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6. Let’s Play Punch the Troll

The Seattle pack controlled most of Washington's territory but there were still certain restrictions set for all the supernaturals in the area. Like certain places that were off limits to the werewolves. The South Park Bridge was one of those places.

Since I could remember, every single werewolf I knew avoided that bridge, both in human and wolf form. I've never asked why exactly but I knew I'd be in steep trouble if I went near it so I never did.

I was about to break that rule.

I didn't care.

Scowling, I pulled on my wolf mask and followed Ian onto the bridge. He'd parked his car a ways off, for our speedy get away afterwards I suppose. Which might prove to be difficult since he walked us all the way to the middle of the bridge before stopping. By then I was wondering if I was fast enough to outrun a troll, that and the fact that the trespassing rule was stupid. There certainly weren't any trolls or other mythical beings strolling around- it was as normal as a bridge could get.

"I see no trolls, Ian," I said, folding my arms.

Ian's eyes followed a passing Lamborghini, his dream car. "Of course you don't see any trolls, Ember," he said, craning his neck as the car disappeared into the distance. "Would you be running around as a wolf in your own neighborhood?"

He had a point there...

I tapped a foot impatiently. "So, what exactly do you need from this troll?"

He turned, grinning like a lunatic. "You'll see."

"Ian."

He shook his head. "Look, I know I may not seem reliable to you but you can lean on me. That's what friends do. So just trust me on this one, Em."

I frowned. "I never said you weren't reliable. What are you talking about?" I asked, unfolding my arms.

He smiled, mimicked zipping his lips shut. "Nothing. I promise you'll love what this troll has in store. Just wait till the end of the night."

Before I could argue, he was rummaging through his book bag and pulling out a tiny object, shoving it at me. The silver ring glinted under the street light, a simple band of metal. Pretty, I thought. I slipped it onto my ring finger, held up my hand to admire it.

"For communicating," he explained.

"I didn't think the first person to give me a ring would be my best friend," I teased.

He shrugged. "Don't drown in the honor. You look good in that dress."

He'd given me the dress I was currently wearing when he came to pick me up, and I would've protested seeing as I was supposed to be fighting but he'd shown me a region I could tear at when I needed the mobility. Plus, apparently white cloths represented a formal challenge to trolls otherwise they wouldn't acknowledge you. Snobs.

I didn't mind wearing it anyway, it was gorgeous and I didn't often get the chance to wear dresses. It was entirely white and made of soft cotton, comfortable as heck, especially with my white sneakers underneath. Hey, if I was going to fight a troll I wasn't doing in heels.

I bet Helen could do it.

"It is pretty," I told Ian, studying him as well through the slits of my mask.

Ian was always approachable with his handsome goofy face and child-like energy but I doubted that would help tonight, we were a very suspicious looking pair. A girl in a wolf mask dressed in a white dress and a towering man who wore all black. Not trustworthy in the least. If we weren't careful someone might end up calling the cops before we even found this troll.

"What do we do now?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. The night air was slightly chilly with the sleeveless dress on.

"You knock on the sidewalk three times, that should bring the troll out. Then you distract him as long as possible while I go get what I need from his lair under the bridge," Ian replied.

I frowned. "I knock on the sidewalk? What is it, his front door?"

He nodded. "Sorta. Trolls live in the water below bridges."

That explains why we haven't seen troll man around.

"Wait, underwater? How are you going to get down there?"

He grinned, slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I can breathe underwater for at least half an hour."

"How do you manage to balance school and learning all these spells?"

He tapped his forehead with his index finger. "I'm a genius."

I scoffed. "Get going, fish boy."

He hesitated, reached out and patted me on the head. "Don't kill the troll."

"What? No be careful, Ember?" I asked.

"I'm more worried for the troll," he snickered, jogging away.

I snorted. If he was this confident then maybe the troll was no big deal after all. I reached down, knocked three times on the concrete, wincing when the cement scraped against my skin. I straightened, glanced around.

Nothing.

There were flashing lights as traffic carried on, people who stared at me skeptically as they passed. How long did it take for trolls to answer their door? Was he busy? What did trolls do at night? I wish I had brought my phone with me.

I leaned on a street lamp, sighed. This was going to be a long night, maybe I should've stayed home.

Stayed home and done what? Relive the conversation in the restaurant over and over again?

I shook off the thought but now that they were there I couldn't push them away. I bit my lip, tried not to let my mind wander further, tried not to think about what happened at Crunch. I closed my eyes, imagined I was back in the cage again. Where there were no restrictions, no weakness, only the rush of adrenaline and triumph.

Aster was right. I do need the money from the fights but the real reason- the person who got me started on it was Kane. The entire pack to be exact. I was overlooked as a weakling, pitied for being fatherless with a mother who spent most of her time in her head than in reality. They made me feel like I was insignificant, both the adults and teenagers at school, in different ways but the message was still there. I was nothing.

But in the cage I was something. I was someone, someone who won. No matter how many hits, how many bones they broke they couldn't stop me from getting up again. I had that power. It might be the only power, but I was going to cling onto it nonetheless.

"You sought my attention, you have it, little wolf."

My eyes flashed open. Standing a mere few feet from me was... Well a dude. A lanky young man with a scruffy beard and aqua green eyes. He wore jeans and a Mets t-shirt, his blue sneakers ratty. Not a remarkable guy- except he was staring at me funny and I had a feeling he was the one who had spoken. He'd called me a wolf but he couldn't possibly be the troll. Could he?

"Hey," I waved awkwardly. "Do you need something?"

He blinked once. "Were you not the one seeking me?" he asked.

I pointed at him. "You're the troll?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I mean, cool," I rushed out, glancing around nervously.

He was so civilized. I figured I'd meet a raging monster and get straight into the fighting, not suffer through this awkward introduction. When I got my hands on Ian later...

"When do you want to have it?" He asked, stepping forwards a step.

I had to fight the urge to retreat a step. "Have what?" I asked.

He frowned. "Our wedding."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. "What- no. What?"

He pointed at my dress. "A human bride is offered to the keeper of the bridge, knocking thrice on his gate. In exchange for eternal bondage that human may receive one of my many treasures, is that not what you came to bargain?"

I held up both my hands. "No! Absolutely not, this is all a misunderstanding okay?"

He opened his mouth to speak- only to be interrupted.

Ian was barreling down the street towards us, in his raised hand a golden cup. "Ember, I stole the treasure from the troll. We can go now!"

Fudge.

Very slowly, the troll turned his head my way.

I bit my lip.

"You dare steal from me?"

"Well, it depends on how you view the situation," I began.

"We stole it from right under the stupid troll's nose!" Ian laughed, still running over to us.

He was close enough I could see how damp his cloths were, hair clinging to that stupid big head of his. Didn't the idiot see who was in front of me?

I was about to shout a warning when in a split second, the troll threw out his hand- a large brown club materializing in thin air and shooting straight ahead. It slammed right into Ian- sending him flying backwards, the golden cup skittering away.

A man who had been walking by us paused, screamed and took off running in the other direction.

The troll's nostrils flared, glittery golden flakes dropping around him his body suddenly changed. No longer lanky, he was twice the height of Ian, skin rotting green over bulging muscles. A single brown cloth covered his lower body, the upper part frighteningly packed. His face became wider, almost grotesque, mouth full of teeth sharper than even a wolf's.

And when he beat his chest with both fist and roared, the sound vibrating right into my bones, that's when people really started running.

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