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My Ratty Luck	By : Helbling Category: Anita Blake > FemmeSlash Views: 2501 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I was still crying on and off when Rose arrived at midday. She didn't see me immediately, I was in the garden again, with the animals, but the change from how we'd been before the attack and now was marked.
No more happy frolicking, no Lucy stumbling into logs, or Pig chewing Jem's ear. The cats were still sat around and on me, and they even purred occasionally but I got the distinct impression it was more for my comfort than because they were so happy they couldn't keep it in. Occasionally Murphy would go and do a quick security round of the area, but he never went where we couldn't see each other, and he gave the entry and exit points the wererat had used thorough and constant goings over.
However, eventually, Rose stumbled upon our somber little group, took one look at my swollen, red eyes and asked what was wrong while shepherding me inside for a hot strong cup of tea and a cream scone. The woman knows my vices well. I waved her enquiries off until I had my tea firmly in my hands, and hiccupping sobs stopped breaking from my mouth.
"A doctor came around."
Rose put her hand to her mouth involuntarily. "It gave you rabies. Fucking thing, gave you rabies, I knew it! Poor baby-" she put her own mug full of coffee down and started towards me, hands held wide as if to give me a hug. I waved her away. Sympathy now would make me start crying again.
"No, no, I don't have rabies." I couldn't help but give a watery smile at the irony of my life. Right now, I'd love to have to have those injections to the stomach. Hell, I'd sign up for one everyday if it meant my current problem went away. "It gave me something worse."
Rose was leaning back against the kitchen counter, puzzlement in her light blue eyes. "Mange?" She asked. I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but truthfully, if I'd had to name diseases animals could give to humans, rabies and mange would be the only ones I could come up with too.
"No, not that either." I pulled the vial from my pocket where I'd been rolling it between my fingers all morning, and carefully put it on the table. I took a breath, and stared at the apple tree out of the French doors. "It wasn't a dog, Rose, it was a wererat." A sob broke from me - telling someone else made it seem so much more real. A lump in my throat rose up, and I tried to swallow it back down before I spoke again, but it wouldn't go completely and made my voice hoarse and rough. "I've got lycanthropy."
Tears started pouring down my cheeks again, and I put my hands up to wipe them away, when I was shocked by Roses coffee mug hitting the wall beside my head and exploding. Splashes of hot liquid covered my arms, and I knew I was going to have burns on my legs. I turned to stare at Rose, bewildered.
Rose is your typical blonde, blue-eyed American. Good natured, kind hearted and gorgeous, I've always thought she must have resembled Marilyn Monroe, or Barbie in her younger years, although now admittedly she looked slightly more like Barbie's mother, in a good way. No longer did she look like that.
Her lips were pressed together so hard they'd gone white around the edges, and her eyes were wild, and full of rage. Her hands were help a little way from her body, and were clenching and unclenching into fists. I had a moment to stare, open-mouthed at this woman I had thought I knew, and think that this was a little how I might have looked when the doctor told me before she exploded.
"You're a fucking FREAK!" she screeched. The animals, still half outside and watching the fences started barking at the closed doors. I went to let them in, when the half full kettle sailed over my head. She'd thrown that too. "You fucking WHORE, you SLUT, you're one of THEM, you DISGUST me!" Each insult was punctuated with thrown kitchens utensils, a couple of which successfully hit me, but thankfully they were small items. I had a moment of gratitude that I was on the side of the kitchen where the knives were.
"Why are you yelling at me, I didn't want it!" I yelled back, interrupting her rant. She looked at me wide eyed for a second, then started up again.
"You're SICK, I can't believe I ate your food, oh GOD, I might have caught it, you should KILL yourself, too bad you didn't manage it the first time, you fucking FREAK."
I stopped trying to open the door. The way the dogs were behaving, there was a significant possibility that if they got in they might harm Rose. I just sat and stared at this woman, as everything seemed to go in slow motion except for my thoughts.
When I'd come to this country I'd put significant energy into making a new place for myself. The animals, the house, Rose, had all been efforts to create a new version of what I'd lost. And here was this woman who I'd liked, had sat around the table with and laughed and joked, had cried with at sad movies, had been a significant part of my new little family - and in all that time, I'd never known her. I'd seen the pretty wrapping. I'd seen the sociable out-going attractive woman, with a wise (or so I'd thought) view of the world, and I'd never known her, she hadn't been real. Here, now, stripped down to her hatred and her insecurity and her fear, she was real and she hated me. And it hurt. It hurt so bad. But it was real.
"Get out." I said, quietly.
She stared at me, and some little part of myself spoke up. I'd freaked out at first, why shouldn't I allow her the same luxury? I was calmer now, what if she was the same in a few hours? The things she said, came another voice, that's unforgivable. You threw a doctor out of the window in your freak out, said the first voice again. Wasn't that unforgivable? At least all she's throwing is coffee cups.
Rose laughed in a way you might if that was all you had left to do in the world, and picked up a heavy metal rolling pin. "You FREAK, don't tell me what to do, you're fucking SICK, I bet you've already FUCKED half your dogs, how was Jem, was he GOOD?" She hefted the bar of metal above her head like a baseball bat, and her eyes were wild.
Suddenly both little voices were in perfect agreement. Get her out. Now.
"Get out." I said again, in the same way I'd said it the first time.
Her eyes brightened, and she raised the rolling pin again, but didn't come any closer. "You did, didn't you? And Murphy too I bet! How was it, did he make you CUM, did you suck his doggy COCK, you fucking FREAK."
"Get out Rose." I said louder, my voice firm. "Get out now."
She looked around as if panicked, but her face still held a smile, her eyes were still crazy. "You, you're a freak but you've got all this," she gestured disjointedly to a light fixture. "You're a FREAK, you shouldn't have all THIS!" She brought the pin down onto one of the faucets in the sink, and the metal bent. "You shouldn't have more than ME, FREAK!" she screamed again, bringing it down on a kitchen chair this time. The back splintered. "Humans should be first!" she howled. Truth be told, I didn't mind if she destroyed the chairs, I'd ordered them forgetting that I no longer needed them, and so I had far too many around the house, and they got in my way. Rose brought it down again and the back split. She hit it again and again until it was kindling on the floor, and Rose was gasping and could barely lift the rolling pin. I just looked on, my face as expressionless as I could make it.
She looked at me, still panting and out of breath, and I saw her eyes change. "You," she said, then her breath caught and she swallowed, taking a step towards me. I finished unlocking the doors, and she stopped coming forward. Jem and the others could be clearly seen through the glass, howling, barking and growling, hackles up and threatening. Rose wasn't that stupid. "You," she said again, pointing at me with the roller, "deserve to die. You should be DEAD." She screamed the last word, unexpectedly. It made me jump, and set the dogs barking with renewed vigor. I remembered one of the things I'd finalised last week. My will - in the event of my death, my money was split evenly between the animals and Rose. I'd had no one else to give it to. But she didn't know about that. She wasn't doing this for the money, she was doing this because she hated what I was going to become, what I had no choice in becoming, and somehow that was worse.
"I want you out Rose, or I'll ring the police. Go, now."
She laughed again. "And who are they going to believe, a FREAK or me?"
I stared at her, and realised in the space of less than five minutes, I'd come to the point of very nearly hating her. "I'm not a lycanthrope yet," I said coolly, "I haven't had my first change yet. And-" I put my hand on the door handle and turned it, but didn't open it, "-if I let the dogs out and say you were trespassing, it won't matter."
Her eyes lost some of their wildness, and became flinty. "Fine," she spat. Literally, she spat on my kitchen floor. "Fine, I'll go, but I'll be back, and I'll tell everyone. We'll ruin you, run you out of town, let everyone know what a sick, dog-fucking FREAK you are!" She was backing down the hall, as if I'd attack her once her back was turned. She still had the metal rolling pin.
"Leave faster Rose." I said, opening the door a little, and allowing the sound of the dog's barking and the cats hisses to filter through. Her pace upped, and finally she reached the front door, her face still twisted in hate.
"I'll ruin you, you little bitch. And don't you forget it." She hissed before shutting the door behind her. I let the animals in and they rushed down the hall. That was the second time today I'd used them to make someone leave - they definitely deserved extra treats at dinner. I calmly rolled into the front room, the same room she'd waved hello to me from yesterday, and watched her hurry down the drive in the direction of the bus stop. She had never been able to afford a car, I'd been planning to buy her one for her birthday. Now, that would never come. I felt strangely numb inside, as if someone had put me inside a Plexiglas box because they knew if I took anymore knocks today I'd break. I could see everything that was happening, but couldn't feel a thing.
Once Rose had disappeared out of sight, I rolled around the house, and shut and locked all the doors and windows. She had said 'we'. It wouldn't hurt to be cautious for a while. Then I did something I should have done far earlier in the day. I rolled upstairs to my office and my computer and did some research on what I was to become.
* * * * * * * * * *
What I learnt on the internet was far from comforting, although it was illuminating. Generally, were-anythings are hated worldwide. Tomorrow, one of the items on my to-do list would have to be to compile a list of countries and states I could no longer go for fear of being hunted and shot, but it wasn't my number one priority.
The number of websites that came up when you typed in the words lycanthropy, or wererat, was impressive. Unfortunately, the content on most of them could be summarized to 'The freaks should all die.' Not encouraging. One of the more vehement rants was on a website by a group called Humans First which reminded me of Roses screaming as she destroyed my kitchen chair. Tomorrow, I'd also look into getting a lycanthrope-friendly bodyguard. And maybe invest in a bullet proof car.
One of the more informative sites was run by a group called 'Coalition for Better Understanding between Human and Lycanthrope Communities' which was based in St Louis, coincidentally. However, while reassurances on how it was oh-so-difficult to catch lycanthropy were sure to be helpful to the average person looking at this site, there was nothing on what to do if you /had/ caught it. I suppose that might be because they always sent someone from the relevant group as an ambassador to check on anyone who might be at risk. And I'd thrown my ambassador through a window this morning. Crap.
Then something on their home page caught my eye. They had a drop in centre in the evenings. For legal advice, what to do if one of your loved ones catches it, and general information apparently. It was open until ten, and currently the time was nearly six. I should have been getting dinner together, but I was far from hungry. I rang for a cab.
Getting out of the house and into the cab without my self-assigned animal body-guards proved to be a bit harder than expected. Having tried locking them in, locking them out and locking them up with no success, I finally fed them early, then bolted out of the front door as fast as my arms would move me, slamming it behind me. Thank god for the dependability of the gluttony of my darlings.
"Bit protective of you, are they?" Said the cab driver as he collapsed my chair down and put it in the trunk.
"Very, lately, it gets so smothering." I admitted, smiling at him.
He grunted, and then spent the journey regaling me with tales of his two bulldogs for the entire trip, making me giggle. When we finally arrived, he left me with a wink and his direct number should I ever need a cab again at short notice. I gave him a huge tip, but hey, he made me laugh, and right now, I needed it.
The address he left me at had a plain glass door and a light on inside. I could see yellow walls but nothing else, and there were no distinguishing features of any kind. But then, given the hatred I'd encountered on the internet, I suppose they didn't want to advertise for trouble. I took a deep breath and opened the door.
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My Ratty Luck