FLOOD

A Short Reprieve

Anger swelled in my chest, and I debated ripping him to pieces from the inside out, painting the forest floors red with his blood. But for some reason I could move. It was like his voice had turned me to stone.

            “I never asked to inherit this twisted legacy.”  A pause. The light wavered. “I know it’s not worth anything to you,  not after what we did to your friend, but…I want you to know that I’m sorry.”

            The strain in his voice was audible, as if he’d never apologized in his life, and disliked the feeling. I still couldn’t move, my eyes were darting around the woods, trying to figure out what I was going to do. Run for it? Fight him?

            Cain still didn’t move, or at least…his light didn’t.

            We both stayed there, statue-like, in the darkness. At my feet, Fiske shifted and gave another dull whine. The sound sent fire through my veins. Cain could take his apology and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. If he didn’t want to inherit this so-called twisted legacy, he should have walked away.

            “I’m seriously considering killing you.” I said it softly, but loud enough so that I knew he could hear me.

            Instead of replying, Cain’s light moved, and I stiffened. But he was moving away from me, back towards the other lights in the distance. Someone called to him as he walked through the trees.

            “Covered the west side. Cain?”

            “Nothing.”

            Nothing. Cain was lying for me. Maybe if I got really lucky, he would lead them away. But we had limited time even if he did cause a distraction, and Fiske still couldn’t move. For the second time I wished that Fiske was small enough for me to carry, but there was no way.

            It was only then that I remembered that other body moving through the trees towards me, the living, breathing water that I’d felt before. The memory came a second too late.

            Something wrapped around my waist, yanking me backwards. My shout was muffled as a hand clapped over my mouth, and I tasted dirt on his fingers. I went abruptly still then, remembering that I had the power to rip apart my attacker if I needed to.

            There was a rustle of fabric, and then someone said in my ear in a low, husky voice, “Sorry, but I didn’t want to startle you.”

            In spite of the situation I couldn’t hold back a snort of derision. Funny way of not startling someone this guy had.

            “Okay, right…” the voice sounded sheepish. “This wasn’t the best plan I’ve ever had for approaching a lady. Listen, we’ve only got limited time though, swear you won’t tear me to pieces if I let go?”
            So he knew what I could do. That was interesting. Someone from the lab turned traitor maybe? Carefully, I nodded my head up and down, deciding that I would cooperate. At least, for now.

It was impossible to make out his face in the dark when I  turned around, but he was tall, I could see that much. A little taller than Cain was, probably six foot something, which was tall as far as humans go. Of course, my suspicions that Cain had Jotun blood had been confirmed, and this guy, whoever he was, was even taller. Another half human?

I hadn’t moved yet, and the figure shifted in the dark, obviously uncertain.

“Follow me?”

“Let me get my wolf first.”

My rescuer shifted impatiently from foot to foot while I crouched down beside Fiske. When I touched the wolf’s neck I felt him flinch. He was awake.