by Tara Chau
The days, weeks, years pass in a blur of cold nothing, and only one thing keeps me from giving up the small kernel of hope, of light in me, the one weapon I will use eventually-maybe, and that’s the ancient thing I can still feel fighting back, so, so, slowly.
My name is Dianna Iysador Reeds, and I will not break.
Even as my screams echo and bounce off the black walls, I continue. My throat is burning, the only thing remotely warm inside here. It offers no comfort. It is the only feeling it allows. The pain, the feeling of falling, of yielding my body, and the agony as its ever-growing power slowly tear at my insides. It searches, always searching for more power to cling to, to take.
My name is Dianna Iysador Reeds, and I will not break.
I recite it over and over inside my mind. It never reaches my lips, as the only thing they’re good for these days is letting the screams pass through. I peer into the back of my head, desperate for some distraction, some way to take me from the freezing coldness. I stumble upon a memory, one that seems as though it had occurred an age ago.
“No!”
His scream had shattered my world, but it had not stopped the dagger on its way to my heart. All those days, years ago.
“What’s happening?”
He had asked that in one fleeting minute I had been given, by a Sin that had enough room inside its writhing self for pity. The pure hope, the trust shining from his torn features in that one moment, has been implanted into my head. The smouldering flame inside his eyes, the way they had brightened, just a fraction, sears the insides of my eyelids. Every time I close them, he appears, broken and overflowing with sorrow. The Sin snaps, sending me flying against another somehow solid mass of black. It moves under me. The freezing whip is familiar, inflicted upon my bare body anytime the pain begins to dull. Curling back into another corner, I stare from inside my body, out into a tent, glazed red. And I cringe, cringe to see a vampire kneeling in front of Lucien, cringe to see his neck snapped by a pale-yellow smoke, cringe to feel my body shake… with laughter.
* * *
Annabelle
“Are you bloody crazy? Gods don’t answer that. I know you are!”
The only words that seem to escape her lips, the only ones that she allows anyone to hear. Ty and I simply sit here, like children being scolded, and let Anne rage. Ren just stands in the corner, doing well to hide her amusement, though not from me. After explaining the plan for the second time, Ty and I had readied ourselves for the explosion that was to come. Over and over, her hysterical words slice through the air, making me nod in agreement as if in a daze.
“Anne,” Ty dares. I hold my breath, and my sound of warning goes unnoticed.
“No,” she says, shaking her head madly. “No, this is when you listen, and I scream at the top of my lungs.”
“And how long will this last?” I bark. Ty looks at me like I could possibly have a death wish.
“Until it reaches your brain.” She snaps, crossing her arms.
“We came to see if you would help, Anne,” I sigh. “But we can do it without you if that is what you decide.”
“Just because you’re crazy doesn’t mean it’s a bad plan.” She says begrudgingly, “I’ll come with you. I’m not leaving her fate in your hands.”
I swallow the rising anger and just nod my thanks, looking away as Ty embraces her, unable to watch the contact. Ren pushes off the wall and strolls over to me, gazing down at me. I meet her gaze, cold and unyielding, so unlike Di’s.
“What?” I demand.
“Everything reminds you of her, right?” She ventures, silencing Anne and Ty’s murmuring.
I only continue to look at her, not granting her the satisfaction of a reaction. However, her eyes turn soft as she breaths slowly, not in pity but understanding. It may be the way she smiles, ever so slightly, or just how much the colossal weight suffocates, but I nod.
“I know-I know how you feel.” That is all she says, not offering anything further, no explanation.
“Does the… the heaviness ever go away?” I ask desperately.
Ren shakes her head sadly. “No, Max, but it does fade.”
Standing slowly, I look at the three of them. “Tell the others. We’ll do this as soon as the moon wanes.”
Striding from Anne’s room, I walk out of the house and run. Three minutes later, I am standing at her door, hand poised to knock. I hesitate. Henry has a right to know. He has the right to know that his daughter is… gone.
“Wait.” The voice is soft, young.
Looking behind me, I blanch as a small girl, perhaps ten, looks up to me. “You should wait.” She repeats.
“For what?” I ask, straining to keep the harshness from my voice and face.
“For her to come back.” She says, her face grim but knowledgeable, “or until you know for sure. Then he has a right to know. But if you tell him that she might be gone, he’ll spend his time in one-hundred times more pain.”
I look down at the small girl who somehow knows everything. Her face is flushed as if she had run to catch up to me, yet I didn’t hear her. She nods to me, her ebony hair dipping to her collarbone, her lashes dark framing her red-rimmed eyes.
“You’re magic,” she says smiling, showing a missing tooth, “so maybe you should learn how to become invisible.” She advises before running back down the driveway and disappears around the corner.
Lowering my hand, I walk away from the door. Knowing that Henry is behind that door, in just as much, maybe more pain as me, I still walk away. Steadying my breath, I continue forward, back to the Sanctuary. A loud, cruel voice yells from behind me. I turn to see the little girl cowering in front of a lady, equally as gorgeous as her daughter.
“I told you, do not talk to strangers.” She hisses, grabbing hold of her wrists violently and dragging her back towards their front door. “Let’s see what happens when your father comes home later, Raven.”
Raven, a miraculous little girl, and she nor her parents will ever know. I am about to walk over to them when the door swings shut, and the yells die down. The girl was able to see past glamour’s, past shields, past our protections. I make a mental note to come back for this little girl and offer her a chance to escape her reality into my own.
I sprint the rest of the way back, watching the trees pass by in a rush of green and black, my eyes seeing each shape clearly through the dark. I don’t stop until I’m inside the lobby, striding for the stairs instead of the lift, needing the movement to steady myself.
“Jones!”
I let out a sigh of frustration, not bothering to make my face pleasant as I turn to face Dante.
“What is it?” I ask impatiently.
“Daniel and Astrid wish to see you.” He says, stopping a few metres away, surveying my body. “Now,” he clarifies.
Turning around, I don’t bother with thanking him as I jump the flights of stairs, down to the bottom. Averting my gaze from others, I ignore the urge to lash out as they begin to murmur the recent outrageous rumours. The people before me cleave in two as I weave my way through the desks and stations through to the door on the other side of the room.
“Make way,” A boy calls, half a glance, and I’m sure that it’s Lachlan, a boneheaded halfwit. “Dead man walking!”
The door to Daniel’s office swings open as I raise my hand to knock, revealing a sad-faced Astrid and a cold, ruthless Daniel, who is nearly erupting with raging anger. I cut him a glare; the colour from his tanned skin seeps into nothing as he inclines his head in apology. Dead man indeed.
Astrid points to a seat on the opposite side of Daniel’s desk and takes up her spot on the left of me against the wall. Lowering myself into the chair, I look to Daniel, moulding my face into an unreadable, unbreakable mask. Or so I hope. It takes too much for me to hold my tongue, but if I am here, then there has already been enough damage done. I wait for the onslaught of questions, demands, and accusations, watching as Astrid shi
fts stiffly. Daniel finally looks up from his papers.
“Do you know why you’re here?” He asks, his face and voice are masked.
Do any of us? But that is not what he’s asking, so I simply continue to look at him, refusing to back down from his fuming eyes.
“Do you know what you have cost us?” He demands.
Do I know what I have cost them? I know how much I have cost them; I know all too well how much damage I’ve done. Again, I just stare ahead, some dark part of me laughing at Daniel’s rising anger.
“Gabe.” Astrid coaxes, trying to soften me enough for an answer.
The pure sadness in her voice, the longing and knowing eyes she bares into me, has me giving one curt nod.
“And do you, Gabe, know how to fix this mess you’ve created?” Daniel asks, giving his wife one short appreciative smile.
“Yes,” I whisper, which I cringe to hear.
“How,” he says, not a question.
“That is for my group to know and me and for you and your Counsel to find out.” I seethe, rising from the chair.
Looking to Astrid, I begin walking back to the door, my hand on the handle just as Daniel’s voice filters through the room again.
“Do it soon, or I’ll find someone else to finish this.”
Like hell. Like hell will anyone go near her, touch her, kill her; the idea of having someone that she didn’t know, didn’t love finishing this. It causes my fists to clench, my head to throb with icy rage, resulting in a crushed doorknob between my fingers. I stride through the archway and back into the mass of people, right to my room. I shut the door.
* * *
Annabelle
Three days. It has been three days since Gabe had shut his door. Three days since he’d shut himself in and everyone out. Five days have passed since the battle, and my limbs still wine with each movement, however slight. Five days since we left her to be trapped inside her own body, being controlled by Sin. Approaching the door for the third time in the past two hours, I knock again.
“Food is a necessity of life,” I yell. “Baloo, the bear said that himself!”
A quiet rustle comes from inside, and I hear the slight shuffle of feet as a dull thump bangs against the wall. Tapping my knuckles against the door lightly, I travel all the way down until the sound changes, becomes more solid. Gabe is currently curled up against the door. I sit on the ground, back pressed against the barrier Gabe refuses to remove.
With mine and his back against the wood, I remember all those years ago, where this had happened day after day after day. For hours, we would both sit against the door, him inside, me outside. That’s how it had always been, for some degree at least. I begin to hum the tune from an old movie, Frozen?
Anything to get him to laugh, even to smile, as I know he hasn’t done all week, none of us have. The tune plays on and on. My humming being carried through the halls and turned away any approaching feet. My hum becomes a quiet off-key singing. I fumble for the words about a snowman and never seeing you anymore, or something like that. The sounds of scratching vibrate through my body, and I let out a silent breath.
Three taps from Gabe: Thank you.
Years ago, we had come up with a code of our own, not even shared with Ty. The only thing we ever kept to ourselves. One tap means yes, two taps mean no, three taps mean thank you, and four taps simply mean not yet. And my one, the one used most frequently, one long scratch against the wood: come back.
The wood hums under me as Gabe repeats the message and as I let myself be satisfied with that little memory. At least we have this. At least he remembers. Another sound comes from inside his room, soft footsteps leading away from the door. I run my hand along with the wood. Come back, I call silently, come back. There is no reply, so I stand and walk away from myself.
It had taken four days last time. When Gabe had finally come back out of his room, it had taken him four days to begin talking again. Longer to build his body back up. But I know that even now, he is training, perhaps more brutally than humanly fair. And the time when the moon wanes, he’ll come out on his own, and he’ll need no words to command our next action, no one will. So, I walk back, joining Ty in the library, and shake my head solemnly. No, no, Gabe is not okay.
* * *
Tytus
“He-he really…” Jess stumbles for the words.
I nod, looking around my room to everyone else. “He really loved her, and still does.”
“I’ve never seen him like this, Ty.” Hayden mumbles.
I look to Anne as she walks in from her fourth attempt with Gabe. She simply stares down at her intertwined hands, and I can practically see the gears in her head whirling.
“It’s been a long time,” I answer.
“Not long enough.” Anne whispers.
Everyone in the room is quiet for a few moments as I let the words sink in, and the plan settles in their minds.
“We’re really doing this?” Jess asks sceptically. “Going behind his back?”
“Yes.” Anne nods, her voice now certain and strong. “We’re going to get her back.”
* * *
The moon’s waning is nearly complete. As I creep out to the den, my Sterling shines like a beacon in the dark, stars glimmer in answer to Sterling’s pulsing glow. Ren’s head rises from behind the mattress I had hauled in here for her, ears turning towards me. In her wolf form, I ignore her growls as I pet behind her ears. To my surprise, I laugh as she begrudgingly tilts her head into my hand. The wolf before me is twice the size of a normal one, almost big enough to ride if needed if it were the right time. Her grey fur flows beneath my hand as I stroke down her spine, waking Ren completely from her drowsiness, again surprising myself with my tender gentleness.
“Let’s go,” I whisper into her ear.
She rises, her back reaching my shoulders. I am almost tempted to dig around for a collar, only to spite her. As if sensing this, a low growl escapes her maw, Ren’s long canines reflecting the disappearing moonlight.
Quick, we would have to be quick. Even confined to his room, Gabe will know when to emerge when to be ready. And with us nowhere inside the Sanctuary, he will know, as I would if roles were reversed. As the wind rips at us, Ren shivers despite the lush fur that covers her body. With my hand still pressing against her side, not in warning but comfort, I speak softly.
“Sorry for what Gabe did the other day,” I say, referring to when he had struck her across the face, leaving a nasty purple welt against her jaw. Although we don’t stop walking, Ren turns to face me, her ever-changing grey eyes looking at me closely. One blink, like she accepts the apology but is unable to voice it due to her form.
That day, when I had followed Gabe back into the house, ready to demand why he had done it, I saw the calculative look in his eyes, the plan, and known. I had explained it to Ren later on and had come back the next day to find new cuts and bruises scattered over her half-naked body, self-inflicted. She could never walk back into the camp after months of questioning without even a scratch.
I feel a shudder rack through her body as we round the corner to approach the rest of them. It would have been un-noticeable had I not still been leaning against her. She senses that and steps away once realising I have no plan for myself. The cold sting of the night against my unprepared hand makes me wince, and I swear that she huffs a laugh.
“We have to be quick,” Anne says, looking to the Sanctuary as if Gabe will come barrelling down the street.
We travel the rest of the way together, in silence and quiet fear. I find myself looking to Ren, more than necessary, and sometimes find her looking back at me, something like an apprehensive nervousness shining in her large eyes. As we slip into the ally and stare down at the boarded entrance, I hear multiple intakes of breath before everyone’s gaze finds Ren, still in wolf form. I look away at the sound of cracking bones and the wine of pain that comes from her, only looking back once the human sound of pan
ting fills the ally. Everyone does a double take as we behold her naked ruined body, caked in wounds deep and true, the black under her eyes bulging as if she had purposefully deprived herself of sleep.
“A bit much,” Hayden grumbles.
True, even the questioners never went to those lengths, never resulted in cutting so deep to see bone. It is a miracle that she can even move.
“Had to do something to keep me entertained.” She replies wickedly, though the pain and heaviness in her eyes betray her words.
It was decided that she would travel as a wolf and morph back to make it look like she escaped and had not been pampered and well looked after.
Ren looks down at the crack Jess has cleared for her, big enough for her to slip through without her body needing to contact the splintering wood. My ears deceive me as I hear her breaths begin to shake, as she begins to mould the look of pure agony and defeat onto her face, not a hard task. Ren dips to the ground, sitting on the edge and swinging her legs, allowing herself time to become accustomed to a human form again. Just as she places her hands against the ground to push off, I step forward.
“Be careful,” I blurt.
Ren looks up at me, her eyelids blinking once, just like before. Understanding is what passes between us, new but somehow deep. Then she plunges into the dark, the only sound following her quiet hiss as she hits the top of the stairs. A small sound comes from behind me, perhaps a laugh, maybe a groan. I turn to see Hayden smiling slightly at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Tytus has grown a liking for the Lycan.” He says proudly.
“Tytus has a girlfriend,” Anne hisses, “and has bigger things to think and worry about.”
