I didn't even think about it.  I growled and turned around, running back, gaining as my feet smacked against the ground.  I saw an overweight middle aged man, holding Clytie by the crook of her arm.  He towered over her, and held her up.  Clytie was holding her eye, tears racing the rain down her face on the half of her face that wasn't covered by her hand.  I ran toward him and knocked him down. 

He had let go of her and started to run back to his open door, brown eyes wide in fear when I tackled him.  I pressed my paws into his shoulder blades, causing him to land face first into the cement sidewalk.  I heard a cracking sound, and a scream from him. 

His white tank had beer and steak sauce stains on them, I thought as I inhaled his scent.  I bit into his shoulder and ripped his skin to bits.  He screamed, and writhed, but I held him dead as I tore into his shoulder.  I moved up to his neck, latching on and shaking until I heard a crack, feeling it vibrating in my teeth.  He stopped moving, breathing, writhing, screaming. 

All of it. 

I've killed people before.  But only because it was part of my assignment to do so, never just cold blooded murder.

But was it cold blooded?  He was beating her.  He obviously was drunk, and seemed to do that a lot, according to his shirt which hadn't been washed just like it's owner. 

But he may have only hit her that one time, I countered. 

I was breathing heavily over his body, just looking at the back of his head.  He had Clytie's hair color, but it didn't seem like the same sort of wave to it.  I backed up, and got off his back.  I looked around for security cameras, and found none whatsoever.  I turned to the girl, who was looking at her father in despair.  She glanced at me, hand still over her eye.  Her hair was darker, and longer, and though her eyes were brown, they were darker than her fathers. 

I watched her, and Changed back to my human form.  She gasped, and I howled as my body morphed into my natural body. 

I looked at her, as she looked at my body.  She dropped her hand from her face, and raised the other hand to me, touching my face.  When she made contact she jumped back, and fire lit her eyes. She didn't seem to believe what was happening, but she was mad, and needed to take it out on someone. "You killed him," she said viciously. Even angry her voice sounded serene.

"He beat you," I said calmly. 

"Of course he did, he hates me.  He hated my mother and hated me for looking like her, and even existing," she said bitterly.

"Then why are you mad?"

"Because you killed him!"

I was calm, I knew why she was flipping out, and a bit of what was going threw her mind.  "He wasn't innocent, so he deserved to die."

"And what am I supposed to do?  Huh? Where am I supposed to go?!"  Thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed. 

I hadn't thought about that, and stayed silent.  I hadn't really thought at all, just gave into instinct.

"I have to be crazy.  I finally snapped.  After all these years, I really thought I was going to be okay, but I finally snapped."  She wasn't talking to me, but I listened anyway.

"Why do you think you snapped?"  I asked.  I killed, and this wasn't exactly new.  He deserved it, so I didn't see this as a bad thing, though Clytie did, by the way she was looking at me.  I suppose that I would be getting that a lot in my life, so this is probably good practice.

"Who the hell are you?"  She whispered, her eyes filling.

"I'm Jasmine."  I would have put out my hand, but I don't think she would have shook it.  I put my hands on my sides and rolled my heels in the water.  "Um, I'm kinda starch naked, so do you have any . . . ?" She shook her head, and looked at me.

"I think I'm really crazy because my hallucination just asked me for clothes."  I looked at her oddly, which made her shake her head again.  "Yeah, sure come on."  She shook her head again and looked down at her dad.  "What the hell am I doing?  Wolf or not, you killed him!  No, you can't have my clothes!  Go away!  No, no, no!  No!"  Her serene voice was power, and echoed threw the streets. 

I felt compelled to leave, Change and run down the streets.  But I started this, and I was going to continue on with this.  "Look, we need to get rid of the body." 

She looked at me as if I was crazy.  "What the hell are you talking about?!"

I made my eyes steel, and made sure she met my eyes.  "We have to get rid of the body.  Do you think people will believe you that a wolf attacked your father, and then turned into a girl, asking for your clothes?" 

Her eyes sparked in what she thought was true.  "Someone might . . ."  her voice died, for we both knew that no one would actually believe her. 

"No one will."

"But what am I supposed to do?"  Her voice was cracking, and she stared off at her fathers head.  "I can't do anything . . . No one wants me . . . He was all I had!"  She declared as she flew to me, her arms wrapping around my shoulder.  My eyes grew, and I stiffened. 

Tell you the truth, I don't usually hug strangers stark naked in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm.  Especially in a street with broken down houses.  The doors and curtains stayed closed, so people apparently didn't go running down the streets like Clytie. 

She shook as she cried.  Damn, even her crying had a rhythm to it that made me want to rock on my heel to the beat of her sniffles.

Maybe I was the crazy one.  I awkwardly patted her on the back as she cried on my shoulder.  I was soaked in tears and rain water, with some blood in my mouth, but not my own.  I had some blood in my nails, as well, I noticed as I rubbed her black large T-shirt.

"Did he tell you that?"  I asked, glaring at the man.  No, not man.  He was a mice, and I was a wolf.  He's beneath me, and beneath her. 

"Y-yes."  She cried, wailing and sinking her head into the crook of my neck.  Woman are naturally weaker than men, so I have done this before.  My Dad doesn't now, but I think he suspects when the newspaper reads a abusive man was killed by a wolf.  Most of the time we leave before the story gets published, or I bury the body before it can be found.  I just won't sit back and relax when someone innocent is being beaten, or hurt. 

Maybe I wasn't cut out to be a Night Watcher.

"Has he beaten you before?" 

"Only when I do something he doesn't like."  She was getting a hold of herself, and pulled back a little bit.  "Which is a lot."  She wiped her eye, and winced when she realized it was the one he hit.

She stopped and smiled.  "Am I really having a conversation with a werewolf in the middle of a thunderstorm over my fathers dead body?"

"Don't forget naked." I replied.  The blood was being wiped away from her fathers neck and shoulder.  It joined the heavy rain and followed it to the street drain.  She let out a watery laugh. "Clyite, I--"

"How do you know my name?" She looked at me, but didn't wait for an answer.  "Is it a werewolf thing? Do you just automatically know someone's name when you see them?"

I put my hand up before she could ask another question and she went silent.  "No, I heard him say your name."

"Oh," she looked down in disappointment.  Then she stopped.  Just stopped, put herself on pause.  Then slowly looked at her dad.  "He's dead.  He's dead.  He's dead."

"Yes, he's dead."  I confirmed, eyeing her in concern.  Her eyes fluttered and all her body weight was falling to the ground.  I caught her and sighed.  "Great, now I have to carry you."  I glanced at her dead father.  "Stay where you are." 

I picked her and threw her over my shoulder.  If anyone would look out there window, they might just be surprised.  Not everyday you see a naked teenager carrying a passed out girl with a dead body in the middle of the thunderstorm, in the middle of the night.  It would be even more odd if they figured out I was a werewolf.

I stepped up on the wooden steps, which splintered my feet and creaked.  The porch was half caved in, with a broken swing hanging from one chain.  The fence was green and falling apart. 

I didn't need to open the door, since her father had left it open when he burst into the street. 

I stepped in and cursed my werewolf senses. 

It smelled like semen, alcohol and rotten eggs.

Sighing, I dragged her inside.  Damn it, this is just my luck.

The End

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