Chapter Four
Tommy picked up Merton's discarded shirt and smelt it, calling on the wolf within. Which was a mistake. Because the wolf had been put off long enough and it wanted blood. Right now.
The scent was unfamiliar. Not anyone from Pleasantville he had met. So that left. . . The new kid. Zachary Stevens or something. And that would make sense. Someone who didn't know that Merton was not to be touched. Ever.
Tommy let himself out. "Back soon." He told the closed door. "Back real soon." He checked his watch. Four o'clock. Where would a teenage boy go at four o'clock. Like Tommy even needed to ask. The Factory. Pleasantville wasn't big enough to have another hang out, unless you counted the Hungry Bucket.
Sometimes, wolf-speed is very useful. This wasn't one of those times. It was far too light for the Pleasantville werewolf to come out and play, and because Tommy had the ability to travel at incredible speeds, he'd never felt the need to buy himself a car like a normal teenage guy. Damn it.
So he walked. And he steamed. And he pictured messy bloody things to do to that kid. Things he had never really even thought of before. Before the whole werewolf thing happened, he hadn't been a particularly violent guy. Yeah, he played football. But it hardly made him the big tough guy everyone thought he was. No, being a werewolf did that. . . Made him want to take Mr. Whatever-his-name-was and rip out his throat and drag the body out into the woods somewhere.
And on that note, he was there.
He opened the door to the factory, and let the wolf go. Yeah, that bastard was here. His scent was cloying, and Tommy followed it. Over to a table filled mostly with athletes and girls. People Tommy knew and liked. Tommy tapped him on the shoulder.
"Yeah?" He/The Jerk/Asshole said.
"Let's go outside." Tommy wished half-heartedly that he didn't sound so much like a caricature from a bad movie. One of Merton's bad movies.
The guy looked at him. "So, what, you gonna beat my ass for messing with your little boy-toy?"
"You admit it?" Tommy said dumbly.
"Yeah, little freaker got in my face. Whatcha going to do about it?"
Tommy lost it. He picked the sad little human up and found the presence of mind to drag him out of the Factory. It was a little too fast and a little too strong to be merely human, but Tommy was beyond caring. Let a thousand thousand scientists play with his brains, hell, bring out the anal probes, just let him kill this guy first.
He was pined against a car and gasping for air, Tommy hands clenched around his throat. Digging in with nails that were just a little too long. "This. I'm going to do this about it." Tommy smashed his head into the window.
"What the hell?!?" It was a gasp, spoken softly.
"Listen very carefully, okay? This is my territory. Mine. This is my turf. And everything and everyone in Pleasantville belongs to me." Tommy punctuated his sentence by pushing Zack-or-something against the car.
"And I don't like it when people mess with my stuff. I mean, a little here and there between friends, I'll forgive. But you crossed a line."
"Who cares?" He tried to push out of Tommy's grasp.
Tommy slammed him back into the car. "Obviously you weren't listening. I care. A lot. And I think it's time you changed your attitude. I'm going to be watching you, and I want to see you become a little princess. If you so much as litter, I'll beat you senseless. If you pick on some little kid, make a freshman cry, I'll make sure you never walk again. And if you so much as look at Merton wrong, I'll make sure they never find your grave. Understood?"
He didn't look so great, his eye was blackened, and his nose was bleeding. I did that, Tommy thought, wildly, when? In between that bit about my territory and the part about messing with Merton? "Yeah." It was kind of low, and gasping, dragged from his lips.
"Pardon? I didn't quite hear you." Tommy said softly.
"Understood."
"Good."