Unleashed

by McClellan, Rachel

  Another dose.

  She couldn’t hold back the pleasurable sigh escaping from her lips. Just thinking about the way it had made her feel calmed her racing heart. She wished it didn’t.

  Claire slipped into the room, hoping the only reason for her action was to protect Kate and Steph, and not because she wanted relief from the pain in her heart.

  "How very brave," Gage said, his voice low. He moved out from within the shadows, but the darkness seemed to stretch with him.

  "Step into the moonlight," she said.

  He took one long step until he was standing inches from her. She looked up into his eyes, searching for any signs of someone she might love. "Who are you really?"

  "I'm your Savior," he said as he pressed a needle into her neck.

  She fought against him for just a moment, before her eyes rolled back, and when she fell, Gage caught her and slowly lowered her to the ground, cradling her in his arms.

  "It will all be over soon," he said as he caressed her face.

  Claire barely heard him over the explosion of pain in her head. It spread throughout her whole body and she shook violently. In its wake came darkness, much like the shadow that had been clinging to Gage. It coated her insides like a cold winter frost, numbing all the years of hurt and betrayal. The storm calmed. She looked up at Gage and smiled.

  "You want to get out of here?"

  "Please."

  He helped her up and motioned to the window. "After you."

  She hesitated for a fraction of a second to listen to a familiar voice whispering a warning in the back of her mind. But the voice was small. And weak.

  Claire easily ignored it and leapt from the window. She ran into the forest and was greeted by a heavy fog. It wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

  Gage caught up to her moments later. He pulled her to a stop. "How do you feel?"

  "Like I’ve been plugged in. It's amazing! The stars, the air," she spun around, "the earth. I just want to," she struggled to find the right words, "eat it all gone." She laughed. "Does that make sense?"

  His eyes burned with passion, a fire she felt too. "I couldn't have said it better,” he said. “Come on. Let's go do whatever we want." He took off running and Claire followed.

  When they reached the street, Gage stopped and looked around. "Over there," he said. She followed his gaze. An old, black restored Ford Mustang was parked in someone's driveway. She grinned.

  Gage went to it and smashed his fist through the backside window. He unlocked it. "Get in."

  She obeyed and watched while he pulled off the panel beneath the steering wheel and began to mess with wires. A moment later the engine roared to life.

  "Nice," she said and swept her hair to the side. She noticed it was darker, blacker.

  Gage peeled out of the driveway, spitting gravel in all directions, and sped down the road.

  "Where we going?"

  "Somewhere loud and crowded. I'm itching for some action."

  "I can handle that."

  Thirty minutes later he illegally parked in front of The Hole. The place was packed, more so than last time. Music spilled onto the streets and into the line of people waiting to get inside. A tall bouncer with muscles practically bursting from his tight t-shirt came toward Gage when they exited the car.

  "Hey!" the bouncer said. "You can't park there."

  "Keep it,” Gage said and attempted to pass by him, but the man placed a fist (Claire thought it looked more like a bear paw) against his chest.

  "Where do you think you're going?" the bouncer said.

  Gage took hold of his hand and twisted it back. "We are getting in there. Do you understand?"

  The bouncer should've been worried about his hand, but he seemed more frightened by the look in Gage's eyes. "Do whatever you want, man," he choked out.

  “Don’t worry. We will.” Gage took hold of Claire's arm and pulled her up the stairs. With her free hand, she waved at the line of people shouting protests at them and walked inside.

  The club was exactly what she needed right now—loud, dark, and full of smells that excited the brain. Several lights, high on the ceiling, twisted and turned, spraying light into the darkness. Wherever it touched, Claire caught snap shots of moving body parts: an arm twisting, a leg bouncing, a couple kissing. It was as if she’d walked into a den of nocturnal animals full of pheromones.

  The music changed just then, the beat pulsing fast, matching the rate of her heart. Claire pushed her way through hormone-crazed men and women to the center of the club. She jumped up and down, her fist punching into the air, her mind melting into the chaos around her.

  Arms came around her waist and a body pressed against hers, moving with her, no longer up and down, but swaying left and right. She knew it was Gage by the strength of his grip. A normal girl would've cried out in pain, but Claire wasn't normal anymore. She laughed at the thought, and dropped her head back to Gage's shoulder. He turned his head and snaked his tongue up and down her neck.

  Claire squirmed to face him. The look in his eyes should've frightened her, but instead it thrilled her. She danced around him, swaying her hips, pressing against him, hands sliding up and down his body.

  They continued this foreplay for almost an hour, challenging even the worst of the public display offenders. She thought of Ethan, and wondered why she felt no love for him. Maybe to rid one’s self of sorrow and pain, love had to be abandoned, too. And in that moment, with Gage next to her, she was fine with that.

  Finally, Claire stepped away, breathing heavily. Gage had the look of a hungry lion, and he moved to grab her again, but she knocked his hand away. "I'm thirsty," she said.

  "And?"

  "And I want a drink."

  Gage remained where he was standing, and she could practically see the battle warring in his head as if he couldn’t stand being told what to do, even by her. Finally, he said, "Fine. I'll be right back, but you better give me something when I return."

  She nodded her head once.

  Gage disappeared in between dancing couples. As soon as she lost sight of him, she turned around and continued to dance, eyes closed. The music felt alive to her, more intense. It was as if the musical notes had somehow become a part of her.

  "A girl like you shouldn't be dancing alone."

  She opened her eyes.

  A man with a receding hair line and sweat dripping off his face moved closer, jerking his body in an awkward dance move no one should ever attempt.

  "Get lost," she said.

  "Feisty one, eh? I dig that." The man put his hands behind his head and began to thrust his hips in her direction.

  Claire felt like hitting him so she did. When she heard the sound of his nose breaking, she was surprised and looked down at her balled fist.

  "What the—"

  She hit him again to shut him up. And to test her strength. He stumbled back into a crowd of people and then fell to the ground. She kicked him in the stomach, completely flipping him over. If only she could’ve been this strong when she had hit Corey.

  "Feels good, doesn't it?" Gage said from behind her.

  She turned around and took the glass out of his hand. "I'm bored." She downed the pink liquid.

  He took her hand. "Let's go then. There's a whole world waiting for us."

  Several hours later Claire and Gage sat in an open boxcar, their legs dangling a few feet above train tracks.

  "It's getting light," he said.

  Claire looked up. The black was fading, much like the drug in her system. Flashes of painful emotions were beginning to break through the numbness. They hurt. She tossed a can of spray paint into the side of a brick warehouse.

  "It sucks going back, doesn't it?" he said. "It doesn't have to be that way, you know."

  Claire jumped from the boxcar. "I know." She picked up an empty beer bottle and threw it into the brick wall. And then another. The shatter of glass, exploding into a million pieces, didn't make her feel any better. She turned around lo
oking for something else to throw. The obscene pictures spray painted on the side of the train reminded her of all the horrible things she and Gage had done. She tried to block it out, but her growing emotions refused to be ignored.

  "One more dose, Claire." Gage tossed the beer bottle in his hand.

  An image of Ethan appeared in her mind. "Do you have one with you?" Her heart felt like it was going to break.

  He shook his head. "But I'll leave it for you."

  "Soon," she said.

  Gage jumped from the boxcar and took her in his arms. "All your pain will go away forever, I promise. And if you want revenge, no prison walls will keep us out."

  She nodded, liking that idea very much.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Using another stolen car, Gage dropped off Claire in the woods behind her house. She snuck back into her room and quietly went into the bathroom where she threw up several times, trying hard not to wake Kate or Steph. She couldn’t believe the way she’d acted, making out so heavily with Gage, destroying property, and stealing cars. The guilt weighing on her was like nothing she'd ever felt before, and she'd give anything to erase the memories of the night’s events forever. Her heart ached for Ethan. She loved him. Really loved him and didn't want to forget that love or ruin it either.

  She slumped down on the cold tile floor for a long time until she heard a knock on the door.

  "Claire? You in there?" Kate said.

  "Yeah."

  "I need to go."

  "One sec." She quickly wiped at her eyes with the back of her hands. She hated the position she was in. She didn't want the pain, but she didn't want Gage either.

  "I really gotta go," Kate said again.

  Claire sniffed and smoothed her hair back. "Done." She opened the door.

  Kate snuck by her and closed the door.

  Steph was still asleep in the living room. Claire glanced at the clock. Almost eight. She returned to her room and climbed in bed. She stayed there even when Kate tried to get her to come out for breakfast, even when her friends left, and even when Logan showed up a minute later.

  "I don't feel good, Logan," she said, her back to him.

  "What did you guys do last night?"

  "Girl stuff." She felt sick. She wanted to throw up again.

  He sat on the side of her bed and rubbed her back. "You can talk to me, you know that right?"

  "No."

  Logan sighed. "Then I'll prove it somehow."

  "I wish you could.” More words stung her tongue so she said them. "I hurt, Logan, and I don't know who can help."

  She almost cried then, but held on. She might be crying to the enemy and she didn't want Gage to see.

  Logan laid down in the bed next to her and put his arm around her. "Soon, Claire. You'll know the truth. I don't know if I can protect you or not, but at least you'll know who you can trust."

  "And that's enough." Her shoulders relaxed and within minutes she was asleep.

  What felt like hours later, Claire finally opened her eyes. She was alone in her room. Sounds from the kitchen slid in through the cracked door. By the light coming from her window she guessed it was some time in the late afternoon.

  She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and sat up. Gage's face flashed in her mind, and she grabbed her head. She saw again what they had done. To others. To each other. Her stomach churned.

  Claire peeked down the hallway into the living room. Ethan had his back to her, cooking something on the stove. He must’ve replaced Logan. She snuck into the bathroom and closed the door quietly. How could she face him? What would she say?

  Those questions plagued her while she showered, and by the time she was finished, she decided not to tell him anything. Not until she discovered Gage’s identity.

  When she stepped out of the tub, she felt a little better. Gage's touch no longer plagued her skin like a disease, but he'd infected more than just her skin.

  After she dressed and brushed her wet hair, she grabbed the gun hiding under several rolls of toilet paper and stuffed it behind her back. She took a deep breath, avoided looking in the mirror, and forced a smile. Everything's fine. Don't think about how you're going to have to kill someone you love, she thought. Just figure out who it is first, then worry about pulling the trigger.

  She opened the door. Ethan heard and rushed down the hallway and swooped her up. "It's so good to see you. I was worried the whole time."

  Claire embraced him back, wishing to stay in his arms forever. If they weren't the arms of a killer. "How was your family thing?"

  He let her go and pulled her into the kitchen. "Uneventful. Boring. So you girls must’ve had some night. You've been sleeping all day."

  "Yeah."

  "Sit down. I made you a sandwich." He set it in front of her and waited. When she didn’t say anything, he said. "So after Logan left, I called Kate and she said you guys crashed before midnight. So what's really going on? Why the vampire sleep?"

  She picked up her sandwich and took a small bite. "Maybe I'm coming down with something.”

  Ethan pulled out a chair and sat down next to her. "Are you sure it’s not something else?"

  "Like what?"

  He grabbed a nearby newspaper and began to tear at the paper. It seemed like he wanted to talk about something, but didn’t know how to bring it up. Finally he said, "I talked to Logan for a while before he left. He was acting really weird."

  She swallowed, forcing the chewed bread to her stomach. "How so?"

  He looked at her, his eyes sad. "Look, I know he's your best friend, and I hate talking bad about him, but—”

  "Just spit it out already.”

  "He threatened me," Ethan said. "He said if I touched you, he'd kill me."

  Claire said nothing. A white drop of mayonnaise oozed from the sandwich and onto the paper plate.

  "I wasn’t going to say anything," he said, "but I think," he took a deep breath, "that Logan may be Gage. It's the only thing that makes sense."

  "No it's not," she said and stabbed at the processed bread with her finger.

  "Who else could it be?” He glanced down. “And why are you destroying the sandwich I made you?"

  She licked her finger and stood up. "None of it matters. It's either you or Logan, and one of you wants to unleash me."

  Ethan stood up too. "Me? You actually think it could be me? I would never, couldn't—"

  "Whatever. I've accepted my fate. I can't run. Can't hide. Can't fight. I just wish one of you would tell me the truth."

  He took her by the shoulders. "Look at me, Claire. It's not me. I love you."

  "I've been hurt by people who claimed to love me before. Those words mean nothing."

  Ethan’s eyes widened. "What can I say or do to make you believe me? Please? I would never hurt you!"

  Claire searched his eyes. She wanted to believe him, and even though she wrapped her arms around him, she wasn't a fool. But how could she lure Gage out?

  Ethan returned her hug, and his muscles relaxed.

  She kept thinking, searching for ways to trap Gage. And then a thought occurred to her. "You know," she said, leaning away from him. "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad." She returned to the table and sat down.

  "What?"

  She picked up the mutilated sandwich and took a bite. "Being unleashed. I could do whatever I want. No remorse. No more pain." She kept her eyes on him, watching his reaction.

  Ethan joined her at the table and took her hand. "You read Bodian’s report, Claire. You may not experience pain, but you also wouldn’t feel love either. For anything or anyone. Do you really want that?"

  She shrugged. "Don't you think it would be nice though, not to suffer anymore?"

  He let go of her hand and leaned back into the chair, thinking. "Sometimes I don’t like my life. My parents and I don't have the best relationship, but I think that’s normal. I hope anyway. But their weaknesses and mine, only strengthens my love for other things, like you. It’s the bad in my life that helps
me to know what kind of man I want to be.” He looked past her, out the window. “This drug of Bodian's, it comes at too high of a price. One should never give up the right to love or be loved. Not only that," he leaned forward and took her hand, "but the drug turns you into something dark and evil. How could you want that?"

  "Because the alternative is just as scary."

  He shook his head. "You can't mean that."

  It was her turn to look out the window. "I don't know if I do or don't. There's so much going on in my head right now. I can't make sense of what's real and what's not."

  Ethan touched her cheek tenderly and turned her face toward him. "What we have is real, Claire. I feel it inside me, and I know you do too, but you're scared. Gage has made you question your strength. It's like he's made you forget your purpose or something."

  "My purpose?"

  "You said it once, but I don't think you realized you said it out loud. You said ‘keep fighting’.”

  She looked at him, really looked.

  "It was that night at your house, after Gage first attacked you. That’s when I realized how strong my feelings were for you. I was trying to tell you this when I saw you check out. I kept talking, but you were somewhere else. And then you touched your necklace,” he reached up and held the raven pendant between his fingers, “and whispered those words. That's when I realized how much you must've gone through, and how strong you must be to keep fighting." He lowered his hand.

  Her pulse raced and she sucked in a great big breath, but when she let it out it was sputtering with emotion. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, trying to keep the tears from falling.

  "It's okay,” he said. “This is all going to be over soon. I'm going to find proof that it’s Logan, and then we'll drop him off a cliff."

  He smiled like he was joking, but she knew he was very serious.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Two days later Claire was sitting in third hour, resting her head on her hand. Her math teacher, Mr. Gomez, had just handed out a pop quiz, which she finished shortly after. Math was something she liked because numbers didn’t lie. They couldn’t hide behind kind expressions or flattering words; they only spoke the truth.