Erin Dameron-Hill Read Online Free

gas hog and before I became a werewolf, I drove a Yaris. But I needed the room to haul around a few shape-shifters and a bigger vehicle suited that need perfectly. A full on werewolf can grow up to eight feet in height and weigh over four hundred pounds. So, I needed the torque and the space.
    I popped the trunk, (if you could call it that), and Billy placed his bike in the hold. The yellow bike shined brightly against the soft crescent moon.
    I fixed the rear-view mirror checking to make sure I could see out the window and realized I hadn’t done a thing with my hair. Oh well, I guess if I didn’t mind a rat’s nest in my hair then no one else would.
    “Billy,” I said, putting the vehicle into gear and feeling the leather grind underneath my legs, “I need you tell me what happened.”
    I glanced over at his body, hunched under the heavy pull of the seat belt. He shook his head and continued to stare out the window.
    “Please, Billy, I need to know.”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    I turned onto 436 and waited for the light to turn green. At night, the lights will always change faster because they’re based on movement detection. I was glad that I didn’t have to wait the normal five minutes for the light to change because I didn’t know how much more of Billy’s pain that I could endure.
    I don’t remember ever seeing him like this before. I wanted to comfort him, but knew that if I did, I might hurt his manly ego. And he was already hurting enough. But I couldn’t just sit here and ignore it. I had to do something.
    So, I turned on the CD player. I had remembered listening to the Doors recently and I instantly regretted that decision.
    People are Strange began to dance inside the jeep, forcing its melancholy mood deeper into the already depressed vehicle.
    I turned it off. We didn’t need help being depressed. We were already there.
    “Clyde lives down Crane’s Roost? Right?”
    Billy nodded and said, “lived.”
    I concentrated more on my driving. I should have left him at my condo instead of dragging him back to Clyde’s place to relive happier memories or to face a future that didn’t include Clyde.
    Crane’s Roost used to be a normal, middle class playground for those who couldn’t afford the ‘burbs such as Lake Mary or Heathrow, but after a few housing developments and the building of Uptown Altamonte, Crane’s Roost was now a highly regarded area. Before the downhill decay of the housing market, a one bedroom condo went for three hundred grand, nowadays, they sell for seventy thousand. Even though the prices have dropped, the neighborhood hasn’t gone into disrepair. Palm trees still line the smooth sidewalks and smooth black, asphalt roads. White lampposts exude light enough so that people can walk their dogs with bladder problems without fear from shadows. And beautiful water fountains still erupt from the small lakes that surround the neighborhood.
    As I pulled the Jeep in front of Clyde’s condo complex, I instantly wanted to turn around and go home because I could smell it, if only slightly. The foul stench of rot and decay and fresh meat exploded through my body sending passionate chills down my spine.
    I shivered slightly in the well-lit darkness and heard the passenger side door slam closed. Billy had already begun to trudge up the butterfly-bush path towards Clyde’s white door.
    My senses became fine-tuned as the smells from Clyde’s apartment gently wafted on the breeze towards me. I had only been a werewolf for two years now and I still didn’t have that great of control yet. And as that intoxicating scent of death poured through me, my body trembled even more.
    I tried to take deep breaths to calm myself down, but that wasn’t the best of ideas because the smell lingered heavily on the air and on my tongue.
    I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds. If I could hone one sense, then the others seemed to shut down slightly. And if I could shut down the smells, that