The waiter came back with the jacket holding it in both hands to help him into it. He had to stand on tiptoes for Thorn to place his arms in the coat.
Putting it on, Thorn noticed that the sofa where Zoey wanted to sit had been taken by a group of young men. They appeared to be athletes because they were making gestures as if they were throwing a football and the others were catching it. They were drinking and laughing and glaring at Zoey. Thorn did notice that. Obviously it wasn’t him that brought that look to their eyes.
Thorn walked up to them and said, “Do you mind if we sit here and take our table? My wife asked the waiter first, but he forgot to hold the table.” Thorn’s voice small and accommodating only for Zoey.
Thorn had asked politely because that is what his mother taught him. In the land of men he had to watch his manners.
“Get lost. We’re not going anywhere. We got here first. When you slow you blow.” And the friends of his sitting around and eyeing Zoey laughed at Thorn, who must have look like a cartoon of himself, in an oversized jacket and a pair of Docker pants and a white shirt Zoey purchased downstairs from a men’s shop, which specialized in clothes to wear on the golf course.
One of the friends, with the dark hair and ill-behaved look, sitting close to the young blond man who spoke first said, “You can’t sit here but she can. As a matter of fact, I have a place right here just for her and he cupped his hand over his cock, and Thorn glanced down to see that he had a hard on for Zoey. Thorn’s eyes deepened to a dark blue and his breathing grew intense.
Zoey grabbed Thorn’s arm. Pulling Thorn’s arm, he looked up at Zoey. She had that look again. A pleading look not to do anything. She hadn’t seen what he could do, but she knew what Tracker could do. Thorn calmed and remembered that whatever he did there could be no others to talk about it. When Thorn looked around and saw the restaurant full, he raised an eyebrow, and shot the dark haired guy a menacing glare and walked away.
“Don’t mind them, they’re jealous of you. All of them together couldn’t make a man like you,” Zoey said. But Thorn wasn’t a man in that sense although he tried to be for that one moment in time.
“We can go outside. You like the outside,” Zoey said.
They sauntered through the glass doors with the gold handles, and walked near the open fireplace where there were tables and only a few guest sitting and enjoying the star filled night sky, and the orange flames dancing in the fire place.
Outside it was a cool sixty degrees. Zoey huddle up next to Thorn and when he wrapped her in his arms, she didn’t feel the cold, but she felt the heated eyes of the dark haired guy following her every move.
“You wanted to sit on that velvet sofa,” Thorn said fuming. She placed her hand on his to quiet him. Then one to his face.
“It’s not important, Thorn,” Zoey said her voice soft and soothing.
“I promised you I would get you whatever your heart desired. Now I have to buy you a velvet sofa for our home. The one I will build for you.” He smiled and pulled the chair out for her not letting the waiter have that pleasure. Thorn sat down near her. She looked over at him smiling her adorable smile. For once she had found someone to love her and she would hold on to him for dear life.
Zoey glanced up at Thorn thinking he meant well and he wouldn’t be able to buy her a home because he appeared to be spending what money he had on the frivolous things she thought she needed, like a dress and shoes, and an expensive hotel on the beach. She didn’t know his financial worth. But she did know his worth as a man and as a werewolf. And that’s all she needed to know.
When they laid in bed earlier, he made all kinds of promises to her. He would give her the world if she asked for it. “Only a small house in Samsaville, where I can be safe,” she had said to him.
“You will always be safe in Samsaville. My mother will love you, but my father, he needs time,” Thorn had said to Zoey when they were lying in the bed dreaming about their lives together. Thorn mentioned children which Zoey tried to change the conversation. She didn’t think she could. Thorn didn’t explain to her he knew she was fertile.
A werewolf can sense that.
When they looked up the waiter stood near them and handed them their menu. She looked over to Thorn. “Don’t order uncooked meat,” she whispered, “they won’t serve it anyway. All you will get is strange looks.”
Thorn followed Zoey’s direction and didn’t order meat, but instead he ate Salmon and sushi.
Every so often Thorn would turn and look behind him, and he would see the young guy with the dark hair gawking at Zoey. It was a strange look. One he had seen in animals. Not when they mated, but when they killed a prey, and wouldn’t release it even when they were dying.
Turning back to Zoey, Thorn took her hand and said, “I want you to tell me if you decide to go anywhere. Don’t go swimming unless I’m there. I don’t like the way that guy is looking at you,” he said to her. He had an instinctive way of knowing when danger was near and clearly there was something dangerous about the guy.
“This is the first time I’ve been near the ocean and a pool and I’m not going to let any guy spoil it for me.” Thorn glared at her. She sucked her teeth, turned and looked at the man Thorn referred to. With narrow eyes she said, “I promise.” Zoey saw what Thorn saw in the dark haired man’s eyes. She had seen many men’s eyes in her few years with Beau, and she could recognize that it was something dangerous and immoral about his eyes.
When dinner was over and Thorn managed to get through the fish, he realized that it wouldn’t do. He needed more nourishment. When they walked back to the room he said, “I have to hunt. I need fresh meat. Stay in here and lock the doors until I return.”
“I understand. I’ll watch that large flat screen, and eat some chocolates from that expensive little fridge.” She kicked off her shoes and opened a bag of chocolate covered nuts and popped one in her mouth. She fell across the bed and crossed her legs and said, “How late will you be gone?”
“All night. I’ll see you when the sun comes up. Keep the doors locked.” He leaned down and kissed her, placed his hand between her legs, and smelled his finger.
“What’s that for?”
“So I will never forget your scent. That’s so I know to hurry back.” She stood up letting Thorn unzip her dress dropping her clothes and thong. She crawled back into bed and smiled. She lay there naked. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips. She raised her arms and circled them around his neck and gave him a heated kiss.
“Do you have to go?”
He looked into her eyes and said, “I don’t want to go, but I have to. It’s been too long since I had fresh meat.”
“I understand.” She released her hands, “Go. Get back to me soon.” She pushed him away. He straightened up. “I have something special for you,” Zoey said playfully. An open smile covered her face. He backed out looking at Zoey lying naked in the bed. He reluctantly turned and walked outside.
Remembering there was a wooded area in the front of the hotel, Thorn left by the patio door, and walked down the stairs, and took the stone path to the front of the building. He passed a golf course. Then he found himself deep in the thick of the forest. Tall pine trees surrounding him and high grass. With the small forest, near this hotel there would be small game, so he would make the best of his hunt. It would likely take long because a rabbit or two wouldn’t satisfy a hungry werewolf.
Unbuttoning his shirt and dropping his pants after leaving his shoes in the room, he was free again to roam the forest. How he missed his home. How he missed the hunt with his father and brothers. Was he cut out for leaving all that behind?
He knew Zoey would follow him anywhere, therefore, if he told her they would go back to Samsaville, he knew she would be happy with that. He had no doubts about her, but he had promised Tracker he would see the country with him. Now he wasn’t too sure. Maybe when he caught up with Tracker in Mexico, he would explain how this kind of life was too hard for Zoey.
But then it wasn’t good to leave a werewolf without his pack alone in a world of men. That’s why they lived and traveled in packs. He had to go along with Tracker even though he didn’t want to because it was necessary and right, and to leave him would be dangerous.
After making his fourth kill, Thorn sat down and ate most of it. Looking at his body, he was full of blood and the sun was rising in the east. He had to get back quick and get to his room before the guest stirred around.
Thorn found his clothes without a problem, but he was so covered with blood that he didn’t want Zoey to see him. He took a deserted unused path back preparing to hide if anyone caught sight of him. He looked around for cameras. None that he noticed. When he saw a workmen he hid behind a bush. He couldn’t explain walking nude with blood on his chest. Or shifting to a large white wolf with blood on his fur. In either case there would be an alarm set off. He headed for the ocean and rushed into the water leaving his clothes on the sand for when he would return.
Thorn thought about the cameras but that wasn’t a concern now. Getting back to Zoey was.
Swimming for a few minutes, he felt fresh and clean, and wanted to have sex. Placing his pants and shirt on, he walked barefoot in the sand thinking about Zoey waiting for him, and how he was going to tell Tracker that the open road wasn’t for him. And plead with Tracker to come back to the pack and to Samsaville.
Finally after much thought while swimming, he made up his mind that Zoey wasn’t made to ride in the back of a motorcycle and sleep in the woods. She needed a house to live in. He had promised her that. She needed a town to belong to, and he needed Zoey by his side, and he wanted to have pups with Zoey.
He kicked at the sand as his feet dug deep in it. Stopping outside, he tried knocking the sand from between his toes. Looking up at the stairs, he climbed it reaching the terrace patio quickly. Then he walked through the open glass doors. He wondered if Zoey had fallen asleep the minute he left. She didn’t lock the door.
He felt warm hands on his throat, and several hands restraining his arms. Then he felt a needle puncture his skin near his jugular, and his ankle. He tried to fight to shift. His arms flaying, then dropping to his side like a heavy bag of sand. He tried biting the hands holding him in place, but then he had no strength in his mouth, and no power in his jaws. All the strength in his body drained out of him like the air out of a balloon, and he dropped to his knees, and fell on the floor, face forward.
Thorn didn’t remember much after that.
Chapter 4
When he woke his eyes gradually opened. One eye and then the next. He glanced around looking down at his hands. He was seated in a chair with his hands and arms and legs held down with chains which were brought together slyly with a lock. His eyes were covered with a scarf and from the smell of it, it had been worn by Zoey.
His eyesight blurred but still he could make out some forms in the dark.
The room dim lit. But through the scarf he could see a small shimmer of light. A small flash light or open door. There was silence around him, but Thorn could hear breathing and the pacing of footsteps above. The floor didn’t have carpet. Thorn heard unclear voices above him in a room above his head. He heard strong footsteps like that of men standing and then moving around.
Thorn thought he may be in a basement somewhere. But where? The dark room had the smell of dirt and old dying vegetables. It wasn’t hot or cold in there it was just damp with a moldy chronic smell that made him nauseated. He felt like he could throw up but it would be a dry heave because his stomach was empty and he was thirsty. He had never been this thirsty before in his life. He could go without food for twelve days but water that was another issue.
It wasn’t clear how long he had been here, but it was enough time to know that he needed to eat again and he needed water like yesterday.
“Where am I?” Thorn said his tongue heavy, his speech slurred as if he had been drinking liquor for days. Then he heard the deep breathing of someone standing in the middle of the stairs leading down to the cellar. Then he heard the hard footsteps of a man as he trudged down the stairs on to the cement floor.
“Is that all you can ask? What about where is your wife?” The voice said playfully. But this was noting to play about. He had been kidnapped and for all Thorn knew Zoey could be dead or worse. He didn’t want to think about worse.
Then the man crouched near Thorn’s right ear. Thorn tried moving but his arms, his fingers, anything, but his arms felt like two bricks, and his mouth felt dry, his lips cracked like a desert floor that once had a river passing through it, but now no longer.
Thorn could turn his head but nothing else. And that was a difficult task because it was as if his head weighed more than his entire body. There wasn’t anything he could do. He just sat there unable to move to help himself, or look after Zoey. At that moment he felt powerless. He had never been drugged before. And he didn’t recognize it for what it was.
Thorn had heard of those things because it had never happened in his world, but then his world comprised of a small area, and a small town, and a small pack of werewolves. There was a whole world out there where this is routine. Where men used drugs to control other men.
“I figured you would tell me... about her.” It was hard for Thorn to form his sentences. He had to take his time when talking. “Is Zoey... why I’m here,” Thorn said hiding his fear. Not for himself but for Zoey.
He had been warned by his father that dangers from men could haunt a werewolf all his life if he wasn’t careful. He had been prepared for the worst for himself, but not for what could happen to Zoey.
“You’re here because of Zoey,” the voice said standing. It was a strange voice like none he had heard before. A voice trying to hide the cruel and brutal person behind it. It was an unnatural deep voice as if pretending strength while hiding the cowardice of the person behind a sometimes cheerful cruel pleasant voice.
“You have something I want,” the voice said his tone soft and easy.
“And you would... kidnap me to get my wife? That doesn’t... make any sense. Why not kidnap her and... ask me for ransom?” Thorn discovered it was more about money. This had to be a guest at the hotel who thought they had money. But if he was there, he didn’t need the money, or did he?
“Because no one would give her a dime, and well... I want her and the money,” he said as if he was talking about buying a new model of car.
“If I had her you wouldn’t pay the money, but she said that your family would pay to get you returned. At first I was going to take her and when I finished with her, then let her go or maybe kill her,” The voice said matter of fact. “But then when she said you had money or your family had money. I changed my mind about you. My plans changed. She’s a good fuck. I would get the money and get lost with her.”
He walked around Thorn and Thorn raised his nose and took in his scent. He didn’t want to forget that scent ever.
“Where’s Zoey?”
“She’s cooking for me and my friends.” The voice laughed. “She’s pretty handy in the kitchen. You had yourself a real domesticated one, and she’s good to look at, and good in bed. I envy you. But soon you will envy me. That is...” The voice didn’t finish his conversation. Zoey’s a survivor. She did what was necessary to survive, Thorn thought.
“Did you? Is she?” Thorn choked and the words wouldn’t come out.
“No. Not yet. But all in good time. I need her to carry a message to your family.” He walked in front of Thorn and bent over, took out a scalpel from his pocket, and with one quick slash, cut off Thorn’s small finger off. The finger fell into a small box.
Then Thorn heard a flick from a lighter. He burnt the end of Thorn’s finger to cauterize the wound.
Thorn tightened his grip on the arm of the metal chair and gnashed his teeth. He wrapped his long fingers around the arms of the chair. He didn’t scream. The shock would have caused him to shift, but he controlled that, because where could he go in chains? The hea
vy chains prevented movement of any kind and the medication rendered his body useless.
“You must be a bad ass. You can lose one of your fingers and never scream or flinch. I wonder what you’ll do when I fuck that bitch in the ass in front of you.” The voice’s tone took on another element and his true nature shown through to Thorn. Thorn realized that he and Zoey wouldn’t leave the house alive if he got his hands on the money.
Standing before him was indeed a crazy man. Thorn had to figure something out before it was too late for him and if he died then Zoey would be at the mercy of this maniac. He didn’t know how much time he had because he didn’t know how long he had been in this cellar. All he could do was to sit there and use these precious moments to think.
The drugs had his mind confused. No one knew where they were, and by now Zoey was so afraid that she couldn’t think straight and all she could do was to stay alive by pleasing the voice.
Where is Tracker? Thorn wondered. Didn’t he know when they didn’t make it to Mexico that something had to be wrong? Thorn’s mind focused at the danger in front of him and smiled. His father had said to meet danger with a smile and not a frown. Men were dangerous. You can’t allow the enemy to know you’re fearful unless it’s used to disarm them.
“What are you smiling about?” the voice asked. He had been thrown off by the smile and became unsure of himself. “You can’t do anything to me. I wish you could see yourself. No. I’ll let your wife see what a pathetic man she has married.”
“It’s not what I will do to you now, it’s what I will do to you later,” Thorn said with a raised eyebrow and a wider smile showing his large incisors. In the dim light the voice only saw the smile. He didn’t see Thorn’s deadly teeth.
“You’re confident for a man in chains and can’t see, and don’t know where he is.”
Thorn in Moonscape #9 Page 3
