“That would be the question of the day.”
Archer moved to sit closer to Chad, leaning over so that he could whisper near his ear while making it look like he was looking at his head.
“Pretend I’m looking at the back of your head where you hit it,” he said quietly.
Chad complied, leaning forward.
“Is Maci alright?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know?”
“Yes.”
“Is someone helping her?”
“Yes,” Chad said.
“Do you trust him?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good,” Archer said, standing up and moving a few feet away. “Your head looks good. You don’t need stitches.”
“Good to know,” Chad said, sitting up a little straighter and happy to see that the movement didn’t cause him to get dizzy the way it had several minutes earlier.
“Are you starting to feel a bit better?” Archer asked, moving over to the table and putting together one of the sandwiches sitting on the table.
“I am, thank you,” Chad said.
“So tell me, did you tell anyone else about the clones?” Archer asked, carefully spreading mustard on the bread after Chad nodded that he would like some.
“No, I didn’t tell anyone else.”
“But the man who tried to assassinate me—well, the clone me.”
“Just him,” Chad said, still watching Archer while also looking around the small, dirty room.
“That is good. I’m surprised that Maci trusted a shifter.”
Archer was still focused on the sandwich, so he didn’t see the look Chad gave him.
I never said he was a shifter, Chad thought, suddenly anxious.
“What did you say the man’s name was again?”
“James.”
“Just James?”
“I don’t know his family name.”
“Where is his family from?”
“The Ozarks,” Chad lied. “The Missouri region.”
Archer nodded but didn’t say anything else while he worked diligently putting together the simple sandwich for Chad without making one for himself.
Chad looked around again, noting the clean state of Archer’s clothing and the dirty, bare cement floor. The ease of his movements and his calm demeanor also didn’t match the situation. Even the calmest man would be stressed under this type of situation, yet Archer was calm and cool.
“You know what,” Chad said finally. “I’m really not feeling well. I’m feeling really cold. Is there a blanket in here or something?”
He let his head fall against the bricks, tilting his head to the side and closing his eyes for a moment as if he was dizzy.
“No blankets,” Archer said.
“I’m really cold. Aren’t you cold?”
“No, it’s actually a little warm in here.”
“I’m freezing,” Chad said, his body shuddering at the thought of being chilled and lending his claims credibility.
“Would you like to cover up with my jacket?” Archer said, indicating the pull over hoodie that he was wearing.
“I would appreciate it, if you don’t mind.”
“No problem,” Archer said, setting down the food and pulling his sweater over his head.
Chad watched closely, ready for the instant when the hem of Archer’s shirt would pull from his waistband. He didn’t have to wait long, and when he saw that Archer’s abdomen was smooth and flat, he let his eyes close, pretending that he’d had them closed the entire time Archer was pulling the sweater over his head.
There’s no scar, he thought, angry at himself for being lulled into a false sense of security, even though he was being held captive against his will and had thought that he was as good as dead. He was ashamed of how willing he was to believe that Archer, the real Archer, just happened to be there and perfectly fine after almost four months of being held captive. If Archer was still alive.
Chad kept his eyes closed, his body relaxed as if he was starting to lose consciousness again. He didn’t open his eyes until he felt Archer’s hand on his arm.
“Thank you,” Chad said, taking the sweatshirt and putting it on, even though he wasn’t cold. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“What are friends for?” the imposter Archer said, his smile wide and genuine looking, just like it had been since Chad had first been able to see.
“I appreciate you helping me. I don’t know what I would have done without a friendly face to greet me in such a situation. I think I would have struggled to come to terms with what’s going on and be patient.”
“Letting yourself get overwhelmed and out of sorts really doesn’t help anyone,” Archer agreed. “Would you like to eat?”
“Not now,” Chad said, though his stomach clenched with the need for food. “I’m feeling a little queasy, and I think I need to rest.”
“I understand. You rest, and hopefully things will be less blurry in the morning.”
“Good because I can barely see you as it is. You look like a blob.”
“Thank you,” Archer teased. “I think that is the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day.”
Chad cracked a smile, but he didn’t laugh. He let his head fall to the side against the wall, focusing on his breathing and keeping his features relaxed.
Several minutes later, he was rewarded with the sound of the door opening. He didn’t move, keeping his face relaxed and his breathing slow and even.
“Did he give you the info?” a new voice asked.
“Nothing we can use; at least, I don’t think it’s anything we can use without a surname,” the imposter Archer said.
“Do you think he knows more?”
“I doubt it. He thought I was the real thing, and it never occurred to him to lie. He even believed my story about the cameras and the listening devices in the room.”
“Great job. Do you think he’ll sleep long?”
“He’s pretty banged up, and it seems like he’s got a fever or something. He was shivering, but his body is warm.”
“Maybe he is having an adverse reaction,” the strange voice said.
“It doesn’t matter. If he lives through it, the sandwich will get him.”
“Good work. You’re done here. He doesn’t look like he’s doing too well, and I don’t want to waste resources on a dead end.”
“I’ll look up that scar that the real Archer has, and you can recreate it on me and send me to replace the first replacement.”
Their voices started to fade, and then the door closed behind them, cutting off their conversation abruptly as they walked away from where Chad was being held.
Chad didn’t move for a long time, afraid that the men would return in order to catch him feigning sleep.
When enough time had passed, he looked around the room, still keeping his head down as if he was struggling. In the corner opposite from him, and not visible from the small cutout window in the door, was a bucket he assumed was meant as a makeshift bathroom. Meanwhile, the poisoned sandwich remained on the small table, waiting for him to eat it.
And next to the sandwich was the butter knife that the imposter had been using to spread the poison mustard on the sandwich.
Chad got up, carefully, in case anyone was watching, and stumbled to the table. He didn’t have to act; his legs were unsteady beneath him. He grabbed the sandwich and knife in one swoop, bringing the sandwich to his lips without taking a bite. He smelled the sandwich, but there was no telltale scent to give away what poison was being used.
He tossed the sandwich in the corner behind the empty bucket, kicking it around on the dusty floor a little so that it blended in with the old cement in the dim light that barely touched that corner of the room.
Chad sat down beside the empty bucket, already winded from the effort. Whatever they had given him was still holding him back.
When he sat down, something hard pressed against his back, and he jumped, thinking that there was s
omething in the room with him. When he looked behind himself and saw nothing, he realized what he had sat on.
Trying not to get his hopes up, he fished around in his pockets and almost cried with relief when his hand touched one of two slim phones that were stowed in the hidden inner lining pockets of his sport coat. Somehow, both phones had been missed. They had probably gotten his work phone and his service revolver and never imagined that he would be carrying a burner phone and Maci’s phone.
He pulled out his burner first, almost groaning aloud when he saw that there was no signal. He sent a text anyway, writing a quick note to Logan and hitting send. Logan’s name wasn’t in the phone’s contact information, and hopefully they wouldn’t find the phone before the message was sent. If he was able to move to a spot in the room with even one bar for one second, that would be enough for the message to get sent, and hopefully, Logan would be able to help him.
They have me, the text read. Trust no one, and trace hers.
He closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer that Logan would get it and understand that Chad wanted him to trace Maci’s phone to help find him. He was holding out hope that keeping it vague would prevent them from realizing that Chad had Maci’s phone, too. He checked her phone quickly, making sure it was on but completely silenced before hiding both phones again.
Having done as much as he could, he stuck the knife in the large, single pocket on the front of the hoody and went to moving about the room slowly and methodically, waiting for that miraculous moment when the phone would vibrate, letting him know that his pending text had been sent and was on its way to Logan. Once Logan had the information, all Chad could do was wait and plot out a Plan B, just in case.
He was exhausted before he’d made it halfway around the room, even though the room was quite small. He sat back against the wall where he stopped, about halfway between the corner where the sandwich was hidden and the wall he’d been on when he’d woken up. His head dipped to the side, and his eyes closed. Trying with all his might, he couldn’t keep his eyes open, and soon, they had fallen shut and he was drifting off to sleep, the drugs still weighing him down and making the fight that much harder. Right before he completely gave in to the darkness, he put his hand in the pocket of the sweat shirt and wrapped his hand around the knife’s handle. It wasn’t sharp, and it wasn’t much, but if they came for him again, he wanted to be ready.
If they were going to kill him, this time, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Maci walked to the edge of the clearing with Logan, stopping when he did and looking in awe at the beautifully crafted log cabins in front of them.
“I didn’t even realize there were so many from far away.”
“It’s intentional. We don’t want people stumbling onto our home. Not because it’s dangerous for them as much as it’s dangerous for us.”
“I can see that,” she said. “After the way your species has been treated, I wouldn’t blame you if you killed any human that stepped foot in your territory.”
He shook his head.
“We would have been playing right into the hands of the people that wanted to keep us hidden from view.”
“That is horrendous.”
“I’m glad you understand.” He paused for a long while, as if trying to find the right words. “I need you to wait here. I need to let them know that I’m bringing you here and why before I just waltz into the village with you beside me.”
“Okay,” she said, looking around nervously. “Am I going to be alright here?”
“I’ll be able to see you from where I am.” He pulled his shirt up, reaching inside to remove a necklace with a wolf’s paw hanging from a thick chain. “Put this on and leave it out where everyone can see. They’ll know that you’re with a wolf, and that will buy me enough time to get back to you if I need to.”
“Enough time to get back to me? Before what? That is not very comforting.”
“Just trust me,” he said, and he started jogging toward the village without another word, not even waiting for her to answer.
“Great,” she said under her breath. “There he goes.”
She watched him jog away, then smiled to herself. At least the view was nice as he made his way down the trail, heading for the largest cabin in the center of the village nearest to where they were.
It was a lifetime before he returned, beckoning for her to come to the largest cabin as he rushed to meet her part way.
When he made it to where she was on the trail, he took her backpack and slung it over his own shoulders, then grabbed her hand and held it. Electricity shot through her body at his touch, forcing her to take a deep breath to calm the tremors that rushed through her body in an instant.
He squeezed her hand and caught her eye, winking at her.
She let out a heavy sigh, but she didn’t say a word. She didn’t even try to remove her hand. He held her hand tight, and after a moment, even threaded his fingers between hers, setting off another wave of electricity from his hand to hers.
“I like how your body responds to my touch,” he said, the low pitch of his words resonating along her spine.
She blushed and elbowed him gently.
“You don’t fight fair,” she said.
“Then why fight it?” he said, chuckling softly. “Remember, go with the flow, no matter what, alright?”
“Somehow, I think I’m agreeing to more than I bargained for,” she laughed.
“Just say yes,” he said.
“Yes. I will go along with whatever outlandish story you’ve concocted.”
“Perfect.”
He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them quickly. She looked at him then, her hazel eyes catching his dark brown eyes for a moment before she turned away almost shyly.
“You make this fun for me,” he said.
“You’re ridiculous,” she countered, but her voice was light, laughter behind the words.
“You like it,” he said. “I keep you off balance and on your toes. You’re the kind of woman who fights but secretly loves it.”
“The same old boring things get to be too much,” she admitted, not arguing with him because he was right. “I like predictability in my job and in some aspects of my life, but when it’s everywhere, it almost feels as chaotic as actual chaos.”
“I know what you mean,” he said. “That’s why so many of us are willing to register as shifters in order to have a place among the humans. Hiding from the outside world here has its draw, but it gets old after a while. I know I felt like I was trapped here.”
“Do you feel that way now?” she asked, looking at him.
This time, he was the one to look away, his face darkening in the instant before Maci could no longer see his expression. She stopped, holding tightly to his hand so he had to stop, too.
“What?” she asked, but he just shook it off.
“This isn’t a conversation for now,” he said.
“So the first time something is hard for you to talk about, you can shut down, and I just have to accept it?”
“It’s better for both of us if I don’t share my thoughts right now. I will share them with you, but now is not the time.”
“When will it be time?”
“Not now,” he said shortly. “We need to hurry. They’re waiting for us.”
“We’ll talk about this more later,” she insisted.
“That is fine, but not until the time is right.”
“Why?”
“I’m sorry that you’re angry. I wish I could find the words to help you trust that I’m keeping this to myself for your benefit. It’s not about what I want; it’s about what you need and what you’re ready for. You’re not ready for this.”
“Shouldn’t that be my choice?”
“No. You can get mad, and you can argue all you want, but at the end of the day, I’m not ready to tell you something that you’re not ready to hear.”
“But I-”
; “I’m not discussing it now,” he said. This time, his voice was curt, short and a little angry. “Don’t push me.”
She yanked her hand from his, but he gathered it back up and held fast, ignoring her indignation.
“Let me go.”
“It’s for your safety. You have to trust me. Chad trusted me with your life, and I need you to trust me.”
“Chad?” she said, her struggle to break free from his hand forgotten. “What does Chad have to do with this?”
“He’s the friend that called me in. When my assassination attempt failed, he made me promise to get you away from DC until we could figure out a course of action.”
“Why would he do that? I hardly know him, and I haven’t been nice to him.”
“You haven’t, but that is not why he did it.”
“Are you going to keep that from me, too?” she asked angrily, tears threatening, which made her even angrier.
Why do I always cry when I’m mad? Maci thought indignantly, swiping her sleeve across her face.
“I can’t keep something from you if I don’t know about it.”
“Oh,” she said. “All those times he tried to talk to me, why didn’t he just say what he meant to say?”
“I don’t know, but he feels very strongly about making sure you’re protected.”
“I can take care of myself,” she said.
“He mentioned that, too. It actually seemed to be a huge source of pride for him. He warned me that you would be impossible to capture, which is why I went with the sneak attack while you slept.”
Maci laughed.
“He was right. If you had come after me on even footing, you would have found yourself on the ground.”
“You both seem so sure of that,” he laughed. “I’m a werewolf, you know.”
“I could beat you in either form,” she challenged. “I’m not afraid.”
“That, I can believe,” Logan said. “I’m pretty sure you aren’t afraid of anything.”
“I’m scared now,” she said softly.
He turned as they walked, arching an eyebrow in surprise.
“I find that almost endearing,” Logan said. “I don’t know why you’re scared, but I’m here.”
“Maybe because I’m the only human, walking into a village that is nothing but werewolves? That is terrifying.”
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