I Kissed a Dog

by Carol Van Atta

  In what seemed like slow motion, his snout elongated and his body expanded, sprouting patches of fur in the process. Fingers became razor sharp claws, and his mouth filled with jagged fangs. I wasn’t sure how, but unlike the purebreds, his clothing stayed on, sort of. They were ripped and tattered like the Incredible Hulk’s after his transmutation.

  Instead of shifting, his taller counterpart, whipped out his sidearm and a crackle of gunfire followed, pulverizing my defender’s chest. He stumbled and tottered before plummeting backward, furry arms flailing but failing to stop his fall.

  What felt like a small earthquake rocked the concrete floor, causing me to topple forward. I landed with a thud next to the bloodied mutant. The holes in his chest were more than bleeding; they were smoking. Silver — of course — the one thing that could kill both werewolves and mutants.

  “Listen,” with a gurgling, wet sound the fallen creature managed to whisper.

  I leaned forward, pressing my ear to his snout. Afraid he might not finish, I plunged, without permission, into what were surely his last thoughts. I’m in your mind. Think, don’t talk.

  I’m Dante. I’m so sorry. I was trying to help. They’re creating an army.

  I didn’t like the sound of that. For what?

  To destroy the purebreds and take over their holdings, then the humans. His chest rattled as death crept closer.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder, ripping me from Dante’s shuddering form.

  The bald men can help. The old barge …

  What barge? I asked hoping to latch onto his final thought.

  It was too late. He was already shrinking, his human body replacing the mutant one.

  I’d never been inside an animal’s mind at the moment of death. What I felt was empty darkness, like the universe without stars. The shell remained, but the soul had departed. Dante, I hoped, was in a better place.

  For the first time since my capture, I allowed a tsunami of hopelessness to wash over me. Wave after wave, bowed my body until I was grasping my thighs. A torrent of hot tears followed.

  Without comment, my remaining guard yanked me upright. This time, I marched obediently beside him down the staircase. I could hear doors above opening and women screaming. I knew the other guards were already descending on Dante’s motionless form.

  They’d seen the whole thing. One or two of them had even laughed. Their laughter was what pushed me over the edge. What little faith I’d clung to was washed away with my tears.

  It was hard to hang onto hope when your tormentors found death something to laugh about.

  Chapter 3823

  I entered the lower hall defeated and resigned to experiencing a painful and dehumanizing death at the hands of Jazmine and her followers.

  Maybe I’d been wrong to believe a werewolf could love a human.

  After seeing how the other side lived, I was beginning to doubt Zane’s intentions. He’d admitted to deceiving me, and then he’d initiated our Vegas wedding night fiasco, yet another example of his poor judgment and lack of compassion. Jazmine was better suited for him. She’d have no problem standing up to his chauvinistic ways.

  I shoved all thoughts of Zane aside. In all likelihood, I’d never see him again, and dwelling on our short-lived relationship did nothing but depress me more. I had one thing to be grateful for. Since my tearful meltdown, Mr. Tall and Rude had loosened his death grip on my arm and was whistling an old Beatles’ tune. I made every effort to stay steady as I struggled to keep up with his longer gait.

  Instead of the classroom windows I’d seen on the upper floor, this hall featured doors devoid of any windows.

  We reached the corridor’s midway point, and much to my relief, Mr. Tall and Rude ceased both his off-tune whistling and brisk stride to scrutinize a door that looked as battered and beaten as I felt.

  Deep gouges twisted down its full length, giving the appearance that something with knife-wielding claws had sought entrance. I swallowed hard, a new storm of fear brewing in my stomach.

  To make matters worse, the basement corridor didn’t have that busy school feeling I’d noticed above. It was sinister, and eerily quiet.

  The scratched door loomed in the background. My eyes were drawn back to it like a magnet to metal. I could survive with mold, mildew, and gloom, but living in dread, while I waited for some mystery monster to tear through the door, sent my faith spiraling downward.

  A lone guard manning his post at the hallway’s end was the single breathing thing in my line of vision. Seeing the casual way he lounged behind his computer monitor drew my attention from the door.

  In this hauntingly similar place, I was reminded of Joshua’s cell-like room in the mental institution. I was also reminded of my pledge to get him out.

  I didn’t break promises.

  In what seemed like slow motion, Mr. Tall and Rude fished out a key ring. “Home sweet home,” he said, sounding cheerful.

  I decided to ignore him and keep my mouth clamped shut. I prayed that my current good behavior would earn me a meal.

  The gnawing in my stomach was prompting grumbles loud enough to slice through the stillness. If I didn’t eat and sleep soon, I’d really be grumbling. Once my basic needs were satisfied, I’d get back to finding some way to keep my promise of freedom for Joshua Smart.

  “You’re quarters,” my escort announced snide as ever. The door swung open revealing a barren and dreary room.

  Four army cots with a blanket and pillow lined the far back wall. A sink and toilet were hidden behind a filth-singed room divider. With no windows, I was painfully aware that I would be lucky to have shadows as my constant companions.

  One undersized bulb flickered from the ceiling. Day and night would blur.

  “Who’ve we got now?” I recognized the hall monitor as he swaggered past and left a stack of towels and my travel bag on the end cot. “You hungry?” he added, looking my way and ignoring the sudden scowl on Mr. Tall and Rude’s face.

  Before I could get my mouth open, my original escort answered, adding one more rude reason to detest him. “She’s hungry, probably thirsty too. Her name’s Chloe Carpenter and she’s a high priority prisoner. The Mistress is unhappy with this one. She’s a sneaky one.” He shot me a look that dared me to respond. “She’ll have fun bunking with Connie and Deb.” He paused as if recalling something important. “Deb should be transferring back upstairs by Friday.”

  The new guard nodded with a look that said Deb’s imminent move was old news.

  Whoever Deb was, I intended to discover what she’d done to earn relocation rights to the upper level.

  The hall monitor turned his attention back to me. “I got P and J or ham and cheese. What’ll it be?”

  Certain I was pressing my luck, I forced what I hoped was a semi-sexy smile. “Both?”

  Hall Monitor tossed his head back and roared, “A girl after my own heart!”

  “Don’t get too cozy with her, Dillon, she’s trouble.”

  I plopped on my cot and leaned against the concrete wall, ignoring the chill, and the warning, too tired to protest. After some food and a few hours of sleep, I’d make a point of earning my nickname.

  Dillon would have an opportunity to meet Trouble face to face.

  I was just swallowing my last bite of P and J when my roommates entered. Dillon patted the blonde on her rear. She giggled, her cheeks flushing. I noted this with an annoying touch from the green-eyed monster. Jealous that she’d somehow managed to find her very own masculine light source in our dreary dungeon. Dillon was cute enough, especially when he smiled. Dimples always helped. Their happiness only made my separation from Zane that much harder to endure.

  “This is Connie.” He nodded at the object of his interest.

  “I’m Deb,” said the taller brunette.

  I was still gaping at Connie. “You!” I recognized the woman as the blue-eyed blonde from upstairs.

  She stopped her flirting. “Isn’t this convenient?” She sounded less than pl
eased.

  Not sure what else to do, I extended my hand. “I’m Chloe. You were getting ready to tell me something …”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. You must have confused me with someone else.” She shot me a warning look.

  Not wanting to alienate her before I had a chance to pick her brain, I just nodded. “You’re probably right. I’m not sure who I saw. I was pretty out of it.”

  Dillon turned to study me. “You’re awful tiny to be so much trouble, but I’ll tell you what I told these two …”

  “Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you,” the women chorused.

  “Great. Make me look like a big softy. I’m going to grab Ms. Chloe her surprise desert. You want anything?” He looked pointedly at Connie. Her cheeks glowed a deeper shade of roseglowed.. I’d stumbled onto a serious prisoner captor love connection. If my intuition was right, this was no casual flirtation. These two were smitten.

  My roommates listed their requests, and I took the opportunity to disappear behind the privacy screen with a partial change of clothing. With great care, I pulled Jazmine’s wig from my pant leg and wrapped it in my dirty t-shirt. I tugged on my favorite oversized sweatshirt, and hurried back to my bunk just as the deadbolt slid into place with loud clunk.

  I stuffed the wig-wadded-shirt into my bag and collapsed on the bunk. Deb and Connie followed my example, both resting their backs against the concrete wall.

  “So?” I glanced at Connie on the bunk to my left. Deb, on her far side, had pulled a paperback from under her pillow.

  Connie shook her head just enough for me to notice and glanced sideways at Deb. Our conversation wouldn’t be happening while Deb was awake.

  Frustrated that I’d have to wait for answers, I took another look around the room. I hadn’t noticed four, three-drawer dressers on the wall opposite the make-shift bathroom. No wonder their bunks were so bare.

  Under the circumstances, I wasn’t sure I wanted my possessions out of reach, tucked away in a dresser. I still had the symbol tracings to review, and my cell phone was resting secure below my breasts. As much as I hated a too-snug bra, this one was successfully supporting and camouflaging the added weight. I doubted I’d get a signal down here, but I’d damn sure try at the first opportunity.

  A second later, I heard thunderous footsteps approaching. They stopped right outside our door.

  I held my breath, too scared to breathe, panicking as I envisioned the vicious claw marks. But instead of a mutant monster, the friendly hall monitor entered, laden with more food. At least starvation wouldn’t be an issue.

  “Your sweets have arrived,” Dillon announced. This time he delivered our food but didn’t linger, to Connie’s obvious disappointment. He seemed preoccupied.

  Relieved to exhale, I examined my desert, which consisted of an ice cream sandwich and a little tub of yogurt. The three of us ate in silence.

  I still couldn’t figure out how Jazmine had found me. Alcuin had rented my room at the hotel. Just he and Luke were aware that I was headed to Portland, and the only one who knew my exact plans and whereabouts was Alcuin. The idea that he’d betrayed me, Zane, and our close-knit group, seemed unfeasible. What could he hope to gain? He was a vampire, not a mutant or werewolf. It just didn’t add up.

  Considering Alcuin as an enemy wasn’t what I wanted. Nothing in my life was making sense anyway.

  I stuffed my travel bag under my ultra-thin pillow and turned on my side, making sure to face my two roommates. My stepdad had taught me the importance of that timeless trick. Having my back to them wasn’t an option, not if I wanted to ensure I was alive tomorrow.

  Deb was buried in her book, and Connie was stretched out on her back, eyes closed. I had no clue what time it was. All I cared about was getting some much-overdue sleep, before I made more mistakes to regret later.

  * * *

  I trudged behind the repugnant, cloaked, bald man, David. We stopped at a square opening in the floor. Stairs, steep as a ladder, started at the opening’s top, and disappeared into darkness below.

  Somehow, I knew I was dreaming, but this was much more than any ordinary dream. It was a vision. Understanding how or why it was happening wasn’t important; I was along for the journey.

  “Follow me,” David said, before descending with an uncanny ease not customary for a human being.

  Clinging to a lone handrail, I followed him down the narrow steps carefully. Every few seconds the building would shift, just enough to mess with my equilibrium. As clumsy as I am, any rocking motion has a potentially negative side effect. Staying upright was my current priority.

  “Not a building, friend, this is a boat. A barge to be exact,” my companion explained using his telepathic ability to communicate. He’d read my mind. In his case, I didn’t mind the intrusion.

  I reached the stair’s final level. It was then I realized where we were. A barge. David had just stated we were in a barge.

  Yes! That had to be it. I had a vague memory about a barge. I’d heard something before this. At last I’d uncovered a major-connect-the-dots moment.

  The mutant guard, Dante, had mentioned a barge right before he died.

  Shivering, I pushed the image of his smoking chest from my mind, and turned my attention solely to my guide, who was traveling down a corridor lined with medical equipment and supplies.

  We reached a double door with two glass windows. David floated up until he was level with the windows.

  “How did you … never mind.” What was a little levitating in my already crazy vision?

  I peered through the opposite window into the medical facility beyond. I recognized the location. I’d seen it before, in the mind of Martin’s dog.

  Without a sound, David entered the room, his cloak ruffling as he brushed by. Not sure what else to do, I followed him through the rows of beds. A number were empty, but at least ten or more had patients strapped to them.

  “Just watch, listen,” David instructed.

  No one seemed the least bit aware of our presence. We were invisible; I hoped invincible too. Without superpowers, I didn’t want to face the mutant sentries posted through the room.

  Inspecting a patient, Jasmine leaned closer. He was twisting and pulling at his restraints, frantic to escape.

  “He’s turning! After the last few, I was getting worried.” She applauded, her excitement palpable.

  “Didn’t I tell you not to worry?” Martin rested a tentative hand on her elbow.

  Keeping her eyes on the bed, she sidestepped his touch and leaned closer to their writhing patient.

  Martin appeared hurt, humiliated even, like she’d slapped him in front of their closest associates. It was far more obvious here, in the vision, just how consumed Martin was with the more dominant Jazmine. It was pathetic watching him grovel for her affection.

  Someone nearby called for water. Unlike the thrashing man who’d won Jazmine’s approval, this patient was calm and composed despite his precarious position.

  Martin’s German Shepherd, who I’d failed to notice at first glance, growled a warning deep in his chest, reminding me of Zane.

  Even in my dream state, Zane still intruded. He’d beguiled and branded me forever with his kisses and sensuous caresses. As hard as I tried to fight the pull, the truth was in front of me like a larger than life 3D movie.

  I belonged with him. I wanted to be his mate; his wife; his companion.

  An infuriated command from Jazmine pierced through my passion-filled ponderings. “Kill him! He’s going to become one of them. There’s too many! We …”

  A guard charged forward, pistol pointed at the bunk.

  It was empty.

  The thirsty patient had vanished. The restraints remained intact. He’d disappeared from the room.

  “Find him!” Jazmine bellowed, shoving Martin aside when he tried once again to comfort her. “I want David dead! Now!”

  I spun to face my cloaked guide. David?

  Of course, he was sh
owing me his personal history with Jazmine. He’d been a regular guy, or so it seemed. But some unholy experiment, courtesy of Jazmine and her supporters, changed David from a normal looking man into the hideously-hooded, bald creature still hovering a few feet away.

  “They killed those of us who didn’t shift into mutant form. They are creating a mutant army, changing humans. Jazmine and Martin are using the earliest recorded fae magic to change the mutants. They can now shift at will, without the full moon. If they recover the coins, they will hold a key to immortality. Those of us with fae blood, turn into this.” David dropped his head. “You must stop them, Chloe. Join with your mate. United, you will unveil a powerful magic.”

  “Fae blood? Magic?” Great, more mythical mysteries, but that still didn’t answer the one burning question I needed answered. “David, how did Jazmine find me …?”

  ***

  Chapter 38

  “Wake up! Chloe!” a shrill whisper whistled through my mind, knocking me from my sleep-induced vision and almost off my bunk.

  Grabbing the thin blanket, I pushed up into a sitting position and found myself facing a wide-eyed Connie. Deb was snoring obscenely, her book flopped open over her face, several pages fluttering as she exhaled.

  I was annoyed by Connie’s interruption. I needed to learn more from David but had no idea when he’d reappear. “So, now you’ll talk to me?” I whispered, sounding harsher than intended.

  “Sorry about earlier, but I couldn’t risk it. Jazmine and her flunkies are psychotic at best.”

  I couldn’t agree more with her judgment, and I was relieved she hadn’t taken my negative reaction to heart. I could use an ally in this Godforsaken place.

  “So you know her real name too? Everyone else calls her The Mistress,” I hissed Jazmine’s pathetic, pornographic title, hating the way the words polluted my mouth.

  Mistress of Misery and Mayhem fit our captor like a well-tailored suit. I envisioned greeting her with the title next time she materialized.