by T. S. Ryder
A strangled, half-sobbed laugh answered him. “That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? You don’t really know who I am. You don’t know what I did in my past. I don’t know myself. So how can you honestly say that I’m not that kind of person?”
Everett stepped forward and Kristen swung Elena down between them. Tears ran down the five-year-old’s face and she looked too frightened to make a sound.
“Don’t follow me. Or she’ll pay the consequences.”
“No,” Marguerite whimpered. “Don’t.”
Elena whimpered, tearing at his heart. He forced himself to take a step back. “Be a brave girl. You’ll be home soon, I promise. I promise.”
Kristen began to drag her to the door.
“I’ll never forgive you for this,” he spat at her. He had never realized that a person could feel so much hate, but he did hate her at that moment. He hated her more than he’d ever hated anything. “Never.”
Kristen laughed again. “I don’t care. All I want is my revenge.”
And then they were gone.
Chapter Eleven – Marguerite
Her head spun as she stumbled to her feet. Blood poured down her face from what was most likely a broken nose, making her choke as she struggled to readjust her breathing. Even still, she stumbled after them. Her heart was in her throat as she tried to call out for Elena.
Everett’s arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against him. For a brief moment, she was tempted to let herself sink back into his warmth and strength, to cling to the belief that he was there and he’d be able to figure this out. But a wall of rage formed around her heart and she pulled away from him at once.
“Why did you let her go?”
“She won’t hurt Elena.”
Marguerite wanted to hit him, to have some way to release the fear and anger warring in her chest. “You could have stopped her. You should have stopped her. It’s your fault she took her, and whatever she does—”
The shocked, hurt look on his face made her stop at once. Tears came fast and hard, making her choke even more. She swayed on the spot and Everett put an arm around her. His gentleness made the guilt churn harder in her stomach and she just stood there, sobbing and bleeding. With a soft kiss to her forehead, Everett led her to the bathroom where he ran cold water onto a cloth and proceeded to clean her up.
Her face was swollen and tender, her nose about twice as large as it usually was by the time he was done. The blood flow had eased, but the tears still streamed down her face. She couldn’t believe that after the accusations she had thrown at him, he’d still be this gentle with her. He was a rarity among men, that was sure. Not just men – most of the women she knew wouldn’t do this, either.
“It’s my fault,” she whispered, the words like knives as they tore up her throat. “It’s my fault that she took Elena. If I had listened to you and let it go—"
“You were doing what you thought was best for all of us.” Everett shook his head, eyes shining with worry. “I should have told you about Kristen’s plans that night when I found you researching Bell. I should have—”
“You suffered a panic attack. That sort of thing stops you from remembering things. Besides . . . I did make it seem like I was going to stop.” She lowered her gaze in shame. “I know I screwed up, but don’t let anything happen to her. Please. Elena’s all I have . . . ”
She knew it was unfair to beg him to do something when he didn’t have any more control over the situation than she did. To put that pressure on him when he couldn’t control what Kristen was going to do was wrong. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself as she grabbed his hand and stared him in the eye.
“Please.”
“Kristen won’t hurt her.” There was a trace of doubt in his voice but he shook his head quickly and straightened his shoulders. “She won’t. I don’t know that she’s after, but she is not going to hurt Elena. I don’t think she was thinking clearly. We should get a call from her at any moment, telling us to come get her.”
Marguerite waited for half a beat, but just sitting around waiting for a call that might not come was more than she could take. Pressing a washcloth to her face to catch the blood that still dribbled down her chin, she rushed to her laptop.
“If I found information on you, there has to be something on Kristen as well.”
“We should go to a hospital to have you looked at.”
“We should also call the police and report a kidnapping,” Marguerite snapped at him. “But we can’t. We can’t bring any attention to you and Kristen. Shit! The noise we made . . . The police are going to be on their way. One of the neighbors will have called. Get your laptop. We’ll go to a hotel or something. I’ll copy the files to your computer so we can search for her at the same time.”
Everett closed his hand over her wrist as she shut the laptop and reached to unplug it. “And what if Kristen comes back?”
Marguerite hesitated. “We both have her number. We’ll call and leave a message that we’re leaving. Now get moving. We don’t want to have to deal with cops.”
***
Marguerite forced herself to send only one text message and one call to Kristen, telling her where they were going to try to avoid the police. Any more and she was certain that it would get lost in the deluge. She wanted to cry and scream and beg her to bring her daughter back to her, but in this case, she felt that approaching it calmly was the best chance of reaching Kristen.
That didn’t mean that as soon as the file transfer was complete she didn’t start scouring Bell’s notes for information on the other woman. She searched through all the profiles that indicated that a patient was female, and searched every face for similarities to Kristen.
“I don’t remember any of this.”
She jumped, so focused on her task that she had almost forgotten that Everett was with her. His face was pale as he stared at his own laptop.
“Don’t remember what?”
He turned so she could see the screen. He was looking at his own profile. Kristen bit down hard on her inner cheek to stop herself from telling him that he was wasting time and needed to concentrate on finding Kristen. This was his past and he had a right to know it.
That didn’t mean that he needed to know it right away, though. Not when Elena was out there and Kristen . . .
“We’ll learn more about you,” she promised. “But right now — I found her.”
Everett closed his laptop and moved to her side. The picture of Kristen showed a woman thinner than she was now, but unlike Everett, she wasn’t withered and frail. She, too, had been diagnosed with ALS, but it was still in its early stages for her, not yet advanced enough to start the severe muscular atrophy. Marguerite scanned the profile. Age, name, weight. No notes about family or friends like Everett had. No explanation about who she was.
“She joined just before he was fired,” Everett mumbled.
“It doesn’t have anything useful.”
“Her name’s Crystal, not Kristen.” Everett sat back. His jaw clenched as he looked away. “Damn her.”
Marguerite rubbed her eyes and closed her laptop. She glanced at the time. Two-forty-five. Shock rippled through her. She hadn’t been aware of time passing. Now it was almost the time for the change. Her eyes filled with tears. Had Kristen taken them to a safe place? Was Elena terrified? Was she crying for her? Was Kristen threatening her? Hurting her?
“She was the only person I had for six years. The only friend, the only family. This is . . . Right now, I hate her so much. If she came back, I don’t know what I’d do.”
He bowed his head and Marguerite wrapped her arms around him. She couldn’t bring herself to talk him down or comfort him, though. Not when she was feeling like she wanted to hunt Kristen down and beat her to a bloody pulp for daring to take her daughter away. What if Elena ran away and Kristen didn’t follow? She’d be in her wolf form, wandering the streets, and then what?
“I would have told her where Bell was if she had
left Elena.” Marguerite pressed her face into Everett’s shoulder, then winced as her swollen nose twinged in protest. “I would have told her everything she wanted to know.”
Everett’s arms wrapped tightly around her. For a long moment, he just held her. Then, he pulled back and brushed his mouth gently over hers. “I know. And I am so sorry that you’ve been caught up in all of this. But I will find a way to get her back, okay? Maybe I don’t know who Crystal was, but I know who Kristen is. She isn’t going to hurt Elena. I know she isn’t.”
Tears started down her face anew. “How can you know that when she could have killed you with that frying pan? That blow should have shattered your skull.”
He managed a small, almost cocky smile. “Hey, I’m immortal, remember? Can’t get sick, heal fast as lightning. She wasn’t trying to kill me.”
“She could have.”
His big hands cupped her face and he kissed her again. “She didn’t. And she won’t hurt Elena.”
Marguerite nodded, trying to believe him. She leaned into his strength and let out a shuddering sigh. Her whole body felt too heavy, and she knew that the change was coming, but she didn’t care. It had been so long since she’d had someone to lean on. In fact, she wasn’t sure she ever had anybody that she could trust like this. Friends, yeah, but none that she could be utterly vulnerable with. The rush of emotions was overwhelming and she didn’t know how to handle it.
So she did the only thing she could. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.
Chapter Twelve – Everett
Early the next morning, only a little while after the change had ended, Everett got a call from Kristen. She sounded much calmer than she had when she kidnapped Elena and told them to meet her in a parking lot on the other side of town. Everett and Marguerite hurried into the car and headed over. Kristen was already waiting for them, standing beside an old beat-up car with Elena next to her.
The little girl looked frightened but no worse for wear. She tried to dart forward when they got out of the car, but Kristen pulled her back and whispered something that made her go still again.
Rage boiled in his blood. How dare she? How dare she take an innocent little girl and try to blackmail them with her safety? He started forward but stopped when he heard Marguerite cry out. As she started forward, Kristen tensed, so Everett grabbed Marguerite’s arm and pulled her back. They didn’t want to spook Kristen again.
He swallowed down his rage and nodded to her. “We’re here. Let us have Elena back and we can forget this ever happened.”
“And that’s why you look like you want to rip out my spine?” Kristen snorted, though her hands were trembling. “No. It’s not going to work like that. First, you’re going to tell me where to find Simon Bell. Then you can have her.”
Everett clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell her no deal and that if she didn’t give them their daughter back right now, she would regret it, but he held himself back. This was his sister. Despite everything, she was still the only person he’d had over the past six years. And he was still the only person she had.
“Let us have Elena and I’ll give you the address,” Marguerite said.
“No. You give me the address first.”
“He lives out east, in Pennsylvania,” Marguerite said. Her voice was defeated, her shoulders slumped as she pulled her phone out. “I’m texting you the address now.”
Kristen’s phone dinged and she pulled it out. She read the message while gripping Elena’s hand. Everett tried to catch his daughter’s eye to reassure her, but her gaze was locked on Marguerite. She, in turn, shook and trembled, face blanched except for the black bruise around her nose. Her hands clenched and unclenched.
“Calm down,” he whispered, taking her hand. “You’re frightening Elena.”
Marguerite gave him a panicked look but nodded. She sucked in a deep breath and stilled.
Kristen let go of Elena’s hand. “Go to your mother.”
The little girl didn’t need to be told twice. She raced across space between them, flinging herself into Marguerite’s arms. She started to sob, and the rage he’d been fighting down boiled again. He started forward, digging deep within himself to bring up the extra strength his beast gave him, but Kristen whipped a gun out from behind her back and pointed it at him with both hands. He froze.
“I don’t know if this will kill us,” she gasped out hoarsely. “I don’t want to find out on you, Everett. You’re the only one that’s kept me sane these past six years. But I remembered. I remembered everything and I can’t . . . I can’t keep going like this.”
Her gaze moved to Elena and a look of anguish crossed her face. Her hands trembled. Everett wasn’t sure if the bullet would hit him if she fired. It might miss. It might hit Elena or Marguerite. He fell back a step.
“Kristen, it doesn’t matter who you were, okay? Whatever you are remembering that’s making you go crazy . . . We’re all we have. Don’t do this.”
“No,” Kristen whispered. The gun lowered an inch. “We’re not. You have them. And after what I did, you can’t forgive me. I wouldn’t forgive me. And your . . . whatever she is to you—” She gestured towards Marguerite with the gun and Everett tensed, but it pointed back at him quickly enough. Marguerite rounded the car and crouched behind it, shielding Elena. “She’d have never forgiven me for sure. I know. Because I was a mom, too.”
Her file had said nothing about her having children.
“I had my baby at fourteen. Fourteen. My parents kicked me out, but I loved my little boy. He was my world, and I would have done anything for him. I did things that make me sick to remember, but I kept him safe and I kept him fed and warm and loved.”
Everett started to inch forward again. “Kristen, put down the gun. If anybody sees, they’ll call the cops and then—”
“You’re not listening.” Her voice broke. “Only five percent of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis cases are genetically linked. But both my boy and I were diagnosed at the same time. I wasn’t going to let him waste away like that, so I signed us up for Bell’s program. He promised that he could save us.”
A cold ball of dread sank in Everett’s stomach. Ninety percent of patients died after the treatment, whatever it was, was administered.
“The procedure went wrong, he said. I fought tooth and nail to get past him and see my son, and I will never forget what I found. A monster. His face, but his body was covered in hair and there were fangs in his mouth. He’d already dissected my boy for research purposes and I didn’t even get to bury him. Then the procedure took effect in me, and I became a monster.”
“You’re not a monster. Neither of us is.” Everett started forward again, his eyes locked on her face. “Listen to me. What happened was awful. I am so sorry that you lost him. But listen to me – he would have died anyway if you hadn’t done what you did. You’re not to blame for his death, and neither is Bell—”
Kristen snorted and shook her head. “If that was the truth, then why did he make us forget?”
Make them forget? The leaden ball in his stomach grew heavier. “It was the change that—”
“No. I remembered. The change didn’t make us forget anything – not any more than it makes us forget now. He cut into our brains and took out those memories. And then we were in the dark. There were others, but they were too afraid to leave when we clawed through the dirt and found our freedom.”
A tingling at the back of his mind made him shiver. He didn’t remember digging, but he remembered exiting the tunnel. Kristen by his side. Covered in dirt and terrified. “Do you remember when we stepped out into the moonlight? You said you couldn’t run, that you were too frightened. So I put you on my back and carried you. Kristen, we’re family. Don’t do this. Don’t leave me.”
A tear ran down her cheek. “I don’t think we’re immortal. I hope we’re not. Well . . . after Bell’s dead, we’ll find out.”
She slid into her car. Everett ran forward, b
ut before he could reach her, she had peeled out of the parking lot, running over the median to drive away. He watched her go, his heart feeling like ice. The rage was still there, but it was tamped down by the pain ripping through his chest.
“Evett?”
He turned to see Marguerite still holding Elena. His eyes burned as he raced back to them and pulled them both into his arms. Maybe Kristen was right . . . Maybe she was alone now, now that he had Marguerite and Elena. Now that he had more family.
But that didn’t mean that Kristen was any less his sister.
Elena put her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. The tightness in his chest worsened. How was he meant to apologize for letting this happen? How could he restore her trust in him when he had failed her so much? Tears started to leak from his eyes. It was Marguerite who set them back on track, hustling them into the car to go back to the hotel.
“Are you okay, baby?” she asked as she sat in the back seat with her daughter.
Everett glanced in the rearview mirror to see her nodding. “I wasn’t that scared. Kristen wasn’t mean. She let me watch cartoons and gave me a chocolate muffin.”
The tightness in his chest eased a little.
“She told me it was a game, but I don’t like that game. I don’t want to play it again.”
Marguerite kissed the top of her head. “We won’t, I promise. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Elena sighed and leaned against her mother. “I love you, Mommy.”
She was asleep by the time they got to the hotel. Marguerite sat on the bed with her, watching her sleep. Everett stayed back a bit, not knowing what he should do. Part of him wondered if they should contact Bell and warn him about Kristen was coming. Another part wondered if what Kristen had told him was true. Had Bell performed a lobotomy on the two of them to make them forget? Why would he do that? Research into curing ALS was a noble enough calling, even if he had taken it too extreme, why cut into their brains?
