Runner: Book II of The Chosen

by Roh Morgon

  She has a point. I would go crazy if I was cooped up in this room for half a day, let alone several.

  I glance at the clock. 9:36. I have time.

  “What about the book I bought you?”

  “I finished it.”

  “Well, we could run to the grocery store and see if they have anything else you’d like.”

  “Could I get some snacks, and maybe some sodas or something to drink?” she asks hopefully.

  “Aren’t you on some sort of restricted diet for a while?”

  “Not really. There’s a few things they said I shouldn’t eat for now. But mostly I can have what I want.”

  “All right then.” I hand her the pad of paper and pen from the desk. “Make a list.”

  “Okay.”

  “And we’ll go on one condition.”

  “Yeah?”

  “That when we get back, you’ll stay here in the hotel after I leave. No going out when I’m not here. Deal?” I stare directly at her.

  “Uh, yeah. Deal. No problem.” Her eyes go wide as she stammers her answer.

  Hiding my smile, I turn to get my bag. I do enjoy the effect my stare has on people. It usually gets me exactly what I want.

  I watch from the car as she weakly shuffles up and down the grocery aisles, my frustration mounting.

  Damn it.

  She should be the one sitting in the car, resting, and I should be the one in there, shopping.

  But I can hear it now. “Cleanup on aisle four. Make that five as well, and six…”

  The beast jumps up hungrily at the bloody images that are suddenly traipsing through my head.

  Snarling, I fold my arms and slump down in the car, watching as Sandy goes through the checkout. When she finally hands over the cash, I get out and wait by the side of the car. A young guy bags her groceries, talking animatedly with her as she laughs and nods. He sets the bags in the cart and pushes it toward the door as she walks alongside.

  I debate whether or not to go help her and decide I’m probably better off staying here at the car. I watch as they approach, hammering down the beast that is eagerly watching as well.

  “Would you like me to put these in the trunk, ma’am?” His warm spicy scent radiates toward me and a short strawberry-blond curl flips onto his forehead as he speaks.

  No, cuz I’ll probably stuff you in there, too, right alongside the bloody hunting clothes.

  “No. I’ll take them. Thanks.” My tone is clipped as I barely restrain a growl.

  Sandy’s eyebrows raise in surprise as I grab the front of the cart and tug it sharply out of the boy’s grasp.

  “Well, okay, then. Have a nice night.” His expression puzzled and a little alarmed, he smiles briefly at Sandy and quickly walks back to the store.

  “That was pretty rude… ,” she begins.

  “Save it. Get in the car.” I grab the bags from the cart and put them in the back seat.

  She hesitates, then, her back stiff with indignation, settles carefully into the front seat.

  Getting in, I slam the door and, without looking at her, start the car. I don’t waste any time getting out onto the street.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  I bite my tongue, literally, to keep from snapping at her. The pain distracts me momentarily from the agitation that is threatening to boil out of my veins. Until it triggers a new rush of hunger.

  That was stupid.

  Staring straight ahead, I focus on driving somewhat legally. That’s all I need. Wouldn’t want to be the cop pulling me over tonight.

  “Is it something I did?” she asks.

  I take a deep breath and try to calm down.

  “I’m sorry. This is not about you. But I don’t want to talk about it, and I’d like you to stop asking me questions right now.”

  “Okaaay.” Out of the corner of my eye I see her turn and face straight ahead.

  The rest of the ride back to the hotel is thankfully silent.

  11:07. I still have a couple hours before the hunger starts to become a real concern, but I don’t want to let it get to that point. Folding the empty grocery bags, I look over at Sandy in her bed as she readjusts the pillows behind her back.

  The explosive tension I’ve been trying to contain has faded now that I’m away from other people. Even the idea of being in close quarters with them had me on edge. I stuff the bags in the crack between the mini-fridge and the wall, then standing, lean back against the dresser and fold my arms.

  “Sandy.”

  She looks up at me, the questions and the hurt shining in her green eyes.

  “I’m sorry about… earlier, and the fact that I can’t stay to help you out and keep you company. I can’t explain what’s going on, but please believe me when I say that it has nothing to do with you.”

  “I get it. I know something happened, and I wish you would talk to me about it. But I think part of it is that you feel like you can’t leave me to go back to… wherever you came from. Where you should be heading right now. I just feel bad that I’m keeping you here when we both know you should go.”

  My insides writhe as I concentrate on the stillness that is the only thing holding me together.

  Because she’s right. I would be back in the Springs by now. Which only reaffirms my belief that we were supposed to meet. That there is some reason why we did and for everything that’s happened since I picked her up in the middle of the road.

  “I’m not quite ready to go back. I need to figure some things out and make some firm decisions before I do. Your situation has nothing to do with it,” I say carefully.

  “Well, then, maybe it has something to do with your daughter.”

  My chest tightens. She’s too astute, and now I’m done with this conversation. I push off from the dresser and grab my bag.

  “I need to go. Call if you need anything. Leave a voicemail—I’ll check periodically for messages.”

  “Will you be back in the morning?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not. I’ll call you when I wake up.”

  “Okay.”

  I head for the door. As I’m closing it, I hear her say, “Sunny, I’m sorry.”

  Me, too.

  Images swirl around in my head like the dust the BMW is raising as we fly up the dirt road. A baby’s face framed in black curls, bright blue eyes shining with innocence. A daughter’s face, the same blue eyes gazing at her child with motherly love.

  And the one who overshadows them both. Emerald eyes flashing red with desire, his sensuous lips curled to give me his sharp caress.

  Other faces spin into view. A boy balancing on the knife-edge of danger, slips and becomes a broken, twisted ragdoll drenched in blood. A pleasure-seeking girl, addicted to her impending death, her life draining from her drop by drop. An arrogant and cruel young man, screaming in agony as first one monster, then another, drinks the very life from him.

  The maelstrom speeds up, the faces flashing by faster and faster, and I feel its force begin to tear away at the bindings that hold the black emptiness closed. Pain flashes through me, and the rip in my gut from which it flares is not from the stab of a horn.

  Oh God, no! Please, no… I can’t take this anymore…

  Wrenching the wheel to the side, I slam on the brakes and yank the key from the ignition. I’m out the door before the car comes to a full stop.

  I run.

  SUNDAY

  CHAPTER 14

  The sun is beating down on my face, and I crack open an eye and snarl at the unwelcome intrusion of searing light.

  Go away. I don’t want to wake up. Ever.

  Shifting on the hard knobby limb under me, I realize the pain in my rib is from the stub of a broken branch.

  Screw it.

  I jump down from the tree, landing awkwardly off-balance, and realize I’m hungover from the orgy I drowned myself in last night. My clothes are stiff with dried blood and reek from the potpourri of dying animal stink that permeates them. I reach up and feel my ha
ir—it’s the same as my clothes, crunching as I pull a section away from my blouse where it was stuck.

  Shit. I rub at an itchy spot on my face, and crusted blood flakes off, the rust-colored sprinkles drifting away on the slight breeze.

  I shake my head, trying to clear it. I let the beast run amok last night, killing everything the hunter could find for it. It didn’t matter what it was. If it breathed, it died.

  Stupid. Waste of life. And I’m sure the whole area is now ruined for hunting. It’s a dead zone and will likely be avoided for quite some time into the future.

  But that doesn’t matter anymore. Because I’m leaving. And I won’t be back.

  I finish scrubbing my hair, face, and arms in the icy snowmelt that is rushing down the little creek. The rest, filthy with the blood that soaked through my clothing, will have to wait until I find the car and fresh clothes.

  Standing, I look around, trying to figure out where the hell I am. I tried backtracking along my trail, but it ran so randomly up and down the mountainsides that after several hours I gave up and just started heading north.

  The peak to my right seems a little familiar and I head up to its top at a brisk jog. When the view below me reveals several stretches of a dirt road, I start making my way downhill toward it, hoping it’s the right one.

  The sun’s still fairly high in the sky when I round a bend on the road and the BMW finally comes into view. I’ve been pretty worried that it had been stolen or towed—I’d be totally screwed. Most everything I have is in that car. Normally I would’ve set up stashes in the area as a backup, but I had no intention of staying this long.

  Pressing the trunk button, I fish out a fresh set of clothes and strip, then take a quick sponge bath using the water from my cleanup kit. When I examine the scar from the antelope, I’m pleased to see that it’s finally lost the pink tinge and is becoming the silver of my other scars. It’s still ragged and a little thick, though, and the pulling I felt when arching my back tells me the healing inside isn’t quite done.

  But it’s a definite improvement over yesterday. The injuries from the bear took several days to heal. Of course, they were much, much worse. I just hope the wild game will be enough, and that I don’t need human blood to finish healing.

  Dressing, I chuckle as I think of the reaction some rancher would have if he came around the bend and saw me standing here naked with bloody clothes lying on the ground. He’d sure have something to talk about—if he was smart enough to keep on driving.

  Yeah.

  The mood I’m in, Nicolas isn’t going to have to convince me to finish the Change. I’ll be able to walk right up to him and announce, “Well, you bastard, you wanted a murderer for a mate? You got one now.”

  Right.

  Disgusted with myself, I stuff the ruined clothes into a plastic bag. At this rate, without access to a washing machine, I’m going to have to go shopping again. I slam the trunk, get in the car, and head down the road.

  Other than being irritable, the hunger still seems to be sated, even though it’s been close to eight hours since I fed. Mass quantities of blood last night probably has something to do with it.

  But the craving for human blood is still there. It somehow feels different than the hunger.

  Crap. Looks like I’ll need to keep avoiding people for a while longer. This ought to be interesting.

  The clock reads 2:07, and I try to recall what day it is. Sunday, maybe.

  Sunday. The eighteenth. Move-in day.

  Good. The sooner I get Sandy settled, the sooner I can leave. The guilt I’ve been feeling over abandoning her pales in significance when compared to the insanity that consumes me whenever I let my thoughts drift to what I left behind in Colorado.

  I rouse the hunter and take hold of her stillness in preparation for the afternoon with Sandy and whatever humans I might encounter. As I pull into the hotel parking lot, I realize I probably should’ve called her when I got into cell range. Oh well.

  Sticking my key card into the lock, I open the door and walk in.

  Yeah, I should’ve called. Because she’s not alone.

  As his rich spicy scent hits me, I recognize the boy from the grocery store. The beast jumps up, watching intently, and I struggle to stay calm.

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t expect you back… so… soon.” Sandy’s voice trails off as she sees my face.

  They’re sitting side by side on her bed, leaning back against the pillow-cushioned headboard, a bowl of chips between them. I glance at the TV they were obviously watching and regret interrupting what is probably a rare teenage moment for Sandy.

  “Uh, I… I was just leaving.” The boy’s strawberry hair falls over his eyes, and he jerks his head to flip it out of the way. He quickly stands and I can smell the fear that is suddenly emanating from him.

  “No problem. I’ll come back later.” I turn around to leave.

  “Wait, Sunny. I can explain.” Her words slide out, smooth and practiced. She’s probably had to say that a lot in her transient life. Poor kid.

  Opening the door, I stop. I take a breath of the hallway air, air that isn’t laden with the boy’s attractive scent, and the scent of his fear calling out to the hunter.

  “Sandy, there’s nothing to explain. You’re not doing anything wrong. You have a friend over. Big deal. I’m going over to the apartment to get situated. I’ll pick you up later.” I try to keep the strain out of my voice, but I don’t think I’m very successful.

  “But wait…” Her voice cuts off as the door closes. I head quickly down the hall past the elevator to the stairwell.

  The room door opens. “Sunny!” she calls.

  I stop at the stairwell door, turn around, and wait as she makes her way along the hall. I can see that she is still weak, and concern suddenly replaces the tension that is rippling through me.

  “Sunny, what’s wrong? I just wanted to introduce you to Danny. He’s very nice. I just wanted him to see that you’re really cool, ya know, once someone gets to know you. You kinda… freak him out.” Her green eyes search mine, and I glance away, considering my answer, then look back at her.

  “Sandy, I told you that being around people was difficult for me sometimes. Well, I lied. It’s difficult for me most of the time, and lately, all of the time. Except for you. I don’t know why that is—it just is. So I really have no interest in meeting Danny, and right now, it would be best for all of us if I don’t. So let it go.” I watch as she nods in surrender. “Call me to pick you up when you’re done with your movie—preferably before dark.”

  “No, I want to come with you now. I’ll just tell Danny that I need to go and will call him later.”

  “Well, it’s up to you.” I pause, giving her one more chance to change her mind.

  “It’ll just take me a few minutes to pack up my stuff. Do you mind waiting?” She looks at me hopefully.

  “No. I’ll be back in a little while, no rush.” I turn, open the stairwell door, and head down, ending the conversation.

  I watch from the car as Danny comes through the lobby doors and walks across the parking lot to a beat-up white Toyota Corolla. Huh. Not even a pickup truck. In cowboy country, that definitely makes him a misfit. No wonder they hit it off so well.

  Hell, I’d probably like him if I didn’t want his blood so badly. There’s just something about it that makes him extra attractive. Remembering red-haired Terry from the club, I wonder if it’s because Danny’s a strawberry blond. Maybe it’s like Terry said, that it has something to do with the red gene making their blood so spicy and desirable.

  As he pulls out of the parking lot, I breathe a sigh of relief, head into the hotel, and back up the stairwell.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Wow. This is my room?” Sandy stands at the doorway, staring at the surprisingly large bedroom. The bed is a queen and a five-drawer dresser stands against the wall next to the sliding closet doors.

  “Yeah. All yours.” I walk in and put her backpack on the bed, then se
t her bags of clothing from our shopping trip on the floor. Opening the closet door, I count the hangers.

  “This should be enough, but if you need more, there’re some in the coat closet.”

  “Oh, this is so cool—I can’t believe it!” She walks in and plops on the bed, running her hand over the mattress.

  “Looks like we need to pick up bedding, towels, soap…” And a sturdy lock for my bedroom door, even though I don’t plan to stay long.

  “Can we go shopping? I’ll make a list!” Sandy looks up, eyes shining.

  This is worth it. Seeing her happy over such human things makes me feel, well, more human myself.

  “Sure. You make the list. I’ll buy.”

  “Awesome!” She claps her hands like a little girl.

  It is awesome.

  The sun is starting to go down as I take the sheets out of the dryer. I throw the wet towels in and bundle up the sheets to take back to the apartment.

  Sandy is humming to the song playing on her new portable stereo as I walk up to her doorway. I watch as she fusses with the little dragon figurines I let her buy, turning them this way and that on her dresser.

  I tap on her open door. She jumps and turns around.

  “Shit. I wish you wouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”

  “I thought you could… feel… people.” I try to keep from smirking.

  “No. It doesn’t work like that. It’s only when people are really super emotional, and mostly just when they’re upset or pissed off. But sometimes I’ll be near someone who is really happy, and I like that cuz it makes me happy, too.”

  Well, she probably won’t get much of that from me. I snort to myself and walk in with the sheets. I set the bundle on the chair I brought in from the dining room and pull out the bottom sheet. As I start to put it on her bed, she steps over to help.