A/N: After an extremely long hiatus I finally found some extra time and the energy to finish another update! I apologize for the long delay and I hope that you all enjoy this update. I can make no promises about when the next update will be available, but I hope that the break between updates will not be this long again. Happy reading everyone!
Before this whole mess started, I had never passed out of fainted in my life. Now, however, I felt that I was almost adjusting to awaking from an unconscious state. Unlike the first few times, I knew I was alive and not dreaming very early in the process. My head was throbbing so painfully that I could feel each individual beat of my heart. The sensation hurt too much not to be real. Unfortunately, however reassuring it was to feel my pulse, it was also extremely disorienting. It felt like hours before any of my other senses were prominent enough to fitfully overcome the throbbing in my skull.
It was my hearing which rallied first, but the sounds that I heard were confusing at best. Muffled voices, slamming doors, the soft thud of feet against stone, and ripping fabric. They did nothing to help identify where I was or what was happening. I couldn't put anything into context.
Smell came next.
Wherever I was, the stale air smelled like mothballs and the pungent rusty smell of blood. Was it my blood? Most likely. Somehow though I couldn't find the strength to be overly concerned about that fact for the moment.
What took the longest was opening my eyes.
They didn't just pop open like I wanted them to and I definitely didn't blink twice and yawn like an awaking sleeping beauty. It was a struggle to even force my eyelids to move and when they did they seized uncontrollably for a few minutes before I could try to focus on anything. When I could, my vision was blurry and distorted. The wolrd seemed off kilter and the colors of every shape around me swirled together like a kaleidoscope. After much struggle I was fianlly able to sit up with shaking muscles, gripping the sides of the bed for support.
At least I deduced that it was a bed, as uncomfortable as it was.
It was the right shape and height to be a bed. This plus the fact that I was covered in some sort of sheet I felt comfortable with the deduction. As I shakily rubbed my hands over my eyes, I realized a few more things as my vision adjusted.
My hands were no longer bound.
The only evidence of the cold metal cuffs left were two white bandages around my wrists. They must have been covering the deep gouges in my skin where the metal sliced flesh. Eerily, I remembered the sensation of blood tricking from my wrists down my arms. The white bandages were a much preferred sight.
I was sitting in a dingy bedroom.
The space was obviously not in the nicer portion of the city. The lighting was dim, the wallpaper was peeling, and what little furniture that was in the room was old and worn. Werewolves would not live in an area which looked so run down. It was clean though, so it had to be lived in by someone.
Humans. This was a residence of a human.
I happened to catch my reflection in a mirror which was across the room and flinched at my appearance. My hair was still red but it was wild looking and full of knots, my eyes were so blood shot they almost matched the fake color of my hair, there was a bandage on my head, and a dark purple bruise extended down from the edge of the bandage to my chin on one side of my face. I could tell that it was only hours old by the heat and swelling that stretched the flesh.
My clothing wasn't the same.
I was wearing a loose fitting pair of sweatpants and a cotton shirt that was wide in the shoulders but short in the arms. They were dry and warm at least so I guess that it was an improvement. I tried to move my legs and felt pain shoot up from an area that felt constricted. I pulled back my pants leg to see yet another starch white bandage constricting my leg. I had almost forgotten about that injury.
Someone had patched me up?
The door opened and I about leapt out of my skin, turning to face the intrusion and automatically reaching for my gun. It wasn't as big of a surprise when my hand came up empty, but it was a surprise to see who came through the door.
I had forgotten about Beta Samuels.
In fact I had forgotten most of what the hell had happened before my unplanned mental hiatus. Now as he stood in the doorway, broad shouldered and silent, I remembered every detail of our last encounter. The terrifying boat ride, the frigid turbulent water, the drunken men accosting me, and then the Beta's surprise intervention.
I didn't kill your father....but I know who did.
I didn't kill your father.
I know who did.
"Good, you're awake." The Beta monster stated, walking toward me with something in his hands. I flinched back, holding my bandaged hands in front of me in my best attempt at defense. In this state I probably just looked like a fish out of water.
"Get away from me." I growled, hitting the wall with my back. I wanted to maximize the space between us. I was obviously in no condition to fight or to run away but the action helped my nerves just the same.
I hated not having a method for defense, like my gun before. However, my show of distrust must have been enough for the monster because he stopped his approach.
"It's food. You need to eat." He said as he put the plate that was in his hands on the end table beside the bed. I watched the muscles in his arms flex and contract as he did so, waiting for him to make a move against me. He didn't though, and a small part of me intuitively knew that he wouldn't. If he planned on hurting me he would have had the opportunity to do so while I was unconscious; instead my injuries had been treated and he was currently serving me food.
I didn't kill your father.
I know who did.
"Where am I?" I barked, keeping my gaze fixed upon the oddly unconcerned giant. He raised his grey eyes to hold my gaze for the first time since he entered the room. I couldn't help notice once again how there was something different in his continence, something that defied the role of the emotionless but dangerous enforcer I had characterized him to be in my mind.
He looked tired.
Even I was unimpressed with that summation of my observations, but I could think of nothing else that fit them. His typically ridged posture had fallen a little lax, his shoulders drooping lower than normal, the corners of his mouth were turned town in an unmistakable grimace instead of a tight poker face line, and instead of the aloof disinterest in which his cool eyes usually regarded me, I was met with silver orbs of intense (if not a little unsettling) focus.
His only response to my panicked interrogation was to sigh and roll his shoulders, releasing a small fatigued groan as he did so. It was yet another expressive gesture that I was not prepared for, an indication that he knew the conversation we were about to have was going to be exhausting and he was physically preparing himself for the task. His annoyance made my skin crawl with the impulse to strike him. What right did he have to feel annoyed or daunted by the task of answering my questions? It was his fault I had them to begin with.
"We are in a human subunit in the lower district, just a few blocks from where I found you." He replied in a monotone, the sudden base of his voice made my muscles jump slightly. I frowned in annoyance at the response.
"And the people who live here?" I asked, making my tone accusing to cover the slight tremor of uncertainty I knew was trying to make its way to the surface. What if he hurt them? What had he done to them?
"Were nice enough to let us stay here temporarily." He said calmly as he stepped away from the bed to take a seat in a chair which was across the room. Even if the retreat was only a matter of a few feet, it provided a massive amount of relief to my fears. "I needed to get you off the street."
"Why did I need to get off the street?" I immediatly demanded, realizing belatedly how absolutely belligerent I sounded. He sighed and raised one dark weary eyebrow while ne narrowed his eyes.
"You we were passed out, injured, and you have a whole city of werewolves looking for you for a number of reasons. Your antics caused quite a stir." He rejoined in a bored tone.
I sat back and stared at him, unwilling to trust him but also not finding any holes in his story so far. All the while he stared back at me, seemingly unaffected by my distrust or distaste. His facial features were as calm as a cucumber while I was completely and utterly at war with myself. Everything I knew told me I shouldn't trust him, that I should get as far away from him as I could as quickly as possible, but...
I know who killed your father.
"Who put these bandages on me?" I ended up snapping to fill the stressing silence that had lagged behind my last integration.
"I did but the woman that lives here changed you." He immediately replied, leaning back in his seat by the door. His statement confused me and disturbed me even further.
"You put bandages on me? Since when do werewolves know first aid?" I snapped, feeling my voice begin to rise in pitch. To say I was freaking out would be a severe understatement. My heart was sending pounding pulses in my head and my breathing was rapid and shallow.
"Before the reveal all those years ago I was in the army. First aid was part of the basic training I received." He replied. It was weird to hear this hulk of a man speak so calmly. It was weird to even have a conversation with him. If that was what we were having.
"Why didn't you just use your blood to heal me?" I asked warily. While I was glad that he did not unwittingly cause me to go into anaphylactic shock by inserting his stupid mutant blood into me improperly, I was still curious.
"I know you have a sensitivity. Aside from the fact that it is my job to know practically everything about everyone, I also happen to be old friends with Sean. He can't keep his mouth shut for five minutes about anything."
Being reminded that he was friends with that Monster did nothing to help me trust him.
If he was friends with the Monster why would he help me? Did he mean to return me to him? Was he stalling for the beast to arrive to put me back in the cage? Why hadn't he gone after Red?
"Why did you even bother? Why are you doing this?" I asked, not being able to come to a decent conclusion. I couldn't rationalize his behavior in my mind.
"I already told you." He replied calmly, as if he were trying to calm a frightened animal. I didn't like his cryptic behavior, I wanted him to say it. I needed him to say it all again. It couldn't be all in my head. I couldn't let the words he spoke to me in the street be subject to question.
I know who killed your father.
I needed him to say it again.
"Please." I whispered, imploring him to explain. "I need to know. I need to know what happened that night. I...I need to know why-"
"I know." He interrupted bluntly, standing from his seat and walking across the room to a small cracked window which held a blurry view of the street. The transient glow of the street lamp outside made his stone face appear pensive but foreign. I was not used to seeing emotions on this man's face. He was the ice man, but for some reason the dull light on his face made him look normal, vulnerable....human.
"Both my parents were murdered when I was very young, so I can understand the need to know what happened better than most."
His speech shocked me into silence. Murdered?
"But your parents were werewolves." I argued disbelievingly.
"Werewolves are not immortal. We can be killed just like anyone else." He snapped, his eyes flashing black for the first time in our conversation and staring at me in the reflection in the glass, striking me back into silence. My fear however was short lived, the dark color indicative of the beast was gone as quickly as it came. He sighed, blowing a warm breath against the cool cracked glass. "I apologize...I assume you will understand when I say I don't want to talk about it."
I nodded, not having the will to speak. How could I agree with him? How could I agree with a monster?
"I know what you must think of me. You have seen me do horrible things, things I will never be able to fix or be forgiven for." He whispered, still looking out through the window. "But I can help you."
"How?"
"Your father was killed by a very powerful werewolf. A werewolf that even Alpha Steele wouldn't challenge directly. I have no idea why he targeted your father, but there was no doubt that the murder wasn't pre-planned. We had to grant him immunity for the crime or his people promised that they would destroy everything, everyone in the district. Argos was breaking the rules of the agreement by even filing a report, as cryptic as it was. If you couldn't guess, Argos doesn't take kindly to being told what to do."
"Destroy everything? How is that even possible?" I questioned, not believing that a force such as he described existed. No one could get away with that. There were consequences for attacking an allied district, I had been alive to witness retribution dished out against human forces which were offensive. It didn't make sense that they would kowtow to a threat.
"Alpha Steele commands a district, Alpha Anguta commands countries. Besides being one of the most ruthless bastards I've ever had the misfortune to meet, he has almost limitless resources, and practically a hero's reputation amongst many regions. No other territory would dare stand against him, they would probably even think he was justified in killing so many people. The white wolves of Anguta are practically infallible since the revolution."
Throughout the beta's monologue I could only think of one thing.
What in the hell was he talking about?
"Alpha Anguta? Who the hell is that and why haven't I heard of him?" I asked in complete mistrust. Surely I would have heard of anyone that important or powerful. Surely he must be lying to me. Argos did enough to remind us humans of his power over us, a creature more powerful than him would have made his dominance known right?
"Werewolves distrust humans." The Beta responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "There is much of our world that we purposefully hide from you, much that we keep you blind to. Do you think the Allied Districts would want their human subjects to know that there was a more powerful force then all of them? That a single being could cause them to cower in submission? Keeping humans in the dark was a suggestion of Anguta himself." The Beta replied, a deep crease forming on his forehead and a distant haunting look forming in his eyes. "After the hand he has played now I worry that the motivation behind his suggestion was not what as he let us infer."
The Beta's speech confused me further. I felt like we had entered the realm of a political debate, a debate in which I had no interest or concern. Werewolf politics meant little to me and he still hadn't answered the question that had remained unspoken.
"What the hell does he have to do with me?" I demanded, needing to hear him say what I suspected, what I felt in my bones.
"Alpha Anguta killed your father."