Casting Shadows

Chapter 11

Chapter 11 (Ruby's POV)

"Get your hands off of me!" I shout at Frank as he tries to shove me into Gerard's room. Even though my physical strength has been slightly heightened because of my activated werewolf curse, it's still no match to a demon's.

He successfully gets me into the room and slams the door before I have a chance to try and escape again. The atmosphere in the room feels different this time. It's not tension filled, but almost relaxing. The scent of acrylic paint fills my nostrils. In a different situation the smell would bring a smile to my face, but I know that this isn't the time to express happiness.

"Ruby," an all too familiar voice says from behind me.

I turn to face Gerard, only to find that he is not wearing a shirt, gray sweatpants being the only visible clothing article on his body. There is a smudge of black paint on his prominent jawline, it's shade matching his jet black hair. The standing canvas in front of him, along with the paint brush and palette in his hand makes him look like one of those street artists who actually have talent.

Instead of stacks of papers on his desk, it is covered in art supplies. Of the acrylic paint tubs, there are only black, white, and the primary colors. Numerous brushes, cups of water, and plenty of other things that I have no idea what they are fill the desk as well.

"Stay away from me," I spit. I try to turn the door nob to leave, but it's locked.

"I need you to listen to me," he says as he puts down his supplies and walks towards me.

I press my back against the door, hoping that I will disappear into the wood. I know that I am not successful when he takes my hand in his own and holds it close to his chest.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have forced you to activate your gene," he apologizes. Everything about him seems sincere, but there's no possible way that I'm going to trust him.

"I'm never going to forgive you, so stop trying to make it better."

His eyebrows are furrowed at just the right angle and his eyes are widened just enough to make him look innocent. "What would you say if I told you that I actually can make it better?"

"You can't reverse the curse, so just leave me alone." I shove past him, bumping my shoulder into his as I walk further into his room. There isn't a place for me to storm off to, so I'm not sure where I thought I would get by doing that.

"Don't call it a curse," he says in a defensive manner. He walks around so that he is in front of me again, looking into my soul with his hazel eyes. "You act like being a werewolf is a bad thing."

I resist the urge to slap him across the face and settle for giving him a death glare. "You turned me into a monster, of course it's a bad thing."

I turn to storm to the other side of the room, but he grabs my wrist, holding it a little too tightly. It's not painful enough for me to flinch, but it's certainly uncomfortable.

"Don't be ashamed of what species you are. You should be proud of being a werewolf."

"Well, I'm not proud. Now, tell me why I'm here."

Gerard signs in what seems to be defeat. He lets go of my wrist and walks in a circle around me before taking a step back and looking me up in down, not in a judgmental way, but curiously. "I want to paint you. Strip and stand over there in the light."

My jaw drops from his inappropriate command. I watch him walk over to his canvas and cross his arms impatiently. He motions for me to go ahead, but I refuse by shaking my head no.