by Ava Benton
She flinched, but only for an instant. Only out of surprise. She didn’t try to pull away.
I didn’t know what to say, or even if there was anything worth saying in that moment. It was only the two of us in the entire world. No, more like three of us. The dragon noted her pulse pounding away, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her.
And he would remind me time and again until my head ached with the memory. And there were so many years left in my life. Years for me to regret…
“What is it, Cash?” She wouldn’t look up. Her eyes were trained on the shackles, sitting on one of the small work tables. She still didn’t try to get away.
“If there’s anything I can do for you—anything, ever—I wish you would tell me. I know there has to be a reason why you wouldn’t share with me everything that’s happening. You don’t know me, I’m not part of your life. I understand that. But you have to understand that I can’t dismiss the pain I see you going through.”
“There’s no pain. I wish you would stop this.”
“If you wanted me to stop, you would pull your arm away.”
“It would be a waste of time to fight you off. You’re much bigger than I am.”
“A convenient excuse.”
“It’s the truth. Why would I waste my time trying to fight you?”
“Why won’t you look at me?”
She didn’t have a quick answer to that. And she couldn’t manage to raise her eyes to meet mine.
A feeling of dread started growing, like a seed suddenly bursting open and taking root.
“Who are you working for?”
She looked at me then. Her eyes were wide as her head snapped up. “What?” she hissed.
“You heard me. Who are you working for?”
She pulled her wrist from my grip—I barely noticed.
Slashes of red colored her cheeks. Her eyes sparkled for the first time in days, but this time it was with fury. “How dare you? You know who I’m doing this for.”
“Who’s that?”
“You,” she spat, using her forefinger to poke my chest. “Mary hired me to do this for you. And I resent you implying that there’s anything else in this for me.”
“I wasn’t implying.”
“What was it, then?”
“Accusing,” I snarled. “You’re guilty. Something’s making you feel this way. You won’t look at me.”
“Ha!” She glared up at me with her hands on her hips. “You think you’re the center of the universe, do you? Just because you’ve got muscles and cut-glass jaw, I’m supposed to stare and drool at you.”
I snorted. “Not what I was trying to say, but thanks for the compliment. You gave yourself away.”
“Oh, stuff it up your ass,” she muttered, turning away, going to her laptop. “I have work to do.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me, and it has to do with me. Stop denying it.”
“Yeah, there’s something I haven’t told you: you’re much more trouble than you’re worth, Cash.”
I couldn’t see her behind the monitor, but there was no missing the tremble in her voice.
12
Carissa
By the time my phone rang with a call from an unknown number, it had been a week since the last call. The longest week of my life.
My nerves were worn thin enough to see through. And my hand shook so badly when I went to answer, I almost dropped the damn thing on the floor.
“H-hello?” I whispered, looking at the closed door between Cash and me.
Could he hear through it? Unlikely—I could barely hear a low roar from whatever show he was watching on TV. It wasn’t soundproof, but it was pretty close.
“Aunt Cari.” That same robotic voice, chilling my blood.
“What took you so long to get back to me?” I hissed. “Where’s Tommy? What’s happening to him?”
“You’ll get the chance to speak with him before we end the call,” the voice on the other end promised.
“He can’t possibly be happy right now. He has to wonder where I am.” I could barely get the words out of my mouth, it hurt so bad to talk about him.
“You might be surprised how happy he is here. He’s a very easygoing boy.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and dug my nails into my palm to keep from screaming. “He’s all right, then?”
“He’s fine. What about our agreement?”
I leaned over and opened the fridge. “I have a half-full refrigerator of 10-milliliter tubes. I’ve taken six tubes a day for the past week.”
“Nice job. That’s a very good start.”
My stomach turned. “No. No, that has to be it. It’s been a week, damn it. I want him back.”
Silence. Had I pushed too hard? Panic soured in my stomach, and I was fairly sure I was about to throw up. What happened if I pissed them off and they decided not to work with me anymore? What would they do to him?
“I just want Tommy back. I need him back.”
“That’s a very nice story, Carissa, but I don’t recall asking you what you need.”
A single tear escaped before I could catch it. “How much more do you want?”
“How much more can you get?”
“Please, don’t play games with me,” I begged. It was a struggle to keep my voice at a whisper. I wanted so much to weep and plead and sob my heart out. As if that would help.
“Nobody’s playing games, Carissa. It’s best for you to understand that now. Do you understand it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I was being sincere. I want you to get all the blood you can. We need every drop you can get your hands on. We’ve stopped short of telling you to bring the shifter in so we can do it ourselves.”
“The blood will only stay fresh for so long,” I lied.
“You’re lying,” he crooned in that robotic voice. “You know as well as my friends and I do that his blood will stay fresh for a very long time. Do you have any idea how old he is? Has he told you?”
“No,” I admitted.
A chuckle. “You might want to ask. It will make for a very interesting conversation. Suffice it to say, you can store his blood for years and there wouldn’t be a moment’s age on it. So try again.”
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Who was I? Who was this whimpering, shivering little wimp? Oh, right. A woman at the end of her rope. Who felt as though she was being torn in half.
“What’s so difficult about what we’re asking you to do? You draw blood. You store it. You deliver it when the time comes.”
“And when does that time come?”
“Once you’re finished with the shifter, of course.”
Horror washed over me. “I don’t know how long that will take.”
“It would be in your best interest to work quickly, then, wouldn’t it? Of course, as far as we’re concerned, you can take as long as possible. Weeks, frankly. The more blood, the better.”
Weeks? No. Not going to happen.
“How would you even know if I’m finished with him?”
“Oh, we’ll know.”
“But how?”
“Are you trying to create a plan? Is that what this is? Getting as much information as possible so you can think up ways to trick us?”
“No. I’m only trying to—”
“Stop trying.” They weren’t toying with me anymore. That light, teasing tone of voice was history. “We’re watching you. We’ve been watching you for days. If you keep going to the lab, we know you’re still working with the shifter. It’s really very simple.”
Yes. Very simple. They had me trapped. “I can’t deliver the blood before then?”
“No. You cannot.”
They were following me. They would know if I was still reporting to the lab. They’d know if I never left my workstation, just like they would know if I never left the apartment.
“So I have no choice but to finish my work before I can get my nephew back.”
“You
really are a very intelligent woman. No wonder you do the work you do. It’s remarkable.”
“Let me talk to Tommy.” I was tired. So tired. Of everything. It was time to stop letting them lead me around like a puppet on a string.
“You think you’re calling the shots on this phone call?”
“As long as I have a fridge full of something you want, yes. I do. There’s no other way you’ll ever be able to get what you want without me. We both know that.”
Silence. My heart was firmly in my throat as I waited for them to reply. Who were they? I wished I could at least imagine a face, surroundings, something. The faceless, shapeless creature I imagined only added to my terror.
“Be careful what you ask him,” they finally replied.
I shook with relief. I had passed a test. They had admitted I was holding a few cards of my own. If I only had the guts to play them.
“I will,” I promised.
“If you say anything—anything at all—that we decide is even slightly leading…”
We. He kept saying “we.” Who was listening? Bad enough I had to speak to this person, but knowing there were others listening in as he broke me down was almost too to bear.
“I understand. Nothing is more important than hearing his voice right now.”
“So be it.” A sound. Muffled talking. His hand over the speaker? I kept imagining the person on the other end as male, even though the voice was so deeply disguised. I chewed my lip until it bled, held my breath until I felt lightheaded. What if he hated me? What if they fed him stories about me not wanting him? I couldn’t bear it. It would kill me.
“Aunt Cari?” So unsure of himself. Pain screamed through my chest.
“Hey, buddy. How are you? I miss you so much.”
“I miss you, too. When are you coming for me?”
“Just as soon as I can, sweetheart. I promise you that.”
“Why has it been so long? What are you doing?”
“Honey, we can talk about that later. Once we’re together again. I don’t think I’m allowed to talk with you about it right now. I’m so sorry, for all of this. I need you to believe that.”
“I do…” He didn’t sound as though he did.
“Thomas. Listen to me, all right?” Desperation leaked into my voice. “I need you to believe that I love you, and I want us to be together. And that I am doing everything I possibly can to make sure that happens. No matter what you hear, no matter what you think inside, you need to remember what I’m telling you. Don’t listen to those other voices that try to convince you I don’t want you with me. I do. Tell me you believe me.”
“I believe you.” He sounded stronger than before.
“And you know I’m doing everything I can to make sure we're together.”
“I believe you. You’re doing everything you can.”
“Good boy. Just think, we’ll be together again, and you’ll wear your Batman costume, and we’ll go trick-or-treating, and you can eat candy until you have a tummy ache.”
He giggled softly, and I giggled with him. Only mine was a bit more manic, tight, ready to shatter at any second. I was walking a thin wire and could fall in either direction. Closer to sanity, hearing his voice and knowing deep inside that he was all right, they weren’t hurting him—or over the edge, until I lost all trace of myself because there was only so much a person could handle without breaking.
There was a shuffling noise, and background voices and I babbled on in the hopes that he’d hear me before they took the phone away.
“I love you, Tommy. I love you so much. You’ve added so much to my life. You’re the best thing I have. I can’t wait to see you again, oh, please, I love you…” I held my head in my hands.
“So sweet, Aunt Cari.” A cold, heartless chuckle.
“Fuck you, you bastard.”
“Now, now. Get back to work. The sooner you’re finished, and we know you no longer have contact with our shifter friend, the sooner you get your little nephew back. And you can take him trick-or-treating. Won’t that be fun?”
“Wait, wait,” I begged before they could cut me off. “How do I get in touch with you? I’m making progress here, I truly am. I’m already running tests. It won’t take another week. I can’t wait that long for you to call me back.”
“Hmm. I’ll call you in two days for a status report. Keep the phone nearby.”
I suspected that was the best I could hope for as the line went dead.
Two days. Two days and I might get to hear Tommy’s voice again.
I held the phone to my mouth and wept brokenly, then dropped it to the table and buried my head in my arms.
13
Cash
My dragon was driving me crazy, insisting that I tell her how she should be mine. How things should be between us.
“She doesn’t want to hear that,” I whispered into the semi-dark.
The only thing illuminating my room was the light from the television. I was watching one of the old Die Hard movies, one of my favorite series. It got a little ridiculous toward the end, but the first few were great. In my opinion, at least.
I was hardly watching, however. Not that I needed to pay attention—I could practically recite the lines along with the actors. I was stretched out on the bed, arms folded behind my head, ruminating. A great pastime of mine, rumination. Sometimes there was nothing else to do. When all the books had been read, and the films watched until the thought of re-watching another of them made me want to scream, there was nothing left to do but think. Alone.
I was definitely alone. She was out there—she always let me know when she was leaving, even if it was close to midnight—but I might as well have been on the moon.
If only things hadn’t been so different on the first day. If she had walked into the lab a week earlier the cold, distant, distracted young chemist she had become, I wouldn’t have thought twice about her personal life. If that was who she was, so be it, to each their own. My instincts were sharp enough and my lifetime long enough to know when I was barking up the wrong tree.
Only that wasn’t who she was.
Something had happened. I couldn’t rest until I knew what it was. But gods, I had never known so stubborn a person. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, she was determined to keep her pain to herself. I wasn’t one to beg. I was more the type who threw things out of rage and frustration. And she was taking me there. How would she feel if I destroyed some of her precious equipment?
Who was she turning me into?
I flipped off the TV in disgust and tossed the control aside. It was then that I heard it. The soft sounds of crying.
I sat up, ears trained to the sound. It could only be coming from the lab. When I went to the closed door, the sound only grew louder.
She was crying. She would want me to leave her alone and let her cry in peace. She didn’t know me very well if she thought I would do anything like that.
I opened the door and stepped into the lab.
She sat with her back to me, slumped over the table, her laptop forgotten. She’d crossed her arms and rested her head on them. Her back and shoulder shook with the force of her brokenhearted sobs.
My dragon urged me forward. To tell her I’d help. That I’d protect her. Nothing in the world could’ve kept me away when I heard the pain and hopelessness pouring from her.
“Carissa.” I placed a hand on her back and almost recoiled at the feeling of her ribs, so prominent under the lab coat she always wore.
When had I last seen her eat? I glanced into the wastebasket beneath the table and saw nothing to indicate that she’d eaten all day. Only empty coffee cups. She was falling apart before my very eyes. It was time to stop being kind for the sake of protecting myself and the family, the project we were working on.
I pulled her up by her painfully thin shoulders and held her against my chest.
“I’m sorry!” she gasped, shaking from head to toe.
“It’s all right.” I he
ld her tight, hoping some of my strength would comfort her.
“I shouldn’t be doing this. I didn’t want to do this in front of you.”
“I don’t want to see it, but only because I don’t want to think of you ever going through this sort of pain. Oh, Carissa, don’t you see? I’ve only ever wanted to help you. Having you here, so close to me, and being unable to do anything to make things better for you…”
“But you can’t make it better! You can’t! Nobody can!” Her tears soaked through my shirt and dampened my skin. Hot tears, full of heartache and hopelessness.
“There, there.” I smoothed golden hair back from her forehead and almost withdrew my hand in surprise when I felt the sweat on her brow. Her skin was hot to the touch. “Carissa, you’re not well.”
“I have to work…
“No, no. You have to rest. Please, listen to me. You’re going to kill yourself if you don’t take a break.”
She wriggled, trying to push me away. “No, you don’t understand. I have to work. I have to… get him back…”
She slumped in my arms before the thought was finished. I held her up. Her head fell back against the crook of my elbow, eyes closed, lips slightly parted.
“Cari? Cari.” I tapped her cheeks with my fingertips.
They were chalk white. But she was breathing. Just exhausted and overcome. I ran my fingers over the curve of her jaw and marveled at the downy feel of her skin. My dragon wanted more than just a slight touch.
She’s unconscious, I rebuked him, pushing him far down in my subconscious as I lifted her from her stool and carried her to the bed.
In another life, in another situation, I would be carrying her to the bed would share. And we wouldn’t be sleeping. But here, now, I wanted only for her to get some rest. And in the morning, when my food was delivered, I’d share my breakfast with her. She needed to rest and get her strength back.
And we needed to get to the center of what was happening to her.
I eased the lab coat from her shoulders and let it slide off, hitting the floor by the bed. Gods, she was a skeleton. In just a week, she’d lost so much weight. Like fear and stress were eating away at her, compounding the fact that she was living on coffee.
