The memory came back too sharply in the bright sun as she trekked through the sage brush, Evan in tow. It had been more than a week since the strange incident, but she still felt uneasy about the whole situation. Why was he there? What did he want? And why did he have to come with her today?
Absorbed in her thoughts, Integrity brushed her hand absently against the leg of her jeans. When her fingertips brushed against something foreign, she looked down to see a large insect scaling her pant leg. “Ew! Get it off, get it off!” She jumped up and down and waved her hands in the air, not relishing the thought of touching the bug again. A hand entered her vision, and the bug was swept aside. She backed several feet away, feeling as though a thousand bugs were crawling over every inch of her body. She shuddered. “Thanks,” she muttered, embarrassed by her reaction, though she still had the heebie-jeebies. Peering distrustfully at the amber colored bug, she asked, “What is it, anyway?”
Evan crouched in the sagebrush, studying the insect calmly. “I think they're called earth babies.”
“It looks like an ant that wandered through some nuclear waste.” She scratched her scalp roughly.
“Did it bite you?”
Integrity frowned. He actually sounds like he cares. Weird. “No, I don't think so.”
“You'd know if it had. They aren't very subtle.” He stood up and wiped his hands on the legs of his slacks. Integrity grunted and moved away, trying not to look at him. After a moment, he said, “You know, most guys don't jump around and shriek when a bug's on them. That could blow our cover.”
Integrity didn't feel as antagonistic as she normally would have. “Are you actually teasing me?” she asked, keeping her eyes averted.
“Maybe. All I know is that if I saw a guy acting like that, I'd girl slap him.”
“Are you going to slap me?” She turned to face him, her heart rate increasing. She forced herself to keep from clenching her fists, though she knew her posture must look very stiff.
“Naw. My parents always told me not to hit girls.”
“Why don't I believe that?” she said, somewhat under her breath.
“Probably because they never did,” he whispered, hoarsely, back.
Integrity stalked on toward the prefab. I liked him better when he was being a jerk. They had nearly arrived at the back door when she spotted a movement on the dirt road that led to the house. “What's that?” she asked, squinting as the sun dropped toward the west. She hadn't expected a response from Evan, so she started jogging toward the low, light-colored form.
As she neared, she slowed in confusion. The dog, it's nose pressed low to the ground, was cautiously approaching the wire fence strung to one side of the road. Once the dog met the wire, it would slowly back up, change its trajectory, then try again. She approached slowly, talking soothingly to the dog. Its ears pricked as soon as she started speaking.
“C'mere, puppy.” When she slapped her hands on her legs, the noise sent the dog into a frenzy. He started bounding forward, crashing forcefully into the wire that separated them. She hastened forward, no longer fearing that the dog might bite her. “No, don't do that! Hold still! I'm coming,” she hastened to say, hurrying around the wooden post nearest the dirt road. The dog tracked her, following her progress. She wondered what the deal was, but her questions were all answered when she neared the dog and he reared up on his hind legs, placing his paws on her midriff. “Oh, you poor guy!” His right eye was clouded with impenetrable cataracts, while the left eye was missing entirely, as attested by the sunken eyelid permanently closed over it. “What happened to you?” She stepped back, the dog's long nails digging into her, and ran her hands over his back. She turned and looked back toward the house and saw Evan standing some distance away. “Come here. You've gotta see this dog!” She turned back to the happily panting dog, talking nonsense to him. After a moment, she turned to look at Evan again. “What are you still doing clear over there? Get over here!”
Evan was far enough away that speech was difficult. Grunting in frustration when he remained stationary, she urged the dog to follow her. She found, as they slowly progressed, that he found some security if she was touching him, so she bent over and rested her hand on his neck, talking to him the whole time. Finally they reached Evan, and she straightened up to face him. She started to speak, but then stopped as she noticed his expression. After a few seconds she said, “Don't tell me a vampire is afraid of a blind dog?” She was incredulous. “You've gotta be kidding me!”
“I'm not afraid.” Evan's voice was almost a growl. When he spoke, the dog perked up immediately and moved toward him with unerring accuracy. Evan quickly stepped to the side. The dog walked several feet beyond Evan, then began turning in circles, obviously looking for the owner of the mystery voice.
“You jerk! Look at him!” She gestured toward the still searching dog. “Would you please just man up and pet him before he has an aneurysm?” When Evan just watched the dog warily, Integrity made a disgusted noise and moved toward the dog once more, calling him to her. The dog pressed tightly against her leg, almost knocking her over, once he was back at her side. “Let's go back to the house. Do you want to lead or follow?” she asked derisively. Evan gestured for her to move forward, so she did. What an idiot, she thought, hoping she didn't look as awkward as she felt, trying to lead the dog on. You need a collar, dog, she thought as her back twinged. And maybe a skateboard so you don't move so slow.
As she guided the dog through the door, Paul greeted her in his normal fashion, then asked, “Why are you hunched over like that?” He walked forward to peer over the back of the couch that separated them, then jerked back. “Integrity, move away from it. Now!” When she didn't do as instructed, he reached across the back of the couch and bodily dragged her over it.
“What are you doing? Paul, get a grip!” She struggled to get her feet underneath her. “What's your problem? It's just a dog.”
“It'll rip you apart!” Paul responded, turning to seek out Bowman. “Bowman, can you see it?”
By this time the mutt had worked his way around the edge of the couch and was moving toward the sound of voices. Paul pulled Integrity behind him while Bowman approached the dog aggressively. “You guys, stop it! He's not going to hurt me!”
She would never know if Paul and Bowman would have listened to her. It didn't really matter, since Evan walked in at that moment and held is hands up. “It's okay. The dog's a freak.”
“Now just wait a second,” Integrity interjected, feeling oddly protective of her cast off. She trailed off as she saw the look of astonishment that blanketed the faces of her two guards. They watched mutely as Evan walked straight past the dog and then sat on the couch, ignoring everyone in the room.
Bowman was muttering expletives under his voice, shaking his head slowly back and forth. Paul took a moment to gather himself, closed his gaping mouth, and walked hesitantly toward the dog who had run into the coffee table and stopped.
Integrity couldn't help but laugh. “Would you just pet him already? He's not a man eating shark. I swear, you guys are a bunch of wusses. How much protection are you, anyway?” She thought her friendly teasing would get some smart remark out of Paul, but he was focused entirely on the dog. He actually flinched when his fingertips touched the dog's forehead. The dog's head jerked up at the contact, and Paul jerked his hand back. Integrity sighed and walked over to the dog. “C'mere, boy,” she said, snapping her fingers so that the dog could follow the sound. She sat on the couch, and the dog promptly put one paw on her knee, leaning his shoulder against the couch and making it slide slightly on the bare floor.
Evan sat staring mutely at the far wall, studiously ignoring everyone in the room. Bowman had advanced no more than a single step and was watching the scene before him warily. Paul's expression explicitly declared that it was against his better judgment to let the dog be in such close proximity to Integrity. As worry built slowly inside her, Integrity stated firmly, 'I'm keeping him, you know.”
/> Paul and Bowman both erupted into speech, negations flowing thick and fast. Integrity listened for a few seconds, then waved her hands in the air. “Whoa, whoa! Stop for a minute. The dog is obviously not going to kill me, so what's the problem?”
Paul stumbled over his words. “Well, it's just that, um . . .” He was obviously struggling to organize his thoughts. He stopped, swallowed, then said, “I just need a minute to catch up. This is so bizarre.”
Integrity ran a hand over her short hair. “What's so hard to understand? I found a stray dog, he's not vicious, I'm going to keep him. Do you think animals hate me or something?”
“Oh, no, no. It's not you at all.” Paul emitted an odd laugh. “You're not the problem. It's us.” He gestured at the room at large.
“What, you don't think he likes men?” Integrity wrinkled her forehead, struggling to unravel Paul's twisted reasoning.
Bowman took a few steps forward, his gaze locked on the dog at her side. “Animals don't like our kind,” he grunted. “They don't trust us. Don't know why this one does.” He nodded his head once, pointing to the happily panting mutt.
“It's something to do with sight,” Evan uttered, still not looking at the group. He paused for a moment, as though surprised he had spoken, then said carelessly, “The dog can't see, so he doesn't know that we're . . . abnormal.” Evan stood abruptly and walked into the kitchen, out of the view of the others.
“Okay,” Integrity drawled. “That was interesting.” She stood up and the dog stuck to her every movement. “C'mon, boy, let's get you washed up. You're way too dirty.”
“I'll go into town and get him some food. Do you need anything else?” Paul grabbed the car keys off of the island in the kitchen and moved toward the door.
“Yeah, a collar and leash would be nice. Thanks.” Integrity continued to slowly guide her charge toward her room, acutely aware of Evan sitting at the kitchen table. Don't look at him, don't look at him, pretend he's not there, she coached herself.
After crashing into the door frame and the bathtub, the dog stopped and panted happily. When Integrity turned on the tub faucet, the dog flinched and tried to leave the bathroom, crashing into every obstacle possible on the way. “Oh, no, you don't.” She stepped over his back and closed the bathroom door. The dog spent several minutes trying unsuccessfully to pry the door open. Once the tub had several inches of water in it, Integrity shut off the water flow, squeezed out of the bathroom door while keeping her captive inside, and grabbed a large glass from the kitchen.
Though the dog was thinner than he should be, he was far too heavy and bulky for Integrity to pick up, so she had to see-saw him into the bathtub, putting his front half in the warm water, then his back half. The dog hunched down, feet spread wide, and trembled. “It's okay,” she soothed, then turned to grab the glass off of the counter. Faster than she thought possible, the dog was out of the bathtub and sliding all over the slick floor. After a noisy few moments, the dog came to rest pressed tightly against her leg once more, moisture seeping through the leg of her jeans. She frowned. Is it really worth it? It freaks him out so bad. She stroked his back to soothe him, and felt the gritty dirt that had built up a whole apartment complex there. “Let's just get it over with, bud,” she said, resigned to her fate.
Once she got the dog back into the tub, keeping a hand on him as she stretched for the glass so he couldn't escape once more, Integrity dunked the glass in the warm water and poured it over his back. The dog lurched toward her, and only with difficulty was she able to keep him in the tub. He whined pitifully. “It's okay, I'm right here. Let's get this done, okay? It'll be over soon.” The dog visibly trembled and pressed closer to her, one paw sneaking out of the bathtub to seek contact. Looking down at her already splashed clothing, she sighed and hiked up the legs of her jeans. “Alright, alright.” She stepped into the water and sat on the edge of the tub. The dog pressed desperately against her, still shaking.
She bathed him as well as she could, considering she was very limited in mobility, had to constantly keep from being pushed over onto her back, and one pant leg had slid down into the water. The water was a murky brown color, and she decided the dog had been through enough for one day. She emptied the bathtub and let the dog jump out, knowing that if she tried to help him she'd only get in the way of his dangerously flailing feet. He promptly shook, and wet dog smell flew everywhere in the bathroom. Integrity dug a towel out from under the sink and began rubbing him dry. He arched his back in pleasure as she roughed the fur on his back. “Let's get you dry, boy. I need to shower now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Paul had returned with all the necessities for their new guest, along with far too many extra treats and toys. Upon his return, he had also announced that the dog should be named Kellin, after Helen Keller. When Integrity pointed out that Kellin was only blind, not blind and deaf, Paul had shrugged and said, “Well, he looks like a Kellin.”
That first night was interesting, as Kellin promptly ensconced himself directly on Integrity's pillow and then proceeded to play deaf and dumb when she tried to move him. She was prepared the next night with a pillow for Kellin's own use, and the additional rest she received rewarded her ingenuity amply.
The next morning, Paul was eagerly waiting for the pair as soon as they awoke. “Look! This fell out of the bag in the car last night.” He held up a bright green ball that made a tinkling sound when he shook it. “Isn't this cool?” he bubbled. “It makes noise so Kellin can follow it and find it.” Paul hunched over and rolled the ball gently across the floor. “Go get it, Kellin!”
Kellin scooted across the floor, his nose sweeping back and forth, until he touched the ball. He promptly picked it up, wagging his tail in pride, and pranced into the living room. Integrity walked to the fridge and pulled out the gallon of milk there. “You didn't think he had enough toys?” She nodded her head toward the floor littered with dozens of stuffed animals, ropes, and balls.
Paul shrugged. “This one was special.”
“Yeah, and just how much did that 'special' toy cost?” She pulled a bowl out of the cupboard and passed by Paul to get some cereal.
“More than I want to admit. But look! He loves it!”
Not completely immune to Paul's excitement, Integrity picked up her bowl of cereal and moved toward the living room. Milk sloshed over the side of her bowl as she burst into laughter. “Yeah, he really likes it! Or should I say liked?” Bright green pieces of plastic littered the floor as Kellin continued to happily destroy his newest toy.
Somewhat chagrined, Paul pushed past her. “I'll clean up the milk.”
Still laughing, Integrity said, “Don't bother. We have a wet/dry vac now.” She called Kellin over and, after she tapped her foot on the floor right by the milk for several seconds, he happily lapped up what she had spilled. “See? All better.”
It was later in the day when Integrity noticed the strange smell emanating from Kellin's left ear. When she looked inside, dark ear wax met her gaze. “Ew.” She grabbed some toilet paper and wiped out his ear. Kellin leaned into it like he enjoyed it, yet he yelped at one point, too. A small amount of blood was on the toilet paper when she removed it. “Hey, Paul, I think Kellin has an ear infection.”
Paul studied the ear, sniffed it, and frowned. “He needs to go to a vet.”
Bowman grunted. “Look at him. He's happy. He'll be fine.”
“Come smell his ear and tell me that,” Paul returned, slightly riled.
“Hey, it's all good, guys. He probably should be checked over, anyway, to make sure he's not sick,” Integrity interjected. “Will you drive me, Paul?”
“No way. You're not going.” Evan seemed to materialize from nowhere. “You're going to keep a low profile. I'll take the dog.”
Integrity felt suddenly uneasy. She wanted to ask if Evan would bring Kellin back, but he looked dangerous and she chickened out. Neither Paul nor Bowman were about to argue with Evan, so he silently gathered the leash and dog, and
left in the car. “You should have gone with him,” she muttered at Paul, unhappy with the situation.
“You know I couldn't go. You're the important person here. We're supposed to protect you, not some stray dog.” Paul sounded almost as testy as Integrity did, and she knew he was just as concerned about the situation as she was. Evan had never shown any real interest in the dog. What if he just dumped him somewhere? What if Evan got hungry?
Đ
Evan was gone for most of the day. Integrity and Paul grew increasingly short-tempered, and Bowman picked up on the attitude as a result. No one was speaking to anyone else when the car finally pulled up, the wheels crunching on the gravel. Paul and Integrity both rushed to the door, each trying to ignore the other.
Evan led the dog inside, being careful to not let Kellin crash into anything without putting forth much effort. He unhooked the leash and moved into the kitchen without speaking. Paul and Integrity both bent over Kellin, making a fuss over his awesomeness. When Kellin turned to Paul, Integrity, disgruntled, stalked off toward the kitchen to question Evan. He was studying a small white box he held in one hand. “So?” she asked, her bad attitude apparent in her voice. Evan ignored her completely, not even turning to look at her in acknowledgment of her existence, and moved toward the fridge. He opened the door and put the white box inside. “Evan, what did the vet say?” Anger was coursing through Integrity's muscles, making them tense. Still, the man ignored her. “Evan!” She reached forward and grasped his warm arm, trying to force him to turn to face her. He jerked his arm out of her grasp and turned to walk back to the living room. Integrity's stomach lurched and bile rose in her throat, threatening to overflow. Her vision blurred and she grasped the counter to keep from falling over. She vaguely felt Kellin bump into her leg and she reached down to put her hand on his head. She heard Paul ask, “Integrity? Are you okay?” The concern in his voice snapped her back to the present and she focused her gaze on the archway before her. She shoved herself away from the counter, pushing Kellin roughly out of the way, and rushed into the living room.
Integrity: Book One of the Destine Series Page 18