by Melissa Haag
The bag fell from my fingers, a soft sound in the oddly quiet room. The man turned his head to look at me, and a smile curled his lips. Another man sat on the bed, watching the pair. He too turned to look at me.
“With a human?” the lounging man said. “That’s worse than being with the werewolves.”
Ethan’s face had already turned an unhealthy red. His hands were still pulling at the hand at his throat. Yet, I felt no fear from him. He knew what was coming.
“Put him down.” I bit out the words, anger surpassing my fear for Ethan. I didn’t wait for them to comply. I pulled deep. Both men grunted.
“Stop or I snap his neck,” the one holding Ethan said.
I laughed bitterly and pulled again.
“I’m not stupid. He’s dead either way.” I exhaled and was about to pull again when the sound of splintering wood interrupted me.
Before I could turn to look at the door, the man on the bed reacted. His teeth erupted from his mouth while his nose stretched and thickened. The mountain flew past me. He reached the bed as the man’s clothes split apart. In a blink, the mountain grabbed the man by his newly formed fur and tossed him at the window. The glass shattered, and the wolf cried out as he fell two stories.
The other man dropped Ethan and moved toward the mountain. I ducked around the pair and rushed to Ethan to grab his arm and start dragging him toward the door.
The mountain caught the man by the throat, causing an abrupt stop to the charge, and lifted the man up so his feet dangled like Ethan’s had.
I gave Ethan’s arm another urgent tug as I tried to get us out of the room. Then, I looked at the damaged door, and my heart plummeted. The other five people from Ethan’s house stood in the doorway. I stopped tugging and glanced at the only other exit, the broken window.
The mountain caught my attention. He wasn’t focused on the man clawing at his arms. He watched me. When I met his gaze, the man he held went flying through the window, too.
Silence reigned in the room for two heartbeats as we stared at each other.
“We need to leave,” he said.
The sound of his voice made my stomach twist. Was it fear? Maybe. Or maybe it was preparing for what I would need to do next. Pulling would be easier if I knew what the giant was feeling.
Ethan, knowing what I was about to do, gave a feeble tug; and I realized I still held his arm. I dropped it and prepared to draw more. Ethan attempted to get to his feet, but I didn’t move to help him. Touching him while I pulled would be so much worse.
“Come on, son,” the older man said, moving to help lift Ethan. His tone and choice of words stopped me from trying to bring them to their knees a second time. I watched as he wrapped an arm around Ethan’s back and gently lifted him to his feet. Ethan looked pale and shaky.
“Isabelle, I’m Bethi,” the dark-haired girl hurriedly said, drawing my attention. “I dream our past lives. Mine, yours, hers.” She nodded toward the other woman in the doorway.
“More of them are coming,” the blonde said.
“Gabby can see their locations and the locations of the others like us. We need to leave. We can’t let them find us.”
Her words were so close to what the letter said. Did one of them write it? I glanced at Gabby then back at Bethi. There were obviously two groups here: the ones who went out the window, and the ones who got to stay in the room.
“Yes, let’s leave,” I said.
Maybe these people really were here to help, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want anything to do with either group. Ethan and I needed to get away from whatever madness was stalking me, and the faster we got out of the room, the faster Ethan and I could escape.
The older man helped Ethan walk toward the door. I stayed right behind them both and grabbed my bag from the floor on the way past the bathroom. The mountain took the extra bag from the bed and followed me. The skin on the back of my neck prickled as I imagined his eyes tracking me. I struggled to remember what the older man had called him.
One of the men held the hotel door open as we filed out—the one with the russet hair. He had a very faint bruise on his chin and watched me closely as I passed. In fact, they all kept looking at me. They were probably waiting for me to run again. It was tempting. But I wouldn’t make a run for it and leave Ethan. And if others were coming, I couldn’t afford to pull more emotion than I could handle without Ethan on his feet to help me run afterward. That meant I needed to have patience for just a little longer.
The group walked to Ethan’s car, and I opened the front passenger door. Ethan’s eyes met mine as he slid in. He tried to say something but only managed a broken rasp.
“Keys?” I said.
He stuck a shaky hand into his pocket and fished them out. Before I could grab them, a hand reached around me and plucked them from Ethan’s fingers.
“I’ll drive.”
I turned and met the brown eyes of the mountain. Sure, he’d saved Ethan. But did he think that meant I’d suddenly had a change of heart? I didn’t know these people, and I sure as heck didn’t like any of them.
“No thanks.” I held out my hand for the keys.
His eyes flicked to the palm and the cut there.
“We don’t have time for this,” the blonde said. “They’re grouping to the east. We need to go.”
I didn’t know what she was talking about, but the panicked look in her eyes influenced me; I’d let him drive for now. If I needed to, I’d siphon again.
“Fine.” I moved to open the back door, but he beat me to it. He held the door as I got in and closed it gently as soon as I settled.
“Hang in there, E,” I said quietly to Ethan as I watched the man walk around the car.
The big guy opened the driver’s door and bent low to get in. He looked ridiculous behind the wheel, cramped and uncomfortable in the small space.
He pulled out of the parking lot, trailing the other vehicle heading west. He drove well for someone who wasn’t looking forward.
I met his eyes in the mirror.
“What’s your name, again?”
“Carlos.”
Something about his voice made my insides twitchy. I didn’t like the feeling.
“Eyes on the road, Carlos.”
He held my gaze for a moment longer.
“You should buckle up,” he said.
I ignored Carlos and reached forward to squeeze Ethan’s shoulder gently.
“You okay, Ethan?” He’d kept himself closed off since the hotel.
He turned his head, winced as he did so, and gave me a what-do-you-think look. Faint blue marks punctuated the red skin of his neck. I rubbed his shoulder, and he reached up to pat my hand before facing forward once more. He would wear bruises for several days, a constant reminder of how I’d put him in danger.
The vehicle we followed took a sudden sharp turn onto a pitted side road, and I fell over in the seat when we mirrored the move.
“What was that?” I said, pulling myself up and buckling in.
“Gabby is trying to avoid—”
Brake lights came on and tires screeched a moment before something flew over the front vehicle and hit our windshield. A startled cry ripped from me. The glass splintered but held. The body rolled to the side and fell to the road, a smear of blood the only sign of its passing.
Everything slowed down as I gripped the seat and stared out the windows. Large dogs poured from the trees on the left. Like a wave, they washed over our car. The roof dented in as something heavy landed on it. Carlos floored the gas. I couldn’t see a thing through the white web of the broken windshield. The back window shattered. A furred hand reached in, ripped the seatbelt from me, and yanked me backward through the opening.
A long jaw filled with teeth greeted me. I didn’t think...I pulled. Hard.
Something hit the side of my head.
* * * *
The ache just behind my eyes almost consumed me. Only the rhythmic stroke of a hand gently running over my head provid
ed any relief. My cheek rested on a leg, and my shoulder and side rested on a soft cushion. I couldn’t lift my head. Words refused to form as the thump in my skull echoed my heartbeat. I groaned.
A feminine voice shushed me.
“We’re in the back of a van. You have a huge lump on your head.”
I recognized the voice but struggled to recall the face associated with it. Definitely one of the girls. Abby? No, Gabby. When I tried to ask what happened, it emerged as another groan.
“You’ve been out for a bit. One of them carried you, another me. They ran through the trees and tossed us in here. We started moving right away. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.”
She kept running her hand over my hair. Anxiety poured from her, contributing to my headache. I took several slow breaths and closed myself off as best I could. After a few more slow breaths, I tried speaking again.
“The others?” I wanted to vomit at the effort it took to speak.
There was a moment of silence before she answered in a hushed voice.
“I’m watching. They’ve fought free and are following.”
“Huh?” I finally tried opening my eyes, but there was nothing to see. My stomach lurched, and I knew I needed to sit up soon.
“I can see the locations of people in my mind. Little sparks. Humans, werewolves, and Urbat have differently colored sparks to designate their species. We’re unique. I’m Hope, according to Bethi, and you’re Peace.”
Peace? That was laughable. I only felt peaceful when beating on someone. Everyone around me, though, loved me. I brought them peace. So, maybe she was right.
I struggled to sit up and barely made it upright before vomiting on the floor. It splattered on our shoes.
“Sorry.” The throbbing in my head increased.
“It’s okay.” It sounded anything but okay. “I really wish there was a window to open.” She gagged.
“Have you moved around? Is there a door?”
Her silence answered me. When I tried standing, I almost slipped. Had I fallen in my own vomit, I would not have been responsible for whatever happened next. Thankfully, I caught my balance on the cold metal side of the van. Crouched over, I felt my way along the seat, which was mounted to the wall, toward the back. Only a seam between two sheets of metal marked the doors. No latch or handle.
“No handles.” My head would definitely explode soon. “I’m going to try something. If I pass out, please get me off the floor.”
I pulled in her anxiety and fear and nearly threw up again. Breathing through my mouth, I channeled my energy and kicked the doors. The metal bowed, and I caught a paper-thin glimpse of daylight along the floor.
The van’s speed increased.
“You okay?” I asked her. Thump, thump, thump; my stomach roiled with each dull beat in my skull.
“Yes.” Her relaxed answer reassured me, and I pulled again.
My next kick saw more daylight, but I also fell on my hip. When I picked myself up, I was still dry.
“Can you stand it one more time?”
“Sure.”
As long as she kept talking, she’d be fine.
I pulled and kicked, again and again and again. The fifth time something creaked, and the light didn’t flash back out of sight.
“One more time Gabby. Okay?”
She didn’t answer, but I couldn’t stop to check. They were trying to get us somewhere before I broke free or they would have stopped to check out the racket I was making by now.
I closed my eyes, pulled deep, and kicked again. There was a snap, and then the doors flew open. The driver must have heard it or seen the doors in his mirror because he swerved a little. I turned and fell onto the seat, almost landing on Gabby’s head. She’d fallen over onto the cushion at some point.
The van braked hard, and the door slammed shut. The latch was broken, though, so I knew it wouldn’t stay shut.
I braced us as gravel crunched under the tires, and the van moved to the shoulder of the road.
“Hold on, Gabby. Just a little more.” I pet her head as she had mine. “It’ll be over soon.”
The van came to a stop seconds before the back doors flew open. Two angry men glared at me.
I gently set Gabby on the seat so I wasn’t touching her. Please let her live through this, I thought.
“Hello, boys.” I pulled hard, trying to focus just on them.
When they fell to their knees, I stopped pulling and stumbled out of the van. Then, I started getting me some peace.
I kicked one in the face and had the satisfaction of hearing a dry crunch. I kicked the other between the legs. There was no crunch there, just a raspy, broken exhale.
“You can’t steal people!”
Yelling hurt my head just as much as kicking. I doubled over and heaved again but very little came up. Heaving just made me angrier. One of the men on the ground, the one with the crushed pecans, started moving. I kicked him again.
Satisfied they would stay down for a while, I tried to climb back into the van to get Gabby out. However, my arms and legs weren’t working together. The world started to fuzz around the edges. Crapballs.
“Gabby.” I wasn’t sure if I was asking her for help again or checking to see if she was still alive.
She lay on the seat, her pale hand dangling over the edge, close to my puddle. Had I killed her? Shadow replaced fuzz, and it started to close in, choking out the light. I was losing this one. Too much damage to the head and too much bottled up emotion. I thought of Ethan as I started to slide to the ground. What would they do to him?
Hands grabbed my arms, stopping my downward slide. My head lolled back. Carlos’ brown eyes met mine.
“I threw up,” I whispered.
“You’re alive.”
For the first time ever, I felt something from him. Relief. It flooded me and made everything worse.
I gagged and closed my eyes.
“Stop. Please.”
A cry of denial preceded a burst of anguish so profound, I almost wept.
“Gabby,” a smooth voice said.
I opened my eyes again as Carlos helped me stand. The shadows at the edge of my vision hovered, waiting.
Inside the van, one of the men from the group scooped Gabby into his arms. He cradled her tenderly, trying to keep her head from moving as he stepped from the van.
“What happened to her?” He looked to me for answers, the pain in his eyes too clear. I hated myself just then.
“Is she breathing?”
He nodded.
“I happened to her. We couldn’t go with them.”
My eyes fell to the men on the ground. The nose of the one I’d kicked in the face had straightened. His open eyes met mine. I didn’t even have time to gasp. Carlos set me against the van and turned to meet the attack. After the two in the hotel, the madness on the road, and the kidnapping, the man’s swipe seemed a slow, pathetic attempt at a fight. Still, my head spun as I watched.
Carlos’ large hands closed around the man’s head, and he gave a quick twist. When he turned to the other one, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t watch any more. My stomach’s earlier rebellion wanted an encore performance. So, I listened to the scrape of dirt and a soft grunt, knowing what was happening. I swallowed with difficulty.
A moment later, something brushed against my cheek. I opened my eyes. Carlos stood before me, blocking out the world.
“Can we leave, yet?”
He nodded. I tried pushing away from the van but gagged at a wave of vertigo.
“May I help you?” He held out his arms.
I leaned around him enough to glance at Gabby up in the other man’s arms. I didn’t think he’d looked away from her yet. Her head rested against his chest, and she looked completely comfortable cradled there.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’d puke.”
I tried again and managed to move several steps from the van. The sky rotated and the ground bucked. My knees shook. And suddenly
I was up in Carlos’ arms. The abrupt change in prospective did not help my struggle not to heave. He held me through it all and cradled my head to his chest when I finished. Then, he ran.
The breeze helped. I closed my eyes and either slept or passed out. I wasn’t sure which.
* * * *
“Is she okay?” Ethan’s raspy, abused voice pulled me from my stupor.
I opened my eyes to blue sky, squinted, and looked around. Carlos still held me, but we were no longer running. Nearby, the man who’d helped Ethan stood with Bethi and the ginger. Their worry pooled around me, trying to drown me.
Ethan walked toward me, his gaze filled with concern.
“She’s fine and wants to be put down,” I said.
Carlos made a noise, something between a grunt and a growl, and bent enough to set my feet on the ground. With care, he helped me stand. The little drummer boy was still having fun in my head, and I winced. Ethan reached out with a steadying hand.
“You should rest,” Carlos said, not taking his eyes from me.
A fleeting look of annoyance crossed over Ethan’s face as he glanced at Carlos. Then, he focused on me.
“Is it the hit to the head or overload?” Ethan reached up and ran a gentle hand over the side of my head. The lump there continued to throb.
“Both, I think.”
“When will they get here?” he asked, looking at Bethi.
He knew what I needed. I could see the calculation in his eyes. How much more could I handle? Not much. My skin was too tight, and my head wouldn’t feel better any time soon if I didn’t do something about it.
“Soon. They were just a few—”
A caravan of three vehicles pulled up. An older woman with white hair and an older man with grey hair rushed out of two of the vehicles. Both ran to Gabby, who still hung limply in her man’s arms. In the third vehicle, I saw four people. A man and woman sat in front, and a younger couple in back. All of them were looking at Gabby.
“What happened?” the grey-haired man asked.
“I couldn’t kick open the door without help. She’s not hurt. Just the opposite. She’s floating so high, it’ll be awhile before she’s back. As long as she’s still breathing, she should be fine.”
Ethan and I shared a look. It was close to the same thing as I’d done to my parents and his father. Guilt tore at me, and I moved away from Carlos and Ethan. The man holding Gabby watched me approach. His emotions continued to spill out, making it hard to get close.