“Can we let her up? I’m not spoon-feeding her on top of everything else.”
Oya looked as if she would have been just as happy to keep Becca strapped down, but after a moment, she nodded. “I think Becca might be ready to see the advantages to joining us.”
Scott leaned over and unfastened her legs. “Really?” He breathed as he bent down close to enough to her ear to unfasten the strap holding down her arms. “Doesn’t smell like it.” Becca’s lip curled over one of her incisors but she didn’t growl. She wasn’t sure she could right now.
But at least she was free. Scott helped her sit up, his hands rough on her arms. She swayed a little on the table, catching herself by grabbing the edge. Then she sat there for a long couple of minutes, looking down at her bare feet swinging above the grimy linoleum. Where the hell were her shoes?
A second horrible thought followed on the heels of the first. She squinted down at what she was wearing and let out a big sigh of relief when she saw a sweatshirt and sweatpants. At least it wasn’t a hospital gown, open at the back to put all her cellulite on display. Clearly, things could be a lot worse. She raised her head slowly and Scott carried the bowl and the bottle over to table. He slammed them down on the metal shelf attached to the table and smiled when she flinched.
Becca looked back at him and bared her teeth. He laughed and she reached slowly and carefully for the water. It would be a while before she could manage to put any edge behind that gesture. But once she could, the Nesters were going to pay.
In the meantime, how was she going to get out of here? And as long as she was wondering about things, from what Leroy had said, it sounded like there weren’t that many of them. Maybe not even enough to guard two separate camps. So where were they hiding Shelly?
She took a long drink, only remembering to wonder if they’d put more of the cure in the water after she’d swallowed. But once she’d given first the bottle, then Scott a long, suspicious look, she decided that it wasn’t going to matter. It would wear off eventually for her, just like it was for Scott. She just had to wait it out. She nibbled on some cold and unappetizing chicken from the bowl.
Oya watched her eagerly, like she was some interesting new pet that the Nesters had acquired. “I knew you’d be hungry,” she volunteered. A real smile darted across her face for a moment, making it light up. Laughlines crinkled around her eyes and her whole expression brightened.
Becca couldn’t help thinking that she might like the Nester under other circumstances. Vastly different circumstances that she couldn’t quite picture right now. Leroy opened the door and stepped inside and Oya’s smile vanished like it had been erased. She didn’t seem nervous about any of the men, but it looked to Becca like she thought she had to out macho them to keep them under control. Maybe she did. But it didn’t rate amongst her many problems at the moment so there was no point in worrying about it.
“So did you manage to talk anyone else in Wolf’s Point into trying your cure?” She had no idea if this would get anything out of them, but it was about as much sense as she could muster.
Leroy stiffened and got busy over by the counter. There was a lot of stuff to put away all of a sudden. Oya turned back to Becca and stepped closer to the table. She met Becca’s stare nearly head on, but not quite. “No one else volunteered to try it, if that’s what you mean.”
She’s lying but about which part of my question? “I don’t remember volunteering either, somehow. So maybe the question is: did you make anyone else take it?” Becca could feel the tension ripple through the room now. Hopefully, it wouldn’t inspire anyone to take it out on her. With any luck.
Scott’s lip curled for a moment like he was going to say something but Oya caught his eye and he looked at the door. “I’ll go relieve García.”
“And I need a smoke.” Leroy followed him out.
“Guessing that doesn’t do any favors for your sense of smell,” Becca murmured. All of a sudden, she was exhausted. Maybe there had been something in the food after all.
“He doesn’t need a sense of smell for what he’s doing. Get some sleep. The cure takes it out of you.” Oya threw a blanket at her and she caught it, surprising herself with the automatic gesture. She’d never been good at catching things before. Oya didn’t seem to notice. She hit the light switch on the way, dropping the trailer into darkness.
Becca collapsed back on the table. Just a little nap, then she’d see if she could sneak out. They couldn’t stay awake all the time, right?
Chapter 23
~
Whatever the noise outside was, it was enough to wake her up completely, heart pounding and all senses alert. She lay quietly in the darkness, listening as hard as she could.
And smelling. There were scents of metal and gun oil and Nesters outside. Beyond that, there were trees and mountains and small creatures scurrying through the brush, plus one or two familiar scents that her brain couldn’t quite identify yet. But she felt better than she had that afternoon, almost as if she could get up and run if she had to. Becca smiled.
The sound, whatever it was, got a little louder. Becca twisted around to get under the restraints and dropped off the table into an awkward crouch on the floor. She lost her balance, barely catching herself with one hand braced on the floor, the other clutching the edge of the table. Her hands locked in place, holding her there until things stopped spinning and her heart slowed down a little.
Looking around, she could tell that her vision wasn’t as good in the dark as it had been lately. The trailer was pretty dim; there wasn’t enough moonlight to brighten up its gloomy insides let alone the clearing outside. Even so, she could see the countertop and the outline of the door. And the window, which was where the noise was coming from. She inched quietly across the floor toward it.
The scrap of cloth that served as a curtain moved a little, as if there was a draft in the room. Becca eased quietly over to the wall and kept creeping toward it, using the wall for support. Her hand connected with the same chair she’d thought about using as a weapon earlier and she picked it up once again, careful not to scrape the legs against the floor. Maybe she’d get to hit someone with it after all.
The curtain moved again and this time, she heard a quiet click against the glass. Definitely not the wind then, not that there was much chance of that. The room swayed a little and she caught herself against the wall, nearly dropping the chair. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t up to fighting anyone yet.
She stood slowly and leaned against the trailer wall. Whatever it was outside was tapping against the base of the window now, the sounds so quiet that she wondered if she would have been able to hear them before she started to change. Then the floor tilted under her feet and she shook her head to clear it. Damn Oya and her “cure.”
Speaking of Oya, where was she? If Becca could hear the noises at the window, then she’d expect the other ex-wolves could hear it too. If they were quiet, did that mean that Oya and the Nesters were off somewhere else, like wherever they were holding Shelly? She thought about her alpha and shivered. If they had left this camp unguarded, they were almost certainly up to no good. Granted that was true even if they were still here. She sighed and tried to focus on the window.
It slid open with a quiet click. Then there was a long silence. Becca stretched her senses as far as they would go through the haze of the drug. A human was trying to get inside the trailer, but then she could have figured that out without any sense of smell at all.
There was more scraping outside and a hiss of breath. Then a louder sound somewhere outside, something that sounded like the heavy tread of boots on brush. That had to be a Nester.
There was dead silence from outside the window. Whoever was trying to get into the trailer clearly didn’t want to attract Nester attention. Well, the enemy of my enemy, Becca thought and placed the chair down carefully. Holding the wall for support, she walked the last step to her goal.
By the sliver of light cast by the moon, she could see hands rea
ching upward to tilt the window out. They were big hands, pale, with slightly furry knuckles. There wasn’t anything immediately familiar about them.
The rest of the body and the face were still hidden in shadows and bushes, or perhaps it was more aftereffects from the cure. Certainly the hands weren’t very clear, even when she squinted and leaned down. There weren’t too many options here: either she could scream and alert the Nesters, or she could try and help whoever it was come inside. Hoping that she wasn’t making an awful mistake, Becca reached down and pulled.
And nearly got yanked out into the bushes herself. Startled, she backed away and peered down into the shadows, trying to figure out who she was looking at. The hands disappeared. Then she heard a man’s shout, followed by a muffled curse from the person in the bushes. The Nesters would be here soon from the sound of it.
Becca let go of the window’s edge for a moment and grabbed it again when she started to sway. If this person was here to help her, there was no way she was ready to escape yet. As softly as she could, she whispered, “I can’t run yet. The drug is slowing me down.” Whoever it was in the bushes was silent and very still.
Becca shrugged and turned away from the window as the sounds of men approaching got louder. Even if the mysterious hands didn’t belong to a rescuer, she wouldn’t let the Nesters catch them, on general principle if nothing else. She staggered over to the trailer door and threw it open. “What’s a gal got to do to get some sleep around here?” She bellowed into the night. “Stop it with all the shouting!”
Scott appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. “What do you think you’re doing? Why is the window open?”
“I can’t get a little more air in here? Or you just afraid that I’ll make a run for it?” Becca clutched at the doorframe and swayed, only slightly exaggerating. “How much running could you do after your first dose, Wolf Boy?”
Scott stepped forward, mouth twisted in a snarl. “Listen, bitch, I could…”
There was a blur as a fist met his face, seemingly out of nowhere. Oya stepped between them. Her back was turned to Becca but the set of her shoulders made it clear that she was ready for as much of a fight as Scott could offer. A low grumbling tore itself from her throat, as if it was more growl than she could hold back. Becca found herself watching for her fur to sprout and hackles to rise.
Scott stiffened and for a moment, it looked like he might take her up on it. His nostrils flared and Becca could see his hands clench into fists. His eyes seemed to flash wolf-silver for a moment, though Becca knew that was impossible. There wasn’t enough moon for that and she was pretty sure no one could change after a recent dose of the drugs. But if Oya lost the fight, what would happen to her? To Shelly? She had a sinking feeling in her middle.
Then something shifted between the two adversaries, perhaps some expression on Oya’s face that Becca couldn’t see. Scott glared up defiantly for a few moments, then looked away. His body seemed to tremble. A moment later, his hands unclenched and his shoulders slumped, setting his jaw at a weird angle. It took Becca a second to realize that he was exposing his throat, but fighting the instinct that drove him to do it. Oya lunged, face thrust out, teeth bared in the quick glimpse that Becca caught.
She stopped herself just short of his neck, and hung there a moment like she was enjoying his obvious discomfort as it turned to fear. “Don’t do that again.” She spoke the words with a degree of menace that made Becca shiver. Maybe she was more macho than the guys after all.
Becca wondered what she’d been like when she’d been part of the Pack, and all of a sudden it hit her. There was no way that she and Shelly could be in the same pack. She wondered how Shelly got to be alpha if she hadn’t been Beta when Margaret died, and it had never occurred to her to ask. Now, Becca thought she could guess. It must have been one hell of a fight if Sara had stuck around for it.
Oya glanced away from Scott and the wolf in her eyes looked back at Becca. It sent a shiver down Becca’s spine in a way that it didn’t with the Pack, at least now that she was getting more used to it. Oya was one scary wolf when she changed; that much was obvious.
Then Oya turned and hit Scott in the stomach with one fist, full force, and he crumbled with a groan. Oya looked down at him for a moment, then away contemptuously. “García! Take this idiot away and dump him in your tent.” The other Nester approached cautiously, his hands held low and empty. He didn’t meet Oya’s eyes, not even after she spoke again. “Let’s make sure there isn’t any more trouble tonight.”
Something in the way she said it was enough to make Becca shiver even harder. Did that mean Scott’s days were numbered? What about her own? Either one of them could be described as “trouble,” at least the way this night was shaping up.
Oya looked at her over one shoulder. “Go back to bed. The cure will take a lot out of you for the next couple of days. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed again.” She turned away and followed García as he hauled the still groaning Scott toward the edge of the clearing and a distant tent.
Becca made herself close the trailer door and tried to ignore how much her hands were trembling. She fumbled at the latch in the dark, wondering if she could lock herself in. It felt loose so it was probably broken on this side of the door. But maybe she could prop the chair or something against it to block it. Then she thought about the size of Leroy and the other Nesters; it wouldn’t even slow them down.
But one thing was clear: she had to get this junk out of her system and find a way to get out of here before things got worse. Maybe Erin and the others had found Shelly by now. She hoped that was true, but it seemed unlikely. Oya still seemed confident and in command. If she’d lost Shelly, it would be starting to show by now.
But there had to be a way. Becca just had to figure out how to ask the right question that would tell her where their other hideout was. Then get out of here and get back home with her answer.
But her head was hurting too much to think right now so she staggered back to the table, hoping that lying down for a few minutes would help. Everything still felt sort of odd and out of place, as if her body periodically belonged to someone else. And speaking of periods, wasn’t she overdue for one? All the changing seemed to be messing with that, too and who knew what the cure would do on top of that.
She used the back of her hand to cover her eyes and groaned quietly. If she survived this, there was no telling what she’d be like when it was all said and done. She hoped for something benign but it didn’t seem very likely. The way her luck had been running, she’d be transformed into some kind of completely weird new monster, neither wolf nor human.
The thought didn’t make for pleasant dreams, though she did finally drop off into a restless doze. When her dreams started, they ran together like an old film reel. In one segment, she was running through the woods with the Nesters chasing after her and Oya in the lead. In another, she was chasing the Pack with the Nesters. She was the only wolf.
Each dream woke her briefly to lie staring into the dimness of the trailer for long seconds until her body dropped unwillingly back to sleep again.
The third time that she woke, she had been dreaming that she was in the Pack’s cave. Magic filled the place, spilling over her in waves too powerful to ignore. She stretched her arms out like she was pulling all the power inside herself. It felt like her skin was glowing with it, like she might be able to float off the mountain. Then she looked down and saw her hands. They had become something not-human, not-wolf, unchanging and frozen in their form. The monstrousness of the transformation was enough to completely wake her up, gasping for air and grasping the table with white-knuckled fingers.
She tried to catch her breath but her heart was racing and her lungs were pulling in massive gulps of air like it was water. Water. Maybe that would help. She slid off the table and walked over to the counter, her steps steadier than they had been earlier. There had been a fridge, she was sure of it, and a faucet too.
Becca fumbled until she found
the tap. She turned it and got a squeaky grind for her efforts, but nothing came out. She cursed softly and turned to the fridge. From what she’d seen of these guys so far, it probably just had beer in it. But she’d settle for that if it was cold.
The fridge door opened easily enough but then she was left frozen in place, blinking at the sight inside. Trays of vials seemed to fill every shelf, each one full of a clear liquid. There were dates on the trays, though whether they were expiration dates or dosage dates, she couldn’t tell. But there was enough here to dose the entire Wolf’s Point Pack as well as Scott and his buddies for a couple of months at least.
She took a deep breath and started checking the dates. There seemed to be four vials missing from yesterday, at least as far as she could tell from the date system. That covered her and Scott, maybe Oya before Becca got to the camp. Who else were they giving this stuff to? Shelly?
There were also a couple of bottles of water in the door. She took one out and opened it while she studied the vials. This wasn’t good. She hadn’t really thought this through enough to realize that the Nesters might be close to mass-producing the stuff. Clearly, she’d have to get rid of the whole supply before she escaped. If she escaped. But that still left whatever lab they were using to create it in the first place.
Or maybe the formula was just in their heads. Her stomach churned a little at what that would mean. Wanting the Nesters to go away and leave them alone was still her goal, no matter what other Pack members might want. But what if that wasn’t possible? Bloodshed had to be the last resort. She hoped.
So she was clear on what she wanted, it was just figuring out how to get there that was stumping her. Becca opened the bottle and drank slowly, letting the cold water clear her throat of the cure’s after taste.
Silver Moon (A Women of Wolf's Point Novel) Page 18
