by Linda Mooney
His breath caught in his throat. The woman was willing to sacrifice her life to save his.
Once, a long time ago, when he had been a child, he had first learned about Sensitives when he had overheard several people in the village talking about them. One woman in particular, someone he didn’t know, had argued that Sensitives were not evil purveyors of dark magick. She had tried to persuade them that Sensitives were among the most gentle, giving, and loving of people. Totally misunderstood because of people’s fears of having their deepest emotions revealed. Sensitives could reach in and uncover a lie as easily as opening the lid to a box. They could sense when a person was being dishonest, or when someone was planning on doing harm to another. They could bare a person’s soul if they chose to, or felt it necessary, and because of the threat of having their deepest intimacies and thoughts known, common people feared them. Over the years the tales and falsehoods continued to assail him until he was convinced Sensitives were the evildoers they were portrayed to be.
Maybe the woman who had fought to erase their prejudice had been a Sensitive herself. It would make sense.
If he had met Tora before she’d touched him, if he had discovered what she was before that first contact, Croat knew he would have tried to kill her regardless of his injuries. But because of that first touch…
Her sensitive touch…
He was a condemned man, no matter what the future held. Unhappily, Croat realized he was slowly, inexorably coming to care for the woman cuddled behind him.
Damn his soul. It was last thing he needed.
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Chapter 7
Plot
He slept fitfully. The pain refused to give him any respite. The revelation that he was starting to care for Tora shocked him and kept him from getting any sleep. Worse, his hard-on was not letting him forget about that other condition either. Still, Croat managed to get a little rest.
As the night sky slowly began to brighten, Croat gave himself a little wiggle, stretching what muscles he could and flexing his fingers. Testing to see how far he might have healed.
“Tora? Tora, wake up. Wake up.”
He could sense her reaction to hearing him say her name, but the heaviness of sleep continued to cling to her.
“Tora, we must talk. I have a plan. Tora, wake up.”
It had come to him from out of nowhere. Once the idea had formed, he had dwelled on it, chewed on it, found any number of faults with it, yet it was the only possible solution he could come up with at the moment. He hoped that by discussing it with Tora she might be able to provide some suggestions, if not a more feasible idea.
She slowly drifted upward from the depths of sleep. Her hand twitched, tickling his already tight skin, then withdrew as she tried to roll onto her back. Croat heard her sigh and moan softly. The sound of it shot straight to his abdomen, and his slightly softened erection reversed itself, swelling once again. Croat cursed himself.
“Croat?â�� Her voice was hoarse.
“Tora, wake up,â�� he repeated. â��Today may be our only chance to get out of here.”
Pulling herself away from him, she helped him roll all the way onto his back. Fear and wonder immediately washed through her, wiping away the last bit of sleepiness. Croat glanced up to see her eyes riveted on the heavily veined pole arching upward from between his legs.
“Tora.”
She tore her eyes away from his erection, but the fascination didn’t lessen.
“Tora, we can’t go another night. I can’t. I won’t make it.”
Sadness pelted him. Her sadness. He watched concern fill her dark brown eyes. â��You can’t die,â�� she whispered as she brushed his hair away from his face.
“Neither can you,â�� he argued. When she opened her mouth to answer, he interrupted. â��I think there might be a way we can escape, but I’m going to need your help.”
Her eyes darted back to his swollen member.
“I’m growing more and more animalistic,â�� Croat told her, hoping she would take his sexual need as being part of his nonhuman makeup. A Sensitive could read his emotions, not his mind. Tora would be very aware by now of how much he was fighting his desires. When she turned her attention back to him, he continued.
“When your meal arrives, somehow you must convince the jailor I’m dead and starting to rot.”
Her nose wrinkled, but she didn’t question him, although he could feel her doubt.
“If he thinks I’m dead, I’m hoping he won’t call for more of the guards. I’m hoping he’ll come in first to investigate by himself. If he does, I might be able to overcome him.”
“But what if he doesn’t? What if he brings in more men? Or you can’t overpower him?”
“There’s a lot of risks, yes,â�� he told her. â��But unless we can think of an alternative…”
Croat realized she was combing his hair with her fingers. It was an absentminded gesture. It gave him the impression she might have done it countless times before for her brother. Or another man.
With a start, Croat couldn’t remember if she had said anything about having a husband or lover.
“What’s wrong?â�� Tora asked, gazing down at him.
“Nothing’s wrong. You never mentioned if there was someone watching after your brother. Don’t you have friends? Or another man in your life who could provide for him?”
“I’ve never had a lover, if that’s what you’re asking. And the closest thing I’ve ever had to a friend are the Meesoms. I’ve been praying they took Basil in. He can’t fend for himself.”
“Are there any men Sensitives?”
“No. Only women.”
“So your mother, and your mother’s mother were Sensitives?”
Tora nodded. â��My father was a man she’d met in one of the villages she used to live in. She’d started running after her own mother was killed.â�� Tora rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes, including a few tears. â��He knew she was a Sensitive, but he loved her anyway. For five years they had a safe, happy marriage, until she was revealed. My father died trying to protect her from the other townspeople. She managed to get away, taking me and Basil with her.”
Tora suddenly yawned. Croat caught it and did the same. Her stroking fingers never ceased, but his erection eased a bit, to his relief. He wondered if it was because of the sorrow he could feel emanating from her.
“Croat, what happens if we manage to overcome the guard? What then?”
“You’ll have to help me out of here.”
She shook her head. â��I don’t know the way out.”
“I do,â�� he reassured her.
“Then what?”
“Then I’ll call for help.”
Frowning, Tora asked how.
“Some of my people already know I’m here,â�� Croat told her. â��They’ve been keeping watch on the baron’s castle ever since my capture.”
“Why haven’t they tried to get you out?”
“Because they don’t know where I am in the dungeon. The passages are too convoluted. Plus, there’s too many of the baron’s armed men, and too few of them, to try and attempt a rescue. They’re waiting for me to make the next move.”
He saw her glance up at the tiny window. â��What if you don’t? I mean, can’t?â�� she asked.
“They will wait a week. If I’m not out by then, or if I don’t answer their call, they’ll know I’m dead or too far gone.”
Tora frowned. â��What do you mean answer their call?â�� As soon as she’d said the words, she understood. â��Oh. The howling I hear outside. Is that them?”
“Yes.”
They lapsed into silence, but Tora continued to stroke his hair, his face, and his scalp. After some time had passed, Croat asked her to turn him back over onto his right side, back in the position where the baron’s men had left him. She didn’t ask if any movement hurt him. She already knew. Once he was settled,
she began trailing her fingertips over his neck and back.
Croat chuckled. â��I’m beginning to feel like a pet.”
The fingers went away. â��I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t stop. Every time you stay in contact with me the pain lessens.â�� He waited for her to start up again before he asked, â��Are you taking the pain away?”
“No. It’s still there. I’m simply covering it up with other stimuli.”
He closed his eyes and felt around inside himself for her healing strength. He found it, sitting distantly apart from the rest of his body.
“That’s why you’re stroking me,â�� he murmured. â��It keeps the pain at bay.”
“Your body can heal faster when it doesn’t have to fight the pain.”
Conversation died. Tora continued to touch him, soothe him. Croat finally managed to get some rest.
It was near midday when her sudden rise of fear awoke him. As he gathered his wits about him, he heard the clank of chains as she retreated to the far side of the room. In the distance his ears picked up the heavy, lazy thud of boots approaching…pausing…moving slowly toward their cell. The jailor was making his rounds with trays of food for the prisoners.
It was mealtime.
It was now or never.
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Chapter 8
Escape
“What do you want me to do?â�� Tora whispered across the cell.
“Convince the jailor I’m dead. He has to come into the cell. I have to be able to reach him. Whatever you need to do or say to convince him to come inside by himself…â�� Croat left the rest unsaid. Instead he assumed what he hoped would be a convincing posture of a dead Lupan, and slowed his breathing.
Moments later the sound of the boots stopped at their door. The tiny slot at the bottom opened, and a voice called out, â��Hey, girlie?”
“Get me out of here!â�� Tora suddenly screamed. â��Get me out of here! I can’t take it!”
Her outburst shocked both Croat and the jailor, who called back, â��Shut the fuck up! Why should I care?”
“Why should you care?â�� she bitterly replied. â��You bring this creature into my cell, you beat him to a pulp and leave him to die. And now he’s starting to rot…and you ask why should you care? Please,â�� she sobbed loudly. â��Please! Move me to another cell. I don’t care. Please! I can’t take the smell, or the rats and the maggots. Please!”
She continued to bawl loudly, but Croat managed to detect the jailor bending down to the little door and sniffing.
“Quit your lying, bitch. I ain’t falling for it. I don’t smell anything,â�� he finally announced.
Tora shot back, â��You’re outside the door! You won’t be able to smell it until it turns black and starts purtrefying!â�� She made very convincing gagging sounds. â��Oh, gods! I think I’m going to be sick. Is this what you bastards intended for me? What kind of torture is this?”
The jailor laughed, totally unaffected by her pleas. Still, he pondered this new circumstance. Curiosity was getting the better of him. â��Are you sure the beast is dead?”
Tora responded with an ear-shattering scream. It resounded with every ounce of fear and frustration she felt, and the sound of it sent a cold blanket of dread through Croat.
Incredibly, it seemed to do the trick. Apparently the jailor had his instructions to make sure the Lupan survived and fed off the woman. If the Lupan happened to die, the jailor would be partly to blame.
There was the sound of a key in the lock; the narrow wooden door swung open. There was a shuffling of boots as the jailor peeked inside, audibly sniffing. Tora continued wailing, hoping to distract the man from the fact that Croat was still alive.
The man started to say something else when she suddenly crawled on hands and knees over to him, dragging her chain, dropped herself almost at his feet, and started begging.
“Please! Please! Move me to another cell, or take this awful carcass away. Please!”
The jailor ignored her plea and walked confidently over to Croat. The toe of a boot nudged him in the back, but Croat kept up the appearance of death with his tongue lolling from the corner of his open mouth.
“I don’t see any maggots,â�� the man argued, bending over slightly to get a better look. Although it was the middle of the day, the amount of light penetrating the tiny room was sparse.
“What do you mean, you can’t see them? They’re falling off the carcass and crawling on the floor,â�� Tora told him, adding a shudder. Suddenly, she shrieked again and pointed to a far corner. â��There they are again! Can’t you see them? The rats are back!”
“Where?â�� the jailor half-asked, half-demanded. It was the last thing he would say.
With a loud growl, Croat rolled backwards and grabbed the man by the front of his coat with his good right hand. With the last of his fading strength, he managed to throw the man onto the rough, rocky floor. The jailor flailed his arms, but the unexpected attack prevented him from being able to defend himself. Before he could utter a sound, he hit the floor with the side of his head, temporarily stunning him…but it would be enough.
“Tora.”
She looked up to see Croat draped over the man.
“Push the door, then turn away and cover your ears.”
“What are you…â�� Her face paled to an almost pure white color. â��Oh, sweet gods! You’re going to eat him, aren’t you?”
“If I don’t, I won’t survive another night, Tora. You won’t survive. My animal instincts are taking over my humanity, even as we speak. Do what I say,â�� Croat rasped. â��I don’t want you to witness any more of this than you have to. Hurry!”
He watched her scramble on hands and knees over to the door. The chain prevented her from leaving the cell, but she could push the door with no trouble. After giving him a fearful glance, she retreated to the furthest corner of the tiny room, turned her back to him, and covered her ears.
The jailor moaned slightly as he slowly regained consciousness. Croat eyed the man with disdain and distaste. He had fought other men in his Lupan form before, but he had never eaten one. It was considered the worst possible degradation for a Lupan to consume human flesh, although there were stories told about instances in the past where some had faced no other alternative in order to survive.
This was to be one of those moments, Croat knew. What had once been a possibility was now a certainty, and unavoidable. If he and Tora had the remotest chance of leaving the baron’s dungeon, he had to have the strength to escape.
Lowering his face to where his muzzle brushed the jailor’s ear, Croat whispered, â��I know naught about you, your past, or your family. But I know you would do everything in your power to keep me here in order to torment me. So I must kill you. Hopefully the sacrifice of your flesh and your blood will be enough to redeem your soul.”
The man’s eyes widened slightly as Croat’s words sunk in. The next instant, Croat dug his fangs into the man’s neck and ripped away all of the tissue and blood vessels down to the spine.
While the jailor’s body flopped about like a grounded fish, Croat hurried to consume as much as he could while fighting with the reality of what he was doing. There was no way he could foretell if or when another one of the baron’s jailors would be coming around to check on the prisoners, or to see why one of their own failed to report back.
By sheer willpower, he managed to keep himself from regurgitating what he bolted down. He lapped at the hot blood pouring from the neck wound then ripped away the man’s clothes in order to get to the soft abdomen. From there he could reach the heart, the kidneys, and especially the liver with its rich blood source. With every bite, Croat could feel himself growing stronger. He prayed it would be enough.
With his belly finally filled, Croat sat back to examine the damage. Just as he had figured, the carnage was too great to try and hide. They had to leave now.
The ring of keys was still attached to the man’s belt. Grabbing them, Croat tossed them over to Tora. The keys bounced off the wall and landed next to her. He saw her uncover her ears in order to pick them up.
“Release yourself. Hurry!”
“Are you…done?”
“Yes. Hurry, Tora. We may not have much time.”
He tried to get to his feet, but his body was not yet ready. Instead, he managed to crawl with his one good arm over to the door and open it. He sniffed outside to see if he could detect another person nearby. The outer corridor smelled of dampness and human waste, but not of another living human.
The cuff opened with an audible click. Croat turned in time to see Tora glance over at the remains of the jailor before she gulped and averted her eyes. Then she looked over at him, and fresh fear pushed through him. Croat realized how he must look to her, but she had to overcome her revulsion if either of them were to escape.
“Tora, we need each other to get out of here. I can’t walk. Not yet.”
She nodded and helped him to his feet, allowing him to drape an arm over her shoulder. Slowly they managed to stand upright. Once they emerged into the corridor, Croat gave a little nod to their left.
“Are you sure?â�� she whispered.
“Trust me.”
“I do,â�� she said, and he realized with a start that she did. Even though he was covered in gore, a creature resembling the worst of creation’s nightmares, she was willing to place her life in his hands.
The jailor had left his small lit torch in the wall sconce by the door. It was too risky to take it, and too difficult to manage even if they did. Tora needed both of her hands to hold onto him, and he had to use his one good arm to cling to her. Silently they opted to leave it, and together they made their way down the totally dark tunnel toward what they hoped would be freedom.
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Chapter 9
Aid
“Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?”
