I dreamed.
Twisting bloody images of the hunter, following, stalking, but his neck broken. Eyes dead. Still following. Gun, with a thousand darts, impossible to miss. The men downstairs, Antonio and Nick, their faces twisting into the faces of the hunter. Pav, caught, bleeding, or meekly walking back with the hunter. Saying she'd worked with him the whole time. My name repeated over and over and over. Not Anne. The name I'd rejected.
It made no sense, none of it, and I writhed, trying to escape, always running, always hurting, so damn hungry.
The smell of food woke me. Good food, pancakes, honey, some kind of meat, and the soft voices. I felt stiff, like all my limbs had stopped flexing properly, but it was the smell of food that overrode anything else.
Then it suddenly became strong. Something shifted under me, the ground giving way, a weight on the bed. Someone was sitting. The smell of food and the sound of a plate set down onto something beside me.
I twitched. Opened my eyes, blinking as light blinded them briefly, trying to get sight back. An unfamiliar room, a bed, and curtains partly open, letting daylight stream in.
"Morning." Antonio said softly eyes coming down to meet mine as I tried to sit, a hand pulling me up. "Want to come eat with us so we don't wake your friend?"
I glanced beside me. In the bed, large enough for three adults, lay Pav. She was asleep, pale face peaceful, hand clutching to the sheets as if she would drown without them, but she was safe. It was the first time I'd seen her sleeping so deeply since we'd escaped.
So I nodded and stood, with some assistance, realising that the reason I couldn't bend or flex like usual was because bandages were across my back, against the wounds, tape holding it securely in place. He picked up the plate and I followed him through a narrow hallway, into a kitchen, where the other man sat with a heap of food and a newspaper. His eyes snapped up to me, like he'd been waiting.
"Just eat it, Nick, she's got plenty." Antonio scolded. Set a plate down, waited for me to sit, and went to pour juice. "We'll talk after she eats "
I was starving. Hesitated. I wanted to wolf it down, consume it all, and then steal more food. My eyes flickering to the other food, then to the oven, where there was a pile of waiting leftovers. Clearly this was the house of werewolves used to the hunger. I eyed the fork and spoon, spotless.
"Just eat it as you need to. Don't worry about manners."
So I ate. Fingers, fork, using both, reassured when I saw Antonio and Nick display the same behaviour with their own food, not at all bothered or self concious about the way they ate. The food was replaced by more food, bacon, ham, sausages, pancakes, and we ate again, the three of us, not saying a word.
I leaned back. My stomach, for the first time in weeks, felt content. It had quietened down and I shuddered, relief flooding through some primal part of me. Food was safety. Energy.
"We treated your back last night and gave you something clean to wear. Hope you don't mind." Antonio said, and I glanced down, only then realising that I was in something different. "Jeremy has instructed us to treat your back three times a day, till you reach the house."
"The house?"
"Home." Nick answered. He glanced up, our eyes meeting, his face frozen. Unreadable. I wasn't sure what was going on with him, this other man, but he seemed to be uncomfortable somehow. "We're taking the two of you home today."
"Yes. We spoke with Jeremy, our Alpha, and told him what happened. What you are. Anne, how did you become a werewolf?"
It was such a sudden question but one that had been floating around since they'd met me, probably. I wanted to ask them the same question.
"I was ...taken. I can't remember how, I think they must have drugged me, and the man, my owner, bit me."
"Not your owner. No one owns you." Nick interrupted, voice low, only to be elbowed by Antonio.
"Well, the man then. I haven't got his name."
"How did you survive though? Not many do." Antonio was sipping his coffee, looking calm, eyes focused on me.
"I know." I remembered that much. Dead bodies. Women. Girls, really, being wheeled down the hall past the cage door. Doctors bent over me as something happened. "He has doctors trying to keep us alive. I saw a lot of them die. Or get sicker." Mind jumped to Pav, again, sleeping in the bed, her face pale. She was sick. She had been sick for days. But at least she was sleeping and that might be more helpful than anything I could do.
"How many were there?" A flicker of something in his eyes. Surprise? Shock? I didn't know.
"I don't know. I was in a cage. Only saw a few around me, but I saw others, and …I can't say. More than twenty if you count the ones that died? I didn't see many people. Just heard them. There were about a dozen doctors. A dozen security guards. So..." A flicker of anxiety. Memories I didn't want to remember. "I don't really know."
"All right. Just one more question..."
"How did I get here? Or where was I?"
A nod, both pair of eyes boring into me. "Either question ,yes."
"I escaped. Grabbed the only girl that could run. We ran." I didn't go into details, didn't tell them what'd happened before I grabbed Pav, how I'd disabled guards, how I'd... guilt, horror, human horror, but the worst part was that the animal part, the part they'd forced into me, thought the deaths were necessary. That it was justified. I swallowed. "He sent a hunter after us. To bring us back. Pets only escape by dying but I wasn't ready to do that yet. I don't know where I ran from. I just ran."
Anxiety, breathing increasing, the urge to flee. It was so vivid that I felt it rising again, felt my eyes dart to the windows, swallowing as I saw how far it was to the city. I felt almost caged.
A hand closed on my shoulder, I jumped, hadn't noticed Antonio or Nick rise.
Nick was standing there, watching me, still watchful. Still quiet. His hand on my shoulder.
"We're going home soon. Driving. The car's already packed. It'll be a bit of a drive but you're used to that, I imagine, from Australia."
I blinked. Memories of laughter, teasing Americans who thought all Australians lived in the outback and lived no where near anywhere. Memories from when I had been the tourist here, on a tour of New York, a student who'd won a trip and couldn't quite believe it.
"I lived an hour from Brisbane. In a rainforest. So no real long drives anywhere." I replied, only half telling the truth, gazing up at him.
He smiled, a small tense smile. "Sounds nice."
"It was. Is. But I missed the seasons in the colder climates."
"Do you live with anyone there? A boyfriend? Husband? ...girlfriend?"
"No. I was studying full time so I only had enough money to rent a room, no boyfriend or anything to share a house with." It seemed distant now. I wondered what they thought when I vanished. The anxiety was fading again, as I talked, and his hand softened slightly. I got what he was doing there, suddenly, getting my mind off the anxiety that was building, and appreciated that. In captivity, the werewolves who sensed fear or anxiety taunted it, provoked it, making it a game. No one had tried to calm one of us down. Nick had though. It was nice of him and I added, "Thanks."
"For what?" His smile widened, just a bit, as if he knew what I was talking about, rough fingertips brushing against the bare neck, before he was off towards one of the other doors.
I spent the next few hours trying to read. No luck. TV was slightly better at being a distraction, though I'd never really cared for it much, I did find the advertisements amusing. Australia was no better than American when it came to the amount of ads on TV, true, but it was a novelty to see a different country's ads. It showed how bad the programming was though if I was most amused by commercials than by the shows themselves. When I was offered a shower I hesitated, but then agreed, after remembering how long it'd been since I showered properly. I probably stank.
Pav was awake when I came out of the shower, in suspiciously new looking female clothing, I wondered if they'd had it already or gone to buy some, her eyes wide with surpassed panic. She calmed down at the sight of me.
"Did they talk to you?"
"Yes, we talked a lot last night." She replied. Stretched. Tried to smile. I examined her, taking notice of her face, the paleness still there. The reason I'd been the one to lead the tracker away, everytime he got close, because of her sickness. She had been for a long time, I suspected. But she ignored me whenever I tried to ask and so I'd given up. As if she knew my trail of thought, she added, "I ate, showered, and went to sleep. They seem okay."
They did seem okay. I was still suspicious, somehow, still on edge. But some part of me was eager to put trust in them, so eager, to believe that there was still some good left in the world. In men. Was that wrong, stupid, idiotic, to hope that we'd found some nice werewolves? Probably. But I could always run again.
"I heard you both talking." Antonio was at the door, a backpack over one shoulder, peering in at us. "I hate to rush it, but Pav, do you think you're up for leaving straight away and eating in the car? We better get moving."
She nodded, standing, silky dark hair somehow avoiding the crazy bed tangles I got. We headed out after him, into the lift.
"Nick's out the front with the car, waiting. No point trying to hide your scent trail, really, they'll have issues following you once you're in the car. Apple." An apple, offered to Pav, and he waited till she had accepted it before continuing. "Your situation is unique so, for the time being, the pack is offering you protection. I'll explain more in the car when we're out of the city."
The lift stopped, a couple joining us, and Antonio nodded at them as he went quiet. We stood there. Tiny box. Jerky, sometimes, like a little cage.
My heart sped up.
Then the doors opened into the lobby and I relaxed. Scolded myself. Silly Anne, I thought, getting jumpy about a lift now.
We followed him outside. There was a car, expensive I had to assume, all shiny with dark tinted windows and paint that still had the shiny reflective look about it. A small trailer was at the end, boxes there, moving boxes with a tarp across them. Nick got out of the driver's seat, allowing Antonio to get in, and Pav was offered the front seat. She was looking sick already, as if walking had been bad enough, so I couldn't blame them for offering her that one. I slid into the back, Nick on the other side already, the car and trailer already pulling away into the city street as the door clicked closed with a soft sound.
I could smell something else in there, the smell of death, glancing backwards. Towards the back of the car, where additional things were stacked, smaller boxes, plastic bags, suitcases. The smell was gone as fast as I'd smelt it, just a quick whiff, so faint that I doubted anyone would notice without the right kind of nose.
"Is he there?" I pictured the dead hunter, eyes wide, neck broken.
"Yes.." Antonio said softly. "The trailer was hired before we knew about that, however, with a horde of Christmas presents for a small army, requests for specific things. Suddenly we needed a trailer."
"Christmas?"
"It's only twelve days away. What's that song? Twelve days of Christmas, my true love gave to me..."
Nick snorted, smacking the back of Antonio's head. "Stop that, I've already heard it enough in the shops."
I gazed out the window. I had noticed that New York seemed Christmas obsessed. It hadn't sunk in though, hadn't mattered enough for further investigation, but now it was obvious. No snow though.
"Doesn't it snow for Christmas?"
"Sometimes. If we're good boys and girls." Nick answered. Eyes on me. It was bizarre, every time our eyes met, as if he was waiting for me to say something to him. Now that I thought about it, it'd always been the same tense hesitation, the pause, waiting for some sort of conversation I had no clue I was meant to give.
So I only returned his gaze a moment, before I got distracted by the city once more.
As we would slow, maybe in traffic, or at a light, Antonio would discreetly let his hand drop out the driver door, as did Nick. I didn't notice it at first, except for the overwhelming scents that liked to rush into the window from the city streets. It took me half an hour before I really took notice and understood. They both held a strip of of clothing, different kinds, I could recognise mine and guessed the other was Pav's clothing. Cut down into a tiny long strip of fabric that would slap against the street at an intersection, or against another car, or a light.
Scent marking. They were muddling up our trail. Clever... I wondered why I hadn't thought of that. Probably because I didn't have a car to do it with.
The city passed by and the windows went up as we reached the tunnel itself.
Then out into the outsides. City, still, but less spectacular. Smaller buildings. As we drove, they continued to shrink, till gaps of land started to appear, sometimes just empty lots, and houses started to dot between the small buildings. Nick and Antonio seemed to be repeating the pattern, and I felt dizzy, aware that we weren't exactly driving in a straight line. Or was I confused? Everything looked the same to me. Here it was still very 'American suburb' but it could have been Australian too, from time to time, the houses and footpaths and big tree,s it was sometimes like I hadn't gone anywhere, except perhaps for the Christmas decorations in the obvious winter chill, puddles instead of browning grass, kids racing around in winter gear instead of shorts and swimware.
"Who did that to your back, Anne?" Nick's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, eyes on my shoulder instead of on me.
I didn't want to answer. But I did automatically, using the name that I couldn't quite shake, muttering,"My Maste-"
He growled so loudly it cut me off and I flinched, flinched at the anger cut into me. Like I'd done something wrong. I suddenly felt jumpy as he added, his teeth bared slightly, "You don't have one. No one does."
There was a warning from the front. "Nick..."
Trying to ignore him out of the corner of my eye, I tried to explain, my heart racing just a bit faster as I wondered how stable this man was beside me. In the back seat. Alone with me. "It's habit. Saying that word. I didn't say it, he'd do exactly what you saw on my back, he was just waiting for an excuse. I tried to not say it. He'd give me as many as he felt like, wait till it'd half healed, and start again. That was how I found out werewolves heal fast." I bit my lip. Wasn't sure why I was explaining myself, why I had to, but somehow I felt like I had to continue, voice hard, eyes fixed on his, "I don't think of him as my master. No one will ever be and when I kill him, he'll know exactly how little he really had control over me." Anger, soft, stubborn, hidden till now, my eyes hardening as I stared at my knees. I tried to release that anger. It wasn't helpful. "Sorry. Saying that is a bad habit to break, saying that name, it's almost lost all meaning."
"How long were you there for?" Nick's face was tense. He looked at me, same expression of expectation, like he knew the answer, like he was still waiting for me to say something to him. It was strange. He acted like we'd met.
"I don't remember." I almost snapped that, tense suddenly also, but I did have an idea. His question made me think about something I had refused to, had deliberately put aside, a possibility so fucking terrible that I couldn't think about it. It made all kinds of bad feelings rise again. Anger. Not at these people but at the ones responsible.
"When did you leave?"
"Nick..." Another warning from the front. Eyes meeting in the mirror again. I had never really believed the 'father son' story they'd given earlier but now it was obvious which of them was older. His eyes snapped to mine before they were back on the road. "Anne, you don't have to answer that."
Nick's eyes moved away to the road going past us, teeth clenched, fingers rapping on his leg.
__________________________________________________
Please help me get readers for this story by voting right here!
|
|
V