Caged

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Caged Page 10

by Amber Lynn Natusch


  “He was nice and all, but something, well…it just seemed off.”

  “Maybe you just need to spend more time with him,” he replied, moving closer to me.

  “No offense, but I don’t think I’ll be up for that anytime soon,” I choked out, literally coughing on the words. “What was up with that guy Duncan? He seems like a real dream.”

  “Like I said, some of the guys in the group are interesting, and when we’re all together things can get a bit out of hand,” he said while fidgeting with his shirt hem.

  “Right, but what was his deal? Why was he trying to start a fight?” I approached him, trying to steal his attention away from the shirt edge he was fraying.

  “He wanted you,” he said as his face met mine. The seriousness of his gaze made me think that he wasn’t referring to me being Duncan’s first choice for dance partner.

  “So he wanted me, so what? He was going to fight you for dibs?” I asked incredulously. “Do people actually do things like that?” Eric said nothing in response, but the look on his face was plain enough for even me to read. I’d hit the nail on the head. “So he fights you…then what? He wins and carries me off into the sunset? The nearest bedroom? There are laws against shit like that, you know?” I said, my voice raising.

  “Yes. I’m quite aware of human law,” was his only response.

  Human law?

  “Well, we’re not in Marty Stouffer’s Wild America, so human law would be what I’m referring to. Is Duncan some kind of sociopath or something?” I asked, stepping closer still.

  “No. He’s got an alpha personality. They see things a little differently than you do. He doesn’t see anything wrong with his behavior,” he said, staring at me with empty eyes.

  “Apparently, your friends don’t either, since they were all chomping at the bit to see what was going to go down. Hell, they were encouraging it!” I yelled.

  “This is what I’m trying to explain to you. The group… they’re not like normal people when they get together. They aren’t normal people.”

  “Well no offense to them, but I have no intention of going near those psychos again.”

  He made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded strangely like a low growl. His eyes glowed as if illuminated from the inside. Anger rolled off of him and crashed into me so hard that it physically knocked me over, and I stumbled back a step or two before regaining my composure.

  “They are not psychos,” he snarled, a tone I’d not heard from him before. “They are my brothers and sisters, and you will not insult them.”

  “Holy mood swing, Batman! I’m only trying to point out that they…”

  “Do you know why you have your blackouts, Ruby?” he asked calmly, hijacking my rebuttal. “Did your precious Sean ever tell you that? No, no I don’t think he did, did he?”

  I didn’t remember having told Eric about my blackouts, or how I’d been looking for answers to why they started. Sean knew I had them, but had never offered up any suggestions as to why, despite having a PhD in neurophysiology. Furthermore, I failed to see the relevance of the topic at that moment.

  “What are you talking about? What does this have to do with anything that happened last night?” I yelled, storming into the kitchen. I needed space. “You’re seriously starting to freak me out, Eric.” I cried as I slowly backed away from him towards the door. Seeing my fear, he eased his menacing nature.

  “But you do have blackouts, don’t you?” he pressed, following me into the tiny room.

  “Yes, but-“

  “And you only have blackouts after really stressful events, right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “And on rare occasion you wake up and don’t know where you or your clothes are, right?”

  “How did you know…” I trailed off, unable to speak, eyes widening.

  “Sometimes there’s blood on you, isn’t there?”

  I raised an extended index finger, indicating that only once that was true.

  He had moved so near me that the pull to him was there again, but it was so buried by fear that it was hardly noticeable.

  “You have no idea what you are, do you?” he asked, placing his hands on my shoulders and leaning his face against mine.

  “You’re one of us,” he whispered, as if that would mean something to me.

  I looked at him with a desperation so plain that I saw it reflected back to me in his eyes. I had no idea what he was talking about and my fear was building.

  “You’re a werewolf, Ruby.”

  I froze.

  “A what?” I asked, thinking I hadn’t heard him clearly. Surely he hadn’t just said I was a werewolf.

  “You’re a lycanthrope. A werewolf.”

  I didn’t know what to do. There was no proper course of action to take after being told, in all seriousness, that I was a mythical creature - an urban legend. It was more than I could bear. At first I tried to stifle the laugh that was building, but it boiled over. My body shook until I convulsed and broke out into full-on hysterics.

  “Are you high?” I wheezed between gasps for air. “Am I being Punked?” I tried to look at him, but his disapproving face was too much and only fueled my laughter. I walked back into the living room to try to pull myself together. “Nice way to ease the tension, Eric.”

  “This is not a joke, Ruby,” he said, clearly finding nothing humorous about the situation. He followed me out, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

  “‘This is not a joke, Ruby‘,” I mimicked. “You sure about that? ‘Cause it’s the funniest shit I’ve heard in years,” I shouted, still laughing so hard I was afraid I might pee a little.

  “You are!” he growled. “I can prove it!”

  “Stop, stop,” I cried as I rolled onto the floor holding my stomach. “It hurts…my abs hurt. Please, please show me Wolfman Jack. This I have to see.”

  I was curled up in pain from the workout he was giving my abs and it was almost physically impossible to stand up. I’d heard of laughing until it hurt, and I was getting a crash course in it. He started making a ruckus around me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look, too afraid that he was only going to fuel my laughter further. Neither my abs, nor my bladder, could have survived much more.

  This guy really wants to make up for last night…

  When I heard ripping sounds and occasional pops, I started to wonder what he was doing, but when he cried out in pain, I finally snapped my attention back to him. I immediately wished I hadn’t. What I saw was the best cure for the church giggles, ever.

  It was something that I couldn’t really have been seeing. My mind was on the verge of splintering into little pieces as it tried to wrap itself around those images. A very large and very furry beast was before me, and his name was Eric. Apparently he wasn’t as funny as I’d thought. My near pant-peeing experience evolved into a near pant-shitting one instead.

  The wolf’s eyes were a yellowy-gold, but the warmth of his original caramel color was still there. He stood proudly, intimidating me with his size and grandeur, making me wish I’d not been sprawled across the floor in hysterics prior to his change. His thick and luxurious fur was a rich brown, with the slightest hint of auburn to the tips, and his face had flashes of blond. He was absolutely beautiful.

  Without thinking, my hand reached out to touch him, wanting to run my fingers through his coat repeatedly. When he moved suddenly to close the distance between us, I snatched it back. He wasn’t exactly petting zoo material, unless maybe you were Stephen King. I scrambled backwards, pinning myself against the wall, my knees tucked tightly into my chest. As far as escape plans went, it sucked.

  I not-so-subtly worked my hand up along the wall, desperate to reach the doorknob, as he prowled towards me, panting. Once my hand found it, I grabbed the handle and torqued it down, using it to leverage my body off the floor all in one motion. I wedged myself through the partial opening, trying to slam the door behind me. As far as I knew, wolves didn’t have o
pposable thumbs, so I was banking on the werewolf species not having them either. Then I heard it click shut, immediately followed by a cracking sound. I watched in amazement as the door shuddered under the stress of his blows. It would not hold for long.

  Paralyzed by my fear, I stood and watched the door weaken under the constant assault. The wolf wanted out badly, and it appeared as though he would have his way come Hell or high water. I ran up the stairs towards the studio, hoping that if I could get there in time, I could lock myself in and then escape down the fire escape to the back alley. I was positive that he’d have to change form before trying to find me and by then I’d be long gone.

  As I rounded the corner on the landing to take the final flight up I heard the apartment door shatter below me. I scrambled faster to make it to my destination. With two steps to go, he was on me, but not in that Hollywood, figuratively-speaking sort of way. He was physically on top of me, having tackled me from behind, driving my lower half into the stairs while my upper body flopped onto the landing. I was just shy of the door I was so desperate to reach. I wrestled under his weight, trying to wriggle free and carry out my plan; my actions were the definition of futile. He pawed my shoulder, flipping me onto my back, all the while making sure that just enough of his body weight was kept on me to keep me from going anywhere. A massive head hung above me, breathing warm, damp air on my face. We were nose to muzzle.

  I couldn’t pick up on his energy. My empath gifts didn’t seem to cross the border between species, leaving me with no way of knowing what he wanted. What he was going to do. My only hope was that he would end it quickly and painlessly. I squeezed my eyes shut and tucked my head awaiting the killing blow.

  It never came.

  Instead, I received a slobbery salutation in the form of a full face lick. It was both utterly revolting, and unbelievably welcome. I squinted one eye open just enough to see the wolf hovering over me like a dog awaiting a command.

  WTF?

  I quickly came to the conclusion that I wasn’t about to die and it was the most excellent news for me. He nudged at me with his huge nose, urging me up the stairs and into the studio. I saw no harm in doing what he asked. As he let his weight off of me, I crab-walked on hands and feet up the remaining steps to the door, pushing myself up through a squat position so that my weight was against the door and my hands free. I thought it smart to be ready to defend myself, just in case.

  When he never made a move for me I reached back and turned the knob. His eyes never left mine. I wasn’t sure, but I thought he was assessing me. It wasn’t how a predator watches prey, but more curious and intellectual than that.

  I opened the door cautiously and stepped over the threshold backwards, leaving me facing him. He followed me, step for step, if I paused, so did he. It was a dance of sorts.

  He clearly sensed my unease with the situation, which made me wonder if wolves were just exceptionally astute, or if there was more going on in that particular wolf’s mind. I wanted to test out my theory.

  “I wonder if he’d follow me onto the fire escape? Most dogs hate open stairs,” I whispered, to myself as I turned my back on him to face the point of egress in question.

  I hadn’t even taken a step before I got my answer. A flash of fur blew through my periphery and landed directly in front of me, growling. Ruby 1, Wolf-Named-Eric 0.

  So it was clear that he understood me, and had impeccable hearing. Maybe it was still possible to get some answers out of him.

  “You understand me?” I asked.

  His head bobbled awkwardly up and down in an act of acknowledgment.

  “Can you talk?”

  He shook his head as though he’d gotten water on it.

  I pondered the situation for a moment. He could understand me, and answer direct yes/no questions, but details were going to be out of the question. The scenario wasn’t what I’d had in mind, but the evening as a whole was off-track, so I had to roll with it.

  I found myself unsure where to start. My original curiosity about his relationship with Sean took a backseat to the recent revelation of both Eric and myself being werewolves. I needed to know more. Much more, including how he knew what I was, what it meant, and if he knew anything about how to control my blackouts.

  “So…I’m a werewolf?”

  It wasn’t the most inventive start to the conversation, but I had to begin somewhere and the obvious seemed as good a place as any. He cocked his head to the side and stared at me with blank eyes. Taking the hint, I moved on to the next question.

  “Does it hurt?” I asked sheepishly, wondering if that was some werewolf taboo that I shouldn’t be bringing up. He inhaled deeply, then hung his head in submission and bobbed it up and down slightly, all the while letting out the faintest of whines.

  I instinctively reached for him. I didn’t like that his Change caused him pain. Without thinking, I lowered myself to the floor in front of him, leaving me face to muzzle. I ran my hands through the thick, wiry coat on his neck.

  “Shhhhhh,” I whispered. “It’s OK”.

  He nuzzled his nose in the crook of my neck, breathing heavily and warmly on me. Something in my blood ran so hot, so fast, that I thought I would burst into flames. I sprang backward away from him, not knowing what was going on or why he had such a strange effect on me, even while in canine form. I was already frustrated with the bullshit of asking yes and no questions, and wanted real answers.

  Like a good boy, he didn’t pursue my retreat.

  “Do you control your change?” I asked, still sitting on the hardwood floor.

  He wagged his head yes at me.

  “Is it dependent on the moon?”

  He made a horrible coughing/snorting sound while shaking his head. I thought at first that he was choking on something, then realized while looking into his eyes that he was actually laughing at me.

  “I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” I said, sneering at him. I didn’t like being laughed at by a wolf, or anyone else for that matter. It wasn’t really a dumb question, anyway.

  “I want you to change back now,” I commanded.

  His ears perked to attention and his head stood straight above his vast shoulders; he did nothing else in response.

  “NOW!” I screamed, hoping my anger would motivate him.

  He stomped back and forth with his front feet and snorted.

  With an eerily calm and controlled voice, I played the only card I had left.

  “Then I guess I’ll have to get Sean over here,” I purred. “Maybe he can answer some questions for me.”

  I started to get up and make my way to the door, but my progress was halted by a paralyzing growling sound. It stopped me dead in my tracks. Eric circled around to the front of me in a hunting prowl. He was facing me squarely, with his head sunk down just slightly below his shoulders. His eyes were permafixed on mine. When I tried to take another step, he snarled and snapped at me.

  “I gave you a choice. What will it be?” I asked, knowing that he could probably smell my fear and see right through my bravado. Much to my amazement, the growling stopped but his posture remained. He slowly inhaled, blowing it out in one sharp gust before he backed up a few paces, giving himself room, but never taking his eyes off of me.

  His fur raised all over his body, and slowly you could see the tiny tremors coursing through his body. They started small and subtle, like the faraway hum of a locomotive. Then they grew, and grew, until the wood floors creaked and vibrated beneath him and the mirrors that covered the walls of the studio shook. The violence of his seizure-like movements frightened me. Things began falling from the walls and shelves, and plaster rained down on me from the ceiling above.

  We never took our eyes off of each other.

  Just when he looked as though his body was going to tear itself apart, he snapped his head back and howled a cry that raised every hair on my body. The sudden release of energy into the room was electric. I, too, threw my head back, inhaling the power.

  Wh
en I slowly brought my attention back down to Eric, he lay silently on his side, naked and motionless. His body was dimly illuminated as most of the lights had blown out during his Change. The deeply defined muscles of his back were marked with shadowy lines, accentuating them, and his skin looked richer in the darkness.

  There was no blood, no fur, and no sound.

  I made my way to him slowly, as if afraid to wake him. I was worried that I had pushed him too far, and that maybe forcing him to Change so suddenly had harmed him, even killed him.

  I closed the distance quickly after that thought, and threw myself onto my knees behind him. With trembling hands, I reached for his shoulder. The second our skin touched he inhaled the breath of a drowning man, launching himself onto his back while propping up on his elbows behind him.

  His very human eyes locked on me, and I came undone.

  Without thinking I pounced on him, kissing with a passion that was driven by an inner being I’d never known existed. My enthusiasm was equally matched by his. Before I knew it, I was on my back with a very naked Eric atop me, trying very hard to apply his “clothing optional” policy to me as well.

  That seemed to clear my head.

  “Off…OFF!” I yelled as I wriggled to get out from under him. Somehow, the wriggling didn’t seem to improve the situation.

  He looked down at me with a predatory grin.

  “But on seems to be a much better fit, don’t you think?” he asked, kissing his way down my neck.

  “GET. OFF. OF. ME. NOW!” I said giving him a shove. It was like trying to move stone. His grin faded momentarily, as he pushed himself into a plank position above me.

  “Whatever you need…” he said, voice trailing off at the end.

  I flipped around like a fish out of water for a few seconds trying to regain control of my body and get it quickly away from his. My eyes squinted so as not to take in the view I was being given.

 

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