without so much as slowing down, and it wouldn't surprise her to learn that the beast's teeth were sharp enough to rend steel.

Why did that thrill her nearly as much as it scared her?

Was she really getting aroused by a supernatural tiger beast with a spiked chain for a tail and steel antlers that would cut through her like tissue paper?

Yes. Yes, she was.

Or, more accurately, Bad Yvette was, and she was along for the ride. The rest of her felt a heady mix of fear, disgust, confusion, and self-loathing. But none powerfully enough to crowd out the intense excitement causing her petals to unfurl.

"Ooookaaay," Zach said, pulling her back gently with an unwelcome hand on her shoulder. "What are we going to do then? Yank on their tails?"

"Good question," a strange, guttural voice asked from out in the hall. Whoever, or

what

ever, had spoken wasn't accustomed to doing so. Not with that set of equipment, anyway. Her father had sounded more natural the first time she'd spoken to him via Skype.

Yvette pushed Zach out of the way and got herself a good look. Though "good" was not quite the right word. Nothing about the sight before her was good.

Part man and part wolf, it stood on two legs and had to have been close to ten feet tall. Its body was covered in white fur, short enough in most places for her to admire the incredible definition on its lean muscles but thick and shaggy around the ankles, down the chest and abs, above its manhood, along the arms from elbow to wrist, and from the neck up. A bushy tail drifted lazily through the air behind it. Steak knives stretched out from the tips of its elongated fingers and its muzzle contained dozens of sharp white teeth.

If the unnatural beasts inside the bedroom filled Yvette with an awkward mix of appropriate and inappropriate reactions, the wolf might as well have been an underwear model. The fear and shame and so forth remained with her, but they slipped beneath the surface, leaving a solid layer of pure lust on top. Any moment now, rational thought would return, she was sure. But for the time being, all Yvette could think about was how badly she wanted to get fucked by that thing. How desperately her womanhood yearned to be filled by its huge spear while those claws made a mess of her back, shoulders, and hips.

Then the urge passed.

Or, rather, it ceded ground to her other emotions. The tingle between her legs remained, she still felt flushed, and her nipples hadn't stopped throbbing, but she felt enough shame in that moment that the thought of being torn limb from limb by a giant furry monster kind of held some appeal. And not of the perverse, Bad Yvette sort. She'd made a lot of bad decisions in the past year, but getting down on all fours so a werewolf could violate her while a trio of tigers devoured her friends would definitely take the fucking cake.

"What

are

you going to do?" the wolfman said as it took a slow step closer to Yvette and Zach with a four-toed paw that was decidedly less human than its five-fingered hands.

It bent down, so that it no longer towered over her. Big blue eyes stared into hers. They were the exact same color as Zach's. Or Lance's. For a split second, she was amused by that. Ready to ask herself what the odds were. But then she realized it was no coincidence. Couldn't be. Eyes like that were too unique. And something supercrazy was going on. Had been from the moment they'd set foot in the cabin, she suspected.

"Lance?" she asked.

"Say what?" Zach asked, as if he didn't know. "You slept with

that

?!"

Or maybe he didn't. Was it possible that he had no connection to the older man? Despite their obvious similarities and even more striking differences? No. There had to be

some

link. But that didn't necessarily mean he was aware of it.

"Well, he looked a bit different at the time," Yvette muttered.

More was the pity.

The wolf-thing smiled. At least, she thought the way its lips curled back, baring still more of its teeth, might pass for such. And, if she wasn't mistaken, one of its eyes sparkled.

"That I did," Lance said.

"Fuuuuck," Zach said.

Yvette's reaction was much the same. But a lot more complicated.

She hated herself. And wanted to tell Zach not to hate her. Yet if Lance told her he wanted another go right then and there, she wouldn't have refused. Even though part of her wanted to scream at him and tell him to get the hell out of their cabin. And take his weird pets with him. Still another part wanted to pass out and hope that it would all be over by the time she woke up. But Yvette couldn't give voice to any of those feelings, because her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and most of her synapses weren't firing.

"Eaves!" Kristen called from in the bedroom. "What's going on out there?"

The loud noise made one of the tigers growl.

"Shh!" Curt said. "Don't provoke them."

"

Provoke

them?!" Kristen shrieked. "They're going to eat us, Curt! For fuck's sake!"

"All the sooner if you don't keep quiet," he replied.

Yvette looked from Lance to Zach. She found no expression on either of their faces. In fact, neither seemed to be aware of her presence anymore. They were locked in a staring contest that already had a clear winner, though Zach had yet to throw in the towel.

"Don't you think we should take this party downstairs, love?" asked a woman whose high-pitched voice Yvette didn't recognize. "There's not much room up here."

One moment, the hallway behind Lance was empty. The next, it was not. A black-haired woman wearing a black dress with blue trim stepped out of the shadows and pressed her hands against him affectionately. Her nails and heels were the same shade of blue as the cups of her dress, as were her eyes and even her lips. Which, Yvette couldn't help but notice, were obnoxiously full. On any other woman, they'd have looked gross and fake, and not just because of the bold, unusual hue. Yvette might still have thought so, except by the standards of that incredibly fucked-up night, the woman's incredible beauty seemed almost boring. And the strange cosmetic choice struck Yvette as hauntingly beautiful.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Zach said, without conviction. Had she not heard the words but instead just the sound of his voice, Yvette might have thought he'd asked her if he could get her anything to drink. Or offered to give her a foot massage. "Neither is she," he added, a little more firmly, planting a hand on Yvette's shoulder as he did.

"Hmmm," the woman moaned throatily as she rolled her hips, filling Yvette with a hunger she'd never known before. That sound alone nearly made her cum.

The shadow lady didn't have particularly dramatic curves. It just looked like it because her waist was implausibly thin and the dress fit her so perfectly. That, and the splashes of color were strategically positioned to emphasize her best parts. Yet the hips, thighs, and breasts to which that silk clung so desperately were not nearly as impressive as they first appeared. Yvette knew that. She couldn't help desiring the woman, though. For the first time in her life, she pictured her face buried between another woman's breasts. They might be half the size of her girls, but they were still perfect. Big, but not too big.

"Why is it that I don't believe you?" the woman asked. Her words were directed at Zach, but her eyes and her body language were locked on Yvette.

"I...I...," Zach stammered.

"Yvette!" Kristen shouted.

The blue-lipped woman rolled her blue eyes. Which, Yvette noted, were also unnaturally bright and colorful. Just like Lance's. "You want to take care of that, or should I?"

"You do it," he said. "I'll escort these two down to the living room."

"Don't hurt them," Yvette said.

"Yeah," Zach said. "If you so much as-"

The woman started laughing. The sound of it was somehow both dainty and perfectly belittling. Such a light, musical laugh could only be produced by the most feminine of beings. Someone too small and too delicate to harm a fly. Yet Yvette felt her body fold in on itself in sympathy for Zach, who must have felt even less threatening himself.

"Please," he said.

That put and end to the laughter. And made her blue lips curve upward.

Yvette lost herself for a moment in the shape of them. The way they swelled in the center and the pronounced philtrum above the upper one. Thin at the edges and ultra-thick in the middle, the woman's lips reminded Yvette of a painted geisha. Her unnaturally fair skin, as white as freshly fallen snow, added to the effect. As did her jet black hair.

She could never look like that. It didn't matter that her hair and skin had more or less the same coloration. Her skin was pale and sickly, not beautiful and pure. The black curtains falling to her shoulders looked more like wool than silk. And her lips were dreadfully thin.

"Don't worry, my cute little pup," the woman said, taking long graceful strides towards Zach on her stunning blue heels. "I won't harm a hair on their heads," she added, trailing a fingertip over the back of Zach's hand and down his forearm.

The emphasis she put on the first word should have made alarm bells ring in Yvette's head. But she was too distracted by the seductive touch to notice.

Did she have any right to feel jealous? To get possessive of a man she did not possess? No. Not at all. But she did all the same. There was no way Zach would do to Yvette what she'd done to him, but if the woman tried tempting him to do so, she'd find out whether her stomach was capable of digesting a few of her teeth.

"That's your job," the woman finished.

"What are you talking about?" Zach asked.

Yvette would have pulled away and turned around, but that would have meant Zach's hand leaving her shoulder. And she figured the bitch standing beside her would be all too happy to get closer still to her "little pup." But Yvette didn't like the thought of Zach staring into those bright blue eyes instead of her pale ones.

"We'll explain in a minute," she said, sliding away from Yvette's shoulder and towards Zach's. "Go downstairs. Make yourself comfortable. Have another drink."

Then the bitch planted a kiss on his cheek. As if she had any right. As if he'd want anything to do with her if he was more in control of his own thought processes.

And that

was

the only reason he allowed it. Because it was no easier for Zach to ignore the charms of the strange woman than it had been for Yvette to deny Lance. The two of them were more than human, and no mere mortal could resist them. That didn't mean her sweet Zach had as few scruples as she did. Or so she chose to believe.

"Come on," Lance said, in his normal voice. Which made sense, since he was once again wearing his normal body. How he'd changed so fast without Yvette noticing, she couldn't have said, but there it was. "We'll all be happier if we do this the easy way."

Yvette hesitated. She wanted to object. To tell him he could take his easy way and shove it up his ass because they weren't going to do whatever it was he and his whore wanted them to do no matter what. But she couldn't. The mere sight of his handsome face and bare chest melted her resolve. She wasn't the least bit proud of it, but she knew there were was nothing she wouldn't do to please him. And the same went for Zach and the little blue devil.

#

"She didn't mean that, right?" Yvette asked once the three of them had gathered in the living room once more. "That it's our `job' to hurt our friends?"

Lance regarded her silently, as though she might unask the question if he made her feel awkward enough. If he felt the cold that had bothered him before, it didn't show, though he wore nothing now but a pair of thin drawstring pants. His nipples weren't even hard. Not that Yvette was looking anywhere but at his face, of course. Because there was nothing distracting about that bare chest, strong and hairy and broad and perfect as it was, anyway. No, all her attention was on the cold blue eyes telling her to unask her question.

"Who are you guys, exactly?" Zach asked. He had his back to the fire, as though its warmth might give him strength. Or maybe he just figured he looked a little more imposing bathed in an orange glow. Which, to be fair, he kinda did. And less like the man she'd thought might be another manifestation of the same entity. Though both had black hair, fair skin, blue eyes, and relatively similar physiques, one was cold and dangerous, the other warm and comforting. "And what do you want with us?"

The hard look directed at Yvette a moment ago fell upon Zach. Then Lance slowly grew more monstrous. He didn't change all the way back to the towering wolfman, but he grew a foot taller, sprouted tons of white fur, and his tight-lipped mouth turned into a snarling muzzle. The arms crossed over his chest grew freakishly long in proportion to his body.

"I'm not scared of you," Zach said. A faint quiver in his voice belied the words, but he kept his back straight and his gaze did not waver. Yvette almost believed him.

Whether Lance did was another matter though. He gave no indication one way or the other. Neither did he complete his transformation. Or reverse it, for that matter. He just stood there, staring at Zach, more man than wolf but terrifying all the same.

Had she found his monstrous form attractive not a minute ago? What was wrong with her? When he wore a man's body, Lance epitomized sex appeal. But in his other form, he became emblematic of all the reasons children asked their parents to keep a light on at night. Having managed to stomp Bad Yvette down for moment, she felt only revulsion and terror.

After a fashion, Zach said, "If you were going to kill us, you would have already."

Yvette felt like the sun had broken through the clouds. Their night might have taken a dark turn, but there was a barrier up ahead. They'd only travel so far down this road. Terror gave way to anxiety. Yes, Lance was a monster. A man to be feared rather than desired. But neither he nor his blue bitch would hurt them.

"He's got a point," she said.

Lance turned back to her. His eyes glowed more and more intensely and soon she had to look away. "We didn't come here to kill you," Lance said after she did.

"Just to make us kill our friends," Zach said.

No reply came.

"Fuck you," Yvette said, stepping closer to the man she should have chosen earlier. When he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, it felt right and good and familiar. As if they'd been together forever. She knew how absurd that was, but didn't much care. Nothing had made much sense since they'd gotten out of their trucks. "Get the hell out of our cabin."

"It's not

your

cabin," Lance replied.

"I don't really care what the white man did to your ancest-"

He actually looked

confused

. She was prepared for him to interrupt her with a bark of laughter. Haughty, dismissive, arrogant laughter. But confusion?

"What do you think I am?" he asked. His voice remained deep, but not as much as before. And the commanding tone was gone. If anything, there was a hint of amusement.

"How should we know?" Zach asked before she could reply. "You've hardly told us anything about you. And most of what you have told us was a lie."

By way of response, Lance finished the transition from man to monster. He reached towards them and extended his claws, the points coming to rest a few inches away from the tops of their heads. Yvette's knees buckled and it was all she could do to keep from screaming. Zach's confidence that he wasn't going to hurt them suddenly made her feel as safe and protected as a shield made from cardboard and aluminum foil might have.

"Loooook innssside," the wolf snarled.

Its hands withdrew and Yvette's sense that she might find out what fruit went through on its way to becoming a smoothie lifted. But the blazing blue eyes and sharp canine teeth left no room for genuine relief. Only a slight easing of the tightness in her throat.

There was nothing

sexy

about the creature before them. Not in the least. As soon as this was over, she was going seek out a mental health professional. Or find some way to exorcise Bad Yvette, if that was what it took. She couldn't go through life battling the sorts of urges she'd felt that night. Not after knowing that things like Lance existed.

"The thought scares you," Lance continued. "But its truth won't be denied."

"Are we playing nice down here?" the blue bitch asked as she entered the room. Her heels clopped distinctly on the hardwood. Yvette wondered why she hadn't heard them on the stairs. "I thought we agreed I would get to be the mean one."