“Sure there is. You hit my car with your truck, and you don’t look like the type who pays back his debts.”
“What did you just say to me, little bitch?”
At the rate my virus spiked, she’d be ready to rumble and then some given a few minutes and a single iota of provocation. “I said you hit my car with your truck, and you don’t look like the type who pays back his debts.”
“I’m going to make you regret that.”
I remembered those words, as did my virus. The unwanted memory stabbed at me, hitting with the same force as the blows that’d led to my infection and weeks in the hospital.
The truck’s passenger door opened, and a second man, lithe and moving with cat-like grace, joined his friend. The faint hint of a feline teased my nose, but rather than rile my wolf like most cats did, all the smell did was piss her off even more.
Provocation, check.
I wouldn’t even need the few minutes; my virus wanted blood, and she wanted it fresh, hot, and spilled on the asphalt without her having to come into contact with the virus tainting it.
I took her reaction to mean both lycanthropes classified as ineligible bachelors, which worked for me. Dealing with Wayne classifying as an eligible bachelor would cause me enough problems.
“Daryl, deal with the man. I’ll educate the bitch.”
Wayne snorted. “You followed her from Manhattan, didn’t you? You smelled a lady lycanthrope without mate markers, so you tailed her to get somewhere a little more remote before making your move. Not remote enough with the amount of traffic here, so you’re not all that bright.”
I hated the scent markers marking mated lycanthropes. If I wanted to wear a sign around my neck stating I hadn’t gotten laid since I’d been infected with the virus, I would. But no, my damned scent advertised my state as an unclaimed female.
Stupid virus.
For a rare change, my opinion didn’t offend my virus.
Wayne and the brute engaged in a glaring match, one that would end in bloodshed if I let it. Bloodshed would simplify matters for me.
If Wayne bled, I’d legally be able to tear the brute apart, and I could blame my unwilling companion on my behavior. The law took the defense of another seriously, and when two males fought over a single female, bloodshed happened. As long as the bloodshed didn’t involve uninfected humans, the cops wouldn’t care much.
How much depended on a lot of factors, including if I left any corpses on the ground when I was finished with the pair.
“What’s it to you?”
“I enjoy teaching piece of shit lycanthropes like you how to behave.”
Next time, I needed to remember to give better instructions. I hadn’t told Wayne he couldn’t posture and cause problems. I hadn’t told him to play nice with the idiot who had rear-ended me.
I definitely hadn’t told him to avoid bloodshed.
Oops.
While the CDC discouraged lycanthropes from fighting, especially alongside a busy highway, the law favored single females who didn’t want to be saddled with the first male to cross her path. My virus wanted to get in on the action, and I saw no reason to discourage her. Since the asshole lycanthropes in the truck wanted to issue threats, I’d teach them their manners.
I closed the distance, allowed my virus to take hold, and welcomed her at her full strength. Transforming during a fight hurt like hell, but in the moments it took me to reach the brute of the pair, I’d exchanged the illusion of humanity for a wolf’s muzzle and fangs, a thick coat of fur, and claws capable of tearing apart steel if I put my mind and muscles to the task.
I grabbed a handful of his scruffy shirt, crouched, and heaved, lobbing the bastard over the roof of his truck onto his feline friend.
Then, as I could be an asshole and needed a new pair of shoes anyway, I bounded over the truck, landed on the fallen pair, and clubbed them both over the head.
“Care to reevaluate your position, boys?” I growled, and I made sure to show them my fangs. “Next time, I put you through the engine of your fancy truck.”
Shock had a smell, and they both reeked of it. I sneezed, and had I been a better person, I might’ve cared my saliva splattered them both in the face. Huffing my disgust over having played the ace up my sleeve, I rose, snarled at both, and returned to my vehicle. “Fuck the insurance, Wayne. If I stay here with those braindead wastes of air, I’ll kill them both and dump their bodies in the ditch. Write their license plate number down, and I’ll give the CDC a call so they know I had to correct two stupid infected idiots.”
“I already took care of that. I took pictures of them and their truck, and I made sure I got the front plate.” Wayne returned to the passenger side and got into my car.
I joined him, and without bothering to wait to see what the assholes would do, I started the engine and merged back onto the road. “If you enjoy talking to the CDC, you can give them a call and notify them some jerk lycanthropes weren’t playing nice, so I educated them on the side of the highway.”
