Black Beast Read Online Free
Author: Nenia Campbell
Tags: Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Paranormal, Witches, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Teen & Young Adult, Paranormal & Urban, witch, shape shifter, witch clan, shapechanger, witches and magic, shapechange, shiftershaper, shapeshifter paranormal, shape change, shape changers, witches and vampires, shape changing, shape shift, witch council, shape changer
and pelting her with so many questions she wanted to dig her nails into his arms and tell him to shut up.
The shades hadn't been there, though. She would have remembered that.
Which means something happened between then and now.
She stared at the nerdy boy with the oily skin and the greasy hair, and found only dread.
Something has changed.
A finger poked sharply into her side and she yelped.
“Paging Catherine Pierce, report to home planet.”
“
Don't do that
.”
“Whoa, lay off the steroids, girlfriend. Okay? You've been staring at that door like a psychopath for the last thirty seconds. It's fucking creepy as hell.”
“Just remembering something Chase said to me.”
“Gross,” Sharon said. “And what words of wisdom did he impart to you, O Chosen One?”
He'd asked her what she thought her superpower would be. Not that he cared what she thought. No, his sole purpose in asking her had been to tell her more about himself, and his desire to manipulate people's emotions psychically. She had laughed it off, torn between feeling sorry for him and wanting to run away, because the smell oozing from his pores made her feel slightly sick. She was still waiting on the grumpy chef to refill the hot pan of meatloaf, though, so feeling sorry for him won out and she said, grudgingly, “Not mind control specifically, then?”
Chase had shaken his head at her. As if
she
were the one in need of pity. Which had pissed her the fuck off, at least at first, but her rage had been lost in the face of what he'd said next.
“People need freewill—or, uh, they need to be under the illusion they have freewill. People who are scared act so stupid, they don't have freewill. Not anymore. It's amazing how many rights people give up of their own volition just to feel safe. How far they go to rationalize it. Mr. Bordello told me, uh—”
She waited, but Chase had stopped talking. Just run down, like clockwork or a piece of old machinery.
Catherine told Sharon the story. Sharon sighed and tossed her head. “You do know he has the saddest crush on you, right?”
“You're not hearing me out.”
“Of course I am. Look. Chase has heard about your reputation. We all have. The teachers don't exactly make their hatred of you a secret. So he probably figured the tough-guy act would impress your big, bad self. Obviously he failed. Miserably. Big fat surprise.”
“Yeah, but who talks like that? He sounds like—”
She wished she could better voice her doubts. But she couldn't. Not without violating the Third Rule.
Predator?
Prey supplied helpfully.
Yes. Yes, Chase
had
sounded like a Predator.
But Sharon wouldn't understand that. She'd just give her a heaping dose of the stank-eye and ask if she was feeling all right. Catherine fumbled for an analogy her human friend would be able to relate to.
“— he sounded like a dictator,” she said at last.
“A dictator? Please. He couldn't dictate a speech. Have you heard him talk?” She screwed up her face and intoned in a nasally stammer that really did sound like him, “Hi, uh, my name's, uh, Chase. I guess Ill, uh, be taking over your country now. Is that, uh, okay?”
“Very funny, skank.” Catherine turned her face away so Sharon wouldn't see the smile playing on her lips.
On the other side of the window, Chase and the shades entered the small coffee house next door. A thought occurred to her, and she was right back to frowning.
“Isn't Mr. Bordello the name of that new teacher?”
“Yeah. Emilio Bordello. He's taking over for Mrs. Garcia while she's on maternity leave.”
Mr. Bordello?
She bit her lip.
Is that his real name?
Humans were so strange.
“What's he like?” She heard herself asking.
“I have him for AP sociology. He is
fine
. I think he works out. He's really buff—and young. He won't tell us his age, but I swear he's
The shades hadn't been there, though. She would have remembered that.
Which means something happened between then and now.
She stared at the nerdy boy with the oily skin and the greasy hair, and found only dread.
Something has changed.
A finger poked sharply into her side and she yelped.
“Paging Catherine Pierce, report to home planet.”
“
Don't do that
.”
“Whoa, lay off the steroids, girlfriend. Okay? You've been staring at that door like a psychopath for the last thirty seconds. It's fucking creepy as hell.”
“Just remembering something Chase said to me.”
“Gross,” Sharon said. “And what words of wisdom did he impart to you, O Chosen One?”
He'd asked her what she thought her superpower would be. Not that he cared what she thought. No, his sole purpose in asking her had been to tell her more about himself, and his desire to manipulate people's emotions psychically. She had laughed it off, torn between feeling sorry for him and wanting to run away, because the smell oozing from his pores made her feel slightly sick. She was still waiting on the grumpy chef to refill the hot pan of meatloaf, though, so feeling sorry for him won out and she said, grudgingly, “Not mind control specifically, then?”
Chase had shaken his head at her. As if
she
were the one in need of pity. Which had pissed her the fuck off, at least at first, but her rage had been lost in the face of what he'd said next.
“People need freewill—or, uh, they need to be under the illusion they have freewill. People who are scared act so stupid, they don't have freewill. Not anymore. It's amazing how many rights people give up of their own volition just to feel safe. How far they go to rationalize it. Mr. Bordello told me, uh—”
She waited, but Chase had stopped talking. Just run down, like clockwork or a piece of old machinery.
Catherine told Sharon the story. Sharon sighed and tossed her head. “You do know he has the saddest crush on you, right?”
“You're not hearing me out.”
“Of course I am. Look. Chase has heard about your reputation. We all have. The teachers don't exactly make their hatred of you a secret. So he probably figured the tough-guy act would impress your big, bad self. Obviously he failed. Miserably. Big fat surprise.”
“Yeah, but who talks like that? He sounds like—”
She wished she could better voice her doubts. But she couldn't. Not without violating the Third Rule.
Predator?
Prey supplied helpfully.
Yes. Yes, Chase
had
sounded like a Predator.
But Sharon wouldn't understand that. She'd just give her a heaping dose of the stank-eye and ask if she was feeling all right. Catherine fumbled for an analogy her human friend would be able to relate to.
“— he sounded like a dictator,” she said at last.
“A dictator? Please. He couldn't dictate a speech. Have you heard him talk?” She screwed up her face and intoned in a nasally stammer that really did sound like him, “Hi, uh, my name's, uh, Chase. I guess Ill, uh, be taking over your country now. Is that, uh, okay?”
“Very funny, skank.” Catherine turned her face away so Sharon wouldn't see the smile playing on her lips.
On the other side of the window, Chase and the shades entered the small coffee house next door. A thought occurred to her, and she was right back to frowning.
“Isn't Mr. Bordello the name of that new teacher?”
“Yeah. Emilio Bordello. He's taking over for Mrs. Garcia while she's on maternity leave.”
Mr. Bordello?
She bit her lip.
Is that his real name?
Humans were so strange.
“What's he like?” She heard herself asking.
“I have him for AP sociology. He is
fine
. I think he works out. He's really buff—and young. He won't tell us his age, but I swear he's
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