"You know, they're all looking for you, kid."
Glancing up from where she sat, fifteen year old Mary Travil gave a look of bewilderment before it was quickly replaced with annoyance.
"How'd you find me?" She demanded rudely, earning a disapproving scowl from her Minder.
"It's my job to watch you," Clint pointed out, "It was only a matter of time before I caught onto your little game."
Mary scoffed and let her head rest against the chimney crown of the many scattered along the roof. Her home was big, so it was no surprise she used that to her hiding advantage. A predicable spot, left overlooked.
"Why are they trying to force me into meetings already?" She asked suddenly.
Clint gave a sigh. "We both know the answer to that. If I said it out loud, I'm sure it'd only make you feel more shitty," He scratched the back of his head and with a hearty grunt, sat besides her.
"It's not as bad as you think," He continued, giving the top of her head a small pat. "Take your brother for example. He started attending meetings at thirteen."
She fell quiet, her eyes looking him up and down with sudden calmness. Clint's usual duty attire was replaced with a casual T and sweats, his blonde hair left unkept and his presence void of it's repetitive seriousness.
"I'm not my brother," Smacking his hand away, her mood peaked once more, "Don't compare me to that asshole."
He playfully held his hands up in surrender and gave a whistle. "Down girl," he mused, "I'm just trying to shed some light."
"Well don't," Mary fired back harshly, "It's terrifying enough having my life controlled and dictated. My brother doesn't get to be my standard. No one does."
_________________________________
Mary blinked back that horrid memory.
She felt sick to her stomach, and unable to control her racing heart, she fisted the front of her shirt. Her skin was clammy and tight. The constant throbbing in her head had spiked enough for it to match the steady rhythm of drums. Was this a blessing in disguise? Clint was there. Unfortunately alive and well despite the state he had been in the last time she saw him.
He was dressed as she had always remembered him to. Covered completely in black in his sleeveless hoodie, neat button down shirt and flared ankle banded pants. His boots were dirty, and his hair and face looked unkept with exhaustion.
He looks older, Mary thought.
"Where is she?" Clint sneered in Dean's face, but as soon as his question surfaced, his eyes widened.
His gaze met hers intently, and from the simple sight of his frown, Mary felt the string that had been sawing her brain snap in two.
Clint's glare was immediate. "Mary," her name left his mouth like venom, gruff and low. "You need to come home."
"Puppy," she cooed his old nickname, the corners of her mouth twitching up ever so slightly.
He threw Dean aside, who stumbled into the gathered crowd of vamps, and with the tilt of his head, snickered. "You think this is a game? Like I said, it's time for you to come home."
She let out an annoyed huff, her brows knitting. Who was he to order her around like she was still in his care? His presence alone irked her, but with each word he spoke, she could feel her patience running slim.
Focus.
Her mate's voice sent her heart into instant overdrive. She gripped the bar, clenching her teeth when a pang split through her skull. Small electrical shocks rippled up the skin of her cheek, the familiar feel of his touch wrapping around the bottom of her face. It guided her vision around the room, her dark eyes unfocusing repeatedly despite her wishes.
She hadn't noticed Clint wasn't alone. Four other men with the same attire accompanied him, and Mary instantly realized they didn't intend to let her walk away scot free. Keepers were only sent from Deffly under severe cases. They would take her by force if they had to, and she knew all too well of the occurrence.
Her gaze met Clint's once more. "I didn't plan on going back this soon," she shrugged, a smug smirk curving her lips. "I still have people to free."
"Has attacking so many unsuspecting couples given you a hard head?" Clint seethed, the fury in his eyes prominent. "That hasn't made you stronger, Mary. You're not doing anyone a damn favor. You're a coward!"
"A coward?" Her voice rose heavily, her posture now straight. "They're always given opportunities, a chance to fight back. But what do they do instead? They run. It's not my fault they're scared of me."
She drummed her fingers along the bar, her nails stretching a slow extend into stiff long claws as she smiled mockingly. "Where's your moon goddess now? She doesn't seem too concerned about the well-being of your kind."
"You're sick, Mary," Was Clint's immediate response. "Stand down, stop this foolishness and come home. Face the consequences of your actions."
Their stare down was heartfelt. Mary's smug expression loosened, downturned lips replacing her smirk and her inky eyes now glazed with uncertainty. I trusted you, she meekly thought.
The space went quiet, the bar's music continuing over the tense atmosphere, but through the unease, Dean took a step towards her.
"Don't listen to him, Mary," His crimson eyes shone brightly with determination, his hand rubbing the reddened line at the front of his neck. "He's a hypocrite and you know it. They're nothing but liars. All of them. You know if you go back they'll—"
"Shut it, leech!—"
"I wondered what that smell was," Clint's outburst seemed to catch in his throat at Mary's sudden tone. Her blackened eyes bore into his and her claws dug into the wood of the bar separating her from her new prey. "That sweet, disgusting, musty ass wood smell. The same smell my brother gave off at one point."
He deserves it, Mary. Free him.
Thin saliva fell and pooled from the corners of her mouth as her face twisted into a wide grin. Her chest rose heavily, the room becoming unbearably cold. With gleaming black eyes, she placed a hand mockingly over her heart. "The smell, of a mated male."
The color in Clint's face paled, but with the simple signal of his hand, his associates sprang into action. Two of them leaped towards her, whipping out shock sticks and baring their teeth with yells.
Mary sprung over the bar in one fluid motion. She twisted her hips mid jump, the action denting the surface and scattering chipped wood into the air. Her foot came cracking against the first man's face and with heavy force, sent him shooting across the room in a spiraling heap.
In seconds the bar erupted into a fury of chaos. The vamps that had danced and sang together just moments before now swirled in a wave of heated assail towards Clint and the Keeper next to him. They fought them off readily but before Mary could dwell on the sight, she was rammed by the other man that had charged her.
She jolted as he jammed the end of his stick against her side. Fiery electric shot through her body like a bullet, and giving a hearty grunt she could only grip his wrist as he aggressively backed her against the bar. The room seemed to cave for a moment, a snowy forest overtaking the chaos within the bar, snowflakes swaying around the scuffles as they clashed. A bitter wind stirred the falling crystals and with twitching resolve, she willed back her bearings.
She blinked, the face of the man before her expanding and morphing into a bundle of fur. His canines chomped mere inches in front of her face before his scowling expression returned back to normal and she was left with a determined man trying to wrestle his striking wrist from her grasp.
So that's your fucking play? Mary mentally cursed. Only few knew of her passive compulsion towards her kind. Her simple presence compelled the wolves of men and women to lay dormant, stripping them of their ability to shift. Clint was one of the few to know of her ability, but to say she was surprised he'd use it against her was an understatement. He really was getting on her nerves.
Her lips pulled up into a scowl. The situation didn't look to be going in her favor, and to make matters worse, the third Keeper that had come to accompany Clint appeared by the man she was wrestling with. The two men, now working together, managed to break her grip on the first man's wrist.
They jammed their sticks against her ribs before she could fight back, her body stiffening from the painful jolts. The assault faltered what was left of her defensive thrashing, and eagerly, one of the men made a grab for her neck.
Will you continue being as weak as them?
The room faded instantaneously, slowly shrinking into a white hole of chill. The change in scenery squeezed at her throat, and as her gaze fumbled around her endless white surroundings, she struggled to breathe.
Hands, soft as cotton, smoothed up her shoulders, skimming up to her face. They curled over her eyes, blessing her with a gentle darkness, and bringing on a ring that echoed like a cave against her skull. They deserve it for what they did to me. They deserve it for what they did to me. They deserve it for what they did to me.
They deserve it. With widened eyes, Mary watched as the bar's chaotic scuffle banged back into place.
She unleashed a crippling scream unlike any she'd ever done before, her face contorting into a state of veiny strain. Her thrashing came violently and with lethal intent, she pulled her up leg up, slamming her foot against her second attacker. A snap rang through the air as his body shot towards the entrance in a tumbling gyrate.
The first man's surprise was evident. Her leg slid through his parted ones, her body twisting and her arm stretching out besides the left side of his neck. He was caught off guard, but before he could reach towards her arm, she unleashed a wild roar. Mary pivoted, bending her elbow against the side of his throat and sending his head crashing against the bar.
It hurts. She wheezed uneven breaths in desperate gasps. It hurts. Her eyes, wild and wide, turned to the man she had just immobilized. It hurts!
And so she let go.