"I'll see you later, okay? We can figure this out," Raya promised again as she turned into the parking lot of the library to drop Lana off at her car--at least, the car that should have been there.

"What the fuck?" Lana growled. "Could this day not get any worse? Wait here a minute."

Raya nodded, but Lana wasn't looking. She was already climbing out of the car. Raya could tell Lana was mad enough to spit fire just by the way she flung the door open and stomped the pavement.

"Don't eat anyone," Raya called after her.

Lana stopped, took a few deep, calming breaths, and carried on. Without even bothering to wipe the blood from her shoulder, she trotted straight into the library like she was above it all. She was not going to give them any satisfaction of knowing that losing the job actually broke her heart. Today she was a new person...literally.

She couldn't stop herself from slamming her hand on the counter like the snooty art guy had done to her the day before. They needed a stinking bell, but if they'd had one, Lana would probably have broken it. Her slaps weren't as girly as they once were -- not with the supernatural blood flowing through her veins. Cracks split in the thick wooden counter where she'd put the smack down, however, she was okay with that. She smiled smugly on the inside.

The chubby, firing, old librarian wondered out of her office with annoyance written all over her face.

"Lana, I thought I made it clear-"

"Shove it, old lady. Where's my car?" Lana demanded with hot blue flames burning in her eyes.

"It's towed, dear," the woman replied, seeming to lose her nerve at the sight of Lana, angry and bloody. "You know we don't allow people to park over night."

"I'm not just people! I gave you five years of my life. The least you could do was let me park my car here one damn night!" Her voice was echoing through the huge library causing people to glare up from their books and computer screens. Their anger at being disturbed soon waned the way Miss Richardson's anger had, and they were gaping at her in horror due to either her physical or mental state, or a combination of both.

Lana plowed on, "I gave you five years of my life, and it didn't mean a thing!"

That's what's wrong with people - humans, she thought, they don't appreciate anybody or anything, wouldn't even realize they have anything good or worth fighting for if it was right in front of them.

Miss Richardson glared at Lana and took tiny steps moving sideways to make her way to the phone as though a small child would if they were trying to sneak into the kitchen to steal a piece of cake.

"Hold it, chubby!" Lana spat, hopping over the counter in one swift leap and jerking the lady up into the air. Lana held her ex-boss there with ease - she might as well have been a mirror that Lana was looking into to see if she had anything in her teeth.

"Now where the fuck is my car?" she shrieked.

The petrified librarian couldn't make out any words; she just shivered and close her eye so tight that it forced even more wrinkles to appear on her forehead. Lana soon realized this was going nowhere. Everyone had rose to their feet, crowding around to watch, causing Lana to feel awkward and uneasy.

She could have turned on them all, ripped them to shreds and feasted on their flesh until she threw up yet again today. Instead, she lowered the old lady, setting her down softly. Then Lana brushed her blouse flat, causing a tiny piece of raw flesh to fall down and land on her shoe. It was so small and dry, it almost resembled a scab. She flicked her foot and the rotting flesh disappeared into the small brown carpet behind the desk.

"Where is my car?" she said more calmly. "I won't ask you again."

Miss Richardson reached over mechanically and snatched a card from the desk. Rowdy's Towing and Repair, it said. She handed it to Lana with trembling hands and did her best to avoid skin to skin contact. Lana took it so fast it was as though it had just disappeared, but there it was, in her hands.

"Now that wasn't so hard was it, twat?" she spat before she turned away and stomped towards the double doors, then suddenly stopped, turned to the crowd of nosy, amused citizens, and added, "What the fuck are you looking at?"

Lana growled at them, causing them to gasp and step back. Satisfied, she continued her heated way out of the library mumbling, "Later, shit-hole," under her breath.

Outside, her sister was still waiting in the car. She opened the door and flopped down into the seat like a spoiled nine year old who, this one time, didn't get her way.

"You good?" Raya asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Lana huffed, handing her sister the card she had obtained.

Raya gave an unpleasant look, took her tiny fingers, and pinched her nose.

"I'm sorry, sis, but you are going to have to do something! You stink so damn bad!" she complained. Perhaps it was worse with her new wolf senses.

Lana looked down and just seemed to have realized what a complete and utter mess she was- ugh! And she'd gone inside looking that way. Oh well, she thought, a girls gotta eat and I guess I'm a messy eater. She shrugged. The thought caused her to laugh out loud.

"What's so funny, you stinky bitch?" Raya asked playfully.

"Bite your tongue," Lana teased back. "Nothing. Let's just go. Car first, then shower."

Raya put the car into drive but could not help but ask, "You promise you'll take a shower? You seem a bit out of it. I know we're sort of animals now, but we don't have to smell like one..."

" Yessss," Lana hissed, growing annoyed. "Now shut up about it. Let's go."

They arrived at Rowdy's Towing and Repair, where the places name was displayed on a shitty sign in even shittier big, crusty letters. They were black and cracked - kind of how Halloween makeup looks the next day if you just so happen to pass out from being drunk or whatever the case may be.

"Do you need me to wait?" Raya asked.

"Nah, this is the place. I'm getting that damn car," she promised.

"Okay. Hey!" Raya called out before Lana could slam the door shut. "Don't snack on them, okay? We need to keep a low profile so people don't find out what we are."

"Yeah, yeah," Lana walked off. She didn't intend to eat anyone else today; she was still full from scarfing down Robby anyway.

Lana pushed open the entrance door and startled at the annoying buzz the door made to alert the mechanic inside that they had a potential customer. A man with black smears and smudges on his face approached her, whipping his hands on an already dirty cloth.

"Can I help ya, sweet thing?" He smirked down at her, a glint in his eyes.

Ugh, what a pig, she thought. She flung the card at him, causing it to bounce off his chest just to show him she was no "sweet thing."

"Yeah, as a matter of fact you can, sweet-tits!" she shot back, just as snarkily as he'd been. Cutting the shit, she demanded, "where is my damn car?"

The grimy man tilted his head back and the most annoying laugh emerged from him. He began to smack his knee like an old person does when they get really happy - as if they just found out they were going to be released from the nursing home then told the whole nursing home thing was some kind of hidden camera reality show, that they'd actually won a brand new home and a hundred-thousand dollars cash money for being a good sport - yeah, that kind of happy.

"Whew-wee. You sure are something! Come on back," he said, using only his dirty elbow to point in the direction which they needed to walk, meanwhile still wiping his hands with the dirty cloth as if he was going to make any progress.

They walked out back, and Lana's eyes scanned the lot, spotting nine cars; some were crushed, but some looked okay. She saw a few Hondas, a Dodge Stratus, and, yeah, there was Lana's baby. Her car was the only thing she owned that valued over a hundred bucks, a 1966 metallic silver Stingray Corvette. It had been given to her in her grandfather's will, and words couldn't express how relieved she felt seeing that her car was there and unharmed...on the outside. She walked up to it and tried the door. Still locked. She couldn't see inside, because the windows were too tinted - just how she liked them, but she assumed the inside was unscathed as well, unless-

Lana ran her hand along the right tire guard where her keys should be snapped into her safety holder. She found it much easier to leave them there than carry them around and keep up with them all day. Nothing. She turned on the grimy man.

"Where are my keys?"

"You mean these?" he teased, playfully dangling them by her old 'kiss me I'm a librarian' keychain with his greasy pointer and Middle finger.

Lana took a deep breath to get her anger in check. 'Don,t kill him, okay?' She remembered Raya saying. She calmed herself, took three steps towards him, and demanded in a dangerous I'm-a-werewolf-and-I-could-eat-your-face tone, "give me my keys."

"Now, honey, you ain't going to get anything acting like that," he claimed with that oh, so annoying laugh.

"Listen. Give me my keys! Now!" she said, trying her hardest to stay calm, but he was really working on her last nerve.

"Oooooooh, you're a rowdy one! I like 'em rowdy, that's why they call me Rowdy," he said, and she was disgusted by the last part. To her annoyance, he started to dance a weird, taunting little jig as an insult to her threat, like some crazy Rumplestiltskin nut. Lana's blood began to run hot and heart began to race. She could feel the tingling that she'd felt before she wolfed out the first time. She stared down at the ground, trying to suppress the feelings of rage, but before she could help it, her fangs let out with such force that they stung her bottom lip. The taste of her own blood only intensified the situation.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" he asked, taking a few steps closer to her. As he did, she shifted her stance, and his eyes were drawn away from her face to her chest.

"What the fucks is on your clothes?" he sputtered.

Lana was already losing it, panting, "Just give me my keys. I won't ask again." This time, her voice carried a rustic demonic tone.

"...is that blood? What's wrong with you? Are you some kind of freak?" he asked, watching the small woman stare at the ground and pant, wearing blood-soiled clothes.

Lana lowered herself slowly as if she was going to kneel before him.

"Hey, bitch! What's your deal?" He demanded in a not-so-teasing mood now.

Lana leaped up with rapid speed, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Rowdy raised his hand and grabbed a handful of her hair, totally caught off guard and thinking of nothing better to do on the spot for self defense. Before he had a chance to pull, she sunk her teeth into his soft throat, ripping, tearing, and pulling from left to right. The blood squirted out the way water had when she poked a water ballon with needles as a kid to spray Raya with it, except this time, it was much messier. Lana released and he stood there a moment with terrified wide eyes, then finally falling to the ground with one hard thump.

Lana stood above looking down at her fresh kill, chewing what she had bit off of him, watching the blood still squirting out with each remaining pump of his heart. She knelt down and lapped at it thirstily, enjoying the salty, yet copper taste with each lap. Satisfied, she raised up, looked down at the pig of a man, and spat, "all you had to do was give me my damn keys, but no. Look what you did to yourself. Tsk-tsk." She lifted his oil-stained hand and removed the keys from his clinched fist.

"Fuck you very much. I won't be back," she promised.

Sitting at a glass desk surrounded by scratch-off lotto cards, scratching his greedy heart to his content, was Gary Norris, owner and manager of Norris Ladies and, strangely enough, Norris Florists. He loved lovely things, women and flowers, and supplied both to the consumers for ridiculous prices. He was brilliant, but grimy, and he couldn't care less as long as his pockets were filling up.

He shouted with Rumplestiltskin-ish glee as he scratched off a winning thirty-dollar ticket, and his tubby tummy shook with his chuckles. Even a millionaire could stand to gain more; you don't get rich by being broke, after all.

His employees had no idea how wealthy he really was and he liked to keep it that way.

A knock on his door jarred him out of his simple bliss and he struggled to straighten his expensive toupee before bidding the visitor entrance.

"Ahh, Raya. I trust you've met with our customer and admitted your incompetence," he sneered.

Truthfully, of all his employees, he adored Raya. She was by far the loveliest, with her flowing, fiery locks and her iridescent blue eyes...which for some reason seemed bluer today - it was probably because of the sky-blue wispy goddess-style dress she wore. If he'd been a fool of a man he'd swear her teeth looked whiter and sharper when she grinned at him, but that was impossible, because he made all of the appointments for the women (he liked to know what he was spending), yet he hadn't made a dentist appointment for Raya in months.

"How wonderful to find you in good spirits," Raya said noticing his scratch-offs. She knew how he loved those, how excited he got over even the smallest win. She was hoping he'd won big, however, to lighten his mood entirely before this conversation.

"Out with it, gal. What are you diddle-daddling around for?" he demanded, aware that she was keeping something from him. He'd known her for damn near seven years, and if you don't pick up on your favorite hoe's mannerisms by then, well, you were just an idiot.

"I didn't go back to Bruce," she blurted.

"Damn it, Ray! I should not have to tell you again-"

"Oh, shut up!" she screamed, coming closer. What was that look in her eyes? The ocean had been snatched away and blue fire had replaced her irises. "He fucking attacked me."

The shaken man perked back up instantly, unwilling to show the hooker he'd felt oddly worried for a moment...maybe even...afraid.

"There's nothing wrong with you," he said with skeptical eyes.

"Not now, because it healed. You can see, it's still pink here, though." She held out her arm.

Gary ignored the fading wound and focused on her nails. They weren't right. They looked thicker, sharper. Her eyes, her teeth, her nails...

The pudgy, piggy man jumped from his chair like someone had thrown a grenade under him, or else flat out told him that a big, bad wolf was in his piggy den. The man was a lot of things, but a fool wasn't one of them.

"What happened to you, Raya?" he screeched.

Raya observed the fear and the way her boss withdrew from her, and for a moment, she was just as frightened as him.

"Shit, you can tell?" she asked.

"I can tell you ain't Raya no more..." he said. "You're some kind of she-devil!"

He stumbled over to his book shelf, which was normally full of porn magazines and Hustler novels, and pulled a cross out of a wooden box Raya always assumed held some kinky type of pocket vag. He held the cross up in front of him.

"You can't take me, bitch! You just tell that fucker I'm not ready, yet. Our deal was seventy years!" he yelled at her.

The fuck? She wondered. It sounds like he made a deal with a demon...or THE demon, the devil perhaps...now he thinks-

"A cross, Gary? Really?" she huffed nonchalantly.

"Get away!" he squealed.

He started throwing books at her, threatening her. At first she was annoyed, but she began to get more angry with each book. She was getting tired of being hit with smut.

Her teeth grew larger, and Gary's eyes were growing larger with fear to match. Her muscles ripped and distorted, sending a burning sensation through every nerve, and before she knew it, she was on him.

She sunk her she-wolf nails into his jaw, the other at his collarbone and used her wolf-strength to damn-near rip his head off. She couldn't help herself. It was like she was watching herself in a horror flick as she tore open his stomach and ate all of the tastiest parts by instinct. The heart, the liver, all if the meaty parts of his stomach and thighs - she loved thighs, she even lapped at his blood before she calmed enough for the wolf to leave her.

When she morphed back, she stared down at Gary's frozen horrified expression and she felt awful; a bit sick even. Remorseful. She'd slipped and let the wolf take reign of her. She didn't want to kill Gary, though she had been wondering if he would taste like bacon.

She cursed, looking at the mess shed made and wondering how she would get out of this one.

"My girl wants to party all the time, party all the time, party all the ti-ime-"

Raya dashed back to the desk and fished her phone out of her clutch. ALPHA was jumping at her from the caller ID.

"Great. Just what I need, right now," she said sarcastically. "And now there's blood on my phone."

She glanced around a millisecond, then guiltily licked a bit before answering.