by Mason Sabre
“And if I don’t?”
He shrugged. I have some very nice pictures the DSA would be interested in … as well as the Human authorities.
“I disposed of your gift,” she said. “There is no trace of it.” She thought of the sight of the grimalkins and how they ate, leaving only the sheet. There was nothing left for anyone to find. They had devoured him, completely. Louise had burned the sheets, watching them, making sure that every last fragment was gone. “All that is left are the pictures, and they didn’t prove anything. So, all you can show the Human authorities are pictures. Pictures of me having sex with a man.”
“Now,” he said, a wry smile on his face. “You don’t think they were the only pictures I took, do you? I think the authorities would be very interested in the pictures of after sex.”
He reached into his pocket, and this time, instead of the envelope, he pulled out a business card and slid it across the table toward Louise, tapping it with his finger. “When you are ready, call me. But don’t take too long.” He then plucked a note out of his wallet and laid it down on top of the card. “Order what you like to eat, on me. I look forward to your call,” he winked and then he left.
Chapter 7
Louise placed a hand down on the note and tapped her fingers as she stared at the vacant spot Marcus had just left. Her stomach lurched at the thought of having anything to eat; just thinking about it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Fucking men and their power trips. She wasn’t sure she could hate someone more than she hated Marcus right in that moment.
She leaned back in the chair and pushed her glass to one side; she didn’t want that now. She didn’t want anything. When the waitress came over and nodded towards the glass, Louise pushed it closer. “It’s done,” she said. She was done. So very fucking done. “Keep the change,” Louise said as she pushed her chair back, stood up and left. She couldn’t stay in that place.
Outside, it was as if the world had become something different—something sinister. It was like everyone who walked past her had some story — some secret they were keeping hidden. Would they be as bad as hers? She felt as though every single one of them could see through her. Like they could see into her mind and what she was going to do.
Zipping up her jacket, Louise headed back to where she had parked her car, but she was different now. Marcus had seen to that. He had taken hold of her, mentally, and thrown her down like the dice on a casino table.
Getting in the car and simply thinking about Marcus only seemed to ignite the fury that was beginning to burn inside her chest. She slammed the car door with enough power that the damn thing almost rocked off its hinges, but even that wasn’t enough. “Fuck,” she yelled, slamming the palm of her hand against the steering wheel. “Fuck.” She gripped the wheel with both hands on either side closing her fist around it, and holding on until her knuckles were white. She pulled on the steering wheel at the same time as pressing her head against the manufacturer’s emblem of the car.
This was a joke. It had to be a fucking joke. She let herself stay like that a while, until her head was splitting in two.
Instead of going home, Louise drove to Raven’s. She thought about going back to her house, but going there just brought her mind to a new level of, I can’t fucking do this. She needed to be somewhere — somewhere where there were people. Somewhere, where she wouldn’t give into the vicious temptation boiling in her gut, ready to smash every tiny fucking piece of her house to smithereens.
How dare Marcus come and do this to her. How dare he come and take her life, her sanity. He had no right.
Driving into the carpark to Raven’s bar, she saw his car parked up the back of the building. Raven lived above his business. There were steps that led to his private door, and for a split-second, Louise stared at it—some forgotten part of herself wishing, debating, that she might go up there and ask for help. She stared at the door like it was some long-lost life vest she had forgotten even existed. She shook her head. “No. I can’t.” She would deal with this herself.
She pulled the car around the front, to where the other patrons would park, and parked just out of sight, hiding it behind the hired bus—the band had clearly arrived.
Leaning back in the seat, Louise let her head flop against the headrest. Her anger burning so much in her gut, that she wasn’t sure it would be safe for anyone around her if she was to get out of the car just yet. She let her eyes close, fighting the need to open her mouth, take a deep breath, and scream. She tried to put herself in Gemma’s place, and what it would be like if someone did this to her. What would she want if someone planned to seduce her and impregnate her for political purposes? She pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes, pushing them in until they hurt. Hoping that somehow, she would be able to clear her mind. All she could feel was the gut-wrenching betrayal between woman to woman. She owed doing the right thing to Gemma, not because she knew her, or had any connection to her, but that she was a fellow woman in a very cruel world.
Shit.
This was impossible.
Trying to focus herself on breathing, she counted each breath in and out, all the way up to ten, and then started over. She didn’t realise her mind had wandered, until her stomach turned at the image of Gemma laid out naked by the tree, ready and waiting for a man to take her. The sound of the bus’s door slamming startled Louise and made her snap her eyes open and blink. She felt like she was coming out of some deep sleep—some nightmare so vivid that it brought the feelings into the real world. She looked at Marcus’ card sticking up from the unused ashtray, and she knew that this was very real—so very fucking real.
In the rear-view mirror of her car, she could see a group of men walking towards Raven’s bar. Each of them were carrying flight cases or wheeling something. This must be the band. Picking up Marcus’ card, she put it into her back pocket. Leaving it in the car would be leaving her dirty little secret for everyone to see.
“Hi, I’m Tim,” said a young leather-clad man, as Louise stepped out from her car. He wasn’t that much older than her. He had tattoos around his neck, the face of an owl just where his Adam’s apple was meant to be; the wings spreading out around to the back.
“Louise,” she said, her mind distracted.
“You’re early. Doors don’t open till late,” he said, nodding toward the building.
“Security,” she said.
“Louise,” Raven shouted before Tim had time to say anything else.
“Looks like I need to go,” Louise said. “Have a good show, tonight.”
“Raven,” Louise said to him as she approached, suddenly feeling relieved at being saved from the band guy. She could deal with blokes hitting on her. Just not today. Raven might have just saved Tim’s skin.
“You’re early,” he said frowning at her.
“I know,” she said. “But I was at work and I didn’t see any reason in heading home just to come back out here again. You need any help setting up?”
“Sure, if you know anything about stocking up the bar and flushing lines.”
She threw him a smile and nodded. “Well I’ve seen your staff. How hard can it be?”
“Now, now.”
They stepped out of the way as the band members returned from inside the bar, obviously needing more equipment. For a split-second Louise felt normal. That was if she ever felt normal before. Thanks to Marcus, she felt less normal than usual. She watched the guys walking back to their bus, all of them chatting and laughing. She wanted to shake her head at them and tell them how the world had just changed.
Raven had gone back inside the bar when Louise turned around. She headed in too. It was bright inside, like the windows were open, even though they were all blacked out. It had that air to it, like the daylight somehow managed to filter in, the way the weeds sometimes grow between the cracks in the concrete. “Here,” said Raven, hauling a box onto the bar. “Stick these out on the table for me.”
She pulled the box toward hersel
f; it was filled with those useless cardboard beer mats. By the end of the night, they were always found on the floor, torn to pieces. Pointless. Nobody ever sat at the tables anyway on band night. She did as she was told, though, stopping at each table and arranging them neatly. Anything that would take her mind off the card that was in her pocket and Marcus’ request. Although, she figured she’d need more than just some light work to take her mind from it. If Marcus’ request had her so out of shape, how would she ever live with herself if she went through with it?
Could she live with herself? Just move on and forget what she had done?
“Louise,” Raven said, with that exasperated tone like her mother used to use, the one that said he had been calling her name many times and she hadn’t heard. This time was the only time it managed to permeate her concentration.
She blinked, looking at him, bewildered for a moment, as if she’d just come out of another dream. “Sorry,” she said.
“Are you putting the beer mats out, or are you playing with them?” he said.
“Nearly done.” She threw the last couple on the table and then went back to the bar and closed the box. “Where do you want this put?” she asked him, tapping the cardboard.
“Just leave them there.”
Raven was crouched down by one of the refrigerators; he was stocking up with the beer bottles and soft drinks. He took each bottle out in turn, putting them in the fridge, creating a satisfying clank as the glass hit together. Louise watched him for a moment, mesmerised, as if that sound alone was the answer. “You know Gemma Davies?” She asked, “she is a friend of yours, right?”
He nodded, as he stood, kicking the empty crate to one side and grabbing another. “Well I know her. I was actually friends with her brother, before he died.”
“She nice?” Louise asked. Like finding out if Gemma was nice would help her to decide what she was going to do.
“She is,” Raven nodded. “Why you ask?”
“I was just wondering,” said Louise. “Curious, I guess.”
“Yeah? You’ve probably met her in here a few times. She comes in sometimes.”
Louise didn’t recall it, but then, she probably wouldn’t have paid attention to her. One shifter or another, they were all the same to her … hunters.
It seemed to take a while for them to get everything set up in the bar, and it seemed to Louise that she was suddenly walking through mud with her ankles chained. Even when the band were fully set up and testing out their sound, Louise found that the sound of their music wasn’t reaching her inside. Marcus had taken that from her too.
“Is everything okay?” Raven asked. The first band had come on and she stood by the bar, her arms across her chest and her mind in a totally different place. “You seem off tonight.”
“I’m just tired, I think,” she lied, even though her mind was screaming at her to say.
He studied her for a moment. “You know I am a shifter, right? I can smell when someone is lying to me.”
“I’m fine. I promise.” She forced a smile to her face and patted Raven against the arm. “Don’t worry.”
The first band played. Louise didn’t really remember their name. She didn’t care for them much anyway. The female lead was vampire and seemed to want everyone there to worship her, at least, that was the vibe Louise got, but maybe that was just her mood.
When the second band came on, the room was busy—busier than it had been the night before. Louise scanned the crowd. She wasn’t sure when all of these people had actually come in. It was like her mind kept sending her back to some dream state and then something would wake her and bring her back to reality.
There was a man standing between the gambling machine and the main door. He was Human; he wasn’t meant to be here. Louise narrowed her eyes and realised that it wasn’t just him; there was a group of them. Shit. She’d missed them too. No sooner had she started to make a move toward them, the roar in the room seemed to just erupt.
One of the Humans said something to a shifter and then lashed out with both hands and slammed him in the chest. Big fucking mistake. Stupid Human.
“Get out of my way,” Louise bellowed above the sound of the music, pushing her way through the crowd toward the men.
The shifter spun, smacking the Human across the face with the back of his hand, and sending him flying into the people.
Louise dived for him, pushing through as fists and elbows and hot bodies got in her way. One of them elbowed her painfully in the jaw, but she grabbed the man, yanking him to his feet. “Come with me,” she said, dragging him backwards. It was a whirlwind of black leather slamming around her. The music pumped at the same time as she fought her way out, dragging the Human with her.
He fell to the ground when she pushed him through the front doors, making him sprawl across the gravel. Launching for him, she dug her hands into his hair, forcing his head back. “What the fuck do you think you are doing? Coming in here, shouting the odds and starting a fight?”
The Human kicked against her. “Get the fuck off me, bitch.”
She punched him in the face. Her fist smashing into the side of his cheek. She made him roll over so that she could straddle him. “Don’t ever call me bitch. Fucking men …” She brought her fist down again as the Human kicked up his legs, kneeing her in the back and sending her flying over him. It only brought the fury inside her crashing harder. This wasn’t a Human she was seeing, no, now this was Marcus. “You fucking bastard,” she screamed at him, scrambling back to her feet and launching herself at him again. This time, her fist hit him in the side of his head and knocked him to the ground.
“Louise,” she heard someone shout as the sounds in the club suddenly spilled outside to the quiet carpark. “Louise.”
“No,” she yelled back. “Back off.” She was panting and breathless. Her heart pounding in her chest, her eyes on the man. She stepped forward, but big, strong arms slammed around her chest and lifted her off her feet. She didn’t see who, but she kicked and thrashed. “Get the fuck off me,” she yelled.”
She couldn’t get free. She was being carried backwards, away from the Human as someone went to him. Picking him up. Louise was turned so that she couldn’t see and then her feet were set down. “If I let go, are you going to run back to the Human?”
“I should fucking kill him,” she spat.
“Louise.”
She gripped the arm that was across her chest. The only thing in that moment probably keeping her up.
“Louise?”
“I’m fine,” she said, clenching her fists to her sides, pushing away the anger and rage that was like lava inside her. “I’m fine.”
Raven stared at her. “You’re lying.”
Chapter 8
Gemma was in the car parked in front of Louise’s. She had her head down and her hair had fallen slightly around her face. It seemed like she was reading at first, but then her mouth was moving, so maybe she was talking to someone … or this was just how she got herself mentally prepared to shift and run?
They were sitting outside an area that was permitted for shifters to hunt. It was a place not so far from Louise’s house. It had started raining this morning. Nothing heavy at first, just one of those slight mists that doesn’t seem so bad, but by the time you get to wherever you’re going, your clothes are soaked through and you’re freezing. But then the heavens had opened up, depositing large droplets of rain that made Louise have to lean forward as she was driving, turning her wipers to that screeching panic mode. Now the road was just wet and the sun had come out, creating that warm, comforting smell of nature that she loved so much.
She hadn't planned to follow Gemma. She hadn't planned much of anything. Her inner feminine side was arguing with her that this was just too much—it was a threat to her femininity and where was her sense of solidarity? Asleep … that was where it was. Where Louise wished she was.
Her head had been so filled with thoughts and scenarios last night that she had given up tr
ying to sleep, just after three. Every time her brain had been ready to cross that bridge, she had woken back up again, her mind flitting to what she had to do and what she could do. Each scenario she ran through, she envisioned herself incarcerated and then executed. Marcus, the asshole, had created a very sticky web for her to be trapt in.
Even now, as she sat watching Gemma, she found it hard to not glare at herself. Didn’t women die for things they believed in? Didn’t women throw themselves in front of horses and shit like that? A better woman might have told Marcus to do his worst.
But Gemma was the heir to the Council, she had to have accepted that it came with responsibilities and some of those responsibilities were threats, to her and her family. Just do what Marcus wants, Louise had tried to tell herself—trying to justify that Gemma would cope with the threat. She would be aware that this kind of thing could happen.
But even as she tried to make that sound right in her head, Louise knew that she was lying to herself.
Gemma got out of the car. She was carrying a small bunch of flowers with her. She held them close to her chest as she fastened her short leather jacket over her summer dress, and then locked the car. Louise had thought Gemma was going for a run, but Gemma ran the other way and dashed across the road to stone arches.
“Memory stones.” Louise’s heart sank at the sight of it. She was lucky, she didn’t have anyone in there. Not that there were any bodies. It was a place to put small stones—headstones of loved ones long gone. A way to remember someone so that it didn’t seem like they had just one day vanished and would be forgotten. Without the stones, it would be like an Other had never lived at all.
Gemma walked her way toward the back of the remembrance field. Louise could see her from the car. She wanted to get out and follow her, but somehow, it felt wrong to do that. This was Gemma’s private time … her time alone with whoever it was she was missing, and for Louise to taint that with this Marcus shit—even if Gemma didn’t know—felt so terribly bad.