by Regan Claire
“If you don’t stop your ruckus, I will hurt him again,” Smith says, watching the girl struggle to get to her knees with her hands tied. I rush forward. I can’t let that happen.
“Darling,” I say, the word like ashes in my mouth. “Let me handle them from here out. You’ve been generous enough, but their… training should be left to me.”
“She’s a fighter. I don’t want her to hurt you. Maybe I should go get you a different one.” He eyes the girl, even though she has been perfectly still since her brother was threatened.
“No!” I shout. “I mean, she’s perfect. She’s just a little passionate.” I walk as close as my chain will let me, in front of the girl. With my hand extended I would be able to reach out to the boy who is still slumped over Smith’s shoulder. I send a little tendril of my power out to Smith. I’m sure he’ll feel it, but maybe it will put him in a good enough mood that he’ll leave without hurting anyone else. I see it hit him. It’s not as much as I tried before, but I don’t want him to think I’m manipulating him. He takes a deep breath, and then looks at me sharply.
“I told you I built up a tolerance.”
“I know, but I thought it would be a nice parting gift. Something to tide you over until you come home to us.”
He seems to think it over for a minute, but his eyes are the tiniest bit glazed. Maybe his tolerance isn’t as great as he thinks it is. Then he smiles. “You make a man not want to leave.” He drops the boy at my feet, pulls me towards him, which is awkward since there is a human being on the floor between us. Smith kisses me, full on the mouth. Luckily he doesn’t try to get fancy with his tongue, but still, I don’t respond. I’m having a hard time acting, and I can’t fake this. He releases me, and if he’s disappointed in my fish-lips, he doesn’t say anything. Smith gently strokes my cheek.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” He finally releases me and I windmill for a second before I fully gain my balance. I don’t want to fall on the boy beneath me. I nod my head, then stand perfectly still until he’s up the stairs and I hear the door latch. I rub my hand across my mouth to wipe off the foul, and fall to my knees to check on the boy on the floor. His breathing doesn’t match what I’d expect if he were unconscious. I think he’s playing possum. Good idea. I almost wished I had thought of it. I quickly untie his restraints and his gag.
His sister hasn’t moved since Smith threatened her.
“I think he’s okay,” I tell her, knee walking the few feet closer to her. She flinches back. “I’m going to untie you and undo your gag.”
Her eyes are wide, and I try to hurry, starting with the gag and moving on to the ties around her wrist. Her constraints are tighter than her brother’s, and I wonder if Smith did that on purpose or if all her struggling tightened her bonds. As soon as I’m finished, I give them both space. I have no idea what they must think of me.
The girl gently shakes her brother who immediately sits up. I was right: there’s no way he was knocked out.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” she says, keeping her eyes on me.
“Wait,” I say before they can stampede up the stairs. “I don’t know if he’s gone yet.”
“Yeah, like we trust you? You guys are all chummy, and he brought us here for you. Threw us in a basement with you.”
Ah, yeah. I’d be wary of me too, if I were in their shoes.
“Look, if you stay on that bottom step, I can’t get to you. The chain doesn’t reach the stairs.You can wait right there, but please don’t make him come back down. Wait a few minutes until we’re sure he’s gone. I don’t know if I can protect you, and he hurt the last person who was here.” I don’t say kill. These are kids, and they’re probably already terrified.
“I don’t see a chain,” the girl says.
“It’s, uh, a special metal. Makes it hard to see.”
“Yeah right,” she says.
“Really?” her brother says.
I walk back a few steps so there is some slack in the chain, and pull on it a few times with my hand. You can just hear the slightest smacking of metal against the floor.
The brother leaves his sister’s side. “Billy,” his sister tries to grab him, but he dodges. “Kay, if she’s chained up, then she’s stuck here like we are,” Billy, says.
He still gives me a wide berth, but heads up the line of my chain where the sound was coming from, bends down and feels around until he has hands on the chain. When he lifts it up, he pulls my arm towards him a little.
“Whoa, be careful!” I tell him. I’d rather not fall.
“This is invisible! Come look, Kay!” He tells his sister, entranced by the chain that is holding me.
Kay is already behind him. She’s protective. She reaches over and touches where Billy is holding his hand out.
“How is this possible?” she asks, looking even more worried.
“I’m not sure,” I say truthfully. “Smith is a blacksmith. He has a special talent for it,” I tell them.
“Come on, Billy, put it down. Let’s go wait by the stairs,” she pulls him back to the staircase.
I sit down on the old couch in the middle of the room. “Will anyone be looking for you?” I ask them.
“Yeah. Loads of people,” Kay says.
“No, not really.” Billy immediately contradicts his sister. She glares down at him. “What? She’s chained up, Kay. I don’t think she’s friends with the guy who nabbed us.”
“We don’t know that. This could be part of their weird pervert plan.”
I’d laugh under different circumstances.
“I promise, I’m not here willingly, and I won’t hurt you.”
“Then why are you so dressed up, and why did he feed you and why didn’t you punch him when he kissed you?” she points out in one breath.
Billy elbows his sister in the ribs.
“Ow, Billy. That hurt.”
“Well stop being so stupid. Look at her. She’s like, really pretty. She’s so beautiful, she’s kinda glowing. She’s probably a famous model or something, and he’s was stalking her and now he kidnapped her. Of course she’s playing along. It’s just like how you told me to pretend to be knocked out when stuff goes down. She’s pretending.”
Kay looks at me, eyes narrowed. “Is that it, lady?”
“Something very much along those lines. He’s very dangerous, and you should play along while he’s around. He has a temper.”
The boy nods. “See, Kay? I told you. She’s good people, I can tell.”
“Just because she’s stuck here, doesn’t mean she’s good, okay Billy? Because I can tell she’s not telling us everything, and good people don’t keep secrets.”
Very perceptive kid. “How old are you two?”
“I’m nineteen and Billy just turned eighteen,” she says.
“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England.”
“Billy is just small for his age. He had chemo when we were kids. It stunted his growth.” Kay crosses her arms and sticks out her chin, daring me to contradict her. The chemo was a nice detail. It would be insensitive to argue that one.
“Shut up, Kay. She can’t exactly turn us in to a social worker, can she?” He looks at me. “Kay is seventeen. I just turned fourteen last month.”
I suck in a breath through my teeth. I suspected they were young, but knowing it made my heart hurt even more.
“Why don’t you guys check the door now. I think it has been long enough. Just don’t scream or anything.”
“It wouldn’t do any good if we did. No one could hear us. I’m not sure how long we drove, but it felt like a long time and there were no neighbors in sight when he pulled us out of the trunk to bring us inside,” Billy tells me. It’s more information than I had before.
“Billy, go check the locks,” Kay tells her brother. He walks up the stairs, and I hear the knobs rattle.
“Are you going to tell us what you’re holding back? Is he going to kill us?” Kay asks.
“No, he’s not going
to kill you.” I won’t let that happen again, but I don’t say that because she’s already scared. I don’t want her terrified.
“But you are holding something back.” It isn’t a question.
What am I supposed to tell her? I don’t need her thinking I’m crazy, and the truth sounds crazy.
“It’s complicated,” I say.
“Try.”
“Ask what you want to know. I can’t explain everything from the beginning. It would take too long.” I don’t remember most of the beginning anyway.
“Who is this guy?”
“His name is Smith. He’s a blacksmith and incredibly strong and crazy.”
“Does he have magic?” Billy asks, walking back down the stairs. “You know, because there isn’t a metal that goes invisible like that chain.”
I hesitate. Is he magic? Am I? “He has certain talents, yes.”
They don’t look as surprised as I was.
“Why did he take you?”
“He’s a bit obsessed with me. I, uh, also have a talent, and it’s like a drug for him. Or I’m like a drug for him. He thinks we should be together.”
“What can you do? Is it useful?” Kay asks, getting to the point.
“Normally it would be. I can make people do things for me, but he’s built up a tolerance so it doesn’t work on him.”
“How do you make people do things?” Billy asks, curiosity in his wide eyes.
“I—uh, I can affect the way people feel. I can give them feelings they don’t really have, and make them want to help me.” It sounds so much worse when I say it out loud.
“What kind of feelings? Like, can you just make people feel happy or mad for no reason?” Billy asks again, but this time the curiosity is coupled with hope.
“I don’t think so. I can, uh, I basically have power over the romantic feelings.” That’s not right, not anymore, because I can also sense other types of love, like at the beach with that family, and now with these two. I can feel how much they care for each other. Love is what I sense, it’s what I feed from. It’s what I am, I guess.
Maybe they don’t need to know that, though.
“Sounds like a sucky power to me,” Kay says. “Our giant kidnapper can make magic chains and is stronger than an ox, and you can make people feel things?”
A hollow laugh escapes. “It’s pretty useless right now, that’s for sure.”
“I think it’s really cool,” Billy says. “You can make people feel good.”
“It doesn’t always work like that.” I’m pretty sure I’ve caused way more pain than pleasure in my life. Well, in what I can remember of my life.
“It probably does if you want it to,” he insists.
“You two are taking this pretty well.”
“Which part? The kidnapping, or finding out about your special talents?”
“Both, I guess. I’m just surprised that you believe me.”
“Who says we do? Maybe we’re just humoring you.”
“It makes a lot of sense. When you came in the room upstairs, I could feel it before I knew you were there. It feels good to be around you, like home-baked cookies and a warm bed kind of good,” Billy says.
Are my powers leaking? It doesn’t feel like I’m feeding or anything, but Billy says it feels good just being around me.
Is that what love feels like to Billy? Cookies and a warm bed?
“You talk too much, Billy,” Kay tells her brother.
“You feel it too, right, Kay?”
“No. You’re imagining it.” She looks at the floor when she says it. It’s clear she’s lying. I wonder what it feels like for her.
We’re all quiet for a little while.
“What’s your name?” Kay asks.
“April. You’re Kay and you’re Billy, right?” I ask. They’ve been using each others names, so I’m not exactly a mind reader.
“Katie. My name is Katie,” she says.
“Where did he grab y’all?”
“In Virginia Beach.”
“That’s where I live!”
“He grabbed us in the 1st street parking lot at the oceanfront. We should have left when we saw his car the first time.”
“I told you, Kay!”
“I know Billy. At first we thought it was an unmarked cop car, but he didn’t stop. We should have left right then, because people are up to no good in a parking lot they aren’t parking in.”
“Do you have a car?” At least they have something to sleep in at night if they do.
“No,” Kay says, jaw tense. I picture a couple of kids in a parking lot, first thing in the morning. I wonder how many unattended cars were there, and how many of them might be missing a few things when their owners get back.
“It’s not like we have a lot of options,” she tells me, arms crossed defensively across her chest.
“I wasn’t judging.” Was I?
We’re quiet again. The silence stretches out. I explore the basement, trying to find a way out. Maybe there are tools hiding behind one of these tarps that Smith forgot about. I find squat, so I look for anything else that could be considered useful. The only thing remotely weapon-like is my chain, and I wonder if there’s a way I can use it against Smith. Billy snacks on the food Smith left for me, and Kay goes up the stairs to check the locks herself. At one point I hear her beating on the door, or maybe kicking it, but she comes down a few minutes later.
“How are you so calm?” she asks me, chest heaving. I’m sitting back on the couch, trying desperately to think of something. I was pacing, but my feet kept getting tangled in the stupid chain, despite it being on my wrist now. Maybe I can take the sheet from the bed and…and what? Make a shank?
“I’m trying to think of a way to get us out of here,” I tell her.
“Can’t you just make him feel like letting us go?” she says. I don’t know if she’s being sarcastic.
“I told you, he has built up an immunity.”
“You said tolerance earlier,” Kay points out.
“What’s the difference?” I ask, rubbing my temples. I don’t know how long Smith has been gone, but it feels like forever and I’m worried about what will happen when he gets back. What’s going to happen?
“An immunity means it doesn’t touch him at all. A tolerance means it does, but it just takes more. The same way boozers can drink a whole fifth before getting sloppy because they’ve built up a tolerance.”
He’s not immune, because he can feel it when I use my power on him. He likes it. “Like a drug addict,” I say out loud to myself, because that’s what Smith is. An addict.
To me.
“Yeah, like a druggie. That’s why they overdose sometimes, because their tolerance is so high they need more drugs before they can feel it.”
I’ve been thinking the same thing, but I don’t know if it will work. How much will it take? What will he do to the kids if I fail? I try to follow through on that train of thought, but I hear something slam upstairs.
Smith is home.
“Quick, you two. I’ll do everything I can to keep him distracted. If you see an opportunity to get out of here, take it. But only if it’s a real opportunity. I don’t want to think about what he will do if he catches you.”
“Are you telling us to leave you behind if we can?” Billy doesn’t look like he agrees with that idea.
“Well, chances are I’ll be chained to the damn floor, so we don’t have much of a choice.” The creaking is getting closer. “Go to the police.”
“They’ll put us in the system.” Kay’s first thought is of her and her brother’s freedom.
I don’t have time to argue. Who can they go to?
I lower my voice to a near whisper. “Okay, go to Rhys Martin. He’s a bounty hunter, and he’s a friend, and he won’t turn you in. I’m assuming he’s listed.” Maybe the only one I could trust who would actually try to get me out of here. I have a feeling he’d help me, the way he offered to help me before. “Now go to that room and shut
the door. I’ll tell him you’re resting.”
The door at the top of the stairs opens, and that’s all the encouragement Kay and Billy need to run into the other room, though they leave the door cracked. I guess I would, too. Makes it easier to listen. I walk closer to the stairs and plaster a fake smile on my face. I’m acting for three now.
Needs to be Rescued
“You are a sight for sore eyes,” Smith says once he reaches the bottom stair. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long.”
“Is anything wrong?” I ask. He looks stressed. Good.
“Nothing you need to worry about. Not everyone understands. We might need to leave here for a little while, get away from all the distractions.”
I wonder if the police questioned him about those murders. Or if anyone wonders where I am. Eros knew I was with Smith. Rhys knew I was at the party, and knew I left my car. Maybe they’ll be knocking on the door any minute with SWAT.
“Aren’t we safe here?” I ask. I’m hoping the answer is “no.”
“Of course. No one knows about this place. I’ve kept it hidden for us. I know it’s going to take some time for you to love me again, so I wanted us to have a place where we remain undisturbed.”
Rats. Still, being found here was way more likely than if we were to run off somewhere else, although, moving somewhere else might give more opportunities to escape. Or I might be hog-tied in a trunk somewhere.
“Okay. Here, let’s sit down. You look tired. Is there anything I can do?”
He looks relieved. “That sounds great. Actually, do you think you can rub my temples the way you used to? I have the beginnings of a really bad headache.”
I don’t have any memories of rubbing his temples, but I’m not gonna tell him that. It can’t be that hard, other than the whole touching-him part. Maybe it’s a good time to test out the idea that’s been forming in my head the past few minutes.