All of a sudden, Sophia gasped sharply and clutched her bloodied forearm. Teeth clenching pain shot up her arm and burned at the hollow beteween her chest and her shoulder. Her knees wobbled as the pain intensified. She fell to the ground. "Aagh!" she screamed and twisted in the dirt.
Drake, his eyes instantly alert, crashed through the underbrush and tore out of the wolf body just in time to stop, human again, above her. "Sophia!" He dropped to his knees, on leg on either side of her body. He shook her by the shoulders, but her face continued to mottle red, and the best she could do was groan and bare her teeth. "Sophia!"
The rain fizzled away in mock relief, but under the darkness of the night clouds, Sophia writhed in pain. What was happening? A moment later Ben appeared behind Drake's shoulder. He frowned down at Sophia's pain. "What's up?"
It all came him. Flashes of his bloody, wretched dreams gruellingly thrashed through his mind. First, the face of Steven Goodyear, mouth open and gasping in desparation, then Travis Fohart, Ben Stankle, George Benton... all of them curdled in horror.
Sophia had been bitten.
Sophia had been bitten.
Sophia had been bitten.
"Oh, crap." Drake ripped off the more stained sleeve of Sophia's dirty blouse, tearing off part of her collar as well. She was bruised on her collar bone, but otherwise her shoulder was shapely and perfect. He cleared his mind and his eyes ran down her arm to her elbow. Just benieth it was a swollen, open wound where canine teeth had cut through and shredded her flesh.
Steven huffed his way through a cluster of palmettos, still in the form of a wolf. He sniffed delicately at Sophia's arm and turned his gaze to his commander. His question was clear. Was she now one of them? The enemy?
The clouds parted and gave way to a crescent moon. There was hardly enough of it to breath. He could do only one of two things. He could contact the elders as he would have before in a crisis, or he could try to save Sophia. There was only one problem. No one acted without the Cheif.
Except Drake.
Knowing he needed to conserve as much energy as possible to succeed, Drake shifted only his gums, saliva, and teeth. The rest of his pack, standing round him, did not question his decision. Those who had not yet shifted into human form did so, even Steven without complaint. Ben sat down, leaning against a tree. George and Jack rested with crossed legs. Travis laid down completely. All of them tried to make themselves comfortable and relaxed on the wet, cluttered ground.
Drake gently lifted Sophia's injured arm and brought it to his face. Terrified and in pain, she fought him only weakly; she was wearing out. Any longer, and her transformation would begin.
Drake clamped his eyes closed and sank his teeth into the bite. Sophia cried out pitifully, but her struggle was fruitless. After a good twenty seconds, Drake pulled himself back. He wanted to be sure more of his DNA was left in the wound than the Bat's. He watched with his hands at his sides as her pain only intensified. That was a good sign. He stood up and stepped to the side. He nodded to Ben, and the largest of the group stooped down and scooped Sophia into his arms. Tears were streaming down her face and getting caught in Ben's arm hair. Drake wished Sophia was coherent to more than just the pain so that she could laugh at him.
"Is it gonna work, Drake?" Steven asked, trotting next to him as they turned back for the cave. "That's what you did to transform me and the rest of the guys, but we weren’t bit before, either. Is she gonna be some kind of hybrid or something?"
Drake shoved Jack away from him. "There are no hybrids, you imbecile. She becomes either one or the other, but if there is too much of a similarity between the amounts of each DNA, she dies."
"Oh, crap, that would suck." Steven shook his head, undeterred by Drake's harsh treatment.
"Will you shut up?" Drake punched him in the jaw, sending the boy sprawling into the saws of a palmetto bush. "You are so stupid. It would more than freaking ‘suck.’ Don't you think I know that? Stop trying to say what I would or would not feel. You are such a moron."
Steven's skin was thicker than a human's, but the razor-sharp stems still stung. He pushed himself up, but this time followed a few paces behind Drake to brood. "Well, forgive me for trying to relate."
"Don't relate, boy," Ben suggested, "Drake's not the type to take help, and you're not any good at it anyway."
"Don't relate, boy," Ben suggested, "Drake's not the type to take help, and you're not any good at it anyway."
Drake paid no more attention to his pack. He was being a jerk, and he knew it. However, his attention was drawn to one thing only: Sophia was dying in his arms.
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