Blood and Chocolate

When Vivian woke on Sunday, the air in her room was cool and sweet, and the sunlight that stole between the curtains was pale and innocent. She could hear the radio playing softly downstairs. It was all a dream, she thought, and took a long, deep breath. Aiden still loved her. There had been no blood on her face.

The moment she entered the kitchen Vivian knew she'd been lying to herself again. There were dark circles under Esmé's eyes and her hair was haphazardly gathered back in a single comb. She was still in her nightgown. "Feeling better, baby?" Esmé asked vaguely, and stared into the distance as she sipped her coffee.

"What's wrong?" Vivian asked, dreading the answer.

"They found a body in back of Tooley's Saturday morning."

No one had told Esmé that she'd been at the scene, Vivian realized. "So?" she said, her heart thumping.

Esmé set her mug down. "The cook who found the body described it to me," she answered. "Unless something's escaped from the zoo, the killer was one of us."

Vivian tried to look shocked. "Who would do that?"

"That's what we need to find out, because if this keeps on happening it'll be West Virginia all over again."

"But this is the city," Vivian said. "They'll think it's a psycho."

"Maybe the police and the newspapers will put it down to a psycho," Esmé answered. "But there's always someone who can put two and two together and come up with werewolf. And what if he fancies himself a hero?"

"Maybe it won't happen again." I won't let it happen, Vivian thought.

Esmé shook her head. "I'd like to think that, but it doesn't work that way."

Vivian fought down panic. "What do you mean?"

"Once someone goes over the edge and gets a taste, he can't seem to stop. It happened in New Orleans. That's why the pack moved to West Virginia years ago. And then it happened there, too. Your father said we could live in peace as long as we kept to ourselves. He was wrong. Now I wonder if we ever can have peace. The stories the humans tell say we're cursed. Maybe they're right."

Vivian's mouth was dry. She could hardly speak. "Even if the killer is seen, even if the killer is tracked and caught, they won't know there are others, will they?"

"I don't know, Vivian. I don't know where this will lead. We're not invulnerable. You should know that after what you've seen."

Vivian hung on desperately to the way Esmé said "he" over and over; the word put a thankful distance between her and the body. She couldn't stand the shame if her mother knew. What if she'd brought death to her people, all because she'd thought a human could love her?

The doorbell rang.

"Bloody Moon," Esmé said, swiping at her hair. "That's Gabriel."

Vivian's voice caught in her throat. "What's he doing here?"

"Don't worry," Esmé snapped. "Not to court you, Miss Priss. He wants to know what I found out last night."

Then why didn't he ask you on the phone? Vivian thought. How could she face Gabriel, who always seemed to see right through her?

"Go let him in while I tidy up," Esmé ordered.

When Vivian opened the door she was relieved to see Rudy pulling into the driveway. Gabriel turned to greet him before she was obliged to speak. Rudy slapped Gabriel on the back and ushered him in.

She was going to disappear upstairs but Gabriel called her back. "You should be in on this, too."

What did he mean by that? Did he know something?

Esmé came downstairs wearing a short sundress. Even  disaster  didn't  deter  her where   Gabriel was concerned.  Weren't you turning him over to me, Mom? Vivian thought.

They settled in the living room, where Esmé described in detail the condition of the corpse. Vivian didn't want to hear, but she couldn't do anything to shut the words out. I wouldn't do that, she thought. I couldn't. But again she remembered the blood on her sheets.

"The people at the bar think the killer was a rabid dog or a big cat someone was keeping as a pet that got loose," Esmé said.

Vivian spoke up although she'd not meant to. "Maybe that's what the cops think." She remembered that Gregory had mentioned a policeman mumbling about wild animals.