The Hunted

Twenty-Four

            "Looking for something?"

            Blake started as Red crept up on silent feet.  Over a shoulder she looked at him, wincing as pain hit her, and then turned to face him head-on.  "Well, I was going to cook breakfast."

            His lips twitched as he rubbed sleep from his eyes and combed through his hair with his fingers.  Almost instantly, it was perfectly styled save for a few strands that stuck up in the back.  "Were you?"

            "Yeah...But I can't really cook."

            "Is that so?"

            Blake flushed.  "I can put cereal in a bowl.  That's about it."

            Red roared with laughter.  "Don't worry about it."  He paused to examine her, raking a critical eye over the scrapes and bruises on her face and the bandage covering her head – the only wounds he could visibly see.  Gently, he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head to the side so the lighting was better.  "This doesn't look as bad yesterday.  Pain?"

            "Worse before I took the meds.  It's getting better," she promised him, a little surprised at the easy, thoughtless touch of his fingers on her skin.  His fingers were warm, though, and softer than she anticipated.

            "Good."  He smiled and took a step back where he leaned against the counter.  "I was putting some thought to it last night and was thinking that the pack needs to get used to seeing you around.  Maybe it'll help diffuse some tension if they realize you're not going to pull a gun out and start shooting people. So I was thinking that we could go out for breakfast."

            "You have places to go out for breakfast here?"

            "Just one.  A diner near the clinic.  Amanda wanted us to go back there anyway to get your bandages changed so I thought we could do that and then grab a bite to eat."

            "Well, if I'm not likely to get slaughtered and used in place of breakfast meat, then sure.  Let's go."

            His tone was as dry as the Sahara as he said, "Oh, don't worry.  We wouldn't use you as breakfast meat.  Maybe dinner.  You'd make an excellent steak, I'm sure.  Or perhaps a burger."

            Blake only rolled her eyes.  "Hilarious, Red."

            They made a pit stop at the packhouse before the clinic – stopping just long to change into clothing of their own.  While in her room, Blake checked for her hidden cellphone, relieved to find it still tucked away into the hollowed-out heel of her boot.  It was a good thing they'd stopped as she already had seventeen missed texts.  Going to the Alpha's house meant she had missed her scheduled midnight check-in.

As she readied, Blake fired off a quick text to Malachi. She told him that she was okay and provided him with a few meagre updates.  It wasn't much – only that if the hunters weren't able to bring the entire wall down and could only enter through small holes as they'd done before, then they could leave the pack from any point without returning back to those holes.  From what she'd figured out before getting attacked yesterday, it seemed that the warding around the pack was more to prevent people from coming in and not leaving.

After the text was sent, there was a small part of Blake that pictured Red's face and felt guilt.  But then she remember her parents and forced her resolve back into place as she left to meet him downstairs.

            From there, they went to the clinic where an older man with dark skin and greying hair named Dwayne changed Blake's bandages.  He had crows' feet around the brown-black eyes but there was something genuine in his face that made Blake feel at ease.  It was easy to see the familial resemblance between him and Amanda and Lucy.  He was so clearly their father.