Remus's Revelation

by Pearl Tate

  Just to be sure, I work my way along the edge, looking for any handholds or rope ladders—or a fucking bridge? By the time I’m done, I’m panting from exertion and my hands and knees are a bit scraped up from the loose rock and dirt.

  When I glance back at the cave entrance, I can just barely make out his dark form standing inside the opening, watching me. He knows I’m looking, but he’s giving me the chance to realize that it’s hopeless. And yeah, it’s hopeless from this angle. The bastard.

  Backing into the opening where he waits, I brush off my hands, knees, and butt. I still have one flip-flop, but I managed to lose the other during our flight. It’s funny that I didn’t even notice. Looking down at my feet, I start to giggle.

  Slowly at first, but as the horror and direness of the situation sets in, I can’t help the outbreak shaking my frame. Winding down, I wipe my eyes and glance up to see him watching me like a bug under a microscope. “Sorry, sorry. I just… I’m freaking out a little here.”

  After a moment where he just stares at me curiously, he steps slowly away, motioning for me to follow him. With no other choice, I gingerly walk after him. It only takes three steps in before I notice a couple things.

  Number one, there’s no way I can see him. I’m not sure if he can see in the dark or what, but it’s pitch black. Reaching out blindly, I’m met with a wall of feathers. Large feathers.

  Trying not to grope him, I lightly rest my hand along feathers that have to be as long as my body. His wings have folded up nicely along his back, but they’re higher than his head and almost brush the floor. He can move them easily, and I feel them twitch and shift under my hands as his eyes reflect light and glow like a cats when he glances back at me.

  Number two, they don’t sweep the floor. My right foot is constantly stepping on small pebbles, rocks, and shards of other strange things I don’t want to think about. Was he wearing shoes? I don’t remember seeing shoes on him, but I was trying really hard not to look at him from the waist down.

  Wincing, I stumble when I hit a sharp stone perfectly in the fleshy arch of my foot. Falling to the left, I grasp blindly at nothing but air before I’m caught against his chest. Picking me up, he huffs a bit as he shifts me in his arms, but I just concentrate on not moving.

  Of course, now that I’m not flying through the air or fearing that I’m about to be eaten—although I haven’t totally written that option off yet, I can’t help but worry about Remus. He’s going to be freaking out. Seriously, freaking out.

  I’m freaking out, too. I can only hope that they’ve a general idea of who’s taken me. So far, he hasn’t been cruel or tied me up or anything.

  These positive ideas are still flitting through my thoughts when he stops and puts me down. Frozen in place in the darkness, I lightly rest my hands on his abdomen, desperate not to be left here alone. If he leaves me in a dark cave, I’ll have a mental breakdown. Just thinking about all the creepy crawlies that could be in here with me that I can’t see, makes me start to hyperventilate again!

  We only walked a few minutes, but with no light, I’m totally disorientated. Or lost. I’ve no idea if there were branches going off in other directions. The thought dismays me, because I’m not going to be able to find my way back to the ledge we came in on.

  But what good would that do? I can’t get down. Tears well up in my eyes as I start to feel sorry for myself, and they overflow, dripping down my face.

  A flash of light in the corner of my blurry vision distracts me, and I turn curiously as he lights what I think must be a lamp. I’ve never seen one like it, but it’s rectangular with a wick of fuzzy material popping out the top. Once lit, it throws quite a bit of light around the space.

  Sniffling and wiping my nose on the back of my hand, I turn in a slow circle. This space must be his home. There’s no bed, but it’s clear that the baskets lining the walls hold an assortment of items. It’s clean, so I sink to the floor with the intention of looking at my foot. It still throbs unpleasantly.

  Blood is trickling from the puncture, but it doesn’t look too bad. I glance up and watch in amazement as he easily picks up a large slab of rock and places it over the opening that we came in. Is that to keep others out or keep me in?

  If it’s to keep me in, that’s overkill. There’s no way I could move that. I already know there are others like him, because Remus and I saw three flying objects before. Are they here too?

  I’m not sure if I should be more worried about them or being locked in here with him?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  - Remus

  I take off at a full run toward the direction I feel Jo-Anne in. The pull to her is undeniable, and there’s no mistaking that’s what it is. I don’t understand how it works or why it works, but it’s as if my body is encased in magnets and I’m being pulled.

  It’s not pleasant. The sensation was worse the longer I stayed in the room listening to the others argue. Gilip and Sol still intend to follow me, but already I can no longer hear them as I sprint in the direction I’m needed.

  Jo-Anne’s feelings and reactions come to me as sensations. At first, I only sensed fear, but now there’s determination. She must know I’ll come for her. Her resolve fortifies my own intention, and I pick up speed as I move into a more open area.

  I can clearly see the mountains now. Rising up like huge projectiles from the ground, I can’t help but wonder how far away she actually is. So far, I haven’t felt anything that makes me feel like I’m getting closer. In fact, it feels exactly the same. She’s still so far away.

  There’s an incredible itch under my skin. Panic? I’m not sure. But knowing that she’s been taken, and is now at the mercy of others, makes it all the worse.

  The vegetation thins as I leave the more heavily wooded areas behind. I can’t remember ever running this fast before. That’s why it makes no sense that I’m not getting any closer?

  I spot a river to my left and run at an angle, wanting to make sure that I’m moving towards her but knowing, at the same time, that I need to hydrate. I don’t have anything with me to carry water so I’ll need to follow this water source for as long as possible.

  Crashing through the larger growth next to the water, I come across its bank, marveling at the size. I can’t cross it by jumping. Kneeling down, I take large handfuls of the cool liquid quickly. It isn’t until after I’ve swallowed a few that I wonder if it’s fine to drink? It’s too late now.

  Standing, I move back out towards the direction I need to go. I still haven’t seen Gilip or Sol behind me, and I hope they don’t get themselves totally lost by the time I retrieve Jo-Anne. They don’t have the mating pull I do and could easily get disoriented and lose their way.

  I suppose I’m not giving my younger brother enough credit. He’s not an idiot, just inexperienced. Except for the simple gardening and exterior yard care I’ve done, I don’t really have that much experience outside either. But it’s simple. I need to keep going in the most direct line to Jo-Anne.

  A jolt of anger and disgust shoots through my senses, and I know that I’m experiencing Jo-Anne’s reactions to what she’s dealing with.

  I’m coming, love. I’m surprised by the depth of my feelings for her. Even though I didn’t think that anyone could take Lulila’s place in my heart, I now realize that the tiny sliver she owned was never the part that a mate would dominate. She was a conscientious decision.

  Jo-Anne’s an entirely different matter. She doesn’t only have a special place in my heart; she owns the entire thing. If she said not to ever speak to Lulila again, I’d agree. And I never thought that would happen.

  I muse over the differences between them as my worry continues to escalate. The more I run, the more daunting I realize the travel at this pace appears to be. I’ve totally left the vegetation and begun covering rocky terrain now. Only low-lying bushes and scrub plants jut from the cracks between boulders as I scale a wall, moving to the tiny ledge that offers support.

  I’m hea
ding in the right direction, but nothing looks promising. If I have to go over every one of these mountains, I wonder how Jo-Anne will hold up until I reach her. Because eventually, I will. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll reach her, but I’m worried about what she’ll endure until then.

  Suddenly, a severe jolt of fear shoots through my system. The dismay, then anger, morphs into something I don’t recognize. Pausing, I throw back my head and scream my frustration.

  She’s so far away and there’s nothing I can do! A red tint clouds my vision as I lock in on her location. I’m no longer thinking. My body is operating on an ancient, primitive… something, and I jump from rock to rock at a pace that I can’t even think or pre-plan for.

  I realize I’m losing focus on my decision. Instead, I’m moving through the terrain in a way that defies all logic and gravity. Springing from place to place, I notice absently I can jump that river now. My capabilities are expanding, and I hear the animals in the brush and even in the water.

  Another squeeze of panic has me totally losing focus as all I sense and feel is her. Roaring my frustration again, I mindlessly cover the ground at a breathtaking speed that has my own eyes losing focus. Giving over to the raging instinct inside me, my vision narrows into a tunnel of light as I press on at a blinding speed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  - Jo-Anne

  “I don’t suppose you speak English?” Except for a slow blink that says nothing, my half-bird, half-man captor doesn’t respond to me. Instead, he turns toward the wall. Following his gaze, I see stacks of woven baskets.

  When he turns his back to me and rummages through them, I study his wings that are tucked back snugly against his back. They cover him from halfway down his head to just behind his knees. I know for a fact they’re huge when spread, and he’s a big… whatever he is.

  Turning around, he comes back over with his arms full. Tucked under his arm is a blanket that he spreads out on the floor, dropping to his knees to smooth it flat. Patting the spot next to him, he waits for me to follow his directions and join me on its surface.

  This looks bad. It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to get an idea of what he may potentially have in mind. I have to put a stop to this by trying to communicate. That starts with not joining him on his makeshift bed.

  Limping over to the massive rock in front of the opening to this room, I pat on it before looking back at him. “Open?”

  He stares at me blankly. “Open the door? Come on!” My escalating voice echoes around the space.

  Running my hand along the edge to the side, I follow it over until I can see where it hits the wall. The stone he used as a door is even thicker than I realized!

  Slapping the surface in frustration, I rest my forehead against the cool surface. Irritation bubbles up inside me, and I don’t even realize he’s moved closer.

  His hand on my ankle startles me. Jerking back, I try to move away, but he’s quicker. Lifting me, I grab the top of his wings by his ears to steady myself as he takes a few steps back before dropping me unceremoniously on my back. I feel the blanket he’s laid out against my skin. A series of clicking noise comes from him as he keeps a firm hand around my ankle, dangling my damaged foot in the air in front of his face.

  Flipping onto my stomach, I brace my hands by my shoulders to strike out with my other foot, catching him along the face. Shaking with panic and fear, I grab the blanket above my head and try to pull my ankle out of his grasp. It’s hopeless though, as he keeps a firm hold on it high in the air, keeping me off balance.

  Crying incoherently, I feel tears dripping down my face as I wiggle I ineffectively, trying to get him to release me. It takes a few seconds before I register the cold water he’s pouring over my broken skin, on the foot he’s still holding in the air.

  Freezing in place with the blanket bunched under my head, I’m still facing away as I feel him wiping the debris from my cut. Stinging pain makes me suck in a sharp breath, and I feel his large hand patting my calf. Is he… comforting me?

  Get a grip! He’s obviously trying to be nice. I need to make friends, not make him think he needs to keep me tied up and imprisoned in these caves somewhere.

  The chattering sounds continue as I slowly shift and roll my body so I’m facing him again. His serious expression as he continues to doctor my foot reminds me of a scolding parent. It’s the way he’s shaking his head slowly and clicking away at me.

  When he glances up, I realize the chattering and clicking he’s making must be his form of communication. There’s no way in fucking hell I’m going to be able to learn that! Studying the way his facial features appear, it doesn’t look like there’d be any reason he couldn’t speak my language, but I haven’t seen in his mouth. Does he even have a tongue like a Human?

  Except for the feathers instead of hair—and wings, he looks totally human. Weird. His skin is dark, but the feathers are just a touch darker, creating the illusion of a black cap on his head.

  For a bandage, he ties a clean cloth around my foot, still chatting away in his strange clicks and occasional whistles. As he finishes, he finally glances up to determine if I’m watching him. Satisfied, he pats my calf again and motions to stay.

  Climbing to his feet, he moves back over to the wall and returns with a large, square piece of wood with a pile of what looks like seeds. Setting it down, he settles on the other side and takes a small handful, popping it into his mouth.

  Motioning at me to do the same, I pick up a small piece and pop it into my mouth to chew it experimentally. It’s good. I don’t know what they used to sweeten it, maybe honey? But it’s better than I expected. Is this his version of trail mix?

  He takes a bit more and then motions for me to do the same. Following his lead, we eat in silence. Now what?

  If we can’t communicate, I’m a little worried about what he’s going to expect next. The water container he has is huge, as long as my arm and shaped to strap along your body. After demonstrating how to drink from it, he holds it out.

  I lift my arms to take it, but he shakes his head and motions for me to come closer. Hesitating, he wiggles it slightly—as if the enticing sound of water will make me feel any better about getting so close to him!

  Crouching forward on my knees, I open my mouth, and he settles the tubular end on my lips. I have to suck harder to pull the liquid to the end, and I jump when his free hand comes up to cup his palm to my forehead.

  Immediately, I see a picture of Remus and I in the construction site, walking through the homes we checked out. It’s so clear! There’s no mistaking it for anything else. It’s not my memory. It’s as if I’m there, but the perspective is different, since I’m looking at myself.

  Yanking away, I look at him shocked. How did he do that! His hand is still hovering in the air between us expectantly. Slowly, he lowers the forgotten water down next to us, waiting for my consent.

  “Yes.” I nod slowly. “I saw it. That was Remus and I earlier.” I don’t know what he’s getting at, but if that’s one way he can communicate, it’s better than nothing.

  His hand moves slowly towards me again, and to encourage him, I tilt my head back to wait for it. Settling his palm back on my forehead, I immediately see a picture of me giving Remus head.

  Stunned, I jerk back. “No! Are you serious!” Hopping up, but staying on the blanket to save my feet, I shift uncomfortably from side to side. I can’t even look at him as I cover my face with my hands, blushing furiously. “You saw that… you little creeper!”

  So, that explains why I’m here. Just great! This bird guy saw me with Remus and now appears to be… curious? Dropping my hands, I look at him at him waiting.

  When he reaches for me, I flinch back. I’m not fast enough though as he catches my hand and brings it to his forehead.

  Ah. So, he thinks I can do that too? Still trying to tug my hand back, I hesitate.

  Maybe I can? Memories of times with the Greys flit through my thoughts. Mind speaking with them was
as effortless as thinking but done more with visual pictures than thinking words. Who's to say that I can’t project my thoughts back?

  Relaxing my hand, I let him press my palm squarely against his forehead. My fingers brush across his head feathers, and the surprising softness distracts me for a moment. What to say?

  Closing my eyes, I concentrate on calling up how scared I was when he picked me up and flew off. How quick it was, how dizzy I felt, and most importantly—why?

  Pulling my hand back, I peer at him curiously? “Did you get that?”

  He’s looking at me with a pensive expression. Does that mean he got it?

  His hand comes up to mine and at the same time he grasps my wrist with his other, pressing my palm back to his forehead.

  This time, a series of memories flits through my head. I don’t know how I know they’re memories, but in all of them, it’s just him and a few others. They’re flying over the forest, picking berries from bushes, gathering nuts from high in trees, and then last of all, him in this room. Alone.

  And that’s the overlying theme that carries through on all the memories. Being alone. It’s then I get another flash of myself. I sense awe and… hope.

  Nothing he’s telling me is good. He’s lonely and curious. When is the last time he saw a woman?

  I project a picture of Remus. Carefully, I think about the mating marks on his chest. Their design and the colors bursting and shifting through them.

  Releasing his head, I pull away to turn and point to my back. “Mates.” Flipping my hair further out of the way, I repeat the word slowly. “Mates.”

  After tapping my upper back, I reach up to put my hand back on his forehead. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on imagining going back to Remus. How happy he’ll be and how relieved I’ll feel.

  Snapping my eyes open, I see him looking at me with a resigned look. Good. He needs to realize he can’t keep me here.