by Edith Hawkes
“Did you bring me anything to eat?” I asked, and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“Tell me where Tom is and I’ll get you whatever you want,” he countered.
Tempting offer, I thought. All the different treats that I’d missed due to living on a forsaken mountain that didn’t even have one lousy take-away place, entered my mind.
“What the hell did my dad do to piss you off?” I said.
Before he could answer the club doors opened again. Three gruff looking men, all sporting handsome beards and similar leather jackets to Damon’s, filed in one by one.
“Hey! Hey you! Help me! Let me out,” I screamed and rattled the bars of the cage.
They barely gave me a second glance, ignoring my pleas, as they sauntered past to stand behind Damon.
Great, more thugs. Well, it worth a try, I thought.
“Hurry up,” Damon scolded.
“Sorry, Boss. We got held up. Got what you need though.”
The tallest member hauled a black duffle bag onto the table in front of them and started removing the items.
Oh, holy fuckballs.
I tiptoed backwards, but there was nowhere to go, my back pressed up against the bars.
Laid on the table, like surgical tools, were implements I could only believe were to be used for torture. A cleaver, mallet, hacksaw… Oh, god, was that a melon-baller?
Damon kept his eyes pinned on me, watching my reaction. My throat was closing up and a surge of panic was threatening to take over my body. But I knew if I broke down now, that would be the end. I’d tell them everything.
“Ready to talk, yet?” Damon asked, his voice low.
Gritting my teeth I held on tight to the bars behind me, giving me a semblance of support.
“Fuck you.”
His eyes suddenly blazed a golden yellow.
“Get her out of there, and strap her to the table. We have work to do.”
I’m not ashamed to admit it but I screamed until my throat was raw as two of the men, Damon’s lackeys, tried to get my out of the cage. The other man was busy laying down a sheet of plastic, like a tablecloth as if he were prepping the table for Sunday dinner… with me as the main course.
Damon stood watching, motionless as I kicked, yelled and desperately hung on, wrapping my arms through the bars and holding on tight. One by one, my fingers were pried open and my grip weakened sending me flying to the ground as they pulled upon my waist and legs.
Scrambling away on my knees trying my best to bolt for the door but it was no use. Almost immediately hands claimed my thrashing body and hefted me and secured me upon the table, with thick nylon webbing straped across my chest and ankles.
I was in a little bit of a pickle, I admitted to myself as I tested my bonds. This wasn’t going at all as I’d planned. I breathed heavily and attempted to control my fear, knowing struggling was just going to wear me out and send me reeling into panic mode.
Keep it together, Jess, and use your anger! I told myself.
“All this because of a newspaper article? Were your widdle feelings hurt?” I said, forcing out a laugh. “You need to grow a thicker skin, Damon.”
Damon picked up his weapon of choice and moved closer to the table and leaned over my body so our eyes were locked upon each other. A glinting hollow ball on a stick hovered above my face. Slowly, Damon brought it closer, I winced as the cool steel touched my skin, the round edge of the melon-baller tracing up my cheek towards my eye.
“You have no idea do you? This isn’t about some worthless story by a hack writer, you stupid girl.”
“Then why the hell am I lying on this table looking at your ugly mug? I got places to be you know!” I replied.
“Your father is a wanted traitor. And it’s my job to bring him in. Now tell me where is he.”
My dad, a traitor? Never. Now I knew he was lying. He must be talking about someone else, I thought; got his wires crossed.
I shook my head, “Seriously, I think you have the wrong person.”
“Trust me, I don’t.”
“You’re about to torture me and you ask me to trust you? Are you out of your tiny little mind?” I spat.
He shrugged. “Figure of speech.” Damon placed the eye-gouger back upon the table by his side to my relief. His hand waved, fingers wiggling, over the other menacing utensils. “Eenie Meenie Miney, Mo!”
Damon clasped his right hand around the handle of a long thin blade, a fillet knife. Using his left, his fingers slid across my stomach, gathered up my shirt and pulled it away.
My chest hurtled up and down as I took in short panicky shallow breaths. I was about to be gutted like a fish.
“This is going to hurt,” he warned.
Eight
Jake
I should’ve called for backup. Got some of the Bear Oak clan members to come to the city, but it would’ve taken too long. And time was of the essence. God only knows what Damon, aka Whitefang, was doing to Jess. I didn’t want to think about it.
Be strong for me, Jess. I’m coming.
To be truthful I wasn’t really thinking anyway. I was too preoccupied with the raging hot blood that was pumping through my veins, threatening to turn me at any moment. If I stopped concentrating, within a matter of seconds I’d shift into the destructive bear trying to claw its way out.
Not yet, I warned. A rampaging bear around the city would not be conducive to my plan to find and rescue Jess.
“Keep the engine running,” I said to my driver as we pulled into a car park beside the nightclub.
Whitefang, the club, was a notorious shifter hangout, you’d find all and sundry in there over the weekend, but I’d bet my money you wouldn’t find one bear. Too much bad blood, and this little incident, if Damon did indeed have Jess, would only add to the brewing hostility that had been going for years… generations even.
I slipped off my jacket in preparation, no need for that to get shredded in case I turned, left it on the back seat, took a breath and got out of the car. The bright glare from the afternoon sun blinded me for a fraction of second. I blinked and remained silent as I listened.
I didn’t need to hear her muffled screams, I could smell her scent, her fear from here, through brick, steel and concrete. It was thick and desperate and wafted out of the club in waves.
Without another moment of hesitation I launched myself at a side entrance door. Bracing myself in case it was locked, but the impact my foot made drove it off its hinges.
Advancing rapidly I scanned the room, taking note of the three men coming out of the shadows, behind my main target: Damon Whitefang Forez.
My eyes flickered upon the table at Jess’ struggling body. A knife threatening to cut her.
I roared.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Damon demanded. His left hand rose and his men stopped moving.
“Put the knife down, Damon,” I growled.
His face twisted in confusion. “This has nothing to do with you, Bear,” he said, saying the last word as if it were a racial slur.
“Jake?” Jess whimpered.
“Quiet!” said Damon, his head tilting to the side a smile spreading upon his face. “You know her?”
“She’s mine. You have no business with her. Let her go,” I said and took a step closer.
“No way? You and her? You’re kidding right?” he scoffed.
I took another cautious step forward, watching the wavering knife in his hand. I presumed it had just been for show; to scare her, but I couldn’t be too careful. The room was already filled to the brim with tension. The thugs, some of his pack, behind Damon were itching to tear me apart. All it would take would be a simple hand signal from their leader.
Another step and Damon’s eyes flashed.
“That’s close enough,” he snarled, gripping the handle of the knife tighter.
“This doesn’t have to get ugly. Let her go and we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Ah, Jake. I would, of cours
e. But you know, I haven’t got what I need from her yet. It’s a simple business transaction, you want something I have, and I want something she has…”
“Then spit it out. What do you want?” I asked, the last straw of my patience slowly floating away.
“Tom. I presume you know who he is?” Damon paused, considering his own words. “And I’m willing to bet you, too, know where he is?”
Out the corner of my eye I saw Jess. Valiantly she was still trying to break free while Damon was distracted.
“Don’t you tell him!” cried Jess for the table.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut the hell up?” Damon yelled. His arm arced high and an open palm came down fast slapping Jess across the face. The impact echoed around the large room and shocked her into silence. “She’s a handful isn’t she?”
My rage levels spiked. How dare he touch what was mine! I charged him, feeling my muscles bulge and expand with each metre that passed beneath my feet and my clothing, shredded, fell by the wayside.
I slammed into him, the impact knocking the knife from his hands. As he clawed onto me Damon was suddenly shifting too, turning into his namesake: Whitefang. His yellow nails elongated and dug into my furry flesh as the rest of his bulk turned into thrashing and menacing werewolf intent on doing harm.
Damon’s snow-coloured fur glinted in the dim light, his transformation complete. Beyond, emerging from the shadows, coming to assist their leader were three more werewolves.
Four against one. I definitely should’ve called for backup.
Nine
Jess
Are you fucking kidding me? Wolves? They are shifters too? My thought process stammered to life, momentarily shocked, trying desperately hard to understand what my eyes were seeing.
What the hell was going on? Had I become a shifter magnet or something? Though, I had to admit, I was utterly relieved to see Jake. Somehow he’d found me, in the nick of time too.
From my limited position, Jake and Damon fought over by my side. Their changed bodies charging at each other, teeth gnashing, trying to do as much damage as possible.
Jake manoeuvred himself so he was between me and the table and the others. Protecting me. The table shook as Jake was forced back against it. He dug his heels in and drove forward, taking the fight away from me.
OK, Jess. Now’s your chance, you can’t leave everything to him.
By shear lucky coincidence, the knife that Damon had been holding had fallen into my lap and not onto the floor. Unfortunately it did me no good where it was, as it started to slip in-between my thighs.
The roars were deafening, it was as if I was watching the nature channel with the volume maxed out. God, there were four of them against Jake. I had no idea if he could hold them off on his own. He had the bulk, could probably crush their large bodies if he got the chance, but his swipes were slow in comparison to their fast nipping advances.
I had to help him. Concentrate and you will!
Clenching my thighs together, desperately holding on the knife - if it slipped down any further I’d be no use to anyone - I angled my hips skyward and slightly to the side hoping when I released my grip on the knife it would gently slide down my torso and fall into my waiting hand.
Please work, please fucking work!
I held my breath and parted my legs, gravity took over and the knife tumbled across my chest and bounced on the table, threatening to wobble out of my grasp. My hand snatched it before it plummeted over the side.
I sent up a silent prayer of thanks and got to work. Twisting my wrist I positioned the blade under the strap that lay tight across my torso. It would’ve gone a lot quicker had Damon chosen a hacksaw. But nonetheless, I was making good progress. I pushed my body off the table, stretching the bonds, helping along the tear I was making. Then with an audible snap my upper body was free. Now for the strap across my ankles.
Glancing over to the side towards the brawl, Jake swung his enormous paw, crashing it into the side muzzle of one wolf who yelped and flew across the room from the force of the direct hit.
One down, Honey-Bear, only three to go, I cheered.
Jake roared, spittle escaping his wide bear mouth as another wolf bit down, hard, upon his flank.
Frantically, I used the blade to saw through the bindings not caring if the blade grazed upon my exposed ankle, and finally I was free. Jumping from the table I collected the torturous implements, the hammer would be first.
Aim don’t fail me now.
Closing my right eye, I pulled back my throwing arm and launched the heavy hammer as hard as I could at the closest wolf. The wide metal part struck the back of its skull and he stumbled, dazed, and collapsed down upon the floor.
My eyes were wide and I jumped with joy. That was a lucky bloody shot! But in my celebration I failed to register the last werewolf peel off from his master and come leaping towards me.
I shrieked, running behind the table to put it in between me and the oncoming gnashing jaws of death.
“Jake!” I yelled, waving the knife I’d managed to hold onto in front of me as the wolf debated when to pounce, but Jake had his own furry menace to contend with.
My heart beat was off the charts and the adrenaline flooding my body demanded that I not cower away in fright.
“Come on then, Cujo,” I said through gritted teeth.
The wolf may have been small in comparison to Jake, but he was still more than twice my size. Yet, it was reluctant to get any closer.
“What are you waiting for? You dumb mutt, come get me!” I yelled attempting to encourage the snarling beast closer to my blade. But he wasn’t having any of it. Then it hit me. I was valuable! Or at least he couldn’t harm me because he didn’t have his master’s permission. The wolf not able to hurt me would give me an edge, I reasoned.
Cautiously I stepped from around the table, testing the limits of my new theory and it was either gonna end in victory or me becoming tasty dog meat.
I jabbed the point of the knife at the wolf, not to inflict pain or wound the creature but force him to retreat.
Good puppy, just a little farther.
I needed a couple more steps for my plan to work. Then when the moment was right, without warning I rushed the creature. His black eyes widened in panic as he stumbled into the open cage they’d put me in earlier.
Slamming the door shut I reached for the padlock and slapped it on. The wolf whined and I did a little victory dance. I was becoming quite competent when it came to supernatural creatures, I thought.
A sudden yelp and hefty thud from behind me made my heart go cold.
“Jake?”
His body lay collapsed in a heap across the dance floor and I sprinted to him.
A flash of white fur, streaked with blood, dashed away towards a back exit, stumbling occasionally into tables and bolted down stools. Damon looked badly hurt but my immediate concern was for Jake.
Blustery puffs of steaming hot air escaped from Jake’s muzzle and I smoothed my hand over his nose.
“Jake? You have to get up. Come on. I need you to do whatever you do to make yourself change back,” I pleaded. We couldn’t stay here, there’d be more of them in no time I knew. Damon was probably already calling in more of his merry fur-men.
Jake whimpered as his large head lifted up from the floor. He pushed upon his mighty paws that shook and trembled under his weight.
“That’s it, you can do it. We have to get out of here. Get up. Do it for me,” I said and looked into his big sweet caramel eyes.
The wolf I’d temporarily knocked unconscious with my spectacular hammer throw stirred.
“I know you know what I’m saying, Jake!” I shouted, “Now change back!”
Jake’s eyes closed and his head dropped. The shaking of his body intensified and little by little a familiar body started to emerge from amongst the receding fur.
Once the transformation was complete, I stood hands on hips and said, “Well, it’s about goddamn time!”
> “Nice to see you too, Jess,” Jake croaked, flashing me a wicked smile. “Help me up?”
Using my body as a counterweight I yanked him to a standing position trying desperately to not look at his naked body that was coasted in a fine layer of sweat.
“How did you find me?” I asked.
“I have my ways. Let’s get out of here shall we? My car’s outside,” he said taking my hand and threading his fingers between mine.
What had I been thinking running away? I’d inadvertently put his life and my own in jeopardy. I would’ve never had forgiven myself if Damon had done some serious damage to Jake. Luckily, Jake had only come off with a few scraps and gashes that were already healing and a couple of bites on his thighs and calf. But I still felt a cold sense of guilt within me.
“Jess, I’m OK. What about you? Did they hurt you?” he said.
I shook my head feeling the tears I’d been holding back for so long come rushing out.
“This is all my fault,” I cried and he pulled me to his chest. His musky scent reassuring and comforting.
“No, it’s not. Come on, we can talk about it in the car.”
* * *
“I can’t go back,” I said as soon as the doors were closed and the car moved off, back to Scarfell. Jake retrieved a jacket and placed it over his lap, covering himself up.
“Jess, I’m not letting you out of my sight again—”
“No, Jake. My dad can’t know about us. Even after all this. If I go back, Doug will tell him… what we did. It was wrong, he can’t ever know.”
Jake shook his head. “No. You don’t understand,” he growled, his eyes flashing in anger. “I don’t think you realise how much pain I’ve been in since you left. It may have only been a day or so but it felt like my whole heart had been ripped out.”
“But—”
“No, buts. You’re mine, Jess. You’re my mate. We made sure of that the other night in the woods.”
My mouth dropped open, words disappearing as fast as they came.
