by Meg Collett
“Look,” I said, wiping my bloody palms on my bare legs, “I don’t have time for this shit.”
I moved to walk past the guys, but Luke grabbed my arm, his entire hand wrapping around my forearm. I’ve had a very strict “no touch” rule since I was ten and put into foster care. I reacted on pure instinct. My hand shot up, the heel of my palm smashing into his eye socket. I could only imagine the pain he was in. Literally.
The punch did a little to alleviate the heady need for violence pulsing in my blood. If they didn’t let me go soon, I would kill them.
Luke staggered back, bent over at the waist, and howling in pain while he clutched the side of his face. “Hatter,” he managed to choke out.
I turned my attention to Hatter, who took his sweet time pulling out a little plastic gun from the back of his rugged black pants. I pointed my finger at him. “Don’t do it,” I warned and then paused, cocking my head to the side. “Is that a water gun?”
“Kentucky fried chicken!” He sing-songed the words as he pulled the trigger. Two wires shot out of the end and straight at my chest.
Prongs tore my uniform and blasted into the skin right beneath my collarbones. With a frown, I glanced back up at Luke and Hatter. Their mouths fell open in shock at my lack of response. But something spread through my body like a great humming or a bone-jarring vibration. My body flashed warm then cold, another warning sign. I crumpled to the ground, confused as to why my body twitched and flailed about. The back of my jaw locked tight, and my eyes fluttered into the back of my head. I could’ve been adrift on the sea of pain for hours or seconds while I peered down into the murky depths, wondering what was wrong with me.
Strong arms lifted me into the air, and Luke’s caramel breath swirled across my face. The night’s breeze tickled along my legs, fluttering the hem of my skirt. I groaned. Not because I hurt, but because my body refused to move. It betrayed me. The pain remained as foreign as it always was. Yet, I was too numb to move.
“Ugh,” I moaned, my throat refusing to form actual words.
Luke carried me a ways down the street, my head jostling against his chest, and we turned a corner into a narrow alley, where a discreet black van was parked. I wanted to threaten them, to lash out and shred Luke’s face with my nails, to fight back, but I only managed a sick little whimper that sent a surge of self-hatred through me. As Hatter went ahead of us to open the van’s back door, Luke squeezed me tighter to his chest, murmuring something I couldn’t make out through the fog that had descended around me.
When we were at the back, Luke carefully laid my body out on a cold metal floor, like he didn’t want to bang up my elbows, which was nice of him considering if I hadn’t been paralyzed I would’ve ripped his nuts off. He turned away from me and disappeared. The breeze coming through the open door ruffled my hair. A long, silent moment later, he and Hatter came back into view with the dog’s body lifted between them, arm muscles straining against their dark thermal shirts.
I wanted to tell them they better not dare to put that thing in here with me, but I’d lost my voice. They tossed the dog in next to me, and its broken neck flopped over in my direction. Open eyes, cloudy and vacant, stared right at me, but my head refused to turn away.
I was paralyzed on the floor of some van with a dead dog-thing beside me. This was bad. This was really, really, really bad.
The van’s front doors opened with a squawk of worn metal and the guys climbed in, the engine rumbling to a start a moment later. They tossed their vests and throat guards into the back with me, and someone rummaged through the console by my feet. No one spared a glance back at me. They hadn’t tied my wrists, so they must be fairly certain I’d still be out of it when we arrived at our destination. I shivered, feeling a lick of fear crawl up my spine. What would happen to me when I got there?
“We have a situation,” Luke said from the direction of the driver’s seat. By the lack of Hatter’s response, I realized Luke must be on the phone with someone. “A civvie killed one.”
Muffled, hurried words sounded from the other person on the phone, but they were obviously talking about me. I strained my body until my neck finally moved, and the front of the van came into view.
Luke interrupted, his voice clipped, giving me the distinct impression he didn’t care for the person on the other end of the line. “I don’t know how she did it, but does it matter? We don’t bring in civvies.” The voice on the other end raised to a static-filled yell. “Well, I think we should let her go. There’s no point—”
Luke paused for a long time, listening to the other person and occasionally answering with a clipped yes or no. He glanced back at me, his expression unreadable as his green eyes searched over me, as if my life’s secrets were written across my exposed skin. If anyone else would have looked at me like that I would have gagged, but I stared back at him, unblinking and unyielding. He turned away first.
“Have the plane ready for us then,” he growled before disconnecting the call. He shoved the van into drive and steered it back onto the street, the wheels bouncing over a curb.
“Wh—” My throat closed up. It took a couple tries before I spoke again. “Where are we going?”
Hatter looked over his shoulder, his wild eyes dancing with delight. He looked crazy. I shivered. “You killed a ’swang, hot legs! You get special attention, now.”
“Wh-what?”
“It’s not every day a civvie kills a ’swang. Especially at night. We gotta know who you are. We could use you on our side.”
“Shut up, Hatter.” Luke examined his slightly swollen eye in the rear-view mirror as he drove down the quiet street.
“Come on, Luke. You know we could use her too. She took it down with just her hands! Could you imagine what she could do with a sting whip?”
“What’s a sting whip?” I asked, trying to keep up, but it was like they were talking in another language.
“No civvies.” Luke’s fingers tapped a mad jig against the steering wheel, tension simmering off of him like hot pavement in summer.
“Civvie or not,” Hatter said, “Dean said to bring her in, right? So we bring her in.”
“Please,” I begged, my voice rasping. Both men up front stilled. Luke glanced into the rear-view mirror, eyes hard and unrelenting in the face of my fear. And I was definitely afraid. I had the sinking feeling that my greatest fear wasn’t as far away as I’d thought he was. “Please, where are we going? Did Max send you?”
“Who’s Max?” Luke asked.
But Hatter grinned, his smile slashing across his scarred face like an exclamation point. “You took down a ’swang, and you’re worried about us?” He laughed, like belly laughed, for a long moment. “Nah. You don’t have to worry about us. We’re taking you to Fear University.”
T W O
I’d never been tased before, and I never wanted to be again. The powerlessness was awful. I’d felt this way once before, and I killed a man because of it.
The van moved fast, likely far away from the street where the dog thing attacked me. There were no windows in the back to orient myself to what direction we were heading. But I knew the destination.
Fear University.
At the name, a chill crept down my spine. A shiver swept up my throat.
“If you don’t know Max then who are you and why are you taking me to a university?” I asked to keep myself from panicking. I tried wiggling my fingers to work out the numbness.
“Stop with the questions,” Luke snapped. “How many volts did you hit her with? Why isn’t she out cold?”
Hatter looked down at the device in his hand. “Uh, like all of them?” He twisted around in his seat and leveled his two-toned gaze at me. “Hey, why aren’t you out cold?”
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“She doesn’t know,” Hatter told Luke.
“I can hear her fine. Check her hands.”
“For what? A wedding ring? You’re too old for her, bro. On the other hand, I’m just rig
ht.” Hatter turned to look back at me. I cocked a brow and glared back. “Show me your ring finger, goodlookin’!”
“Screw you.”
“I think she likes me.”
“Hatter,” Luke growled, the sound sending a hum through me completely unlike getting electrocuted by the stun gun, “check her palms. She’s bleeding.”
“Oh, right. Lemme looky look . . .” Hatter leaned back over the console, his torso stretching toward me. Grabbing my ankle, he hauled me closer to the front of the van and, with a grunt, pulled me upright to prop me against the console. Up this close and personal, I had an eyeful of dirty red hair, monstrous black scars, and dazzling white teeth grinning manically at me. Once I sat in position, letting him believe I was still completely numb, he examined my hand and probed the injuries, checking my face every now and then to see my reaction. Curiously enough, he leaned in close and took a sniff. Like he’d stuck his face in sweaty underwear, he reared back, eyes wide and flashing.
“Holy cock monkeys! She’s been bitten!”
Instantly, the van jerked to the side of the road, banging me around in the back like a ragdoll. I gritted my teeth, not because it hurt, but because it was annoying. These assholes were crazy. But if the van stopped, I might be able to escape.
“Let me see,” Luke said, replacing Hatter between the front seats. His wide, muscular chest didn’t fit as well, and he had to shoulder himself through.
He grabbed my hands and jerked them closer, his big hands wrapping around my wrists. Heat from his touch flooded through me and made me slightly dizzy. My stomach fluttered like I was on a first date or some shit. He smelled like caramel and cottonwood trees, a scent I told myself I hated.
He stabbed his finger into one of the bite marks on my palm and brought the finger to his mouth, tasting my blood with his tongue.
“Ugh!” I shouted, beyond disgusted, and tried to jerk away from him. “You’re insane!”
Luke released me and sat back in his seat. “You’re right. She’s been bit,” he said to Hatter.
Hatter didn’t act like Luke’s little snack was suspicious, which worried me more. I studied the two of them, thinking how they kept going on about how I was bitten and what my blood tasted like. Motherfucker, I thought, I’m in some Twilight shit. “Are you two vampires or something? Am I turning into one since that dog thing bit me?”
Hatter snorted with laughter. “There’s no such thing as vampires—”
“Werewolves?”
“Oh, girl,” he said, rolling his eyes to the roof of the van, “I wish we were dealing with werewolves. Sadly, they don’t exist either.”
But apparently there were dogs that ticked like a clock and spoke inside your head. I decided to keep that last part to myself. “Then what was that thing?”
“Why aren’t you unconscious?” Luke asked. Not bothering to hide his frustration with my questions, his voice contained a dangerous edge. I knew violence well enough to recognize it when I heard it. I screwed my mouth shut and waited.
When you tell people you can’t feel pain, sometimes they like to test the theory. I’ve had a few foster parents and siblings try that one out. Obviously their tests never hurt, but some things cut more than the physical stuff.
I waited too long. Luke snapped. He surged through the gap between the front seats and grabbed my throat. “You’ve been bitten,” he hissed into my ear. “Why aren’t you writhing in pain? Hell, with those bites, you should be out cold.”
The air coming up my windpipe wheezed and sputtered, my lungs instantly constricting from the lack of oxygen. I tried to escape his hold, but Luke held me tight. “I can’t feel pain,” I managed to choke out the words.
Luke’s grip slackened. He released me but didn’t get out of my face. I shifted away slightly, not wanting him to touch me again. Over his hulking shoulder, Hatter craned his head to see me, his scars flashing almost silver in the moonlight. “What did she just say?”
“Don’t lie to me.” There was that soft voice again, practically a whisper but as threatening as if Luke pointed a gun at my head. Hatter eased back slightly. So did I. I’m not stupid.
“I’m serious. It’s a medical condition that affects how parts of my brain process pain stimuli. I’ve had it since birth.”
“So you can’t feel anything?” Hatter’s raised brows made his scars twist and contort.
I decided to tell the truth, at least for this. “I can feel temperature and normal sensations like everyone else. I just can’t feel pain.” I lifted my injured elbow. “When I get hurt I feel heat. That’s it.”
Luke’s face drew together into a dark scowl, and I didn’t know if he believed me or not. “How did you survive with that?”
“Not many people do survive with it, but I’m tougher than the normal person.”
“Clearly,” Luke muttered. I swelled with pride at the words, which was totally sick. I’d never needed anyone’s approval before.
“Dude,” Hatter said quietly. “If she’s telling the truth—”
“I am.”
“She’s a civvie.” Luke ground out the words between his teeth.
“What’s the big deal?” I asked, looking between the two of them. The numbness from the taser was dissipating. Soon, I would be able to check the back door to see if it was locked. After I got a little more information, that is. Call me curious.
“At least tell me, what was that thing I killed?”
Luke glanced at Hatter. They must have spent a lot of time together, I guessed, because they silently communicated with slight shrugs and tiny nods. Luke ended the conversation with raised brows and a relenting sigh. I’d won. I fought the urge to cheer.
Hatter was the one to explain, while Luke went back to the task of driving, easing the van back into drive and continuing down the road. “That monster was an aswang but—”
“A what?” My brain caught over the foreign sounding word. I’d never heard it before, but it felt familiar, like I knew its twists and angles would roll easily off my tongue, as if I’d spoken it a million times. The word was black smoke, lithe and twisty, dark but thrilling nevertheless. Us-wung. My heart contracted a little each time I said it in my head. Us-wung. I kept repeating it to myself just because I liked the way it made me feel. Us-wung.
“Aswang,” Hatter repeated, “but we call them ’swangs.”
“’Swangs,” I whispered. ’Swungs—the word tasted delicious, like crispy, warm creme brulee.
Hatter continued, ignoring me. “They mess with your head and make you think you’re feeling pain then they eat the fear out of your body. But you’re a little . . .” Hatter swirled his finger around his ear, like I was the crazy one in this situation. “So you didn’t feel the pain, which probably confused the hell out of that ’swang. We,” he motioned to him and Luke, who eased the van back out onto the road, “are ’swang hunters.”
“Right.” I drew the word out as I recalled the way my reflection had been inverted in the dog’s eyes and how something so human had been staring through its eyes. Did I believe these guys? Probably not, even if they used beautifully terrifying words. Did I believe they could be crazy and that they had my figurative balls in their hands while they were taking me who-knows-where? Yes. Yes, I did.
“How do they make you think you’re feeling pain?” When I got no answer, I tried again. “What is Fear University? Who were you talking to on the phone?”
“You’ll have to get the rest of your answers from Dean,” Luke said, turning down a bumpy road that made the van’s suspension creak and groan.
“Who’s Dean? That’s who you were talking to? Why does he want you to bring me in?”
No one answered. Luke’s conversation on the phone had ended with him telling the person to have the plane ready. Kodiak wasn’t a big city, and we would be to the airport soon enough. From the front, Hatter bopped his head to nonexistent music, and Luke was doing a very good job of pretending I didn’t exist.
Clearly, I wasn’
t getting any more information. Honestly, I didn’t really want more anyway. I cut my eyes toward the dead aswang next to me and bit my lip. I needed to get out of this van. Hopefully we were going slow enough that I wouldn’t break anything when I jumped out.
Taking a deep breath, I flung myself backward, sliding across the exposed metal of the van’s floor. I banged into the back door with a loud metal clatter. Not looking to see what was happening up front, I grabbed the handle and gave a hard tug, prepared to fling myself out the door and roll to cover.
Nothing. The handle wouldn’t budge.
“It’s locked,” Hatter said casually.
I glared at them. They hadn’t even turned around. “We have to stop sometime. You know I’ll get away then.”
“We’re here. Now’s your chance,” Luke said dryly. I hoped that wasn’t his attempt at a joke. He put the van in park and turned off the engine.
Hatter shot Luke a wild grin and smacked him on the shoulder before opening his door. “Try not to scream like a little girl when we take off this time, okay? It’s distracting.”
They both got out and walked to my door. Outside, they took good-humored shots at each other. I heard a sound that might have been Luke’s laugh. My stomach tightened as the door slid open.
Behind them was a small airplane hangar. A little bush plane sat idling on the runway.
With a quick jerk, the guys pulled the ’swang out and let it hit the ground beside the van before Hatter started packing their gear with quick efficiency, suggesting they’d done this a hundred times or more. Luke climbed into the van and crouched beside me, ducking his head against the roof because he was so tall, his hulking frame casting a large shadow over me. He rummaged around in a box behind the driver’s seat and pulled out a large syringe. I watched closely as he removed the cap with his teeth and spit it on the ground beside my feet.
“What the hell is that?”
“A sedative. You can’t know where we’re going.”
