“Who are you?” I tried to keep my tone friendly.
He didn't respond or even look up. Instead he began to unpack the basket.
“Where's Layla?” I tried again.
It was as though he was deaf. My words had no discernible impact on him.
Once he'd placed the food on the tray, he slid it slowly along the floor until it was within my reach.
“Thank you.” I somehow managed a smile, but it was wasted on him. He still refused to look at me.
“Hey, you!” My resolve had been exhausted. “I'm speaking to you. Look at me!”
He raised his head, and our eyes locked for a moment.
“Where's Layla?”
“Eat the food,” he said.
“Where is this place?”
He turned and made his way back to the door.
“Please!” I screamed.
He stopped and turned to face me. For a moment, I thought he was going to speak. He didn't. Instead, he turned back to the door, and within moments had left.
“Come back here, you bastard. Answer my questions!”
I listened, but could hear nothing. He hadn't arrived in a vehicle. What did that mean? I wasn't sure. I grabbed the tray and put it onto the table. It was the same selection of food except this time I had a pear instead of an apple. I was still hungry after I'd eaten it all.
By mid morning the next day, I was hungry, and eager for my food to be delivered. Would it be Layla or the young male? All day long, I listened for the sound of a vehicle and kept an eye on the door handle. No one came. It took all of my inner strength to keep a lid on my panic. What if no one came the next day or the day after that? How long would it take me to starve?
Chapter 3
It was the following morning when I heard the vehicle. It seemed an age until it came to a halt outside. The engine died, and shortly after, I heard footsteps approaching the door.
“Good morning, Louise,” Layla said in a bright and breezy voice as though we'd met up for coffee.
“Where the hell were you yesterday?” I'd promised myself to remain calm and be friendly, but my anger had already bubbled to the surface.
“Be quiet or you'll get no food today either.” She spat the words.
I bit my lip. “Sorry,” I almost choked on the word.
I watched in silence as she unpacked the basket of food.
“Will you at least tell me how long you intend to keep me here?”
“I wouldn't be in any hurry to leave if I was you.”
What did she mean by that, and did I really want to know?
“Where is here?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“We used to be friends.” I tried a different approach.
She stared at me with cold, dead eyes. “That was a long time ago.”
“What happened? I thought we still were.”
“Don't make me laugh,” she scoffed. “We haven't been friends for a long time. You showed your true colours when you chose humans over your own kind.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Do you think I'm stupid?” Her face was full of rage, as she came a little closer. Just two or three steps more and she'd be mine.
“Like father, like daughter,” she said, her voice full of contempt.
“My father loved you as though you were his own child,” I said. “Can't you remember when we were young—?”
“All I know is that your father betrayed us. Betrayed his own pack.”
“He didn't betray anyone. All he did was—”
“All he did was get into bed with the human scum. All he did was forget who we are. And you're just the same.”
“If it hadn't been for my father, many of our pack would have died.”
“At least there would have been honour in their death. Better dead than to surrender to the humans.”
“Is that why you killed him?” I screamed at her. “Killed the man who had shown you nothing but kindness?”
“I didn't kill him.” She hesitated, and for a moment I thought she might show some sign of remorse, but instead she said, “But I'm glad he's dead.”
I'm not sure I'd ever hated anyone more than I hated her at that moment. She'd accused my father of betrayal, but she was the one who'd betrayed her friend. She was the one who'd betrayed the man who had shown her only love.
“Tell me who killed him, Layla. You owe me that much.”
“I don't owe you a thing. You ask too many questions.”
“Craven will find me,” I said. “And when he does I'll avenge my father.”
“Craven?” She laughed. “You'd better forget about him. He's already forgotten you.”
“He's my fated mate. He won't stop searching until he finds me.”
“Listen to me, you stupid bitch.” Layla shouted. “Craven isn't looking for you. He thinks you're dead.”
“I don't believe you.”
“I should know. I was the one who comforted him after he'd been told the bad news.” She sneered.
“What do you mean?”
“I don't know what you see in him. He's not such a great fuck. I've had better.”
I launched myself at her with such force that the whiplash of the chain pulled me onto my backside.
“I can still taste his cock.” Layla ran her tongue along her top lip.
“You're lying.”
“Craven isn't looking for you. No one is looking for you. As far as the outside world is concerned, you're dead.”
She pushed the tray along the floor. “Eat your food.”
I got back to my feet and gave the tray a kick—spilling the contents all over the floor.
*********
I kept track of the days by scoring a small nick into the back of the toilet door. By my calculations, I'd been there for almost six weeks. Six weeks, and I still had no answers.
There was no pattern. Some days I'd receive two food visits. Other days there would be only one. Some days there would be none. Twice a week, on average, I'd be given a change of clothes and a fresh towel. Most days it was Layla who came; occasionally it would be the young male shifter. I took every opportunity to let Layla know exactly what I felt about her. Occasionally, I pushed it too far and ended up without food. With the young male it was different. He rarely spoke. I didn't even know his name.
I was fast asleep when I heard the footsteps outside. It was dark, and although I'd no means of knowing the precise time, my body clock sensed it was the early hours of the morning. Neither Layla nor the young male had visited at this time of day before. The footsteps were much louder than usual, and it seemed as though there might be more than one person. The full moon illuminated the room, so I didn't feel the need to switch on the light. Could it be humans out camping? Maybe they'd stumbled across the cabin. Why would they be wandering around at this time of night? The footsteps came closer until I sensed they were outside the door. Should I cry out for help?
The key turned in the lock, and the three men walked into the room. They stood just inside the doorway, their faces hidden in the shadows.
“Who's there?” I sat up in bed.
The tallest of the three stepped forward so his face was illuminated by the moonlight. I recognised him immediately.
“You killed my father!” I screamed at him, as I leapt off the bed.
The vampire stood his ground as I charged across the room—my arms extended. The chain cracked as it reached its full extent. My hands were only inches from his throat.
“Come closer, you fucking coward!” I yelled.
“Believe me.” The vampire grinned. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
“Then do it. I'll tear your fucking throat out.”
He remained unmoved by my threats. “I can still taste your father's blood.” He ran a finger along his bottom lip. “I'm sure yours will be even sweeter.”
I strained every sinew as I tried to reach him. At one point the tip of my middle finger brushed against his neck. I wasn't s
cared. At least before I died, I'd have the chance to inflict some injuries on the man who'd killed my father.
“What are you waiting for?” I screamed.
“You have spirit,” the vampire said. “I like that.”
“Fuck you!”
“How do you like your accommodation?”
“Why am I here? What do you want with me? Where's Craven?”
“Craven? Don't you know? I assumed they'd have told you already.”
“No one has told me anything. Where is he?”
“He's dead of course.”
“I don't believe you.”
“He came looking for you. Looking for his fated mate.” The vampire's smile sent a chill down my spine.
“Now I know you're lying. You'd be no match for Craven.”
“How little you know. Craven and your father were easy kills.”
“You're a liar. When Craven finds you, he'll—”
“Enough! The sooner you accept that no one is going to come looking for you, the better things will be. I may visit you occasionally, and when the time comes, I'll kill you.”
“Come on, coward! Why not do it now?” It took all of my willpower not to shift. My inner-wolf was desperate to be set loose on him, but I couldn't. Not until I'd found a way to get free of the chain.
He laughed, and then the three of them filed out of the door.
“Coward!” I called after him. “You're a fucking coward.”
Chapter 4
It was early afternoon the next day when I heard the vehicle in the distance.
“I believe you had a visitor last night,” Layla said.
“He said Craven is dead.”
“Oh yes. I should have mentioned that.” Layla grinned. “Must have slipped my mind. Whoops.”
“It's a lie. I'd know if Craven was dead.”
“I saw his body. Seems your fated mate met his fate.” She laughed at her own joke.
“Who is that scum vampire who came to see me last night?”
“He's the one who is going to kill you.”
“What's his name?”
“You don't need to know that.”
“He killed my father. I want to know his name.”
Layla began to unpack the food.
“Why are you working with him?”
“Why don't you shut the fuck up?” She slid the tray over to me.
“I don't want it,” I said.
Layla shrugged. “Please yourself. Don't expect to get double rations tomorrow.”
“I won't want any tomorrow either.”
“What are you planning to do? Starve yourself to death? Good riddance.” Layla turned and went back the way she'd come.
The same thing happened the next day. Layla showed little concern as to whether I ate or not. On the third day, when the young male arrived, I again rejected the food he had brought. For a moment, I thought he was about to say something, but he left without a word.
By day six, I was beginning to feel the effects of having not eaten for so long.
“You have to eat something, you stupid bitch!” Layla screamed at me. “You'll die if you don't eat.”
“What do you care?”
It was the first time I'd seen Layla stumped for a response.
It was a gamble, and I wasn't sure if it would pay off, but I had nothing to lose. It was obvious they wanted me alive for now at least which meant I had one, and only one, bargaining chip. My life. I didn't think they would stand by and let me die of starvation. If they wanted me to eat, they'd have to at least start talking to me. I was under no illusion that they'd let me go, but if I could negotiate a few concessions, then I might find a way out. I didn't dwell on the other alternative—that they might somehow force feed me.
*********
I didn't recognise the noise which woke me early the next morning. Hunger pains hit me the moment I opened my eyes. My body was crying out for food. I couldn't recall ever feeling weaker than I felt right then. What were those noises? There was definitely more than one vehicle, and they sounded much larger than a car or van. Lorries perhaps. There were other sounds too. Drilling and banging. Voices too. I could hear a number of male voices, but they were too far away for me to pick up any words. The lack of food was affecting my ability to think clearly, so it took me a while to figure out that it sounded like some kind of construction site. Road works maybe, but then I'd been sure there wasn't a road anywhere close by. Surely I'd have heard the traffic before now if there was. Maybe I could somehow attract their attention, but I'd have to do it before Layla or the young male arrived. How though?
If I could somehow break the window, I could shout for help. It was a long shot, but what did I have to lose? I looked around for something to throw. The only thing I had was the metal mug. It was heavy, and with enough force, it might smash the window provided the glass wasn't reinforced. It was a long shot, and I'd only have the one chance. If I missed, it would most likely land on the floor beyond my reach. Even if I hit it there was no guarantee it would break. I might have been more confident if I hadn't felt so weak. My aim had to be true.
The key turned in the lock, and the young male walked in just as I'd been about to launch the mug.
“What are you doing?” He eyed me suspiciously
“Exercises,” I said, as I put the mug on the draining board.
“I've brought food.” He held up the basket. “You have to eat.”
Before I could give the usual response, he continued, “Please.”
I was stunned by his tone and the word he'd spoken. It might have been my imagination, but he sounded genuinely concerned.
“I've already told Layla. I won't be eating again.”
“What will it take for you to eat?” he asked.
“The question threw me. I hadn't thought as far as this. What did I want? To go home, but that wasn't going to happen.
“What if we allow you to go outside?” he said. “Would you eat then?”
“What about this thing?” I held up my arm which had the shackle around the wrist.
“We'll remove that.”
This was more than I could have hoped for. If I could get out of the door unchained, I'd have every chance of making my escape. They would no doubt assign men to guard me, but I'd take my chances with them. Better to die trying to escape than to spend the rest of my life in here.
“So, will you eat now?” he asked.
“Why should I trust you? How do I know that once I've eaten you won't change your mind?”
“You have my word on it.”
I looked him in the eyes for the first time. They were a dark shade of orange. If Layla had made the very same offer, I'd have told her where to stuff it, but there was something about this young male—something that made me want to trust him.
“What's your name?” I asked.
“Marlow.”
“If I agree to eat, do you swear you will remove the chains, and allow me outside?”
“Yes. If you eat, you will be allowed outside tomorrow.”
“Without the chains?”
“Without the chains. I swear.”
I studied his face. He was being truthful. What choice did I have anyway? I had to put my trust in him.
“Okay.”
“Good.” He allowed himself only the briefest smile. It was the first time I'd seen any display of emotion from him. “I've brought you extra food,” he said, as he unpacked the basket.
“You were very sure of yourself.”
“Not really, but I did hope I could make you see sense.” He slid the tray over to me. “There you go.”
“You can join me if you like.” I held out the bread.
“No, thanks.” His fleeting smile again.
“One more thing.” I said. “I want you to be the one to let me out tomorrow.”
“I'm not sure if—”
“It's you or there's no deal.” I began to slide the tray back to him. “If she comes the deal is off.”
“Okay,” he said. “I'll make sure I'm here tomorrow, but now you must eat.”
I devoured the food quickly. After such a long period of going without food, I knew I should have taken my time, but hunger got the better of me. Only when I'd finished, did he leave. I could already feel the first twangs of a stomach ache.
The mug was still on the drainer. I could still try to smash the window, but it wasn't worth the risk. My chances of hitting it were slim. My chances of breaking it were even slimmer. Even if I managed it, there was no guarantee I'd be able to catch anyone's attention—particularly with so much noise being generated by the construction work.
I now had a pounding head to go alongside my stomach ache. My mouth was bone-dry too. As soon as I began to walk over to the sink, my head began to swim, and my legs turned to jelly. I knew I was about to pass out, and just managed to get back to the bed before everything went black.
Chapter 5
How long had I been out? When I woke, my stomach ache had gone, but my head ached like hell. It took me a few seconds to work out what had changed: the construction noise had stopped.
All I could hear was birdsong once again. The last thing I could remember was eating the food which Marlow had left for me. Why drug me now? It made no sense. I'd almost come to believe I could trust him—I wouldn't make that mistake again.
I swung my legs off the bed, and was about to stand, when I noticed that the chain was nowhere to be seen. The shackle had been removed from my arm. Where it had been, a red mark was still visible just above my wrist. I rushed over to the door, and turned the handle. It was no longer locked, so I slowly pulled the door open.
The smell was over-powering. I'd almost grown accustomed to the sweet, sickly odour which permeated the inside the cabin, but outside it was ten times stronger.
The mesh fence was over twelve-feet high. It circled the small wooden cabin which had been my home for the last few weeks. Facing the front of the cabin was a gate built into the fence. I realised now what the construction sounds had been. Beyond the fence was a clearing, and beyond that was dense woodland. Tyre tracks were visible along a narrow track which ran from the cabin to a gap in the tree line.
The Lost Years Page 2
