by A. Z. Green
“Don't push me, Garik,” Thorpe warned.
Garik smiled. It wasn't a pleasant expression. “You know, before today I thought you didn't have it in you, but after you nearly knocked my head off, I guess you proved me wrong.”
“Just because I live amongst humanity doesn't mean I've forgotten how to fight back, and don't you forget it.”
Garik countered Thorpe's threat with his own. “Oh, believe me... I won't.” The words were ominous in the once welcoming hallway. Garik caught Eliza standing half hidden by the lounge door. Their eyes met and she stared. She was scorned, hurt and afraid. That much he could see. He didn't want to make her feel any worse so in his politest voice he announced, “Nice seeing you Liza.”
She turned her face away.
Garik then locked his gaze on his brother. They stared at each other intently for a short moment before he concluded, “Thorpe.” He then stepped over the threshold of the open door and swung round to face his younger brother.
“Garik,” came Thorpe's response before he shut the door hard in his face.
Garik grinned to conceal how much that had offended him.
He put his wide back to the door and headed for his black jeep.
*
“John? It's Thorpe.”
“I've been trying to get hold of you!” came the strained voice on the other end.
“We changed our number last year when we moved house. I've been meaning to call but I wasn't sure it was safe.”
“You don't know what we've been going through over here!” John began, distressed.
“I think I do.” The edge to Thorpe's voice made John frown and pause. His wife, Rachel, was watching him intently. She mouthed, 'What'? He held up his index finger, 'Wait'. “Garik paid a visit,” Thorpe finally said.
“As in, your brother, Garik?”
“The one and only.”
“How'd he find you?”
“It doesn't matter. He's gotten better over the years it was bound to happen. He told us they have Jasmine.” John nodded gravely and closed his eyes. Rachel was itching to grab the phone. “So it's true?” Thorpe asked edgily. He knew Garik wouldn't gloat about something that was a lie. It wasn't his style, but he needed to be sure.
“Yes. A woman called Erica was posing as her aunt.”
“Shit,” Thorpe cursed.
“We weren't sure who she was. We've been trying to find you.”
“She's my sister. Goddammit I should have left you a letter or something. But after Lora, I just couldn't risk it. I thought Jaz would be safer if I cut off contact for a while.”
“Don't blame yourself. I couldn't drive your sister away. She's a tough nut.”
“You have no idea,” Thorpe said drolly, with a hint of bitterness as he remembered something in the past.
“I didn't know what to do but keep an eye on her. Then she mentioned this trip and Jaz was so excited. It's the most excited I'd seen her be about anything in a year.”
John had told Thorpe about the incident at the hospital when it had happened. Thorpe had found out hours before that Lora had died in the same way; her child had been a stillbirth. He'd suggested to John to let Jaz believe it was a miscarriage and go along with it, even when she'd come to her senses later on and had said she was a virgin. 'Convince her otherwise. Say she could have gotten drunk at a party, anything! Just don't let her know the truth. Not yet,' Thorpe had told John.
Thorpe knew now it had been the wrong thing to do, but he'd only been trying to look out for her. Twice he'd done this and twice he'd failed because of making the wrong decision. It comes with being a parent- even a distant one.
He just didn't want her to know Lora had ever existed. It would have crushed her already fragile state. How would she react when she found out? He was sure they'd tell her eventually, if she didn't work it out herself before then.
The bonds between twins were strong and that was the only explanation for her dream. Their bond was even stronger than the bond between mates. He glanced at Eliza as he thought this. Her expression was strained. He smiled at her and instantly her muscles relaxed. She smiled back. “I can imagine,” was all he could say.
“I really didn't think she'd take her away. I mean, I never thought she'd just- I-I don't know, I should have stopped her, forbade it, or something. Told her never to see her aunt again.”
“No. Erica would have still come. It would have driven Jaz away for all the wrong reasons. She'd have gone if it's what she wanted.”
“I'm so sorry Thorpe. I really am.”
“I know. Me too. I should never have given you such a burden. It was not yours to bear.”
“She was never a burden to me,” John replied in a strained voice.
Thorpe held back the tears that were threatening to break free.
He'd missed out on his daughter's life, all for nothing.
He would have met up with Jasmine in time. Taught her what she needed to know. But when Lora had left -though she'd been willing, it had felt like she'd been kidnapped too- and then a few years later she'd died a tragic death that had also taken the life of her baby son; they'd had to put their plans to meet Jasmine on hold.
After Lora died -because it was at Deer Creek, under their care, he felt like the Deer Creek community were completely responsible and at fault for her death- he didn't want to risk Jasmine suffering the same fate. Especially when Lora's death had confirmed his suspicions that he had been wrong about his daughters. He'd made a huge error in judgement; though it hadn't been his fault but more his ignorance that had led him here. If he'd known back then what he knew now, he'd have never allowed Lora to go to Deer Creek. He'd have died trying to prevent it.
He didn't know for sure, but he suspected Lora's death was no accident.
Sure he'd heard the horror stories. It was difficult not to when they drilled into your head from a young age about the dangerous risk of a pureblood mating with a halfblood, halfbreed or hybrid. Also know as the 'human' child.
They -the community elders and teachers- had told him and everyone else for many years that the child of the mixed blood parents would usually die before birth regardless of whether the child itself was pure or not. The elders had also warned that if both mother and child survived throughout the pregnancy, the mother still had a high chance of hemorrhaging or having other complications. Their chances of survival were extremely low; in fact he hadn't heard of a case where mother and child had lived apart from his daughters and his wife. It was unheard of.
Or so they say.
One thing he was certain of now, was that Lora hadn't been a pureblood.
She'd gone to Deer Creek with her parents' reluctant acceptance. She'd been curious and excited about it and they hadn't wanted to hold her back. They had warned her of the risks but had understood her desire to go.
She'd promised to stay for a short time but had fallen in love. She'd told them she was going to get married and had asked her parents to come to Deer Creek for the ceremony. After much heartbreak and hours of painful contemplation, they'd refused. Not because of her, but because of them. The community. He didn't trust them. There were too many skeletons hiding in their closet. Mysterious deaths, missing people. Evidence of gangs within the Packs joining together for midnight prowls with humans as their prey. It was against all their laws but he knew they did it. He'd seen it for himself and that was one of the reasons he'd left.
And he'd suspected twenty years ago that someone higher up was covering the gangs' backs, even pretending they didn't exist. Now twice his age then, he still had the same suspicions.
What would stop those killers from murdering an un-pure blood?
Everyone there had believed Lora was a pureblood. Why would they have thought otherwise?
Unless they found out. Unless she'd been spied on.
The cogs in his head began piecing together the parts of the puzzle. Something was definitely off. He feared now for the only daughter he had left.
A self-pitying vo
ice in his head told him, if she walked past him in the street she wouldn't even know who he was. He was a stranger to her. And in some ways, she was to him. He didn't care, she was his daughter; nothing else mattered.
He thought back to tactics and said, “For now, sit tight. You haven't gone to the police?”
“No, I was trying to get hold of you. I thought you'd know what to do. I hoped that someone would let you know soon and you'd try to contact me. Thank god you did. But, should I have called them?”
“No, you did the right thing. We don't want the police involved. It could get ugly. Tell no one that she's gone missing.”
“As far as they know she's gone with her aunt on a spa holiday.”
“That's good,” Thorpe concluded.
“It's supposed to be for two weeks. Her friends have called the house several times saying they can't get hold of her. She doesn't answer her phone.”
“Tell them she's lost it. I'm sure they plan to keep her longer than that so when it gets nearer the second week, tell her friends she's going to get medical treatment over there. She's suffering depression. Ask the university to give her some time off. She may have to retake the year.”
John exhaled loudly. He knew she'd be annoyed at that. She'd worked so hard already. But more important things crossed his mind. “Just tell me Thorpe, is she safe?”
“I hope so John, I really do.”
~Chapter 14- Sneak~
Tuesday May 10th, 2011, 11:47 p.m. -Jaz's Room
I've gotta get out of here.
That was the only thought in her mind since she'd gotten into bed two hours before.
She'd tossed and turned. It was hot, or she was hot, she couldn't tell. And she didn't know why.
She touched her head. It was damp with sweat and on fire; her moist hair had been her only source of coolness. Now her mahogany roots were almost dry.
She kicked the brown covers off and sat up, staring at the wall in front that was bathed in the dull moonlight coming through the thick glass of the high window.
She didn't know how she was going to escape, or if she even could, but she just knew she had to.
They were all liars. None of this stuff they'd said about her was true. It couldn't be.
And if they weren't lying, somehow, she'd figure it out. Maybe even find her real parents if they hadn't lied about that too.
She'd get their help- they owed her that much.
She'd made her decision. She had to get out. Once she made a decision, she didn't hold back.
First things first... Driver.
She looked over to her door which stood ajar. He'd left it unlocked and open for some unknown reason. Probably a mind game. She wouldn't put it past him. Or any of them.
She listened out for him in the adjoining room. She was pretty sure he hadn't left it. She'd heard the silky bedsheets hiss and the bed creak about half an hour after she'd hit the hay. He was lying in his bed, she was sure of it.
If he was a heavy sleeper- which she wasn't counting on- she could sneak right past him. If the door to his room wasn't locked -doubtful- or shut at least -very unlikely- she could sneak out, grab her bag before leaving. It was on the floor by the end of the bed last time she'd checked.
That's a lot of 'If's', said the skeptical part of her brain. She blew out air from her cheeks and frowned, thinking.
What about guards? she wondered, as she planned her escape.
She played a scenario in her mind, something out of a prison break scene from a film she'd seen -she'd forgotten the name- and saw herself bent forward, stealthily skimming across a barb wired fence. Guards perched on towers with rifles, scanning the area in the darkness. Then the blaring beam from the spotlight catches her in its sight and the guard aims, fires. The breath in her throat got stuck. She exhaled, trying to force the fear out along with it.
She wondered if, because Driver had left her door open, maybe he'd told whoever guarded this hellhole to ease off on security? At least as far as she was concerned.
Or maybe he wants you to think that, which is why he left the door open in the first place. He's egging you on. He looks the twisted type. Hasn't proved you wrong so far. She smiled darkly. It stopped her from crying again.
She stared at the wall, thinking her plan through.
She didn't know how many people were around, what their security system was like. Apart from their... she glanced up at the far end corner of the room, on the wall by the door... cameras.
She'd spotted it that morning. It was a very well concealed lens the size of a two pound coin, built into the stone. The frame around the lens was the same colour as the stone. It wasn't impossible to find, but with all the bumps and curves and pot holes in the stone walls it wasn't noticeable either. Not unless you were really looking.
Not unless you'd been locked in there for several days.
And knew you were being watched.
By a bunch of sick freaks. She made a face; her top lip peaking upwards to one side to expose her bared teeth.
A thought then came to her.
How will you know where to go if you don't know the layout?
That's true. But I just need to make it into the woods. They were all around the road at the entrance. If I get to them I'll get to a road. I'll find someone eventually.
Barefoot? She glanced down at her feet.
She'd removed the bandages before getting into the shower.
The nail beds all around each toenail were red and swollen. The nails hadn't fallen off from being cut away, they were clinging on, underneath the cuticles. They looked strange too- besides the obvious. They were thicker, harder looking- that was the only way she could describe them. They had also grown a lot since she'd last looked at them. But they hadn't grown in a smooth slightly curved line like they usually do; they had grown into a blunt point. Almost like a...
Claw, she thought with revulsion. Terror crawled up her back and she shivered.
The red nail polish she'd applied the day before leaving home was now chipped and scratched into a blotchy mess. She stared at them uncertainly.
Barefoot? She thought again.
If I have to, she answered herself, firmly, resolutely.
She eyed the camera cautiously. She wondered how long it would take for someone to alert the guards, or Driver? Maybe he was her only guard?
He was bad enough.
She tiptoed over to the partially open door and slowly peeked inside his room. She squinted in the murky light; the moon beams distorted as they shot through the thick, bubbled glass, casting a faded line of light on the end of the bed and across the dark brown animal hide that was sprawled out on the beige, stone floor.
Her handbag was lying exactly where she'd left it. Just by the end of his bed, near the right wooden leg.
She looked up at the body in the bed. She could make out his torso, concealed under the silk, brown sheets (the bloke sure likes brown – she thought randomly) as it bobbed up and down with each breath.
His breathing was deep and slow. Though he didn't snore. Or maybe he did, which meant he was still awake, waiting. The idea unnerved her.
She waited for twenty more breaths -counting each one in thorough concentration- before she had the guts to open the door fully and step in. She tiptoed lightly. The pain was oddly lessened when she put her weight on the balls of her feet. She saved the questions to herself for later.
She'd held her breath from the length of the door to the bed. She continued to hold it when she reached the edge of the bed. She then stopped and cautiously peered over the covers that were all bunched up where his hips should be- she guessed.
She could just see his cheek and chin. His eyes were completely pitch black. The sharp black holes of his eye sockets looked eerie in the gloom. She saw no eyes glaring at her from somewhere in the blackness and so slowly, inch by inch, vertebrae by vertebrae, bent forward.
She carefully picked up her bag, making sure the contents didn't rattle loudly. With her free hand, s
he prodded the bag on the outside, feeling around for the pills bottle, just to check it was really there. She felt the familiar shape under her hand. It even tinkled faintly to reassure her it was still full and they hadn't sneakily removed the pills, in case she tried to escape and take them.
Like now...she thought ironically and then mentally scoffed, Duh.
She smiled fleetingly, stood up straight and allowed herself to breathe.
But that breath got stuck in her throat, choking her, as she saw the dark eyes of her kidnapper watching her in the darkness.
*
Monday May 16th, 9:36 a.m. Council Meeting
Most of the council members were sitting around the long table discussing the usual issues. Farming, food stock, money, upgrading the training facilities, tensions and rumours between communities- or 'Packs' if they weren't always anxious about human spies listening in.
A small few amongst them, however, weren't so skittish.
Tyra for example; a beautiful rose -with thorns that drew blood (at least that was her reputation, which she'd worked hard to keep)- of Brazilian decent, was the Spokeswoman for the 'Phasers', 'Cubs' or 'Seedlings'- nicknames for those who were new to the 'Change' and needed support. She brought any issues about those that were going through the Change, or anything to do within that area, every week to the council. She also led the Were Finding Organization under the authority of the Pack Leader, Nik, and Head of Council, Arik.
She knew all about Jaz.
Of course she did. She'd helped with the search.
She had also found Lora, the twin around three years before. And she had been good friends with her. It had stabbed at her solid 'Bitch Mask' when Lora had died. But Tyra had suffered worse. The stab didn't stand a chance against her impenetrable shield.
And she wasn't skittish. Quite the opposite. So to say 'Pack' or 'Were' or 'phase' or 'Beast', didn't bother her. “How about we move onto this new Were addition to our Pack?” she suggested loudly, pushing in through the mundane conversation.
Arik rolled his eyes and chewed his tongue- his usual sign of annoyance.