Skins & Needles (COMPLETE)

Crumbling Walls Part 4

Arsen

"We're shifters," I told her at last. "All of the circles. Shit."

"Oooh man," Charlotte said, her face slightly more nervous now that the truth was out. "I mean, I was sure, but I also wasn't sure, but I had to go in with confidence according to Wikihow—"

"Charlotte!" I demanded, but something about her had me laughing instead of angry. "You're absolutely something else. I honestly can't believe you just casually figured it out."

"You know the old saying," she chirped. "Tell a girl, 'I can't tell you,' enough times and she'll... ah... tell herself?"

"I've created a monster..." I groaned, and ran a hand through my hair.

"Maybe," she pondered. "Or maybe I was already a monster, and you just let me out of my cage."

I cant turn into a fucking dire wolf and she's the monster? Oh, God, what have I fallen for?

"You're not supposed to know," I reminded her, "and this could mean serious trouble for both of us. I couldn't say anything before because if you tell our secret, the other circles, ah, how do I put this mildly?"

"Kick you out?" she guessed.

"Brutally kill you in a public demonstration, but yeah, that too."

"Oh, I can take it back," she said quickly. "You can't turn into any other beast than a sexy one. Only Arsen, heh?"

I slapped a hand over my eyes and then dragged it down to hide my smile.

"Too late for that, Char. But don't worry. I'll figure this out. We'll be safe. Just... chill? Don't say you know the mafia of Phoenix is actually a bunch of shapeshifters publically, and it'll be fine?"

"Fine?" The voice came from the back of the shop. Jeremy.

"Oh— ah— Jer!" Char greeted, waving with her tattoo gun. "We were just kidding."

"You told her?" he demanded, steeling me with a murderous gaze. See, this is why I hit "record."

"She figured it out herself," I said, sitting up in my chair to lean in front of Charlotte protectively. "I didn't tell her shit."

"He really didn't," Charlotte called from behind me. "I tried to get him to! All the time. And nothing. Seriously, I would have literally gotten down on my—"

"Charlotte!" Jeremy and I snapped in unison, and I looked back to see her hands raised in surrender.

"Okay, okay! But really..."

"Do you have proof, or is this just word of mouth that is going to get you and my best artist murdered?" Jeremy snapped.

"Best artist," Charlotte muttered. "You shouldn't have."

"I have a recording of her giving her 'evidence,' so that should help."

The three of us were quiet for a long moment, before Jeremy sighed and threw his keys onto the front desk.

"Lock up please, Charlotte," he groaned. "And good luck. You'll fucking need it."

He grabbed a few personal items, and then exited out the back without another word.

I turned back to Charlotte, who just watched me with wide eyes for a long moment, before motioning toward her station.

"You can talk and work?"

She sighed in relief, collecting herself and then scooping up her gun.

"I definitely can," she said, "and I have some questions."

"Of course you do..."

"Ready?" she asked as she began inking me again.

"Shoot," I sighed. I was still flabbergasted that she had added it up on her own, but I was also relieved beyond words. I had wanted her to know so many times, and now that she did, I realized it would be impossible not to answer whatever she had to ask.

"Were you born a werewolf?" she started with.

"Shifter. But yes."

"Do you turn into a wolf, or like, a man-beast?"

"Shifters turn into stronger versions of their creature, so a wolf, but a big one."

"How big?" She wiggled her eyebrows, and I had to fight to keep a straight face.

"I thought you promised no more dick jokes. You literally pinky swore."

"Yeah, well, that was before I knew. It's like the New Testament up in this bitch. Dick jokes are cool now, and we don't have to sacrifice lambs anymore." Jesus Christ... Is that how it works?

"In that case, huge." I laughed when her face reddened.

"Okayee..." She was finishing up the last of the outside line work, and I was surprised at how quick and clean the progress was. "Can you make new werewolves— er— shifters?"

"Yes, but probably not how you think," I replied. She frowned in confusion. "You're not going to turn into a werewolf because we made out a few times, if that's what you're wondering."

"Damn," she said in mock-disappointment. "How's that work?"

"Each shifter is born with what is called their Gift," I explained. "With that Gift, they can grant a single person the ability to shift, and live a lengthened life as a being of Lycan. It's more of a spiritual transfer. Not an oof, I bit you and now you have the werewolf gene. We're not vampires."

"Do vampires exist?"

"A few, but they're scarce. Keep to themselves. I've never met one."

"What else exists?" She glanced up when I didn't answer for a moment.

"This is a more dangerous question," I began slowly, thinking of how to phrase it in a way in which I didn't have to answer. "Not a forbidden one, since you already know way too much, but you're neutral ground, Char. I don't want to put you in danger. And certain things come with more complicated answers."

"Oh." Charlotte was quiet as she began making details in the fur of my wolf, and I suddenly felt bad for not telling her about the magic-users lurking around the city. It wasn't like telling her would put her in the middle of the shifter-sorcerer war. Something just felt wrong about exposing her to the struggles of my world so quickly, when I was just getting to share the "fun" stuff. She knew my secret, and I could feel the walls I had put up to keep her from getting too close, too embedded in my foundation, crumbling away. But I still had to be tactful with how the rubble fell.

She knew my secret, I realized, but I didn't know hers.

"I have a question for you now," I told her, and her hazel eyes met mine slowly.

"Okay."

"Who are you running from?"

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-Bails