“Touch me in any way that I find offensive, and I will give you twice over what I was given last night,” I grumble, my voice hoarse from the cold night air.
“No fun!” Creeper moans, but he is careful to keep his hands on my shoulders and under my knees. I still feel like I have been violated just by his nearness.
He slowly helps carry me up the steps, every footfall jarring the breath from my lungs. He sets me down as soon as we are on the porch, and I cannot get away from him quickly enough. When he walks by Warbler, I watch in horror as he brushes a hand over her hair. “Thank you, Creeper. You have pleased me,” Warbler whispers, her voice growing soft. It reminds me of the tone I’d use when speaking to a lover, and the thought makes my blood run cold.
“Reward tonight?” Creeper asks, his fingers brushing Warbler’s shoulders. Warbler nods once, and Creeper grins widely, holding the door open for us.
“Let’s get you inside,” Warbler addresses me, her words reminding me of an overprotective mother who’s just discovered her child has a freshly scraped knee.
“Please tell me that you and Creeper are not together,” I mumble as I slump gingerly on a ripped chair. As I sink into its tattered leather, I cannot help but wince. My ribs feel as though my lungs are two large birds, beating against their cages in search of escape.
“Creeper, go upstairs to your room,” Warbler calls out before answering my questions. He runs his hands over her hair one final time before he disappears upstairs, a giggle accenting his slapping footfalls. When we are alone, Warbler answers me, at first upset, then seemingly pleased by her words. “Of course we are not together, Mynah! I know better than that! However, I am also aware of the fact that Creeper likes to watch me. I’ve found his peepholes into my room, and we all know about the one in the shower. So, I’ve made him a deal.”
Bittern scoffs behind me, no doubt eavesdropping on our conversation. However, I know that in this instance, she and I will agree. “Warbler, you cannot be serious! You let him watch you—”
“Only if he helps me during the day,” she answers, her sweet voice trilling as though she’s just announced that lunch is served. “Mainly he just likes to hear me sing.”
“Is that what he said?” Bittern steals the words right out of me.
“Well, he watches me get ready to sleep too. But it’s not as gross as it sounds.”
“You have to stop this!” I bellow, immediately regretting my efforts as pain as strong as a horse races up my spine. “You are teasing him, and one day Creeper will take it into his mind to collect.”
“I am fine, Mynah. You do not have to worry about me.” Warbler sniffs, not meeting my eye.
“How long has this been going on?” I inquire, unable to grasp how such a sweet, naïve girl could justify acting like a seductress. They are completely at odds with her otherwise innocent demeanor.
“A few weeks now.” Warbler almost beams with delight at her answer, as if it is a badge of honor. “Part of our deal is that he watches only me. So, the rest of you have nothing to worry about from him.”
That does not comfort me like you seem to think it should. I bite my own tongue to keep from lashing out against her foolishness.
“Warbler, I can understand how you feel.” Bittern tries a different approach, reaching for her hand. “It makes you feel powerful, what you are doing. Also, you think you are helping us by keeping his eyes on you. But it is dangerous, dear. Creeper is not exactly—”
“You know, you beat all I ever did see,” Grouse interrupts from her spot on the dilapidated chair across from us. “Afraid to go outside, afraid to kill for food, afraid to clean your meat, but you’ll let a guy like Creeper watch you undress. Boy, your priorities are all screwy. You are childish, Warbler, if you cannot see that what you are doing is flirting with disaster.”
“I don’t have to listen to you all. It’s my choice, and that’s all that matters to me,” Warbler cries, her arms folding around herself in her anger.
“It is your choice, of course. But are you prepared for the consequences of such actions?” Bittern continues, reaching to pat Warbler’s knee.
Warbler huffs at us, standing up before Bittern can touch her, and trounces up to her room. She slams the door like a petulant teenager.
“That doesn’t win you any points!” Grouse shouts up the stairs. Neither did Warbler’s vulgar curse in response.
“On her own head be it,” Bittern whispers, sadly watching me. “You can’t fix this one, Mynah. She’s going to have to learn this lesson the hard way.”
“I’m not her mother, I know that.” I resign myself to Bittern’s words. “I just wish….” I have no right to judge or protect her from this. Changing the subject as I let my fingers roam along my ribcage assessing the damage, I ask, “What happened last night anyway?”
“After you got your teeth handed to you, Condor and Wren took Panther into the House. They asked him some questions about life in the House of Lions and about Wolf’s whereabouts. Why did you agree to take him in?”
“Is that what Panther told Condor? That I decided to accept him into the House of Vultures myself?” Bittern and Grouse nod to me, Grouse grinning so widely that I think her mask will tip off her creased face. “Son of a—”
“There she is! The leader of the House!” Condor announces sarcastically, and my bones already ache in anticipation of the punishment I’m about to receive.
“Whatever he said, Panther’s mistaken. I did not tell him he could join us.” I try to plead my case. “I told him I would bring him to you, and you would make the decision about his future in the House of Vultures.”
A hand fists into my hair, pulling me off the couch quickly. Falcon kicks my legs out from under me, forcing me onto my knees as Condor shadows over me, his eyes gleaming in his black feathered mask.
“Where is he?” I beg, hating that I am resorting to stooping before these monsters
“The boy? Panther is asleep in your bed. I figured since you are initiating him into our House as our newest member, he’d be yours to keep.”
“I swear to you, Condor, I did nothing wrong this time! I did not give him rights in our House; I’m not that stupid!” I cry, knowing that my efforts are wasted.
Falcon circles around behind me, the crack of her whip accenting the air as she gets into position. Condor sighs, his tone almost regretful when he speaks. “How many lashes will it take to send a message? You are not in charge here, Mynah, whatever you may think. I own you, just like I own everyone in this House. Everything you have is because I allow it.”
“Please,” I murmur as Condor kneels down in front of me. “Please don’t do this.”
Condor’s expression turns sorrowful. His hands wrap around my shoulders, but the touch is surprisingly gentle. If I did not know any better, I’d think he hates the idea of hurting me. His fingers trace small circles around my shoulder joints, as if the motion could stop the agony Falcon is about to inflict.
Leaning close, Condor pushes back the hair from my ear on my right side. “I am truly sorry for this, but you leave me no choice,” he tells me, his voice strained. Then, jerking away from me as though stung, he nods over my head to Falcon.
The first crack of the whip takes my breath as it rips into my shirt and skin. The second splits a scar on my shoulder blade that has never quite healed correctly. “How many lashes until you beg? Until you promise to follow the rules? Huh?” Falcon screeches as she crushes that whip into my back faster and faster. I lose track of how many times she strikes, how many times I almost give her what she wants to hear: a scream, a plead, a whimper of pain.
My consciousness burrows deep into myself, shying away from the relentless torture of my body. I will not break. I will not give in. I will not debase myself for the likes of you. The words repeat in my brain until the beating mercifully stops. The hand holding my hair wrenches free, and I fall face down onto the ground.
“Get up, Mynah.” Falcon grabs my shoulders, purposeful
ly digging her fingers into my wounds, grinding her sweaty palms into the open flesh. The salt from her sweat scalds my skin.
“You have a job to do.” Condor jerks the door ajar wide enough for me to be thrown out like a trash bag. All tenderness and sorrow has disappeared from him now.
“What do you want of me?” My jaw barely moves for the swelling around the joint, my words slurred with my pain.
“Go to your lover’s pack and tell him that we are formally claiming Panther. When he comes to collect the boy, he had better be ready for war.” Condor’s fingers twitch at his side, and for a moment, I fear he plans to continue Falcon’s attack. Instead, he grabs the handle of the door and swings it shut. In all my years here, I have never seen the door actually closed. Yet with the hardwood blocking me from the sight of the onlookers in the House, I am free to lay on the ground and regroup.
Antero, I whimper through my mental link. Stay in my room until I return. Sleep as long as your body can handle it. Keep your mouth closed at all costs. I feel the shiver of a response, an acknowledgement that he will obey.
Tears blur my eyes as I try to calm my nerves. My limbs quiver from the shock of everything I have endured. My hair even feels sore from Falcon’s tight grip. I feel my body hyperventilating, as the pain of my injuries slowly registers in my mind. When I am finally able to stand without swaying in agony, I wander down the road on my journey to find Wolf.
Chapter 6
My feet are lazily slogging through the mud as I wander into the forest. The sunlight plays tricks on my unfocused mind. Images of people dancing through the flowers and leaves, laughing as they frolic, haunt me like ghosts that live inside the greens. I twirl along with them until a root catches me unawares. I land with my back in the mud, its cooling liquid a balm to my injuries. Feet crunch on the fallen branches nearby, but I do not care anymore. In this one moment, I am free. I am not a part of any House; I am a child of sunlight and wind.
“Lupe! What have they done to you?” Wolf cries, scooping me into his arms.
My head leans back over his biceps, and I watch the world fly by, my feet dangling limply as Wolf runs through the forest. He proves his strength as he hurtles between trees, carrying my added weight as though I am nothing more than a bag of leaves. I can feel my body jerking sporadically, the shock of my injuries finally seeping into my bones. Wolf bays as he approaches a giant cavern in the woods, a place that I do not recognize nor could I find ever again on my own.
An elderly man meets Wolf at the cave’s entrance, a reddish-brown mask obscuring his features. My mind hallucinates wildly as I stare at the stranger. Instead of seeing the man, a hairy beast with eyes that stream blood approaches me. When his mouth opens, I see a fiery creature in his throat, croaking with laughter as it prepares to attack me.
I cling tighter to Wolf’s embrace, a whine escaping my lips. “Please, don’t let him hurt me! Wolf!” Clawing a path around Wolf’s neck, I attempt to put him between me and the hallucination. The stranger’s mask appears to glow as if it is fashioned from red hot coals. His fingers reach for me, appearing as grimy, razor-sharp claws, and I scream with my terror.
“Get her inside, Wolf,” the stranger commands, his voice sounding like thunder. “Who would do this to her?”
“Condor, I’d wager,” Wolf answers with a snarl over his shoulder as he enters the darkness of the cavern. It is lit by the sunlight spewing through the mouth of the cave. I feel him shifting back and forth, searching for a place to lay me down. “Fox?” he questions where to place me when no empty bed can be found.
“Carefully set her on the ground, face down,” Fox instructs, hovering over my shoulder. In the dimness of the cave, only his dark eyes gleam. For me, it is a vast improvement from the living nightmare I had first imagined him to be.
“Will you help her, Fox?” Wolf questions, his fingers tighten around me protectively. The gesture is agonizing for me, and I writhe against his touch.
“Of course! Do you even have to ask?” Fox shouts, his voice echoing off the closest rock walls.
“She is not officially a part of the pack, so I had to make sure your motives are—”
“You know me better than that, Wolf. I help the injured, no matter what house they are from.” With careful, skilled fingers, Fox untangles my skin from my tattered rag of a shirt. I whimper at the unusual, agonizing sensations. He swears violently at the sight of my shredded back. “My gods! It’s not the first time, either! There are old scars here, Wolf.”
Wolf’s knuckles crack as he paces behind me. “I have tried for years to get her to join us here. She never spoke of whippings; she never even appeared injured when we’ve met in the past.”
“Then she is a good actress, Wolf. I’d guess she’s always had an open wound somewhere on her body ever since she joined that stinking place.”
“I’m going to kill them!” Wolf seethes with fury, his body quivering with the emotion, so much so that I can feel the disturbance of air breezing over my back. It cools the wounds like ice knives spreading the gashes open wider, freezing and burning at the same time.
“Wolf,” I wheeze, my breaths laboring as I lay on my broken ribs. I speak just to get him to stop moving, to cease the torture he’s unknowingly performing on me. “War coming. Condor waits.”
“Rest now, Lupe,” Wolf whispers low in my ear, his lips brushing my temple. “You will stay here until you are well.” I reach up to clasp his hand, falling asleep clinging to his arm.
***
Sometime in the night, a flash of light streaks across the mouth of the cavern. It is bright enough to rouse me from my fevered dreams. A booming crack of thunder roars through the cave like a hungry beast intent on frightening its next meal to death. I attempt to turn onto my back, but something holds me in place. A rustic, wooden bed frame was hauled into my makeshift infirmary during my unconsciousness. Now, two belts are strapped around my wrists, two more around my ankles.
“I’m not a prisoner!” I bellow, my words slurring with my grogginess. A sweet taste burns in my mouth, no doubt from some herbal drug meant to ease the pain. “Let me outta here!” I thrash hard against the straps, bucking my body in an effort to loosen the binds.
“You’ll pop all of your stitches doing that,” Fox chides as he lays a hand on my arm. He does not force me to lie still, but I can feel the tension in his hand, as if he is preparing to restrain me. “I’ll end up having to reclose those wounds. Judging by the amount of swearing you did the first time, you found the experience excruciating. Do you really want to go through it again?”
“Where’s Wolf? Surely he does not approve of this!” I grit my teeth so I don’t try to bite my way through the belts. Combined with the sweat forming around the binds, the leather feels unnervingly like long tongues tasting my skin. The thought immediately fashions a hallucination of a pack of feral dogs surrounding my bed. My feet twitch as I try to curl into a ball, making the tongue-like belts cinch tighter. Any second it will be their teeth. My gods, I can almost hear them snarling and growling as they prepare to bite!
“Mynah?” Fox’s voice sounds far away. A cold hand brushes my forehead, opening my eyelids wider. It feels like the hand of Death, checking my quality before he buys my soul.
“Wolf! Get me out of here!” I wail, my teeth chattering in my terror.
“It was his idea to tie you to the bed, Mynah, for your own protection. You need to lie still. Your back is held together by stitches, and you’re running a terrible fever. I’ve drugged you at least three times during the night. Wolf’s been carrying cold water from the stream for our rags. We’ve got to cool you down.”
A wetness around my shoulder blades makes me think I’ve already done some damage. I can feel my blood pooling in the hollow of my back.
Fox notices the dark stain immediately, cursing at me as he lifts my shirt once more. “I’ve got to close a few of these marks again, Mynah. I’m afraid the first attempt depleted my anesthetics completely. You’ll have
to bear the next ones wide awake.”
I’ve earned this, I punish myself as I remember cauterizing Antero’s wounds. “Why didn’t you just burn them shut?” I wonder while Fox threads his needles. I can hear them clinking against their case as he prepares for the task at hand.
“I wanted to. Wolf did not want you scarred that badly.” Fox’s fingers skillfully pinch the long gash between my shoulders. The searing prick of the needle as it bites into my flesh is enough to make stars burst in my eyes.
My fevered dreams take over once more. “They’re attacking! The dogs! Oh, get them off! They are biting me! Please! Someone help!” I waver back and forth between lucidity and hallucination. At times I remember that Fox is trying to stitch up Falcon’s whip wound, and at other times, I see the ravaging dogs in perfect clarity, from their shining yellow eyes to their bloody teeth and fur.
Then comes the tugging of my skin; the strange sensation of thread slicing through each layer really turns my stomach. I’m being chewed alive! Oh, when will this end? I’d rather be dead than feel my body getting torn apart!
It is a blessing when Fox finishes the last of his reparations, and the hallucinated dogs disappear from my frenzied mind. The tears that I weep are those of relief that somehow, I managed to survive.
“Why did you never tell me?” Wolf whispers from the shadows.
“How long have you been there?” I croak through trembling, bloody lips. By the crazed look in his eyes and the quivering of his outstretched hands, I suspect Wolf has been here the entire time.
“I could have taken care of Condor ages ago! I would have wiped them out entirely.” Wolf paces closer to me, his fingers gripping my left hand. “Do you love him? Is that why you never said—”
“This was all Falcon’s doing. Condor did not hurt—”
“Like hell he didn’t! Mynah….” Wolf’s hold on my hand is so tight that the claws above his fingers gouge into the skin above my knuckles.
“You’re hurting me!” I wail, and Wolf drops his hold on me immediately.
House of Vultures Page 8
