Werewolves of New York by Faleena Hopkins Page A

back. Do you understand?” He could feel Louise get clammy, could smell her fear. “Do. You. Under. Stand.”
    She nodded. “Yeah.”
    He shook her around and tossed her onto the floor like he was throwing away trash. “Get your things. Go.” He stood between Diana who was sobbing, and Louise who was not.
    “I’m sorry, Louise!” she whispered.
    Eli hated when he heard victims defending or apologizing to their abusers. But that was how it worked. There is no abuser if there is no victim. One cannot exist without the other.
    Louise shot Diana a hateful look and he knew this wasn’t the last of it. He could make her leave, but she’d be back. It made his soul hurt and he gritted his teeth to growl, “That’s enough.”
    Louise picked up some clothes and a jacket, ignoring him and moving slow.
    She turned and faced him, cocking her chin with defiance. Unleashing his restraint, he used all of his supernatural speed, appearing inches in front of her terrified face with his eyes in full shift-glow. He growled at her, his chest rumbling so thoroughly it vibrated hers, too. Urine rushed down her leg and she ran out, clamoring down the stairs.
    As soon as he gathered himself and knew his eyes were back to their normal human-like color, he turned and dipped to his knees to be at her level. “Diana, are you okay?”
    Holding one of the desk legs, she had tears streaming down her old bruises, and her cheek was red from the slap. “I’m fine.”
    “I heard her kick you. Is anything broken?” He couldn’t smell blood, but only she would know if something was internally damaged, like a rib.
    She sniffled and shook her head. “No.”
    “You want to come out?”
    Climbing out and using the desk to steady herself, she was scared for so many reasons. He hated that he was probably one of them. But maybe witnessing the little bit of supernatural power would be enough to shock her into doing something different. It was all he could hope for knowing that Louise would be back once she’d cleaned her pants. And she’d be furious.
    “You have some place you can go?”
    She thought about it. “I have a friend from work.”
    That day he’d copied the list of shelters out from his phone by hand, and he handed it to her now. “These are those places we talked about. They don’t judge. They only help.” He walked the paper to her. “I’m sorry I scared you. You can trust me. I know you might not believe that right now.”
    “No, I do,” she whispered, taking the list. “Thank you.”
    He sighed, looking at the red mark on her tear-drenched cheek. “I know you love her, I can see it. But this isn’t what love has to be like. There are no ‘shoulds.’ I’m not saying you should , understand?” She nodded. “I’m saying it’s a choice. You are making a choice. She is making a choice. And you can make another one if you want to badly enough.”
    “Okay,” she nodded.
    He felt deflated and impotent to help. He couldn’t force her to choose a better life. Then he remembered Rose’s number. “Listen, Diana, give me that paper a sec.?” She handed it to him. “You got a pen?” She nodded and reached for one on the desk. “Thanks.” He used his leg to write the already memorized number on. “This is a female lawyer. She’ll help you if you decide to prosecute. You can trust her, too.” He handed the paper back. “Just…hold onto it, okay?”
    “I can’t afford a lawyer!” she said, her eyes hopeless.
    He threw up his hands in a prayer position. “I’ll pay for it. You call that number?” He pointed at the paper in her hand. “I will cover the cost. I have the money. I want to.”
    She stared at him. “Why are you doing this?”
    He gave her a big smile. “It makes me feel good. But only if you use that number, you understand? I won’t feel good if you don’t.”
    She nodded, but regardless of his trying to coax one out of her, she couldn’t return the smile. He waited until she got her things