I've been working on this piece off and on for quite a while, but I'm not really certain where to go with it. So, I give... Take a look and let me know what you think.

Past a row of city-planted trees, Penelope bolted down the sidewalk, her dark hair flying in waves behind her. Into a dark alley near an abandoned tobacco warehouse, she scrambles around a pile of wooden pallets, grasping a broken two by two wooded slat and whirling around. I watch as she readies herself for the inevitable. Her ample breasts heave under the stress of breathing. Her face stricken in terror. Behind her stands a wire fence topped with a string of barbs she has no hope of clearing. In front of her, the oncoming doom. Teeth bared in a scowl not fitting a woman as beautiful as she, her fingers clench the wooden slat. Her knuckles whiten and all of her muscles tense.

I feel my own body stiffen as I look on from above, watching as the object of Penelope’s fear advances. She takes a step backward as she readies the swing like some sort of samurai warrior. Barely five feet away, the cause for all concern leaps at her. Penelope swings hard, landing a good hit against the head of her attacker. The thing yelps, jumps back for a split second, and then springs forward as if nothing happened. Penelope screams fill my ears as she pulls back and swings again, this time she misses her target and gives her predator the opportunity it’s been waited for. Her wails echo against the abandoned building as the firm flesh of her leg surrenders to the sharp teeth of her four-legged beast.

I feel my heart pound as adrenaline flood my veins, urging me to interrupt. I push the reflex aside, vowing to keep my distance. Another scream and I turn away.

I can make it stop. All of it. But, then what?

A ring echoes into the air.

“Damn cell phone.”

The four-legged beast below perks up its canine ears. I curse under my breath when the thing spooks and lets go, retreating back into the cover of night. I open the flip phone just enough to close it again, hanging up on the moron who had the gall to dial my number, and gaze back down at her.

Pale and bleeding, Penelope slides down the wired fence clutching her leg. Her chest heaves and perspiration beads over her forehead.

Shock is already setting in. If she doesn’t get medical attention soon, she’ll be dead in less than an hour. Do something!

I pull my cell phone back out and dial the numbers. “Nine, one, one. What’s your emergency?”

“Dog attack. Fifty-one thirty, Redwood Lane, near the old tobacco warehouse. Better hurry. This one doesn’t look very good.”

“I’m dispatching an ambulance as we speak. Can you tell me your name?”

“Afraid not, sweetheart. Just make sure they don’t waste time getting here.”

Flipping the phone closed and stuffing it back into my pocket, I turn to the shadowy figure melting over my boots. A low, throaty growl filters from it into my ears as it glides its flank against my pant leg. I reached down and slid my hand over its thick, rough fur. It emits a pacified growl, turning on its heels, and facing me.

“At ease, Rake.”

Bright green irises flash in the dimness of night and the shadow wriggles in the dark like a large man trying to pull himself out from an undersized suit. I watch as four legs tremble and lengthen, morphing into two feet and two hands as the form in front of me becomes human. I shed my overcoat and pass it to him as he quickly covers himself, wiping the blood red color from his mouth onto the sleeve and then swiping at the cut on his forehead.

I frown. “I just had that dry cleaned.”

He grins, his lips pulling away from blood stained teeth as he leans over to catch another glimpse of Penelope.

“Nice taste,” Rake said, meeting my glare. “Why didn’t you just do it yourself?”

“I know her.”

“Never stopped you before.”

A siren blares in the night. The ambulance. Its scream echoes against the brick and mortar that encompasses its trek. Red lights flash, reflecting off of the glass of the surrounding buildings and creating a strobe effect around the alley where Penelope lay.

“I never was in love before.”

I kept my eyes down, not meeting Rake’s. I didn’t need to see the look of sarcasm on his face to know it was there.

“It’s a good thing we’ve always kept everything on a purely platonic level.”

I ignore him, turning to watch the rescue workers work on the woman beneath me. Her breaths become more shallow as her carotid pulse threads swiftly, trying to recover from the trauma I allowed Rake to induce. Unable to stand her misery, I direct my attention to Rake.

“It’s better in the long run.”

“A lot of things are,” he replies, “but are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

I shrugged, walking off.

“You could at least let me have your boots,” Rake grumbled, landing on the cold asphalt. “My feet are freezing.”

“No and you weren’t complaining about them a minute ago.”

I spotted Rake vigorously rubbing the toes on his left foot as I take the effortless twenty feet leap from the fire escape to the street. He rejoins my stride in seconds.

“I was busy a minute ago. Remember? I don’t get cold when I’m busy.”

Glancing down at the blood smears soaked in with the dark fibers of my coat, I groan. Another dry cleaning bill.

“Just keep the coat. Okay? And you can crash at my place for the rest of the night.”

Rake flashes me another grin.

“Just for the night, Rake,” I mumbled.

“Come on,” he pleaded, “You know my place is being renovated. Besides, it’ll be a few weeks before she even turns up on our plane. You can at least give me that.”

“Fine. You have until your place is finished or she comes looking for me, whichever comes first. Got it?”

He shrugged, peering around the corner at his victim. “She may not come to you at all.”

“I know.”

“It may be me.”

I grimace. “I know.”

“Not a man for guarantees, are you?”

I shook my head and watched as he disappeared in the direction of my apartment. Rake would be occupying my place for as long as it took to kick him out, but I owed him.

I looked on from the corner of the building as the rescue workers load Penelope into the ambulance. In moments, the red strobes zip by me as the apparatus speeds away, sirens blasting as it blazes its trail to the main highway.

“See you in January, love, when the cold wind will be nothing compared to the Wolf moon.”

The darkness swallowed the light of the strobes and I ducked behind a dumpster, letting the lycanthrope part of myself consume my human form as I headed for the wooded area that would give me nourishment.

January, Lycan. Just hold on until then. Maybe she’ll come.