by T. F. Walsh
“Yours?”
“Yes, that woman’s mine,” There was tension again in his voice, his back, his arms — his entire body was tight with it. “I ask again, what do you think I’m likely to do?”
“Commander,” Torin stuttered, finally losing his sense of confidence, growing angry. “Can you not see that it is you who has made the mistake? Pardon me, sir, but this is not a woman. This bitch is merely in heat, and her kind has a strong power. You’ve been lusting after her, but don’t be fooled. She will betray you. She will betray all of us.”
“I do try to be patient, but you have touched her long enough. If you don’t remove your hands from her body right now, I will drain you. I already want to see your head ripped from your miserable neck. I am beginning to think it necessary to satisfy myself. Get your hands off of her now.”
Torin would not release her. Libby could read his thoughts clearly, and they were now turned toward saving Caleb from her. He was planning on killing her.
“Now!” Caleb yelled, the word ripped angrily from his throat in a scream that was all the more terrifying because of how calmly he had been speaking seconds before. Caleb’s body twitched, his muscles rippled, not from action or movement, but from within. Was he going to shift here?
Torin finally took a step away from her, but his knife was still poised near her neck. Did he think that not touching her was enough, that he could still hold a knife against her? It was either that, or that he thought she was such a danger to the vampires that her death might be worth his own.
“Are you playing with me?” Caleb’s voice grew darker still, and he had started to smile, his teeth bared gleefully, unnaturally. “I have told you to leave her alone, yet you continue to threaten her? Fine. So be it.” He laughed, but it wasn’t Caleb laughing.
He lunged forward, moving so quickly she did not see him. She only felt the air move around her as he whisked past her. Within seconds, she felt, more than she understood, Torin’s absence. She heard a crash behind her, and turning to look, saw that in the past few seconds, Caleb had grabbed Torin and pulled him to the opposite wall, several feet from where she was.
Caleb was leaning against the vampire, his nose touching the hair near his nape. There was a twisted smile on Caleb’s face, a smile that changed him. An energy swirled around him, thickly, churning the air to the point that pure power flowed around the two vampires, moving like wind, whirling gray dust and rubble around them both.
“This will be fun. I haven’t played in a while,” Caleb whispered to Torin almost lovingly. Dust and rock swirled around them, circling the two men. At first, the air seemed to caress Torin, playing over his face. Then the dust grew dense and collected around Torin’s body. Starting around his neck, the dust drew around his shoulders, then slithered around his body, gathering and gathering, stroking him in slow passes. Torin’s eyes were wide with fear, but he was almost smiling, excited.
His eyes were glazed. “My king,” he whispered.
“I’m really going to enjoy this. We both are. I haven’t fed in a while. Thank you.” Caleb sounded calmer now, but his voice was still deepened, more threatening than Libby had ever heard it. It wasn’t really Caleb’s voice, was it? Was this the wolf talking through him? Could wolves do that? What was happening?
“Caleb?” she asked quietly.
He didn’t move. It was almost as though he could not hear her.
She called more loudly, “Caleb, please.”
His attention shifted for a brief second, and he shot one fast and quickly assessing glance her way. His eyes were changed. They were yellow, nearly glowing, and his face was twisted into a grimace, smiling in a way that was impossible for normal human faces. It was too far stretched, too many of his teeth were exposed in a strangely manic grin. When she did not speak again, Caleb returned his attention to the other vampire, leaning closer into the vampire’s neck, sniffing him, and inhaling slowly and deeply, as though he appreciated what he found there.
Looking up into Torin’s face, Caleb said, in that voice again, “I bet you taste good. Don’t you think you will? You know, blood gets sweeter the deeper you drink. Did you know that? I wonder how sweet you’ll get.” Then he laughed softly, chuckling at his own humor.
This was not Caleb. Caleb never laughed or smiled, and he certainly would never take joy in something like this. What was happening? Wolf males did not act like this. There were no partial shifts, no possessions. It was man or wolf.
What was happening to Caleb?
Chapter 20: HEROINES
“Caleb?” Libby asked again, hoping to wake him up, hoping to wake them both up from this nightmare.
But Caleb did not respond. Instead, he moved closer to Torin, resting his lips against the vampire’s neck. He opened his mouth, closed his eyes, moving to bite.
“Don’t, Caleb!” Libby called out to him, begging him to stop, but his eyes remained closed, and he continued drinking. Standing up on shaking legs, she ran to him and tried to pull him away, hoping that touching him would break the spell he was under, but he growled at her. He didn’t let go of Torin or even relax his grip. He had found his prey and would not let go.
Was this the bloodlust of the vampire? She had heard that a vampire could not be distracted after it found its prey. Was it possible that he was possessed by his vampire nature? Or was all of this the effect of the wolf inside of him? She had seen men of her pack behave this way, their animal sides, driving out all other thoughts. Either way, he was under the control of something besides himself and could not stop on his own. Libby had to find a way to save them both; she had to hope that this was the effect of the wolf within and that her family’s spells would be enough to save them.
She knew enough of vampire law to understand that they were not allowed to kill their own kind. They certainly could not harm one of their own in defense of a wolf, an escaped prisoner. And that was what Caleb was going to do. He was going to kill Torin and probably Marcas, too, if he could find him. If he killed them in her defense, even being the king would not protect him. She had learned from her own experience that the position of an heir was precarious. Besides, Caleb was like her, an unusual heir, one who was already seen as different and even dangerous; she had learned that heirs in that position certainly could not break the laws of their clans. He had saved her tonight and now she needed to save him.
Kneeling behind Caleb in the ceremonial pose of her people, she settled her body down on her heels, resting her thighs on her lower legs. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. She would need focus for this. They had no bond. She was not Caleb’s mate. She wasn’t even sure that they were truly friends, but she had to try to reach him.
In her kneeling position, she meditated. She reminded herself that she was safe, that she could be calm. Calm. Calm. Calm. But Caleb … he was drinking quickly, happily.
Her eyes popped open. This wasn’t working. She had practiced this so many times before. She could reach her transference state in seconds in the calm of her classroom, in her bedroom, in the training studios, even in the field and forests surrounding her village, but … she couldn’t do it now.
Torin’s eyes were closed. Caleb was somehow drinking and smiling at the same time.
Focus. She had to focus. She felt her knees and shins on the hard cool stone beneath her. Felt her heels pressing into her bottom, felt her calves pressing against her thighs. She felt her hands warmly bunched atop her knees. She smelled Caleb. She smelled the bitter reek of his desire. She smelled something musty, like, what was it like? Yes, she smelled almost the scent of wet dog. Then the wolf was surfacing. If he was under the control of the wolf, she might be able to reach him. It was true that he was not her mate, but he might …
She couldn’t think of that now. She could not panic. Her panic was not all she felt. No, she also felt protected. She almost felt loved, like she had a frien
d that she could rely on. She felt a strong desire to return back with Caleb, to be safe with him, under his guard. She thought to herself, I want to go home, but she was picturing returning to any home that Caleb called his own. She wanted this more than anything right now, and she concentrated on that feeling, pulling it out, making it stronger. She concentrated on it until she could see it in her mind. Talking with Caleb. Sitting in a room, looking out windows with Caleb. Playing, practicing outside together. Laughing. Laughing. Real, honest laughing with Caleb.
Maybe this vision was merely a fantasy. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe it was like the fairytales her mother used to read to her, stories that faded in the morning, but her hope for the dream was strong, and she would share it with him. She uncurled her fists and stretched out her hands toward Caleb’s legs, her hands resting on the scratchy dark fibers of his pants. Placing one palm on each of his calves, she pushed her feelings into him.
As she used her magic, Caleb growled again, more harshly than before. The wolf could sense that this touch was more of a challenge than her actions before, but even though he threatened her, she did not let go. She continued to press her feelings toward Caleb. She heard Caleb moan and then shiver. But it wasn’t a sound of pain. It was … it almost ecstasy. He shifted a little, trying to move away from her and get closer to Torin. She simply pushed harder. She wasn’t breaking his focus yet, but she was challenging it. She had to push harder. Torin’s hands had dropped from Caleb’s wrists. He was no longer trying to escape his grasp.
She pictured laughing with Caleb. She thought again of a memory from a day many months ago. In her village, she had been playing with the young children. Caleb had been following her, so he was near. She looked up, feeling him there. She saw him watching her. He looked quickly and guiltily away, but then he looked back, knowing he had been caught. He sort of smiled, his lips lifting up, briefly, to one side, pulling awkwardly into a semblance of a smile, almost a mockery of one, but close, close to pleasure. It was such a fast smile, she might have missed it, but he seemed to be sharing a joke with her. She wanted that again. She wanted it now. Now. She sent that desire to him as forcefully as she knew how, in one solid burst.
Caleb moved his mouth away from Torin, lifting his face from Torin’s neck, he paused a second and then looked down at her. His glance was bothered, almost annoyed, as though he was being disturbed and didn’t like it. His eyes were still yellow.
But he released Torin.
Torin moaned and collapsed onto the floor. He grabbed his neck, stopping his blood loss. His eyes were half shut, but he was still conscious.
“You will suffer for this,” Torin muttered weakly.
“Get out of my sight, before I decide I’m not quite full.” The voice that spoke was finally Caleb’s.
As Torin blinked out of sight, Caleb moved to stand in front of her, still vibrating with anger, and he would not look at her, but he said calmly, “You should not have stopped me. He deserved to die.”
“I couldn’t simply sit here while you ruined yourself.”
Although he still would not look at her, he apparently agreed because he was quiet for a few moments, and when he finally spoke, he asked a question that had nothing to do with Torin. “What did you do to me?”
“I calmed you. That’s all.”
“What do you mean, you calmed me? How?”
“It’s a spell the wolf-women are taught. We use it to calm our ma — To calm the males … after battle.”
He looked around, staring into the night, thinking. Then said only, “Damn it. The other one has gone, too.”
He looked down at her, meeting her eyes again, and his were back, deep brown, thoughtful, logical, assessing. Caleb had returned.
“Caleb,” she whispered, relieved.
Understanding her relief, he looked away from her again and said, forcefully, “Don’t do that again without my permission.”
“I just did what I thought was best.”
“You don’t get to think here, Libby. You’re my prisoner. You do what I allow you to do. Do you understand?”
“I saved you!” she yelled, upset.
“Libby, you know — ” He stopped. Closing his eyes, he shook his head viscously.
“Look,” she said more evenly. “I was just trying to help. In my pack, as little loved as I was, they trusted me to help in that way. I just … I wanted … ”
He said quietly, “I do not care what you thought or what you wanted. I do not care who you were in your pack. Here, you are nothing without me. You do not exist without me. You are nothing in the Capitol. They would sooner see you dead.”
He kneeled down in front of her, looking into her eyes. At first she thought he would try to comfort her, but the words he said brought her up short. “If you leave my protection, my people will destroy you. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Yes. I understand.”
He continued, his voice rising as he spoke, growing angrier. “You are nothing here, less than garbage. My kind hate your kind. They care little for the lives of beasts, even less for the lives of werewolves. If I hadn’t found you, they would have … ”
“I know, Caleb. Stop it. Please.”
“You beg me now for mercy from the truth, but they would have made you beg for your life. They would have ruined you. Killed you. And my entire clan would have done nothing. The murder of one of your kind calls for no legal action. They would not have been punished.” He looked down and exhaled loudly. “They would not have been punished.”
He stood, and when he spoke again, he was almost yelling. “You are to blame for this. Escaping the prison, trying to leave here, trying to flee from me and from my protection. You really are a fool.”
She wanted to believe that he was worried about her and that it was his concern for her that made him so angry, so she said only, “I wasn’t trying to escape you. I was trying to get out of the prison. I would have come to you if I had known how. I won’t leave again, provided I am not taken back to the prison. I promise.”
He waited a moment, and when he spoke again, he was calmer, quieter, and he met her gaze evenly. “You’re right about one thing. You won’t leave again. For I make you a promise,” he hissed. “If you try to leave again, you won’t have to worry about my kinsmen — I will kill you myself.”
She closed her eyes and bowed her head. She wanted to open them, wanted to face him, to demand he respect her right to flee, her right to find freedom and friendship. She wanted to shout at him about his betrayal, but each word he said was like a slap, reminding her that she didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong here. She had wanted to call Caleb home, but he wasn’t her home. He wasn’t even her friend. He couldn’t be. He was less than a stranger to her. She didn’t know this man. He was her captor. He was the old enemy of her kind. When would she learn that?
He hesitated as though he were leaving her time to understand what he was saying. He stared at her to make sure that she listened, but when she said nothing, he turned away from her. “I promise you: the world you knew is gone. You belong to me now. Forget the idea of leaving. You cannot escape me. You. Belong. To me.”
Chapter 21: POSSESSION
She still said nothing. What was there to say? She had been so afraid. Then he had saved her, and she had felt only relief and something close to joy. He had arrived to save her, and she was grateful.
He was right. She was being a fool. Even now, she was trying to delude herself, trying to find some way to rationalize his words, trying to find hope in his insistence that she never leave him. She had wanted to believe that this was a sign of his affection, his friendship. But after hearing him say all of this, she couldn’t afford to fantasize and dream of fairytales.
She didn’t know exactly what she wanted from him, but she didn’t expect that this submission, this servitude, was what he wanted from he
r. She was beginning to think that they were something close to friends, but now, in the face of this, she wasn’t sure what to think. Worse, she simply couldn’t care. She was too tired.
She mumbled hoarsely, “Just leave me alone, Caleb.” For a rebuttal, it was more than weak. It was pathetic, but she was simply too exhausted to fight. She would surrender. What, really, did she have left? There was only this. “Just leave me alone.”
“No,” he answered. “Not until you say it.”
She glanced up toward him, searching his face. She didn’t know what he wanted to hear …
He interrupted her racing thoughts by speaking again, but she couldn’t understand him. She continued to look up at him with a bewildered expression.
He repeated himself. “Say it.”
“What? I … ” she said as though she were dazed and finally returning to consciousness.
“Say it.”
“Say what? Caleb, I don’t … ”
“I belong to you. Say it, and never forget it.”
He said the words without feeling.
This was not the desperate plea of a comrade, hoping to gain a pledge. Her stomach twisted. She was his possession, a tool, or, worse, a toy to be used and protected like any other. Did she have the right to ask for anything more? She was an exile who had betrayed her pack and her home. She had shared their secrets with their enemy. She had been a fool. She was still one, and, as her father said, she deserved to be punished.
In a broken whisper, she responded, “I belong to you.”
After a few moments, she heard Caleb shift his weight and turn fully around. Looking up, she watched as he walked away. Without a word or a glance backward to see if she followed him, he walked away. He knew she would return with him. She had nowhere else to go. She wanted to get up and follow him. For better or for worse, he was the closest thing she had to a friend. In a world full of enemies, he was the closest thing she had to an ally. And as he had said, to leave his company was dangerous for her. She was aware of him, of his growing distance from her, but she couldn’t make herself follow. She willed herself to do it, but she simply couldn’t.