Authors: Laken Cane
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban
She did not want to walk into his
office.
For two minutes she stood with her
forehead pressed again his closed door, dread coating her stomach like sour
milk.
She ignored the footsteps that
slowed behind her as RISC employees hesitated then hurried on, their heels
clicking on the hard floor.
They knew she was freaky.
Finally, she went inside.
Jeremy was sitting on the edge of
his desk with his arms crossed, waiting for her. He looked so normal and
familiar that for a moment she could only stare at him, trying to remember what
it was she suspected him of in the first place.
He opened his arms and it took
everything she had not to go to him. She clenched her fists and stared him
down.
“No, dude. None of that. Let’s
talk.”
He shrugged and put his arms down.
“You look well. All better.”
“And you’re not at all surprised by
that, are you?”
He went behind his desk and sat
down. “Sometimes, Rune, you are just…”
“What? Clueless? Stupid?” She
walked closer to his desk. “Slow?”
He steepled his fingers. “There is
no reason for you to beat yourself up.”
She sneered. “Of course not. That’s
your job, isn’t it?”
“Don’t blame me. You asked for it.
You wanted it.”
“You could have said no,” she
whispered, and only at that moment did she realize it was true. “None of my
crew would have hurt me no matter how much I might have asked them to.”
“It’s what we do, Rune. Take responsibility
for it. Running from shit is one reason you’re so fucked-up.”
“You don’t know anything about it.
Or about me. I thought you wanted to help make my pain go away.” She thumped
her chest. “The pain here. But that wasn’t true, was it?”
“Sweetheart, we’re both fucked-up.
We like a little pain. You like to get it, and I like to give it. No need to—”
“Shut up, Jeremy. Just…shut the
fuck up.”
“You can take anything I can give
you. You proved that last time, and we both know it’s because—”
“Stop it.”
“—you’re a monster.”
She shook her head. Coldness
settled into her heart and numbed her brain. She did not want that word to come
from his mouth. Not about her. “No.”
“Of course you are. But I fucked
you anyway. I made you feel good, didn’t I?”
“No.”
He laughed. “Oh baby. I made you
feel so good. Now let me ask you this. Why the
fuck
do you want to ruin
everything?”
Do not back down. Do not back
down.
“You’re a very bad person.”
Shit.
“You’re a very bad person,” he
mimicked.
She swallowed hard. “It isn’t
right, Jeremy. What you’re doing to the Others.”
“Let me ask you. Why is okay if I
do it to you, but when I do it to the other monsters, you get all bent out of
shape?”
She fondled the familiar handle of
one of her shivs and didn’t answer.
He leaned back in his chair, his
eyes cold. “I am very disappointed in you.”
“And I think you’re a psychotic
piece of garbage. So
?” Good. Better.
“You’re not going to let this go,
are you?”
“No. I can’t. You’re abusing
innocent women, aren’t you?”
Now the denial would begin. The
pleas for her to keep her mouth shut and he’d stop. The hurt feelings.
“Yes,” he said. “But I would never
refer to the monsters as innocent.”
She stepped back, her hand going to
her chest. “What?”
He smiled. “You’re not really
surprised, are you?”
For a moment she couldn’t speak.
“I’m surprised you’d admit it.”
“Why? You’re a little speck of
fluff, Rune. Nothing you can say to anyone will affect me in any way. And do you
want to know why it won’t?”
“You’re delusional.”
“Because you’re an
Other.
”
She wanted to pull her monster to
her and raise her chin with pride. She wanted to laugh in his face and scream
Yes,
I’m an Other.
But she stood before him while each
word he spoke wove a tapestry of shame and hatred so tightly around her she was
sure she’d never, ever break free.
I am an Other.
“And,” he went on, “because you
have no proof. Do you think the groups will admit to anything? Hell
no
,
they won’t!” His grin was spiked with madness. “Oh, but there is a bigger
reason.
“Go on—ask me what the big reason
is.” He waited.
She said nothing.
“Fine. I’ll tell you anyway.”
God, he was enjoying himself.
“The biggest reason why is because
you’re going to say
nothing
. You’re going to turn around and walk your
fine little ass out of my office, and we’re going to pretend this conversation
never happened. And I’ll go on enjoying my girls—and even
you,
if you’re
lucky enough for me to want you after this.”
“I don’t think so.” She ground her
teeth when her voice broke. Why the fuck did he scare her so much? And why was
her monster hiding? Maybe her monster was smarter than she was. Maybe because
he knew, as she should have known, that things were about to get worse. So much
worse.
“Come here,” he said.
“I’m reporting you, Jeremy.”
“Come
here
, Rune.” His voice
was gentle. So gentle. “Come on.”
She had to get a grip. “No. But let
me tell
you
what’s going to happen now. I’m going to walk my fine little
ass out of your office and take it straight to the director. He doesn’t want
this shit and you know it. Once the Other rights groups catch on to this…” She
smiled. “You’re in so much trouble. You’re a fucking Other rapist.” She turned
and headed for the door, shaking. “It’s over, Jeremy.”
“Fine. But I do have something you
need to see. Please.”
She knew better than to look.
Knew
better. But she turned and walked back to the desk. “Show me.” She was
terrified he’d show her pictures of the Others being abused, and didn’t want to
look. But she would.
He clicked a mouse button and
turned his monitor toward her. “Watch.”
A video began to play—shaky and
blurry at first, but then it stabilized and sharpened. It was her, lying
spread-eagle on her bed, her wrists and ankles fitted into thin silver cuffs.
Oh God.
The girl on the bed was screaming,
but there was no sound, just her wide-open mouth and pain, so much pain.
Horror slid through her. And pity, pity
for the girl on the bed and her brokenness.
Jeremy wielded his knife with enthusiasm,
cutting, slicing, carving.
Oh God that hurts.
Someone else was in the room,
recording the video. That he’d let someone else watch and record the horror was
something she could hardly believe even Jeremy would do, but there it was.
Her monster came to the surface. It
was there in her eyes. Their vivid blue was covered with crimson blood, hot
fire. And the girl just screamed.
Little white fangs dropped, but the
monster was as helpless as an infant.
She’d done that. She’d hurt her
monster, starved him, hated him. And when that wasn’t enough, she’d let Jeremy cut
him. Torture him.
The camera followed the knife as it
sliced into her pale, small body, doing things to her no human could ever have
survived. Then the man she could not see zoomed in on her eyes, where the
monster lived.
She couldn’t bear to look but
couldn’t turn away.
Your monster is you, Rune.
She grabbed the monitor, ripped it
free from the computer, and flung it into the wall.
Finally, her monster joined her. And
both of them went after Jeremy.
He jumped to his feet, a handgun in
his fist, aimed at her. He squeezed the trigger, and she felt the air move as
the bullet whizzed by her head.
She didn’t care. She
should
die, and she wanted to take him into death’s darkness with her. She prayed
there were demons in the afterlife to give them both what they deserved.
Dimly, she was aware of the office
door bursting open, of running feet and loud yells, but her focus was on
Jeremy. The blood had drained from his face, leaving him pasty white beneath
his artificial tan.
The next bullet found her.
She nearly fell as the bullet went
through her arm. She forced herself steady, shaking off the pain. She was
flying high on adrenaline and didn’t care about the pain. Not her. She
embraced
it.
Two uniforms tackled her as the
berserker rammed his huge body into Jeremy, knocking the gun out of his grip
and sending the RISC captain into the wall.
There was only white noise in her
head. White noise and bloodlust.
Until the berserker turned to look
at her.
“Strad,” she cried.
He reached her numb, shaking body
in two seconds and snatched her into his arms. His eyes were shooting blue fire
but were steady, and deep inside them she found the only harbor she’d ever
known. In his eyes and in his arms. Safe. He was safe.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured.
“I need something for the pain,”
she whispered.
He didn’t even pretend to think she
meant for her arm. “I’ll take you home.”
The pain roared over her then,
burning a hole through her arm. It was as though someone pushed burning sticks
through her flesh, and she couldn’t shake it off.
“Fuck, that
hurts,
” she
wailed, and for a second was surprised she was being a girl. A normal, hurt
girl.
She was too tired, and her monster
wasn’t helping. But he would.
Jeremy’s two men were at his side,
helping him to his feet, their faces carefully blank. Other employees crowded
the door.
Jeremy pointed his finger at her.
“Open your mouth, and I’ll make you a
famous
monster.”
Strad carried her to the door, and
the people gathered there scattered before he reached it. He let her down, and
she stood there, frozen, as he strode back to Jeremy.
Jeremy continued, his voice growing
louder with each word. “Remember, or everyone will see.
Everyone!
”
She had no doubt.
Ignoring the two cops by Jeremy’s
side, Strad grabbed him by the throat and shoved him against the wall. “I will
deal with you later.” His voice held a dark promise.
For a moment, she thought—hoped—Strad
would choke the life out of him right then and there. But at last he let his
captain drop to the floor and walked back to Rune.
Jeremy wouldn’t wait to see if she
turned him in or not. He would discredit her as quickly and as irreversibly as
possible.
In hours the video would be on the
news, and life as she knew it would be over.
Strad carried her to his truck and
belted her in, his movements sure and quick. For once she was thankful he was
so big. His body hid her from prying eyes. She needed a moment to gather
herself, to regroup.
To scrub away the red-tinged tears
making gruesome tracks down her cheeks.
“God,” she said. “I’m such a…such a
big fucking mess.”
He lingered, pulling her hair from
under the seat belt and smoothing it over her shoulder. “Yeah. You are.” But he
said it gently. So gently. “You won’t want the hospital?”
She knew it wasn’t really a
question. She shook her head. “I’ll heal.” But
fuck
. Getting shot hurt
like a son of a bitch.
Her entire arm was useless at the
moment, but her monster would take care of her. He always did, when she gave
him half a chance.
The berserker climbed in under the
wheel and drove out of the parking lot, eyeing her with some concern but not
bothering her with questions.
She was grateful. Most people would
have been unable to keep quiet. But maybe Ellis was right—maybe Strad was a
classy guy. Maybe.
He pushed some numbers into his
phone as she stared out the window. “She’s okay,” he told the other party. “Had
a run in with Cross. Got shot.” His voice was even and impersonal, as though he
were telling a story.
She looked at him, smiling despite
the last hour of hell. The berserker was one strange fuck. “Who are you talking
to?”
He pulled the phone away from his
ear and stared at it, then held it out to her. “He’s hysterical. You’d better
take this.”
“Who?” she asked, taking the phone.
“Hello?”
“Rune,” Ellis yelled. “What the
blasted hell?”
She sighed. “Next time let me break
the news of my close calls, okay, Berserker?”
He stared straight ahead, but she
saw his perpetually raised eyebrow go up an inch. “I told him I’d let him know
the next time you were hurt.”
“I’m fine, Ellie.”
“Tell me what happened. Do you need
a bag?”
“No, baby. It’s just a little
wound. I’ll tell you about it when I see you. I don’t want to talk about it
right now.”
“I’m coming over. I’ll be there in
twenty minutes.”
“Ellis, don’t—”
He hung up.
They drove the rest of the way in
peaceful silence, the only sound coming from the truck’s heater. She didn’t
want to go home. It was peaceful in the truck. No one needed her, and there
were no worries about an unforgiving world catching sight of a horrible,
horrible part of her life. No one was bombarding her with questions…
“You’re going to need to tell me
what that was about back there.”
She groaned.
He relented. “Tell me later. But
Jeremy Cross shot you. That’s not going to be something you can hide,
Alexander.”
“What’s going to happen?”
He smiled. The evenly spaced
streetlights highlighted his face for brief intervals as he drove toward her
street. His smile was not kind.
She could feel the controlled
violence coming from him and was sure if she reached out a finger to touch his
arm the shock might have shoved her through the door.
She shivered, remembering her
deep-seated fear of the berserker. He could be a scary man, and she was happy
not to be on the receiving end of that blackness.
Her fear was not unwarranted.
When he pulled into her driveway
she automatically released her belt and reached for the door handle.
“Don’t,” he said.
She paused and grasped for a remark
to put him in his place, but by then he’d already marched around the truck and
was lifting her from her seat.
“I can walk, Berserker.”
“I can carry you, Alexander.”
His scent was crisp and clean and
male and wrapped around her like a warm blanket. But there was something
else—something besides warmth.
His muscles moved against her body,
his chest hard against her palm. As though sensing the difference in her
thoughts he looked down at her, his face close enough to touch.
His eyes were…hot. Hot and dark.
The thought slid through her mind
with a black quickness that left her reeling.
What would it be like if the
berserker took away my pain?
But he would
never
. Strad
was not Jeremy.
She closed her eyes and took her
hand from his chest.
Fucking Jeremy.
She castigated herself all the way
into the house, and by the time he placed her on her feet she was full of self-loathing
and confusion and only wanted him to go away.
“I left my car,” she said.
“I’ll drive it to your house later.”
She’d already given him her keys to open the front door. She watched as he
stuck them into his pocket.
When he came toward her she backed
away, holding up her palms. “No.”
Fuck me for still having my mind in bad
places.
Fuck
me.
He frowned. “I need to check your
wound, Rune.” And the rage inside him colored his eyes a deeper blue. “You will
not be afraid of me.”
Her voice came out in a whisper so
full of tears she could barely force it past her lips. “I’m not.” But she was
afraid. Afraid of something she could not name. She was fucking afraid of him.
And she had no idea why. He wouldn’t hurt her.
No. You’d
like
that.
“I’m not
afraid
,” she said,
her attempts at scorn failing miserably. “I’m just tired. Ellis is coming and
will tend me. Go do your business.”
He stared down at her for what
seemed like hours before finally nodding. “I’ll go as soon as he gets here.”
Before Jeremy has a chance to
run.
He didn’t have to say it. It was there in his eyes.
At that moment Ellis burst through
the door. He ran to Rune and jerked her into his arms, and she saw the
berserker narrow his eyes at her immediate involuntary stiffening at the
contact.
Ellis simply held her tighter. Her
reflexive reaction to touches that weren’t going to hurt her was nothing new to
him. He ignored it.
She couldn’t meet Strad’s eyes.
“Go, Strad. And please…”
“I’ll let you know,” he said, and
strode out the door.
Ellis led her to the bathroom and helped
her off with her weapons and jacket before checking her wound. By that time her
flesh was already mending and the pain, thank God, was less.
“Damn it, Rune.”
“I know. I seem to be inclined
toward violent incidences.” She smiled, trying to ease the look in his eyes.
He washed her arm and began to bandage
it. His eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “Tell me.”
She did. His fingers stilled as she
told him about the video, then without warning he began crying, hard and loud.
“Fuck, Ellie. Don’t do that.”
Someone knocked on the front door,
the thumps tentative. Ellis stared at her, his sobs lessening.
“Probably one of the crew,” she
said, and grimaced as Ellis helped her put her shirt back on. Maybe it was
Strad returning. The thought didn’t exactly displease her. Still, she grabbed a
shiv and stuck it into her pocket, just in case it was someone looking for
trouble—like Jeremy.
But when she flipped the porch
light on and stared out the fisheye, she groaned. It was the three wolves from
earlier. Impatient little bastards.
They hadn’t bothered with coats
despite the sunless cold of the night. Wolves ran hot and didn’t feel the cold
the way humans did.
She’d forgotten about them.
Sherry climbed the steps to the
porch to join them, her face pale. “Alexander.”
Rune nodded and held the door open.
“Come in.”
“There’s a man across the street,”
Sherry told her. “He’s watching the house. Probably because it’s so fucking
ugly, but you never know.” She glanced at the bandage peeking out beneath
Rune’s sleeve but didn’t comment.
Rune shook her arm. It was almost
back to normal.
Already.
A subdued Ellis came into the room.
He nodded hello to the wolves, then turned to Rune. “Call me if you need me.”
He kissed her forehead and left.
Rune walked to the edge of the
porch. “I see him.” He leaned against a streetlight, and was holding something
she couldn’t quite make out. She walked down the steps, Sherry at her back.
“Dude,” she called. “What do you
want?”
He straightened up and began
lifting his hands, and her first thought was that he had a gun. She dove to the
side and came up with a blade in her hand, wishing she’d taken time to buckle
on her guns.
There was no gunfire—the man held
up a camera as she knelt in her yard, her senses on full alert.
“Sorry,” he called. “Just getting a
picture.”
Fucking reporter. She growled and pushed
her blade back into its sheath, tempted to run across the street and scare the
asshole. But she didn’t need to give Spiritgrove another reason to turn against
her.
Not that they were going to need another
reason. By now Jeremy might have shared the video. Dread slid through her body,
settling in its usual, familiar place in the pit of her stomach.
The minute she thought it, a white
news van rolled down the street and came to rest in front of her house. Either
the local news station was bored, or they’d gotten the video. But she really
didn’t think that was it. When that video hit the public, there would be one
hell of an uproar. Not just a single quiet van.
“Better get inside,” Sherry said,
her gaze questioning. “You’re a popular girl, Alexander.”
Rune sighed and went back in. The
three wolves sat around her table, not in the least bit curious about whatever
Rune and Sherry had been wrestling with outside.
The two women had their hands
folded and studied them as though they contained the secrets of the universe.
The man looked at Rune, but his
gaze slid away in seconds. She could smell submission all over them.
Sherry leaned against the wall.
“You have coffee?”
Rune pointed her chin toward the giant
coffeemaker on her countertop. “Help yourselves.”
Sherry pulled a mug off the coffee
tree and glanced at the others. “You guys want coffee?”
“Yeah,” the man said. “We’ll have
some.”
“Okay,” Rune said, when everyone
was settled in with coffee. “Who are you?”
Sherry pointed them out. “Dave
Varn, Anita Dalton, and my sister Amanda.”
Rune studied the little group.
Amanda looked nothing like Sherry and seemed to have none of the other woman’s
audacity. Or maybe she did, in a quieter way. She was the blonde who’d told
Rune it was her fault they were unprotected.
“First,” Rune said, “I need to know
about the wolf Beldane had in his basement. I heard howls…they sounded
tortured.”
“She is healing,” Anita said. “And
alive, thanks to you and Strad Matheson.”
Grateful there was at least some
good news, Rune nodded. “Good. Explain to me what you need.”
“We need an alpha,” Dave said. “You
killed our alpha. That means you get the job.”
“Yeah. Exactly what you said before.
I thought maybe I’d dreamed such an idiotic notion.”
Sherry shrugged. “Not so crazy. You
did knock off Beldane…a little thing I’ll be forever grateful to you for.”
Rune raised an eyebrow. “Are you
turning into a big marshmallow?”
Sherry snorted. “That’ll be the
fucking day.”
“Can we focus?” Anita asked, but
when Rune looked at her she immediately dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
Rune frowned. “For what?”
“Beldane didn’t
allow…insubordination,” Sherry said. “If Anita had been mouthy like that with
him, she’d have been picking up her teeth right about now.”
Rune looked at the three wolves.
“Your alpha was a bully and a piece of shit. Now that he’s gone things will
change for you.”
They said nothing, just shot each
other uneasy glances and refused to look at her.
It pissed her off. “I’m nothing
like Beldane. Why would you be afraid of me?”
Dave finally looked up. “You have
dark things in your eyes, Rune. Dead things. We understand that you wouldn’t
hesitate to kill us.” He shook his head, then shrugged. “And that it wouldn’t
really bother you all that much. Scary? Yeah. You’re fucking scary.”
“You don’t know me.” But even to
her ears, her voice lacked conviction. “So if I’m so evil, why would you want
me to be your alpha?”
“Because you’re a scary fuck to the
other groups as well,” Amanda said. “And we need a scary fuck.”
She realized the wolves were
already thinking of her as their alpha, their protector. That was why they were
being so damn submissive. “I’m not your alpha. I’ll protect you and negotiate
on your behalf, and I’ll kick the ass of anyone who fucks with you. But that’s
it. I can’t be your alpha.”
“But Rune,” Sherry said, as the
wolves looked on with bright eyes and smiles. “That’s exactly what an alpha
does.”
Rune narrowed her eyes. “I’ll do
what I can until you find an actual alpha.” She put her hands on her hips and
stared them down. “Which you’d better do in a fucking hurry.”
The wolves stood. “Thank you,” Dave
said. “Thank you.”
She nodded. “Not long ago I only
protected humans from Others. Now I guess I protect Others from Others. And,”
she added, after thinking about it, “from humans.”
“You protect, period,” Anita said,
and smiled.
“This means a lot to us.” Amanda
walked to Sherry, and again Rune was amazed by their differences. Sherry would
make three of the little wolf.
“Careful of the reporters on your
way out.”
“Why are they harassing you?” Dave
asked.
“My boss decided to make Shiv Crew
celebrities.”
I hope that’s the reason.
Please, let that be the
reason.
Sherry pushed the little group out
the door before turning back to Rune. “I’m sorry about trying to blackmail
you.” She paused, then hurried on. “And I’m sorry about your fucking mom.” She
turned and rushed out the door before Rune could say a word.