But what about Zoey. Maybe the voice had pressured her to the point where she had given in to him. Maybe she couldn’t handle being abused and she broke and surrendered to him and his friends, Thorn thought.
Thorn wondered if the voice was one of the young men sitting in the dining area challenging and baiting him. His head groggy, his mind dazed. Thorn couldn’t remember a time he felt like this. No control. No sense of being. Whatever the voice gave him, it had dulled the pain and was keeping him medicated to the point where he didn’t feel anything and he didn’t need to eat or drink water. He didn’t remember even using the bathroom. Maybe he hadn’t because his body felt as if it would shut down any minute.
It was a dreadful feeling not having control over his once strong powerful body, and he didn’t like the cold clammy sensation his body was going through. Despite it being cold in the cellar he sweated profusely. He didn’t feel the large drops of sweat beading on his forehead until it fell on his hand. And even then he wondered about the water dropping continuously.
He wanted to see Zoey to know if she was alright, and when his mind fixed on her, the door at the top of the stairs opened, and he heard the sound of light footsteps.
“Zoey? Is that you... Zoey?” He said; his speech slurred. His head turning in the direction of the sound searching for light. Enough light to see Zoey’s pretty face.
But it was dark and it would stay dark and he wouldn’t get the luxury of seeing her before he died, he thought.
When the clatter of shoes stopped on the cement floor, Thorn heard a hard breath and loud breathing. “I’m here, Thorn,” her voice weak from stress. Zoey passed her soft hand over his forehead and Thorn raised his head smelling her wrist. It was Zoey. By now the voice had bought duct tape to cover his eyes. Maybe he could convince the voice to buy a rope, if his mind wasn’t so muddled, and he could talk to the voice. But the voice had sent Zoey.
Thorn wondered why.
All Thorn could do was smile and say, “Baby... is it you?” His voice weak from the lack of food and too much medication.
“Yes, Thorn,” she whispered in his ear. Zoey didn’t like to see Thorn like this. A beautiful virile man reduced to begging for her. How could this happen to him. She blamed herself. She must have done something wrong. Why didn’t they go with Tracker?
“Did he hurt you?” Zoey said.
“It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before. I’m still alive,” he said trying to open his mouth and give her a smile of confidence. She barely saw his beautiful teeth. They appeared weak like his body.
She placed a piece of meat to his mouth. Thorn turned his head from the smell. “You have to eat. Eat this for me. You need your strength.”
Thorn tried eating once more. His mouth hurt. His teeth hurt, but he ate one small piece at a time. The medication had to be wearing off. Now he could feel pain. A piece of beef, but he hadn’t eating in over a week. He would have to eat fresh meat soon. He looked pale in the dim light of the room.
She whispered, “It may take time for me to find the key to that lock, but I’ll do it. But you have to be strong enough. He has friends,” she whispered as if he could hear her.
“Convince him to buy a rope.”
“He may get suspicious.”
“That’s my only chance to free me and you. He’s planning on killing me, and I don’t know what he would do to you.” Zoey had known that without Thorn saying it. Hearing the sound of Thorn’s weak voice, she knew she had to act soon, or it would be over for both of them.
Thorn took another bite even though he wanted to vomit up the cooked food. “I’ll get you a steak next time. And I won’t cook it. But he’s watching at me all the time and I get nervous around him.”
“I love you, Zoey.”
“I know. I love you more than you can ever know, Thorn.” He could only barely nod his head as it jaunted to the right and fell forward. She repeated his name for him to know who he was. He could never forget that he was the son of Lycell a werewolf. The last of a dying breed. And because of that he knew that he had to survive. He had to go on and have pups and grow his pack. And he wanted no other female but Zoey to give birth to his offspring. Because of that, he would find a way to survive.
She crouched and kissed him on his lips, stood, held his hand and left him. When she reached the stairs she walked slowly up the creaky wooden stairs. She needed time to think about how to handle the voice. When she raised her head, standing in the opening with the light streaming down, a gruff voice came from the doorway.
“Hurry up. I have something for you to do. I want my food. You’re wasting your time with a dead man.” And the voice laughed louder than before.
When she reached the door, Thorn’s heavy head raised to see under the duct tape. He saw a sliver of light and a silhouette of Zoey. He saw the man grab her and pull her into the light and close the door with a bang, and then there wasn’t any light, and Thorn languished thinking about what next.
Zoey had to face her plight. She may have exchanged Beau for The Voice, one useless piece of trash for another.
Thorn promised her that he would take care of her and here he was sitting in the dark unresponsive to anything, and thinking about his life as a Samsa. He didn’t realize that the world of men was filled with dangers at every turn.
And now he knew. Zoey knew all along how dangerous her world was and she thought being with Tracker and Thorn would lessen her problems, but now they were more complicated than ever.
After Zoey served the voice and his three friends, they sat back watching television. She loaded the old dishwasher with the plates she cleared from the table and shuddered when a body closed in on her. She felt his hard length on and under her dress. He put his arms around her waist like nothing had happened, and kissed her neck. Chills rose on the back of her neck. He took that as acceptance. She knew it to be sheer terror.
She turned trying to hide her contempt for him. She gave him a weak smile and he said to her, “You are a pretty woman. Much prettier than I thought. My mother and father would like you. I think I’ll keep you,” he said like a little child who had found a puppy, and didn’t want to return it even though he knew it belonged to the neighbors.
“That man in the cellar isn’t really my husband. After you get the money, we should let him go and get a fresh start.”
The voice grabbed her by her neck and brought her to him and said, “Why didn’t you tell me that before.”
“I was afraid.” Her voice small, meek, and trembling. He released her. “If we are going to get a new start, then we should tie him up instead of chaining him. Those chains could kill him before...” Zoey didn’t finish. She looked at the voice’s cold dark eyes as they lit up. “You keep him drugged so why does he need to be in chains. The chains are making him sick. They are too heavy. His skin is turning blue. He can’t do anything or go anywhere. You want him alive at least until you get some money?”
“What money?”
“His family is rich. Didn’t you know that?”
“Of course I did.” A lie.
Zoey had dealt with men like the voice all her life. First with Beau and then his friends. They all wanted her and she had to learn how to play them against each other to keep the abuse at a minimum, or to the point where she could tolerate it. Her thoughts about Beau always centered on how she could get away from him, and when she saw her chance she took it. Now the game had taken on a new set of players and she had to start all over again if she wanted to survive.
She had used her body to survive with Beau and his friends, but now she had to use her cunning and body, and she didn’t know if it would work and if it did, she didn’t have a plan for later.
Zoey sucked in a small breath. She let him get close to her by moving a few inches closer to him. She saw the flush in his cheeks. He was attracted to her, but he tried to pretend in front of his friends that she was just another fuck. Someone to tie up, beat, and fuck her when he got bored.
The voice let his friends stick around in case he needed help. They hoped he would get tired of Zoey, and offer her to them. But he was greedy and didn’t want to share someone as pretty as Zoey, just like he didn’t want to share her with Thorn. Now she was his, and he wouldn’t let her go. But he might go along with letting Thorn go. But not the way Zoey wanted.
He said, “I’ll think about it. Before we leave, maybe I’ll get a rope.” And he gave Zoey a kiss on her lips. He pulled her close then turned her around and patted her behind hard like she was his wife. “Now take a bath and be ready for me tonight. We’re dropping off that finger and a ransom note early tomorrow morning. You’re going with me. I need some company.”
“Can I stay here?”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Zoey shuddered because she thought he was on to her. “I don’t want to come back here and find that my boys have raped you. You’re mine. All mine.”
She had heard Beau say that when he was dating her, and she knew the implications of that. He had plans to do unspeakable things to her.
Chapter 9
Saadia ran most of the way, and when she tired, she shifted to human form, and then she hitchhiked. She stopped on the side of the road and sat. When she saw a BMW going west she stood and extended her arm, her hand, and thumb out. That was only because it was a man and woman sitting inside. Had it been only a man, she wouldn’t have accepted. She would have found the nearest wooded area and continued running and then camped, but she was in a hurry, and she wanted to get to the cabin before Damon, and before Tracker arrived.
The BMW came to a stop and she ran to it.
Opening up the car door she stepped in the back. She smiled and saw the man gaze at her with a suspicious disturbing glance. It was something about his dark eyes that caused her to shudder. She wasn’t afraid of much, but he was unsettling. At first she thought about telling no thanks but changed her mind.
“Late in the evening to be hitchhiking,” the man said.
“Normally I don’t do that, but I have to be somewhere quick. Like tomorrow.”
“I hear you.” He turned to the girl and took her hand. She flinched and Saadia saw her movement and smelled the fear coming from her. “Where are you going?” he said.
“To the next town. I don’t want to take you out of your way.” She looked at the beautiful blond girl with short hair who appeared not to talk or was too frightened to speak.
“We just came from Samsaville,” the man said.
“I hear it’s a great place to visit,” Saadia said to them. “Where are you from?”
“Flagstaff.” The voice liked to talk, and because the trip had been long and Zoey hardly said anything except yes and no, the first chance he got to engage someone different in a conversation, he took it, and he bragged about his family being rich, and he would inherit a large chunk of money soon. He talked and talked. He told this stranger what street he lived on, and his name. The voice was feeling good about himself and he was encouraged about the money once he saw the sprawling estate from the road where they opened the mailbox and set a small box in it with Thorn’s finger.
If they didn’t pay up the voice had a plan. He would mail another finger to the Samsas. Thorn had nine more, and maybe a few toes he could use as leverage and as a persuasive tool, if Thorn’s father was like his. But no one was heartless as his father, he thought, especially since the voice was the only son of this prominent doctor.
“I don’t know anything about Samsaville. Had to go there to take care of business. Right babe.” The voice turned to the blond girl and smiled at her. The girl shook her head yes and didn’t say a word. She looked down and cupped her hands and twisted them nervously. She laughed when he laughed, and shook her head to mean yes and no. It was as if she had no voice and no words.
Saadia couldn’t get out of the car fast enough. “Zoey, tell our passenger good night.” Zoey smiled and repeated good night like a mannequin learning to talk, or a wooden doll controlled by a ventriloquist whose body is controlled like a hand manipulated dummy.
They let Saadia out at a truck stop. She jumped out relieved to be away from that odd couple, and she looked back as they took off. The girl was still sitting in one spot against the door as if afraid to move. Or if she had to jump out of the car.
Saadia regarded the wooded area to see if she could hide. When she thought it safe, she dashed in its direction. Now she was confident that she could get to the cabin in less time it would take Damon. Damon had to travel the highway, but she could zig zag through the forest.
After surveying the area, she stood and shifted. She exited the woods dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, boots, and a cap. She saw the parking lot filled with trucks. Looking closely she saw only men from the diner window. She didn’t want to be the only lone female stranger in the area.
What she didn’t reveal to her parents and to Tracker was she had the ability to shift into a man or boy, if it called for that. She couldn’t just change into a she wolf, she could change into a woman with a different face, or a man. She didn’t know how many diverse humans or animals she could shift to because she had only tried a few.
It began when she was in high school and she would get so angry at Tracker for refusing to see and date her, that one day when she was alone in the school’s restroom, she had been crying and she was angry. She looked into the mirror wondering about what she would look like if she could change into a girl he would be attracted to, and because she was so angry, she screamed.
When she glanced up at the mirror she no longer recognized herself. She was wearing the same clothes, but her face and body had changed. Not into a wolf but into a pretty blond girl. The kind she thought Tracker would be attracted to.
Surprised she scurried out of the restroom. She tried to get home to find out what was happening to her when she bumped into Tracker going to the gym.
The halls were empty and they were the only two there and she ran dead into him turning the corner. She bounced off his incredibly hard body and fell on her ass.
Tracker stopped to pick her up. He stared at her as if he hadn’t seen anything that beautiful in his life. “My fault,” he said gazing into her eyes.
“No mine. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was running. I have to get home.”
“Are you hurt?” He asked holding her hand.
“No. I just have to get home.” He stood in her way and wouldn’t let go of her hand. His hand lightly held hers. The sexual tension between the two was strong and both of them felt it. If they had been near a bed they would have fallen in it. Saadia on the bottom, and the hard body of Tracker embracing her, but they were in school, and they both woke to Tracker’s voice.
“You can’t go home until I get your name and number,” he said.
“I’d rather not. My parents are doctors and they don’t think it’s proper for a sophomore to date a senior.” Even that was a lie. She was a freshman.
“Then we won’t tell them.”
“I can’t lie to them.”
“Then let me lie to them,” Tracker said with a twinkle in his eyes. “There’s no way I’m letting you out of my life. I will track you down. That’s how I got this name. I’m a good tracker,” he said pushing out his marvelous chest in pride.
“Are you a werewolf?”
“The one and only and not just any werewolf. I’m a Samsa werewolf. If your parents work in this town, then they are working for my family. You could do worse to date a prominent werewolf.” That’s when Saadia got the notion not tell anyone and go along with the pretense.
“I tell you what. I’ll call you. Give me your number.” He glanced at Saadia a little intrigued.
“That’s a first. Now I have to sit around by the phone waiting for you to call me. Don’t disappoint me because like I said, I will find you,” Tracker said releasing her hand he didn’t want to part with.
They turned back watching at each other as they left and until Tracker disappeared into the gym and Saadia turne
d the corner.
Saadia called Tracker the next day and they arranged a date. Why wouldn’t she? She had wanted this ever since she heard his name and how one day he would be hers.
Then it was more dates, but he never tried to have sex with her, and then she asked him. “Why haven’t you tried anything with me? I mean you have a reputation around school. All the girls want to be with you. Some of them whisper about you.” She placed her on her mouth and opened it. Then she coyly looked down at his crouch.
“Oh that,” he said with a smile. “The reports are greatly exaggerated. Besides I want you to like me for myself.” Saadia loved him for himself. He was all she dreamed about since she was a small pup. She heard that she would marry Tracker one day, and she expected it would happen. But dreams are just that—dreams. She had to find a way to make her dream come true.
“I like you too much to even ask you something like that,” he said.
“So you only have sex with bad girls and girls you don’t like that much?” Saadia looked up at him as he held her close. “I’m not that good,” Saadia said.
“I know what you are. You’re a virgin and I don’t normally date virgins.”
“And how would you know that?”
“I can smell you. A werewolf can smell a good girl a mile away.”
“What if I were a bad girl?”
“Then I would be sorely disappointed in my instincts. I can’t be fooled that easy. I know what you are.” But Tracker didn’t know that it was Saadia standing in front of him, going to the movies, siting in cars with him and kissing him, and going out to dinner. And he didn’t know it was her who had enticed him at the club, and agreed to go to the hotel, and let him fuck her senseless that night. He had no qualms that night about fucking a virgin. Saadia finally got what she wanted—to sleep with Tracker. Her first and only love.
Thorn in Moonscape #9 Page 6
