Skin Deep

by Sarah Makela

  Grabbing the key, she thanked him and then headed out to find her room, which was on the first floor. She moved her car, parking near a set of nicely trimmed bushes. Sounds of splashing and young kids yipping in excitement came from the pool in the inner courtyard. Normally, she would’ve been interested in going to the pool, but she was too exhausted, tense, and paranoid.

  Angelique opened the door to her room. She put the groceries on the small, round table next to the bed. The dated furnishings reminded her of reruns from the seventies, but at least it was tidy. She bolted the door behind her before heading to the phone.

  Before she could call Connor back, a soft knock on the door stopped her. Who could that be? Surely, it wasn’t the hotel staff. Her gaze shifted to the door, and to her horror, black veins of rotting wood spread out across the dull, white surface.

  Kira woke up, tense and alert, ready to leap from Angelique’s skin and attack. Angelique held her back. No telling what waited for them on the other side.

  She turned her attention back to the phone, frantically punching in Connor’s number. She’d managed the first five digits when the door exploded inward as if a hurricane had blown it in. Shielding her face, she struggled to maintain her footing. The wind died down, but she didn’t have a chance to finish dialing.

  The strange man from the store ripped the phone cord out of the wall. He grinned at her. “No use calling for help now.” He slammed his fist into her stomach, and her breath surged from her lungs in a gasp. From her hunched-over position, she watched the man pop his knuckles and stretch his muscled arms.

  “Cooperate and this will be over quickly. Don’t…and well, I can’t promise you’ll survive the night.” His voice had an accent. While she wasn’t shabby with placing accents, his sounded purely Celtic, not Irish, and not Scottish. Very old world. “Shall we begin? I won’t bother telling you my real name. You can call me Mahon.”

  Her skin crawled with fear in remembrance of her family’s warning. They’d told her of hunters, but there hadn’t been one in so long. Her gift was a blessing and a curse wrapped in one.

  She put her fists up in a fighting stance and kicked him above the knee. The man danced back a few steps. His face registered the pain, but she doubted she’d hurt him much. Kira perched on her shoulder, growling and eager to defend them, but Angelique kept her focus on the man in front of her. Until she knew what this man wanted, she wouldn’t put Kira at risk.

  Anger tightened Mahon’s eyes and drew his lips away from white teeth. Snarling, he backhanded her.

  She fell into the bed, rolling onto her hands and knees. Pain lanced her side, and she placed one hand against it carefully as she struggled to her feet.

  Mahon mumbled a word she couldn’t quite understand. A ring of light appeared over his hands. He jabbed his fingers forward, throwing the ring at her. Heat wafted off it in waves.

  She lunged to the side, almost managing to move out of the way, but it hit her arm. The impact of it pushed her off balance, knocking her to the floor. Before she could get her bearings back, he grabbed her wrists, dragging her up and onto the middle of the bed. His power bit into her skin with untamed energy.

  Kira reached out, claws extended, but the big cat suddenly pulled back, as if driven off by an unseen force.

  He stretched her hands near the wooden headboard and closed his eyes, mumbling a few more words. Creaks and groans jerked her attention up, and she saw the wood stretching and winding around her wrists. Struggling did little to help.

  Mahon leaned back far enough to look her over. His hand brushed the exposed skin of her midriff where her shirt had ridden up. “Lovely skin you have there. Shame you decided not to make this easier on both of us.”

  She jerked underneath him, not wanting him to touch her. “Screw you. Why are you doing this to me?”

  He held his palm out facing the open doorway. Vines and branches crept toward the hole, sliding up and blocking it until no one could get in or out without a sturdy ax. From his jacket, he retrieved a set of knives and other wicked looking tools, carefully laying them out beside her. “You have a mouth on you. Women of my day wouldn’t talk to a man like that. Times have certainly changed.” He picked up a sharp knife, looking at its blade as he continued, “These kinds of tattoos don’t leave their owner. They must be given. Sure, I could take it, but it would be useless.”

  Kira moved back to Angelique’s lower back, keeping herself out of sight. It wasn’t often her familiar did that. Somehow, Angelique got the impression Kira knew what this guy was.

  Mahon lowered the jagged-edged knife toward her, and her eyes widened. He slid it under the fabric of her shirt, slicing it open. “You will give me your power, even if it is the last thing you do. I have done things to make people beg and promise anything just to end the momentary pain.” Sighing, he brushed aside the ripped shirt. He set aside the knife in the neat row he’d made and retrieved a small flask.

  His fingers delicately brushed the area around her bruise. “Nasty looking injury.” He brought one of the bottles closer so she could see. Inside were ants almost as big as her thumbs. He retrieved one of them, which serenely sat on his palm. He gave her a good view, and then he lowered the ant near the wound.

  She struggled, moving her waist despite the agony to her side. Her bound hands prevented her from getting far.

  Mahon pressed his hand onto her lower stomach, restricting her movement. She kicked her legs, but he started whispering foreign words. Something twisted over her ankles and held them still. A bright flash of pain shot through her torso as the ant stung her side, setting off warning bells in her head. The intense anguish went on for what felt like hours. Her vision darkened into a tunnel of light.

  The man picked up one of the knives. With her eyes squeezed shut, she stayed awake and aware. She waited for the sting of him slicing into her, but it never came. A snapping sound piqued her curiosity, and she slowly opened her eyes. The druid held up the chopped corpse of the ant. Its head cleanly removed from the neck.

  “Some tribes use ants to make nice stitches by placing the pinchers against the flesh and having the ant bite.” He shrugged. “Not that you need any.” He looked back at the body of the ant and chuckled. “Bullet ants aren’t normally used in that capacity, but they pack a nice punch, don’t you agree? Oh, and your screaming won’t help you. The silence spell I put around this room won’t let out a peep.”

  Had she screamed? Her mouth was open, but the pain had blocked out everything else. She shut her mouth, trying to regain some composure.

  “There is a way to stop the agony. Just give me your gift. The pain will go away.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

  Kira shivered on her lower back, and Angelique sent comfort to her. She’d never give up her familiar. As far as she knew, if they parted, they would both die. “Never.”

  “You’ll wish you had relented. I promise.” He patted his hand against her cheek before sliding out another ant. “When these are gone, I’ll resort to another method. By then, you’ll be begging me for death, which I’ll grant. After I receive your power.”

  One ant bite followed another during the twenty-something minutes of agony. He only had three bullet ants left, but he set the small bottle on the end table and then cracked his knuckles.

  Breaths ripped from her lungs as she gasped for air. Her throat hurt, and she found herself making sounds no human should make.

  “So, I’ll renew my offer. Just—” A sudden blast of Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries cut off Mahon’s words, making them both tense. He stood and walked toward the bathroom to answer his cell.

  Angelique could see now that vines from the door had encircled her ankles and feet. Kira moved, brushing her warm fur against Angelique as sympathetic feelings washed over her. Kira’s resolve to do something picked up with the distance from Mahon. She no longer reminded Angelique of a scared kitten.

  Not having Kira with her would drain them both, but if Kira was out, she mig
ht be able to get help. It’d be safer for both. Mahon wanted her familiar. Surely, he wouldn’t kill her before he got what he wanted.

  Harsh words came from the direction of the bathroom. She glanced over to see him staring at the mirror. While his attention was taken by the call, she lowered her grip on Kira, inviting her out.

  Kira loped from Angelique’s back around to her stomach, and Angelique braced herself for what was to come. The big cat slammed upward hitting her like a punch to the gut. Angelique bit her lip hard, only making a low moan while her body screamed. Mahon’s voice rose in rushed agitation. He paced a circuit from the vanity to the bathroom and back again.

  Angelique pushed out, helping the cat go. Her skin bulged into the shape of the melanistic leopard. Pain blinded her with white-hot agony, worse than all the ant bites combined. Her consciousness dimmed, but she fought to stay awake.

  The bed creaked with the sudden added weight as Kira became a reality. The big cat rose upward and hopped to the floor next to the bed, crouching out of sight of the mirror. The feeling of being alone drenched Angelique with sadness before she could get her emotions under control.

  The druid’s gaze drifted her way, but he turned away again after satisfying his curiosity and continued his pacing. Mahon’s anxiousness to get off the phone stirred up his restless power. “I know… Yes, I know.” He sighed. “This is not the first time I’ve dealt with your kin. I appreciate the assistance of your wolf. Enjoy your half of the deal, do what you promised, and we will both live long and happy lives.” He leaned over the sink.

  The conversation sounded like it’d soon be over. Kira nudged Angelique’s cheek softly, and Angelique moved her head closer to her familiar. The big cat needed to leave while she still could. Angelique ordered Kira to find Connor and lead him here, putting enough energy behind it so the black panther wouldn’t fight the command.

  Her vision darkened. The sounds of glass breaking and Mahon’s cursing were the last things she heard.

  Help would come. Hopefully.

  Chapter Eight

  A throbbing ache radiated through Angelique’s jaw as she returned to consciousness. Her eyelids felt leaden and impossible to lift. A meaty palm smacked her cheek, leaving a sharp sting in its wake.

  “Come on, you imbecile. Snap out of it.” His weight pressed her into the bed.

  She groaned and moved a little, unable to muster up much strength. Every muscle in her body protested. She tried opening her eyes but couldn’t. Fear built within her chest. Who knew how long she’d been out? Who knew what he’d done to her, since she couldn’t feel much except intense pain. The only thing she remembered was Kira breaking out from the window.

  “Ah, finally awake again, are you? You think you’re so clever sending away your cat?” His voice quivered with fury like none she’d heard before. “I tried to be nice. I tried not to go overboard with you.” He sighed, and she felt him swipe a cool sticky substance around her eyes. “At least look at me when I’m talking to you.”

  She felt power soak into her skin and the heaviness in her eyelids eased. Cracking open her eyes, she saw Mahon staring down at her with an unusual mixture of pity and anger. Her confusion must’ve shown in her gaze because he shook his head. “I don’t—” Her voice cracked, and she coughed, creating even more pain in her throat.

  He scowled and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking frustrated. Sucking in a deep breath, he settled. “Okay,” he said as if talking to a child, “Listen. I will ask a final time for you to part with your gift. You will say yes.” His neat row of tools and knives were disheveled from him straddling her, but he picked up a short, pudgy-bladed knife.

  “Wha—” she rasped, sounding like a demented frog.

  “It’s a skinning knife. What’ll happen is,” he said, tilting it before her eyes, giving her a closer look at the wickedly sharp blade, “You say ‘yes, I will freely give you my power,’ I take it, and I’ll put this knife away.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him, which hurt like hell. How did he expect her to say all those words when she could barely complete one or two?

  “If you say no, I’ll finish disrobing you, skin the flesh from your body, and wait for your cat to return, which it will have to do eventually.” He rested his chin on one fist and watched her, waiting for her response. With his other hand, he toyed with the knife, tossing it up by the blade and catching it with the handle.

  What was she supposed to do? As far as she knew, giving up her familiar would mean death for her and, most likely, Kira. Even if it were possible for her to survive it, she’d be condemning Kira to a life of being this druid’s slave. “Wa-water,” she said at last, knowing she needed to give her answer.

  Mahon’s lips pursed with curiosity. “Water?” He shrugged a shoulder and then hopped off the bed. He used the knife’s blade to peek into her grocery bag. When he found the bottle of water she’d gotten at the checkout, he brought it over, twisting the tip as he walked to her.

  “You’ll give me an answer?” He sat on the side of the bed as he had before.

  She tipped her head forward. Even that slight movement created a whirlwind of hurt in her head and neck. She’d give him an answer. Although she knew she’d suffer severely for it. This was her only option.

  Cradling her neck, he held her head up a little, and he pressed the bottle to her lips. “Good girl. Sip slowly. Wouldn’t want you to choke.”

  Angelique took a few swallows of water. They burned her raw throat, but she felt a little better.

  After a couple more drinks, he set the bottle aside. “Now then, I gave you the water. Give me what I want.” He held her chin in his hand and placed the knife’s edge against the skin of her neck.

  “Never.” Her voice croaked, but she could answer. “You’ll never have my gift.”

  His fingers tightened on her chin, and he roared in rage. “Damn you, stubborn girl. I tried to give you every chance. You have no idea how cruel I could’ve been.” He threw down the knife on the bed and grabbed another. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, most which she couldn’t begin to comprehend, he grabbed the remaining fabric of her jacket, slicing and ripping away the material. He continued with each piece of clothing she’d been wearing.

  Once she was nude, he pulled away the ants, tearing her skin in the process. She screamed involuntarily with each tug. He ran his fingers along her sides as if looking for a seam to snag and cut away. The skinning knife in hand, he placed it against her skin just under her armpit and slowly, precisely started slicing.

  She twisted away, trying to keep him from continuing. The piercing anguish caused by the blade made it impossible not to struggle. He held her down, not bothered by her movement. He’d done this before.

  A loud crash turned their attention toward the door. Another bang. Someone yanked away the vines and branches in chunks. A howl of rage pierced the room and, with a final smash, Connor stood in the woodsy debris.

  She dropped her head against the pillow. He’d come for her.

  * * *

  Connor’s heart raced. His hands and arms bore scratches from the jagged thorns. The wounds had already begun healing. The makeshift door smelled of a kind of magic he hadn’t encountered in a long time. Druidic magic.

  The scent of blood hit his senses, and he narrowed his gaze on its source—the bed. He first saw Angelique’s naked, bound form, and then he saw the man sitting beside her on the narrow bed. Crimson dripped from a slice in her side.

  A glint of steel flashed in the man’s hand. A skinning knife.

  Something snapped within Connor. His beast leapt to the surface, urged on by his fear for Angel. Connor’s spine contorted, and he fell to his knees as a rush of agony tore through him. His wolf stretched, filling his body like a glove. Muscles ripped and bones broke, only to reform.

  In his wolf form, he came back to himself and remembered why he was here. His eyesight as a werewolf was better suited for the fight to come. The increased healing rate his
abilities gave him had already knitted up the thorny scratches and taken away the last bit of pain from shapeshifting. Gnashing his teeth, he dove at the druid who had hurt his Angel. He knocked into the man, and they toppled over the bed to the floor.

  The man muttered a few words and tossed out his hand, throwing Connor back. “What are you doing here, wolf? I came to an agreement with your kind to be left alone with this girl. Did your leader not fill you in? Shame.” He stood, drawing himself up to his full height. His hands went to his belt, which contained a pelt of fur smelling distinctly like… With a twist of the druid’s wrist, a blast of magic pushed him back a few steps. In a smooth, painless flicker, the druid changed from man into a bear.

  “Connor,” Angelique rasped, her haggard voice sounding foreign to his ears, “be careful.”

  He bounced his head in a nod, then threw himself at the bear. While the druid had his fancy bag of tricks, Connor had his fighting ability. He’d used it to carefully earn and maintain his position in the Pack. He could handle his own in combat.

  The druid’s large, powerful paw swiped at him, but it lacked both agility and the natural grace bears normally possessed. The bear’s claws were a lot longer than Connor’s, but they barely touched the outer layer of his fur.

  Taking a quick step back, Connor huffed and shook his head. He was not impressed.

  The druid stalked toward him. He easily towered over Connor, bumping his head against the ceiling. He let out a deafening roar. The moment the bear dropped to all four legs, Connor lunged forward and bit into his muzzle. His teeth sank deep into the druid’s flesh. Blood flowed from the beast’s nose.

  He let go and skipped backward, but the bear slashed into his side, forcing a yip from him as he darted away.

  Angelique cried out in surprise and fear. He wished he could calm her, but he had to focus on the fight.