Caged

by J. A. Belfield

  Four more elevations took me to the edge of the top step and adjacent to the archway. I peeked around the frame so only my eyes and forehead would be visible to anyone within, but I needn’t have worried. The desk sat unoccupied, and no actions stirred the air. Of course, someone could have been hiding just out of range—again—but I’d never know if I didn’t venture farther inside.

  Holding my breath for fear of being heard, I moved into the doorway, giving myself a wider view of the room.

  Still nothing.

  If the room held someone, they were doing a mighty fine job of remaining concealed, but I couldn’t wait any longer—not if I didn’t want Kyle performing a search and rescue.

  I stepped into the room.

  A rapid left and right twist of my head revealed no hidden surprises, and my held breath seeped out past my lips.

  At my beckon, Brook joined me in one soundless leap.

  “It’s empty?” she whispered. When I nodded, she asked again, “Where are they all?”

  “Beats me.”

  “Do you not think getting in here has been a little too easy?”

  Yes. Definitely. “I’m not going to complain when it means we should be in and out of here faster.”

  “Where are we looking?”

  “Drawers. Shelves … under loose floorboards.” I pointed to the nearest corner, where an alcove provided the only part of the left wall not made up of glass. “I’ll take those filing cabinets.”

  “It is duly noted that you took the easy spot,” she murmured as I strode off.

  The top drawer slid over runners at the volume of a freight train.

  I froze before I’d even drawn it out four inches, my brows scrunching as I winced. I glanced back at Brook, who stood stock still with wide eyes aimed my way.

  The lift of my hands and shoulders sent a silent apology, and I turned back to try again. Five, scarily-loud seconds later, I peered into the contents.

  As I’d hoped, dividers kept everything in some sort of order, each tab across the top a label of explanation.

  I flipped through them. Accounts, by the looks of it, or the bookkeeping files for the tabs and placed bets. I slid out a thick bound book, leafed through the pages.

  Each and every wager listed inside had the date of placement, followed by a singular name—surname, I presumed.

  “Found something?”

  At Brook’s whisper, I held up the book. “Betting records.”

  “So, we can go now?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not enough—not without addresses to accompany the names. Keep looking.”

  I placed the evidence on top of the cabinet, and reached down for the middle drawer, cringing once more at the noisy opening, but too impatient with the time ticking away to bother with subtlety.

  I held my breath a moment.

  The quieting of shuffled items at my far right told me Brook did the same.

  When no footsteps approached, I reached in and dragged out file after file, placing them on top of the book with the intent to check out their importance later.

  On the verge of closing the drawer, a dark blur waltzed into my periphery.

  I snapped my head round in time to see what the lack of scent made me miss.

  A vampire—one I didn’t recognise.

  Pale chestnut hair, tall and slender frame, he halted on the huge patterned rug, his attention on the shifter. “Brook?”

  If he knew of my presence tucked away in the alcove, he showed no sign of it.

  Brook whirled to the new arrival.

  Slowing my breathing, and hopefully my heartbeat, I stayed as still as possible.

  A dark glower entered the cat’s stare, rendering her golden eyes a rustic bronze, but no verbal acknowledgement arrived from her—only the fisting of her hands.

  “What are you doing up here?” Suspicion dripped from the intruder’s tone.

  When Brook still didn’t speak, the vampire’s head twisted to his right, to the opposite corner I stood in, before making a slow return as though he searched for answers elsewhere.

  Brook stared at him in silence. I expected his attention to stay on her once they reconnected, but when his head continued toward the left, my heart nearly galloped in the realisation that if he looked far enough around he’d spot me straight away.

  I tensed, waiting for the inevitable. My knees bent ready to spring as my fingers curled to form the only weapons I had.

  Three more inches, and he’d see me.

  “I was summoned,” Brook said in a harsh murmur.

  He halted, turned back to her. “She speaks.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Not quite sure I like the tone, but it’s a start.”

  Brook’s jaw bulged beneath the grind of her teeth. “What do you expect?”

  My eyes narrowed at the venom in her tone. What the hell am I missing here?

  “You’re still annoyed with me. I see that …” He couldn’t have sounded more condescending.

  Ducking lower, I took a tentative step forward and hoped like crazy Brook could keep her poker face in place.

  “… but how else would I have gotten you away from your clinging posse of Tomcats, otherwise?” he continued.

  “The very role of those Tomcats is to protect me from scum like you, Paul.”

  Another step forward took Brook’s expression of fury from my view. I didn’t think then was the time to ponder over the fuel behind their discussion, especially when I had a chance of reaching ‘Paul’ undetected.

  “Well, I guess they aren’t very good at their job, then … seeing as you’re here.” His head tilted to the side; I paused with my right foot lifted in mid-step. “Speaking of which … who exactly summoned you?”

  Without hesitation, she answered, “Catherine,” the name spitting from Brook like the vampire had trodden on her tail.

  Paul’s head straightened as did his entire posture as he stood tall. “When, exactly, as Catherine has been with me for the past two hours …”

  Three more tiptoed steps took me directly behind Paul.

  “And more to the point, why the hell would you be in here … alone?” His right hand shot out to grip Brook’s arm, and his yank shook her entire body.

  She didn’t resist, simply accepted his mauling—I presumed for fear of drawing attention to me.

  I strode the last two paces until Paul had no choice but to acknowledge the body heat at his rear.

  The jolt of his shoulders preceded the whip up of his head, and his forward shove sent Brook to the floor an instant before he started to turn.

  I didn’t wait for him to see me before reaching around, grabbing his head in both hands and twisting it in a rapid jerk to the right.

  With the crack of bone, his body went limp.

  After lowering him to the rug to avoid unnecessary thuds, I stepped over to help Brook up. “You okay?”

  Her eyes shone with what looked like suppressed tears as she nodded and took the hand I offered.

  “Good. Then let’s grab what we have and get the hell out of here before somebody stumbles across your boyfriend.”

  28

  Luckily, we made it back downstairs and to the window undeterred—over which, I didn’t know whether to be elated or concerned. Brook climbed through first, and I handed her the bundle of files bound with a rubber band in her hand as I followed.

  “What now?” she asked, as I straightened. “Do you have any more antics you want to try before we make our escape?”

  “Nope.” I cocked my brow at her. “Now … we’re going to run like crazy. You ready?”

  In response, she slammed the roll of papers against my abdomen and bolted toward the moat, leaving me no option but to pursue and try not to get lashed by her tra
iling dark strands.

  The parting air bristled every hair on my face as I cut through it. Each muscle in my legs groaned in complaint over the sudden demands placed upon them. Brook’s erupted speed had given her a head start, but it didn’t take long for me to gain the ground she’d made, and the moat sat less than fifty feet in front of us by the time I reached her shoulder.

  At thirty feet to go, I tucked the papers into the back of my waistband and glanced her way. “You like to fly, Brook?”

  “Sometimes,” she said with her gaze still on the path we ran. “But only first class.” She covered a few more paces, her breaths showing the initial sign of strain. “Why?”

  “Because …” I double checked my estimation of fifteen feet to go. “… that’s the quickest way to get you over this moat.”

  “What?”

  I whipped my arms to the right, grasped hold of her hips, and yanked her in front of me. “Hurt me later.” I pushed off the dry embankment with my left foot, and with a forward thrust of my arms, sent Brook sailing in front of me.

  “Etha—” Her quiet screech fizzled out into a trailing hiss, and her arms wind-milled for a second before she gathered control. She hit the other side in a crouch, diving upright into another run as my own feet slammed down beside her vacated spot.

  Another couple hundred metres whizzed by before our paces slowed to a jog. I folded my fingers around Brook’s arm and drew her to a halt.

  She bent at the waist, breaths heaving, hands resting on her knees, leaving me wholly grateful the length of her hair did a fine job of covering key parts of her body. “Do we … even know … which direction the … others have gone?”

  I shook my head and rubbed a hand across the back of my neck where sweat had begun a slow saturation of my skin. “That’s why we’ve stopped,” I said, scouring the land, “so I can take a moment to pick up their scent.”

  She dropped down to all fours, her nostrils flaring, eyes closing as she pushed her face forward in a very feline gesture. I squatted beside her, more than able to detect earlier scents without nuzzling my nose into the ground, inhaling as I searched every rise, every shade other than green, any potential trees.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  With the subtle concoction of the rest of our party detected, I said, “We need to go west a little because that’s where their scents are drifting from.”

  She pushed up as I did and reached around to my back pocket, coming away with the T that still hung from there. “Should be safe for me to put this on now, yes?”

  “Let’s hope so,” I said before setting off.

  • • •

  I could only guess the others had hit the far side of the moat, then reconvened and ran like hell, because they’d covered a lot more ground than I’d anticipated. Either that, or we’d spent far longer in Catherine’s office than I thought.

  The rolled up proof we’d collated stuck up from my jeans waistband and scratched against my back with each step I jogged. Every once in a while, we paused and hunched down to be sure we still followed the trail. Around twenty-five minutes of tracking later, once we’d hit the first signs of vegetation and the landscape had begun to change, gurgles and bubbles entertained us and a stream came into view.

  Grey rock jutted out, and weeds stood high and proud as though in protection. To our right, trees and brush grew in greater abundance on the far side of the stream. A glance to the left showed the slow upward rise of a hill, down which the stream gushed.

  Coming to a pause at the six-foot-wide obstacle, my nostrils flared.

  “Do you smell them?” Brook asked from a lowered position. “I don’t smell them beyond a foot or two before the water.”

  “Me either.” I peered down at her. “How far can you jump unassisted?” My energy had waned, and I doubted I’d get Brook over with the same ease as earlier.

  “You think they crossed the river? All of them?”

  “Well, it stands to reason if all of their scents end here.”

  She glanced across the river and walked backward a dozen steps. “Six-seven feet is not a problem. Nor would the moat have been had you given me a chance to prove it.”

  I joined her for the run up, and with a race for the edge, we made our second leap of the hour.

  Pain jolted through my weary limbs on impact with the opposite bank and forced a grunt from my throat. Brook stumbled forward before regaining her footing, managing gracefulness even for that. Still close to the ground, knees bent from absorbing my landing, the scents that had vanished on the other side hit me with full force.

  I turned to Brook with a smile as she faced me with one of her own. “Definitely came this way,” I said, as she murmured, “It smells as though you were right.”

  Our heads snapped up at a whistle to the left. I followed the sound along the incline of the hill, through rocks and boulders until I found Kyle’s ginger mop atop his grinning face.

  Gathering a burst of energy from somewhere deep inside me, I climbed up to his spot faster than I’d have thought possible. Catherine said we’d been captive two days, and that had been, what? The day before? One meal—if it could be called that—in no way sufficed to fuel a werewolf over that time period.

  Hell, a human male would have struggled without more sustenance than we’d had.

  My chest heaved beneath laboured breaths, and the first waves of dizziness had kicked in by the time I rounded the apex to the others.

  Gabe halted his frantic pacing and turned on me, his hands fisted in his curls. “Wh-what took you long?”

  “We were interrupted.”

  Kyle as well as Samuel stared at me. “They know we’re out already?” Kyle asked.

  “We don’t think so—or at least, not when we left.” Brook brushed past me and sank onto the grass beside Lauren. “Pau—one of the vampire’s … caught us searching Catherine’s office, and I … distracted him, whilst Ethan crept up behind—”

  “Tell me you broke his neck instead of rolling around like a couple of lovers,” Kyle said, his eyebrow raised.

  “I did.” I slid the thick bundle from my waistband, waving it toward him. “Before you ask, I went back in for these. Records of the fight spectators.” A glance through them had confirmed my hopes. “So we now know who everyone is and where they live. Should make cleaning this mess up a whole heap easier.”

  Kyle’s grin returned, and even Gabe produced the closest I’d seen to a genuine smile. “Well, we have some good news, too,” Kyle said. “Which is why we only came this far and paused for you two to catch up.”

  I lifted my hands, shrugging in a ‘well, what is it?’ gesture when he didn’t spit it out right away.

  “Civilisation.” He poked his thumb at the air over his shoulder. “A cottage around a mile away in the valley.”

  • • •

  Drinking from the natural spring offered enough refreshment to get us down the other side of the hill, and our exhausted and staggering party trailed through feathered brushes that hit my ankles with a sharpness their appearance belied.

  Beyond the farmhouse, the low rumble of an engine droned away. The glances I received from Kyle assured me he’d caught it, too. We continued, though, if only because a property would undoubtedly have a road leading from it, which I hoped could give us an indication of our location.

  Outhouses decorated the barren ground up to the main property. The doors stood open on the first one we reached. Within, tools lined the left wall, on hooks or shelving, and stall after stall stretched opposite them. Although it obviously had the setup to house livestock, the oil patches that dotted the un-uncluttered floor led me to believe we’d stumbled across a tractor shed, and that maybe said tractor held the deep engine we heard.

  From there, we squat-ran across to building number two and slipped inside the partia
lly closed doors, yet backed out just as fast when the goats in there kicked up a screech of alarm as though they’d smelled the predators in our group.

  The third barn lacked the wooden sides of its neighbours, but in their place, walls of haystacks enclosed the interior, providing us with invisibility from the farmhouse, and also warmth and shelter with somewhere semi-comfortable to sit.

  We rounded the front, and I ushered Lauren before me with the intention of settling her barely-standing body down for a few minutes. At the opening of a door at the main house, all six of us froze.

  The small woman that stepped outside halted the instant our gazes met. She stared for seconds. I didn’t like to think about how the hell we must have looked to her. Less than half of us could be consider fully dressed, and only one of us had shoes. On top of that, apart from Lauren, who couldn’t have looked any more terrified if a bull charged toward her, we all stood poised as though ready to pounce.

  “Can I help yeh?” the woman asked at last.

  “Want me to sort this?” Kyle asked out the corner of his mouth.

  “Sure, swing your oscillating dick over there, and see how long you last before she runs screaming for the authorities.” I turned to Samuel—the least battered and best presented of us all besides Lauren. “Show’s yours.”

  “No problem.” He marched forward, leaving the rest of us huddled together like goodness knew what, and sent chickens scattering from the yard like the Red Sea had parted for Moses. A few feet in front of the female, he stopped. “Hey, sorry to trespass, but … we’re hikers, and we … got lost—you know how it is.” He shrugged before tucking his hands into his pockets. “Couple of my friends are … the worst for wear.”

  The woman’s face appeared as she leaned and peered round him at us. “Yer friends all look a lot worse than that, lovey. What on earth happened to all their clothes?”

  Samuel’s hand withdrew from his pocket, and he rubbed it across his matted hair. “Rocks ‘round here are sharper than they look.”

  If I hadn’t been so tense, I’d have laughed at his ridiculous explanation.