Framed

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  Sighing out loud, I hugged my knees to my chest and forced my eyes to focus beyond the raindrops that were taunting me—a reminder of what my life had become. It did little to improve my situation.

  I watched a man stride slowly along the far side of the street, casually looking around him. His hood was pulled up over his head creating a black hole where his face should have been. He pulled an object from his pocket as he approached the street light directly across from my building.

  While he stood under the light, I watched intently, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. The more uneasy I got, the longer he seemed to linger. I pushed up onto my knees, pressing my forearms and hands to the window, leaning my forehead against the glass.

  “Show yourself,” I whispered, creating the tiniest pocket of fog that clung to window momentarily. Like a puppet obeying a tug from the string above, his head turned up to face me, the eerie, faceless void staring me down from the street below. I startled backward, coming to sit on my heels, peeling myself away from the glass. My heart was racing, and blood whooshed loudly through my ears.

  I glanced over to see if Cooper was awakened by my sudden movements, but he was exactly how I'd left him. I turned my attention back to the shadowy figure outside, who remained unmoving in the lamplight below.

  “Take off your hood,” I ordered silently. My words barely escaped with my exhale.

  He again obeyed, pushing the hood down off his head, leaving it lowered. “Look at me,” I thought with my eyes closed, my intention focused on the action requested.

  Every muscle in my body tensed when I opened my eyes in time to see him tilt his chin up to the light. The Rev stood equally still, though visibly less tense. I didn't have time to panic before his vision struck me down.

  I watched him stare up at the brick exterior before him, so pleased with himself. He was getting braver. I could feel the confidence rolling off of him as his presence taunted the onlooker above.

  “Have you pondered my question?” he asked enigmatically. “Be sure you don't wait too long, Ruby. They are coming. There isn't much time.”

  “Time for what? Who's coming?” I thought, unsure that he would hear me.

  “Tell Scarlet that birds of a feather should stick together,” he replied. “I won't wait long for her response. I will have my revenge with or without her.”

  He flashed an excessively toothy grin as he withdrew from the light just in time to Change. In a flash, he was no longer a man, but a wolf larger than any I'd seen before. His oily black fur kept him well camouflaged as he escaped down a nearby alley, disappearing into the night.

  My head hurt less than it had with previous visions. It was as though it was more of a telepathic conversation that allowed for him to not only screw with me further, but also deliver his vague and mysterious message. It was a kind reprieve from the usual cranial hacking he specialized in.

  I gingerly pushed myself up off the padded window seat. Looking over at the immobile lump on the bed, I realized that somehow I hadn't woken Cooper. I crawled in next to him and snuggled in close. All I wanted was to close my eyes and think of anything that would keep the illusion of normalcy that I so desperately needed. For the rest of the night, I wanted to avoid anything that reminded me of the paranormal clusterfuck my life was becoming—had become. A warm body next to me seemed to help immensely, if I ignored the fact that he was a werewolf.

  11

  My sweet dreams were soured by the morning's events. I tried to casually bring up the whole Rev situation and was met with mild hysterics from the slightly tanned blond sitting across from me at the kitchen island.

  “Is there a neon sign on the roof that says 'Crazies Welcome'?” Cooper asked after he dropped his spoonful of cereal on the counter. The Rev was obviously not mealtime conversation material. “You're a living, breathing, walking calamity. You know he's infamous in the werewolf community, right? The PC hasn't been able to catch him for something like twenty years, which is almost as unheard of as the PC's assassin being in love with his target.”

  He delivered a sting with his last statement and the sentiment was plastered all over his face; he did not approve of Sean.

  “Point made, Cooper. Can we try to move along to more important and pressing issues now, like what the Rev might be after. He's been far more talkative in his little psychotic motion pictures lately,” I said, trying with great annoyance to get back on topic. “But I'm worried about this, Coop. The PC knows that the Rev and I have this weird little connection, and I wouldn't doubt that it's only adding fuel to the kill-Ruby fire. I don't want to drag you into the flames with me by telling you something you shouldn't know.”

  “If you go down, I go down. It's as simple as that,” he said, pinning his hazel eyes on mine. “I'd rather go down knowing why.”

  I truly hated the idea of jeopardizing him, but he was right. He was likely to be guilty by association anyway. It was best to let him in on what I knew.

  “Okay,” I said reluctantly. “Here's what I know. He's out for revenge, but I have no idea why or with whom. He wants me to choose sides, but says I'm running out of time to make that choice.”

  “Sides? Are you playing Red Rover?” he asked, a smirk flashing across his face before seriousness overtook it. "Did he tell you how much time you had?”

  “Not really, just that I didn't have long.”

  “Helpful.”

  “Not especially. Why are the whackjobs always so cryptic?”

  “Part of the job description, I imagine,” he replied unhelpfully. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah...sorta. He said something about 'birds of a feather'. He told me to pass the message on to Scarlet.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “What did she say about it?”

  “Nothing. It's not as if she can't hear him...or at least I think she can.”

  Jesus, Ruby. I live here too, of course I can hear him.

  “Well then if you can hear him, why didn't you respond to him?”

  I can't seem to make my way to the forefront when he has you enthralled like that. Believe me, I'm trying. But mainly it's because I haven't got a fucking clue what he's talking about.

  “So no ideas then?”

  Nothing other than further speculation. I do think he's trying me, though.

  “Trying you?”

  “What's she saying?” Cooper asked impatiently.

  Taunting me. And I must say it's working. I'd like two minutes alone with him to correct that behavior.

  “She said he's taunting her, or at least she thinks that's what he's doing.”

  “It's possible,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Rogues are unpredictable, but one of their consistent behaviors is tormenting those around them. Some do like to challenge those that they see as worthy adversaries too. Perhaps your boy has some weird cocktail of both.”

  “Challenge them how?”

  “Draw them into a fight. Rogues love killing, the greater the challenge the better. Some will invade a pack's territory for the ultimate game. We had one try that once. Gregory disposed of him quickly.”

  “I bet he did,” I shuddered, knowing all too well what Gregory was capable of. My stomach ached psychosomatically at the thought of him. “So what's he doing, creating a turf battle or something?”

  “Could be,” he replied while shoving a heaping spoon of granola into his mouth. “Or could be that he's just trying to feel her out.”

  “OK, that's all well and good, but how is he doing it? He's got some crazy psychic network connections?”

  “I still don't know what to make of that one. I'd hoped you or Scarlet would have ideas.”

  None.

  “Looks like we're plum out of them over here,” I sighed, leaning back against the kitchen cabinets. “So where does that leave us then?”

  “Right back where you started, I imagine,” he replied, looking grim.

  “And that is?”

  “Screwed.�
�

  Finally.

  “Ah yes, my favorite destination. I'm so lucky to get the opportunity to visit there often,” I mocked. “And he didn't mean screwed literally, Scarlet. Try to focus on the issue at hand, please.”

  “I could have meant it literally,” Cooper added with a grin.

  I like where he's going with this.

  “You would.”

  “Would what?” he asked confused.

  “Ugh, I wish I wasn't having two separate conversations right now. It's exhausting,” I lamented. “I was talking to Scarlet. She seems to like your ideas about being 'screwed' more than mine.”

  “That's because mine are more fun," he said playfully, but there was nothing playful about the eyes he pinned on me. I needed to get away quickly.

  “And with that I'm off to the shower,” I announced, pushing off of the kitchen cabinets.

  “Alone?” he asked as I walked away.

  “Am I ever really alone, Cooper? I have an ever-present, internal traveling companion,” I groaned, making my way down the hall. “Then you throw in the roommate, the employee, and the morally confused mercenary—pain in my ass or not, it's all for one and one for all.”

  “So was that a 'yes', then?”

  “Yes, Cooper. I'm showering alone,” I called to him as I closed the bathroom door. He was persistent, if nothing else. Even in his seriousness, he found a way to make me giggle. Intentional or not, I didn't care. My life needed as many of those laughs as I could scrounge up. Cooper was a keeper for sure.

  * * *

  I hadn't talked to Sean since I left Boston right after Thomas died. I knew that trend wasn't going to last for long. The conversation that Sophie and I had the evening before was still running through my mind. I worked over every angle I could, trying to figure out her motives. Sophie had proven herself resourceful when an opportunity presented itself, and I would have been a fool to think that she was only thinking of Sean's well-being. Offing me was a wet dream for her, and I knew she was salivating at the thought—she could practically taste her victory.

  Putting that aside, I still needed to acknowledge that no matter how self-serving her motives may have been, if Sean was in danger because of me, I owed it to him to figure a way out of it. I had no idea how to get him to absolve himself of his oath, or if I even wanted to do that at all. Selfish though it may have been, I wasn't feeling quick to hang myself out to dry. Part of what nagged at me was the discrepancy between Sean's belief that he was invincible and Sophie's claim that he wasn't.

  When I originally found out about his alleged invincibility, his actions made so much more sense. Swearing on his life if he knew he couldn't lose it was a win/win for him. His chivalrous move was tarnished slightly with that knowledge. What I couldn't quite figure out was if he really thought or knew that he was, or if it was just a well built up reputation earned over millennia of fighting. If he'd bought into his own hype over those years, that arrogance was likely to bite him in the ass hard.

  I didn't want to side with Sophie, but on that issue, she seemed to be the most sensible side. She may have had everything to gain from me not being personally protected by him, but she also stood to lose everything she had if he died. She was desperate, and her actions reflected that; coming to ask for my help was a last ditch effort for sure. She knew something about his mortality, and, though she seemed loathe to admit it, she exposed that weakness to me because it was her trump.

  She also had a point about my death being somewhat inevitable, if she was right about the Elders coming. Did I want to bring Sean down with me out of cowardice? I wouldn't have allowed that either, so it left me in a pickle: to cleave or not to cleave.

  Cooper had gone out to the library for the day to study for some class that sounded horrible and made me glad that I wasn't in school anymore. I never mentioned the Sophie events of the night before because I knew exactly what he'd have to say about it and none of it would have been especially helpful. I was hoping to have more time to digest the facts and weigh my options, but, as Murphy's Law would have it, Sean showed up before I was prepared to have our talk.

  I was in the bathroom, trying out a new hair diffuser for my blowdryer. Although it looked dubious, Peyta said her hairdresser was raving about it for those cursed with curly locks, so she bought one for me on her way out of the salon. It took me a good fifteen minutes to get the hang of it, but once I did I was fluffing and tousling in record time.

  The downside was that the low vibrating sound of the dryer drowned out everything else in the apartment. When I finished with the process, I stepped out of the bathroom right into Sean's solidly built frame, bumping me back a step or two back into the room I'd just left.

  “Christ, Sean!” I gasped, retreating another step or two backward to catch myself against the wall. “Why are you working so hard to keep me alive when you're hellbent on giving me a frigging heart attack?”

  “I rang the bell. You didn't answer.”

  “That usually indicates that one should come back at another time because the occupant is either busy or gone.”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes it just means they're unable to hear.”

  “How did you even get up...scratch that. I don't even want to know,” I said, extending my flat hand out towards him to block any answer he was willing to provide. “Who did I kill now?”

  “Nobody. Yet...,” he replied slowly. “I came to talk to you about the Rev. I'm concerned about that situation.”

  “Take a number,” I said flatly, still clutching my chest as my heart, though slowing, pounded hard.

  “Listen, I didn't want to make a bigger deal than necessary yesterday, but this is bad, Ruby. I think we've got a legitimate problem here.”

  “I'm aware of how legitimate the problem is, Sean. He's been playing in my mind, not yours.”

  “Would you stop for a minute?” he asked, grabbing my shoulders for emphasis. “There's been a lot of talk since your production in the yard. The term 'cahoots' was thrown around far more than I would like. They're becoming convinced that somehow you're both responsible for all the killings. Some think you might be using him to actually carry out the murders. Even your former sympathizers are bailing on you now...all but one."

  Jay.

  “Color me surprised,” I said, pushing past him towards my bedroom. “You didn't think it'd be helpful did you?” The silence I was met with indicated that my sarcasm wasn't appreciated. “Seriously, Sean, don't you see that I can never win with them?" I pleaded, my frustration building. "You being a party to that is only going to hurt you in the long run. I don't want that on my head.”

  “It won't be. I made a choice.”

  “So unmake it.”

  He cocked his head to the side, looking intently at me across my bed. I immediately found something else to pay attention to.

  “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  “You first,” he ordered. I knew enough to know that I'd cave long before he ever would, so holding out on Sean was the very definition of an exercise in futility.

  “Because." He arched his right eyebrow at me, and I sighed. I really didn't want to have this conversation with him, and I certainly didn't feel comfortable being forced to share my deepest emotions either. Saying I love you was one thing, but professing that I couldn't stand for one second the thought of a life without him on any level was something I was ill equipped for. My body vibrated uncomfortably as I forced the words out of my mouth. “Because I can't stand the thought of you being dead, okay? I know that probably makes me a complete headcase and I hate that I'm even saying it, but there it is, Sean. Happy now?”

  I abruptly threw my hands up in the air just so they could crash down to my sides dramatically. I'd put my cards on the table and nervously awaited the result. Vulnerability was not my forte.

  “Why would that be so terrible?” he asked. “Me dead, that is.”

  “Are you shitting me?” I asked, suddenly feeling exploited. “I just don't li
ke it, alright? Besides, you know damn well why. I'm already in uncomfortable territory here...don't be an ass about this.”

  “But if you were dead too, why would it matter?”

  “It would matter because I have a conscience, Sean. It would matter because if you were killed first, I'd spend the last few moments of my life sickened with guilt, knowing that I could have prevented it. And since I highly doubt that either of us will be going to heaven after the things we've done, I'd never see you again.”

  “It's never going to happen, Ruby.”

  “What? You dying or us not seeing each other again?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “Neither. It's a non-issue because I can't die.”

  “You cocky shit. You really won't listen to reason, will you? Did she go through all the trouble of telling you what's going on with the Elders for you to just blow it off like you do everything else?”

  “Did who tell me what?” he asked before he caught up with the conversation. “Aha. I see you've spoken with Sophie. What exactly did she tell you?”

  “Enough,” I replied sharply. I felt the tears pressing tightly below the surface, and I was determined to keep them at bay. “I know that the Elders are coming and why. I know that you're far too arrogant or stupid to give a shit, and I also know that any way you slice it, I'll likely be six feet under once they arrive.”

  “Sophie's paranoid, Ruby. Why would you all of a sudden start listening to her anyway?”

  “I didn't. Believe me, I was quick to call her out on her shit, but the reasons behind her meddling are solid despite what she stands to gain from it.”

  “What did she want?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the wall.