by Ayer, T. G.
"What are you doing sniffing around my place?" His words were raspy, rough, confirming my assumption. But he could growl. And growl he did. Revealing his canines and the glistening tissue still stuck there, remnants of his recent meal.
I was not forthcoming with an answer and received a solid punch to the midsection for my reluctance to chat. I coughed and gasped for air to refill my lungs.
Brand shoved me in frustration and I swung in a slow, wide arc away from him, and then back toward him, completing the circle. When I reached him again he punched, this time, connecting with my jaw, hard. My head spun, and I tried to clear it even though it was incredibly difficult with my head caught tight between both upraised arms.
My heart was thudding again, so fast my Panther clawed to get out. Bound as I was it was impossible to change, so I tamped the need down, with another more vicious need. I kicked out at him. Hard.
He hadn't expected it. The force of the kick to his face was deflected by the slippery blood still coating his mouth and chin. In spite of the deflection he reeled slightly. He pawed the spot I'd made contact with, wiping away a streak of blood and gore with it.
"You are trying my patience." He came closer, growling the words into my ear, sniffing at me. He seemed about to say something else, as he looked at my face. If this was really Sully, he would’ve recognized me, no doubt about that. He took a step back and looked at me. Perhaps it had been the stench of the Human victim's blood lingering around this end of the building that masked my own feline scent. But now he knew.
"Well, look what we found, boys. A little kitty cat come to play with us." Brand stared me down, this time after grabbing a solid hold onto my jacket collar. He smiled, and my heart plummeted. He was playing some kind of game with me.
His clawed fingers scraped lines in my scalp, splitting skin and drawing blood. He ripped my head back, the angle making it hard to swallow. I was still silent and he seemed not to like it.
"Speak, kitty..." He smiled but it was more a grimace. "Or I will be forced to play a little game you may not enjoy so much." He ran those gruesome claws against my cheek and their sharp edges dug slowly into the skin below my ear. More cuts, more blood.
The moment of silence which followed was filled only with the thought I was probably the most foolish female who ever walked this sorry Earth. Now, I hoped Logan had gotten his shit together and was out there right now, waiting for the right moment to spring me. All I could do was buy time, and silence would get me nowhere.
"I heard about you...you're Brand aren't you?" I looked him straight in the eye and prepared myself to lie my face off. Better than having it ripped off. I decided to play the game. Pretend I didn't recognize him. Pretend I really was into the whole partial transformation, eating Human thing. Let Brand/Sully think I had no idea what I'd gotten myself into.
"I know who I am, kitty."
I heard snickering behind me. The boys were done with their meal and had come to watch the show.
Brand threw them a cold stare over my shoulder and they fell silent.
"I...I wanted to find out if it's true...that you can transform partway through." I tried to inject a dose of admiration into my voice.
I thought of batting my eyelids but it seemed a bit over the top, and besides, he'd pounded one of my eyes, and it was now swollen and un-battable. Not to mention the fact that I'd come on strong at the Club. He'd know I was faking it. "Nobody believed it when we heard it, but I did."
"So you followed me here?" Brand was slightly entranced by the idea of meeting a groupie, though still slightly suspicious.
I wanted him a little closer, wanted so badly to deliver a sound kick to his groin. Make sure there'd never be any little Brand's running around feeding on innocent people. But I doused the urge. Those claws of his reminded me that nothing stopped him from using my bones to sharpen his claws.
"Yes...I want you to teach me..." I let longing drip from my voice, and laced it with admiration again.
Whatever part of him remained a sentient male would naturally soak it up. I was disgusted with how authentic I sounded, and the pretense weighed heavily on me. I needed to have him believe I wanted to join their disgusting little band. It meant I had a chance to survive at least for the next few minutes. I refused to even think about the quandary I would be in if my backup did not arrive soon. Anytime soon would be good. Now would be better.
I swallowed the bile rising within me, and gazed into those bloodshot eyes.
"What will you give me for that lesson, kitty?" Brand made a slow circuit around me. His eyes roamed, his heartbeat increased, and the pheromones built up on his skin.
I delayed my answer. I was hung here like a side of meat, surrounded by rogue Skin-Walkers. I had no misconception of what I meant to them. And I wasn't about to encourage him to have a bite.
He closed the distance between our faces. So close I could smell the rot of his breath and the stink of his body. Hygiene was not high on his list of priorities. He grabbed a hold of my hair again - seemed he had a thing for my hair- tilting my head back, baring my neck and the bloody spot beneath my ear still leaking wet droplets.
He ran his tongue across the spot, and I cringed, fearing the germs that lay sleeping within his filthy mouth. Fearing too the blood rage that could so easily overcome him. I didn't fancy being his second course.
I struggled and it made him angry. So enraged he pulled hard on my head, so hard I began to see the edges of darkness closing in on me. So hard his hand came away with silky black strands.
He held my hair in his hands, well won spoils, and laughed. A hideous bastardized combination of high pitch leopard shriek and deep male laughter.
I was shaking. Brand mistook my trembling for utter fear. He was wrong. If I was capable of a blood rage, the time to release it would be now.
No fear, I reminded myself. Fear had a scent. And the last thing I needed now was for Brand to smell my fear. For a Walker he was far from dumb, he was Hiro's boss after all. The Boss who managed the drug-peddling business while hiding his true identity. He would know the fear meant I was hiding something. He'd bought my story about wanting to join his group. I hoped it would stay that way.
I knew my time was running out when he came to me again, extending his clawed finger to my neck and caressed the pounding crest of my jugular. Something in his demeanor had changed. As if he'd quit playing games with me. His eyes glowed, eager to spill the life in my veins.
My heart clenched and I knew my number was up.
***
Logan arrived at the entrance to the warehouse to be met with silence. He'd used his motorcycle which was always a means of quick getaway. At first he wondered if Kailin had actually waited for him as she'd promise despite his gut saying that wasn't going to happen.
Then he heard it. A strange shrieking laughter coming from within the darkened warehouse. Logan entered the building, treading softly, totally aware that he was walking into a place where the occupants could, and probably would, smell him before he saw them.
He made his way through the high ceilinged warehouse, following the sound of voices and the squeak of swinging chains, avoiding hulking metal masses.
He rounded a pile of junk-metal and stopped in his tracks. His blood ran cold as he stared at Kailin, strung up on a chain hanging from the iron rafters far above. A Walker, most likely Brand, held Kailin by the hair, laughing.
Kailin's body shook so hard she made the chains squeak as they moved back and forth. Logan's eyes narrowed as he watched her. Anyone would’ve easily mistaken her shaking for fear but Logan knew her better. She shook with fury.
Then Brand asked, "So tell me, Kailin Odel. How stupid did you think I was?" Logan could feel the anger rolling off Brand in waves. Logan tensed, waiting for the right moment to make his move.
"I don't know what you mean," Kailin responded, and this time Logan heard real fear now streaking through her voice.
"You come waltzing in here, throwing off your Alpha f
emale stink, lying to me. Pretending you don't know who I am. And you expect me to play nice?" Logan knew it wouldn't be long before Brand made his move. His ruthless reputation preceded him. Kailin's life was in danger.
Her eyes narrowed. "Get away from me you murdering bastard. I don't really give a damn who you think you are."
Brand lowered his voice and Logan strained to hear his words. "You walk into my club and ask a bunch of questions as if you had every right to. Then you waltz right in here and pretend to be an adoring fan as if I'm stupid. You know what happens to little girls like you? They always get what's coming to them." Brand sneered as he pressed his claw into Kailin's neck and slit the skin, spilling a stream of hot red blood onto his chest.
Logan didn't wait a second longer.
He exploded into the space behind Brand, sending the Walker's thugs flying in many directions. Logan grunted, satisfied as he heard the muffled grunts as bodies hit ground, and metal.
Then Logan stilled, stood perfectly motionless behind Brand, who didn't seem to care that he'd encroached on his den. Logan regulated his breathing, calmed his heart rate and reached deep within himself for the power. His eyes remained open as he channeled the power to his hands. He knew sometimes his eyes held a strange glow within them. Knew too, that Kailin would see the glow. Would be watching as he used his fire power.
Brand had merely been buying time, waiting. He made a move to run and Logan let his fire loose. It streaked through the air, a controlled blast of heat and flame. Brand stiffened and fell to his knees so heavily Logan was sure he heard the crunch of the partially transformed Walker's knee-caps as they connected with the concrete floor. The veins at Logan's temples rose against his skin. And then Brand fell face first to the ground, and lay there unmoving. Logan wasn't taking any chances. He pulled down a length of chain and bound Brands hands and feet, leaving him trussed up on the floor of the warehouse, like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Logan gazed at Kailin. He knew from her expression she was in shock, that she was processing the inexplicable thing that had just happened.
He'd been so focused on get Brand incapacitated he hadn't registered that blood was still streaming from Kailin's neck. He raced to her, un-lynching the chains and setting her slowly to the ground. She gave him a tiny smile before she slipped into unconsciousness.
***
Chapter 28
I regained consciousness, to find myself being tended to by a paramedic, not too far from Brand. Once unconscious he'd returned to his normal human form as Sully. Heat coursed through my veins as I vibrated with anger. He'd led us on, entertained our questions and all the while he'd been behind the whole thing.
I shivered at the memory that I’d so recently thought of Sully as slightly charming and even attractive. Ugh. Now it was all I could do to prevent myself from kicking him in the unmentionables. I needed to know what he'd done with Lily. Hoped to Ailuros he'd left her in one piece.
But right now. I was exhausted, aching all over and feeling overwhelmed.
After the paramedic left, a group of Omega agents arrived and after a few minutes with Logan, began processing Brand/Sully. Good thing I wasn't required to interrogate the bastard. I knew I'd be tempted to kill his ass.
At last Logan approached and for the moment we were alone I didn't plan to wait any longer to ask my questions.
"So are you going to tell me what that was all about?"
For a moment he was silent and I thought he was going to try and avoid the topic altogether, but then he said, "I'm a Fire Mage. I used my power to incapacitate Brand."
"Oh." I couldn't manage anything more than the one syllable. Logan had Fire power? "I guess that explains the exploding tire episode?"
Logan chuckled. "Yes, exactly."
"So are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Just a colossal headache, but that’s usual when I have to concentrate really hard."
"What was so different this time?"
"You were just a couple of inches away from Brand. I didn't want to incinerate you by accident."
If Logan was trying to make me feel better, he'd succeeded at the exact opposite. I was officially freaked out.
***
Anjelo's absence was an almost physical loss for me. I hadn't realized how much I'd come to rely on him. Not that he was in any way the knight charging in to help me out. Rather he'd be the idiot hanging onto the horse's tail as it galloped off into the night.
Calls to Iain and Storm came up empty. I had no clue where he was. Why didn't he at least text me to keep me in the loop?
Dear Ailuros, please keep him safe.
I sent up the prayer but something told me I'd need more help than prayers.
***
Chapter 29
Despite the craziness of the last few days I wanted to make time for my patients. Especially now, since Clancy was no longer around to keep her eye on them. My work with the recovering addicts was usually slow, gaining progress week to week. But they were as committed as I was. Pitching up week after week in spite of the emotional roller-coaster ride that came with both the chemical withdrawal and their extraction from the drug community.
I understood a little. Removed from their support network they felt abandoned in spite of it having been their own choice to leave. I admired their strength very much, strength few people would have under such circumstances. Because of their commitment I felt like a heel for letting them down.
I'd finished updating my paperwork a couple of hours ago, cross referenced the notes of the substitute counselor Heide would’ve arranged, got some filing and reports in order, and spent some time checking my ammunition and stock of vials. I made a mental note to ring Tara - the new gas vials were jamming intermittently. So far, it'd only happened during my practice, but I couldn't risk it on the field.
It could wait a while though.
It was late when I walked out of the building. I'd lost track of time. For once in the last week, I had nowhere in particular to be. Now, walking to the curb to cross the street, life filtered to me. Music blared from a stereo across the street. The rev of a souped-up car engine a couple of blocks away. An alley cat screeched its discontent with her suitor.
But here on my street, it was quiet. An ominous quiet. A black pickup sat across the road, and I hesitated. I knew many of the people in this area, knew faces and cars well enough to know this vehicle didn't belong. I paused at the edge of the curb. Hesitated.
My ears peaked somewhere nearby a scratchy, harsh crackling shattered the undercurrent of silence. Sounds only Walkers could pick up. Now I heard the blurred squeaks of a walkie-talkie. Movement within the cab of the pickup heightened my suspicion.
Around the block, I heard the revving of a motorcycle engine, not sure of the cc but something fast at any rate. In spite of the darkness, the motorbike and its rider were clearly visible as they turned onto the road and sped toward me. At the opposite corner, a couple of kids turned to stare at the shiny, roaring machine.
I found his audacity unbelievable. Did he think I'd would stand there, a couple hundred pounds of metal bearing down on me, and wait for the impact? I did the only thing I could think of. Watching him carefully as he got closer, I waited for the last second, and then took a quick step sideways and shot my arm out in front of him, stiff as a pillar pulling deep on my Panther strength.
The streetlights threw two bright orbs onto the slick surface of his black helmet, lighting his eyes behind the visor for precious seconds.
The shocked surprise on his face was comical. He hit my hand full speed. The motorcycle continued on without him, skidding and ending its travels in a screeching spin.
The rider was much worse for wear. The force of the impact with my iron-hand sent him plummeting to the ground, drawn by the impetus of the bike. He landed flat on his back just feet away. He lay there, gasping and spluttering, holding his chest, while his helmet rolled across the ground coming to a halt over a drain. The impact with my arm knocked the stuffing out of h
im. All I needed was to shake it a little to loosen it up again.
The low hum of the motorbike wheel spun slower and slower.
Pickup-Guy jumped from the vehicle and sprinted across the street, not bothering to close his door. During the mayhem he'd gunned the engine, ready to take off once they'd finished me. He should know better than to leave a car idling in this neighborhood. It wasn't likely the vehicle would still be there when I finished playing with my two new friends.
His anger reeked, fueled by the stink of his sweat and fear. He spared a brief, disbelieving glance at the biker dude who lay sprawled on the ground, eyes out of focus, as if the very stars spun around his head.
"Fine. You want to play, so let's play." I flicked hair out of my face, and curled my finger at him in a cheeky 'Come on' gesture. It paid off a tad, as a frown of concern slipped across his face at my confidence.
What he didn't know was I wasn't all that prepared to be so cocky. The only weapon on me was a tiny curved blade in my boot. Although it was deadly sharp and had a vicious point, I needed to be close to use it. Dangerously close.
He circled me, like a bull, giving me a wide berth, eyes on me. Those eyes flickered every few seconds in his partner’s direction. Was he wondering how long I would take to turn him into a similar pretzel?
I bent forward, flicking my fingers at him, beckoning him with both hands. And smiled.
He lunged.
I spun around, landed a solid punch to his ribs, and heard the soft crunch as two of his ribs caved in under the force of the blow.
Adrenalin masked his pain and he appeared only winded. For now.
He came barreling at me again. I stepped swiftly aside and kicked his feet from under him. I almost felt sorry for him, until he grabbed my leg as I stepped away. Losing my balance, I fell. At the last second, I spun around and landed on both forearms, my eyes still fixed firmly on my opponent.
I was tiring of playing with him. No real challenge with these two lunk-heads.
