by Melissa Haag
I swallowed, took a sip of my Coke, and snapped my fingers before Mary’s eyes to get her attention.
“He didn’t do anything more for you than he would have done for himself. I’m not saying he isn’t sweet. I’m saying you’re labeling him sweet for doing ordinary things. Give him a real reason to be sweet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ask him to do something for you that your men normally wouldn’t do.”
She frowned and studied the table. I knew she was trying to think of something so I went back to eating.
“What would you ask for?” Mary asked after several minutes of silence.
I grinned at her. “You’ve slept in my bed. Which do you like better, floor or bed?”
She laughed.
“Bed.”
She stood and walked to the door. Gregory must have been close because he filled the frame within seconds. She motioned him in. I turned back toward my plate and pretended I couldn’t hear them.
“Hi, Gregory,” she said softly.
“You want a bed,” he said flatly.
I cringed. Just how well could they hear?
“Yep. I do. Charlene’s bed is clean and comfortable, but too small for the two of us. I won’t take hers. She needs it more than I do. But it sure is nice.”
There were several long moments of silence. I kept eating and stifled the urge to turn around.
“Fine,” he said finally. The door opened and closed again soon after.
Mary came back to the table and sat down with a grin. She didn’t seem at all put off by his less than accommodating attitude.
Before she could say anything, there was another knock on the door. She popped up again to answer it.
“Your father and Gregory are waiting for you outside.”
I turned at the sound of the voice. Him again. The dark-haired leader who made my stomach go crazy. He watched me, not Mary.
“Waiting? For what?”
“You said you wanted a bed. Gregory’s not foolish enough to pick one without you along. He knows how this game is played.”
Did his eyes just narrow slightly?
“Game?” I said, since he seemed to be talking to me.
“She won’t like the one he brings back, right?” he said with a hint of anger.
I shook my head slowly, unable to believe he was so clueless. Trying to do something nice for a girl was a game? I turned away. Maybe she wouldn’t like the one Gregory brought back, but that would be because of the quality of the item. After all, I had sent back the mattress that appeared gnawed on. Wait, did those men think I was playing games with them because I rejected some of what they’d brought? I mentally sighed at the thought.
“Charlene? Do you mind if I go?” Mary asked.
“Why are you asking her? Is she your leader?” he asked.
I couldn’t help it. I turned around to stare at him. Even Mary’s mouth hung open for a moment.
“I’m asking because Wini wanted to be sure she’s okay staying here alone.” Mary sounded like she was ready to smack him.
“She won’t be alone. I’ll stay with her.”
Mary and I shared a look. Alone would be better. But I didn’t say that.
“I’ll be fine.” At least, I hoped I would be. Winifred was right outside the door; and, apparently, they could hear everything. “Thanks for your concern, Mary. And have fun.”
She gave me a last apologetic glance then left. The guy closed the door, and I turned back to my plate. When he suddenly spoke from behind me, I barely refrained from jumping.
“I’m Thomas.”
Good for you. Now, buzz off. “Hello,” I said, instead.
I took a bite of potato. A full mouth couldn’t speak rude things. Though my parents taught me to respect everyone, I was having a hard time with him. His complete and obvious resolve to be rid of me probably had something to do with it.
He sat across from me and watched me eat. My stomach did a weird flip again, which I ignored. I kept my eyes on my plate and not his naked chest.
Though he was pale, he wasn’t sickly. I couldn’t recall seeing many men without their shirts, but he seemed unusually muscled. Several defined cords decorated his shoulders and his crossed forearms. I totally wanted to stare.
Several minutes of silence passed. When I finished eating, I threw the slightly charred potato skin in the flames along with the bones then went to the sink to wash.
He didn’t move, but I felt his eyes on me. I pumped enough water into the tin washbowl to wash my hands and face and plate. When I set the plate aside to dry, he stood.
“Winifred said you’ve made some changes. Show me.”
I turned and studied him. He looked mildly annoyed, and I couldn’t decide if his tone was a command or a question.
He watched me in return, his arms once again crossing his chest. He didn’t seem like he would accept a polite refusal. Hoping that he’d leave once he got what he wanted, I agreed.
“Of course,” I said moving away from the pump.
I snagged the lantern from the table and led him out of the main room and toward the first of the small rooms that lined that hall. I pushed open the door and stepped aside so he could see in. He stopped beside me but did not enter. I studied the space as I spoke.
“We’ve gone through the windows, collected the whole panes of glass to create several solid windows, and removed broken glass and debris from the rooms. I plan to board up the windows still missing glass.” I turned to see what he thought and found him watching me. “If I stay,” I added.
His face betrayed nothing regarding how he felt about me staying.
“Which rooms have the whole windows?” he asked.
“The main room and several on the second floor. It will be easier to board up windows on the main floor.”
“Show me.”
We stood facing each other, he impatiently waiting for me to lead and me hesitating.
Take him upstairs? I brought my fingers up to my collarbone, as close to touching the bites as I dared, to remind myself I wasn’t with people who knew how to behave politely. Going upstairs with him didn’t feel like a good idea.
“Have you lost your way already?” he said with a smirk.
Irritation melted my budding worry. What an annoying man. I turned around and led him up the closest flight of stairs. Along the way, I started motioning to the rooms Mary and I had finished. Those doors stood open. Doors without windows remained closed. He barely spared each a glance.
When I stopped at the last one, my room, he looked down at me. Unlike the other repaired rooms, the door was closed. He waited expectantly.
“Does your room have a repaired window?”
“Yes.” I didn’t move to open the door, though. I could just imagine how he’d react to a bed and dresser.
“Show me.”
I briefly narrowed my eyes at him, reached out, and opened the room I shared with Mary. Was he just looking for signs I’d settled in so he could complain? I stepped inside. He followed me, moving further into the room. He took a deep breath as he studied everything. He looked at the bed longest.
His expression changed slightly. Some of the arrogance left.
“Are you comfortable at night?” he asked quietly. He turned toward me, letting his arms once again fall loosely to his sides.
I didn’t like the sudden change.
Seven
Thomas’ gaze held mine in the lamplight, and I realized the purpose behind this tour and why he still stood there. He didn’t care about the bed or the dresser or the changes I’d made.
“You want to bite me, too, don’t you?”
He didn't flinch in guilt or look away as a spark of need lit in his eyes.
“Yes.”
His softly spoken word made me shiver.
“Biting hurts, you know. A lot. So, I’ll pass.” I turned and started to walk away from him.
“I saw you, and I couldn’t breathe.” His quiet admission slowed
my steps. “The world and all of the responsibilities it’s given me fell away. There was only you, and I wanted nothing else.”
I stopped walking but didn’t turn. “And now?”
“Now...”
I looked over my shoulder and caught him running a hand through his hair. His gaze was on the floor, and he frowned.
“Responsibilities never go away. My people depend on me. I want you. But I can’t walk away from my responsibilities to chase you.”
“Chase me? I don’t want to be chased.” I’d been chased twice already and had hated it.
“Then give me your permission to Claim you.”
I snorted. He’d almost been sweet for a minute there. But I doubted any of his kind really knew what it meant to be sweet. It just didn’t seem to be in their nature. They were too wild, too disconnected with their human sides.
“You don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be human,” I said.
“What does that have to do with Claiming you?”
“I’m human,” I said in exasperation. “Just what are you going to do with me when you Claim me?” I ignored the glint that flared in his eyes and pressed my point. “Do you think I’d survive a winter in these woods? Are you ready to live in this place permanently? How will you feed me? I’ve noticed your kind doesn’t seem to think vegetables are a requirement in their daily menu. For me, they are. I can get sick from lack of the right foods, from exposure, from...well, a lot. And I don’t heal like you.” I tilted my head so he could see the bite marks still there.
“You need to learn what it means to be human before you can care for one.” I didn’t just mean physically, either.
He stood there for several breaths just watching me, frustration plain on his face. When he spoke, there was a hint of it in his voice, too.
“While you’re in here hiding, they’re out there fighting. This needs to end. I know you’re the right one.” He eyed me for a moment as if he expected some reaction to that statement. I gave none, and he let out a half-growl. “With your permission, we could end this chaos.”
I didn’t like the way he said permission, as if he thought it completely unreasonable that I had a say in my own future.
“What if you bite me, and it doesn’t work again?” I said.
“It will work.”
“I understand you’re certain, but I’m not. What if it doesn’t work?”
“I’m certain enough for both of us. I smell you, and I know.”
I snorted again. I could see it becoming a habit with him around.
“The other two that bit me thought they knew, too. So, since you’re not inclined to think ahead and plan for more than one possibility, allow me. If you bite me and it doesn’t work, those men out there will become more aggressive. They won’t content themselves with just meeting me because they’ll know I’ve given my permission to someone, and each one will want his chance at a little nip. The fighting will escalate. And—here’s the important part—I’ll have another wound to try to keep clean.
“My answer remains a very firm no. If you don’t like it, tell me to leave. I’m not sure this is the right place for me, anyway.”
A collective howl rose outside my window. I realized too late that I’d grown a bit loud.
Thomas studied me, his expression once again closed. Then, he turned and left.
I sat on the bed. I wasn’t ready to return to the main room, just in case he hadn’t actually left. So I stared at the dresser that now served as shelves for the few clothes Mary and I owned. As I stared at the items, I realized that without a source of heat I would freeze in this bedroom when winter arrived. I’d need to move my bed back into the main room near the fire. Picturing the big and drafty room, I knew I’d need better clothes regardless. How many weeks did I have left before the weather started to turn cold?
When I estimated enough time had passed, I went back downstairs. The main room was empty and the fire almost out. I set the lantern on the table, put another piece of wood on the small flames, and moved to inspect the paper bags.
Winifred was smart about the supplies. There were cans of vegetables, fruit, and tuna fish and bags of pasta, rice, and dried beans. Enough for a variety of meals. Flat sheets filled the last bag along with three spools of thread and four needles.
“I scoured rummage sales,” Winifred said, making me jump.
I turned and saw her closing the door.
“Mary told me you were fixing the windows. I thought you might want curtains. Especially, for this one.”
“Thank you.” I fingered the fabric of the top sheet. It was plain white, well used and soft. “I might be able to find other ways to use these, too.” Like for more bandages. I might need them soon.
“I thought you might,” she said, and for a moment, it seemed as if she was answering my last thought. “How are you doing?”
“Just fine,” I said as she walked toward me. “This won’t stop, will it?”
She shook her head.
“I never meant to cause any of you trouble. I was just looking for a place to sleep.”
She patted my hand. “Despite how it looks, we are glad you found us.”
“We?” I laughed. “I don’t think everyone’s happy.”
“Don’t worry. Those who aren’t will come around.” She sat across from me and picked up a cookie from the plate. Only six remained. But I still had some squeeze cheese and bread and jam left. I was pretty sure Mary and Gregory had sampled everything while I napped.
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow night. But I’ll return Friday evening again.”
That meant today was Saturday since she’d arrived late last night. The idea of spending another tense week here bothered me. I frowned and reached for another cookie.
“Don’t give up on us,” she said, watching me. “We’re rough around the edges, but we can learn.”
I nodded, took a bite, and sighed. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give up on them. Those men wouldn’t let me leave, and I had nowhere else to go. We sat together in silence. Once I finished the cookie, I quietly excused myself and went to bed.
In my room, I listened to the muffled night sounds until my lids grew heavy.
* * * *
As soon as I opened my eyes, I knew something was different. I was staring at a wall—a close up view. Since my bed had been in the middle of the room, the view didn’t make sense.
I lifted my head and looked around. My bed was now against the right interior wall. Against the other wall, Mary lay in a bed similar to mine. She was awake and grinning at me.
“I don’t have your morals about stealing,” she said as I eyed the clean sheets and nice blanket. “And if you would have seen what was crawling around in that junk yard, you wouldn’t either.”
Sitting up, I didn’t say anything about the stealing. I was happy she had a bed, but I wondered who was now sleeping on the floor because of it. Come to think of it, how could they steal a bed at night? I hoped it hadn’t been in use at the time.
“While you were gone, I looked through the extra bags Winifred brought. We can make curtains,” I said.
Mary shrugged, and I guessed having curtains made little difference to her.
“Or maybe a plain sundress for each of us.”
“That might be nice,” she said with a small smile.
“How was your time with Gregory?” I asked.
She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “He was angry at first. Like Thomas said, Gregory thought I was playing a game with him. But when he saw what was in the junk yard, he was the one that suggested going somewhere else.” She opened her eyes and looked at me. “He really is sweet.”
“Good. It gives me hope that it’s possible for others to be sweet.”
She sat up with a stretch. “Winifred says they’re already lining up. She’s wondering if you’re up for meeting some more today.” Mary got out of her bed and began to remake it neatly.
I wanted to
groan and hide under my covers at the thought of going through yesterday all over again. But I didn’t. The sooner I met them, officially, the sooner they might leave me alone.
“Sure,” I said, sitting up. “I just need a few minutes and something to eat.”
She nodded. “I’ll see if anything is cooking. Meet you downstairs.”
She left me in the room; and though I was tempted to take my time, I slipped from the bed. Like Mary, I neatly remade it. Then I stripped from the clothes I’d slept in. They weren’t pajamas, but it kept the bed clean if I slept in a clean set of clothes. I set them on the top shelf in the dresser and looked at what was left. One clean pair of pants. I’d need to do some laundry or start rewearing things from the small pile of dirty clothes beside the dresser.
I reached for the pants and tugged them on. As I did up the button, my door creaked open. I turned, expecting to see Mary.
A man stood in the doorway. He was shaggy, a little dirty, unfamiliar, and staring at me as I stood there in my bra. My eyes bugged, and I quickly folded my arms across my chest. I opened my mouth to tell him to leave but didn’t get anything out.
He moved in a blur, knocking me backward. My breath whooshed out of me as I landed on my bed. He fell with me, pinning my crossed arms between us.
Before I could register what was happening, he reached up, fisted his hand in my hair, and pulled my head to the side. The move exposed my neck. Fear gripped me. A desperate cry ripped from me, and I bucked under him. He darted forward, his mouth opened.
“No!” I wailed as his teeth pierced me. Distantly, I wondered what had happened to Winifred’s promise.
He bit hard. It was as if he thought his Claim would have a better chance of sticking the deeper his teeth sank. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I did the only thing I had left.
Instead of trying to grab his will, my will surged from me, a thick unyielding cane comprised of a single thought: Get off me. I hit him right between the eyes with it. To my shock and pain, he flew backward, his teeth ripping from my skin. I gasped and whimpered as he hit the dresser with a crash.
