by Laura Taylor
Men. Everywhere. Twelve of them, and an automatic and uncontrollable panic set in, as twelve pairs of male eyes turned to look at her. “No…” It came out strangled, a desperate plea, and then she turned and fled, bolting down the hall until she came to a small cupboard. She flung the door open, scrambled inside and shut herself in.
Heron dashed after Skip as she ran from the room, Caroline right behind her. She wasn’t sure what had startled the girl so badly, but she was willing to take her fears seriously, for all the lack of apparent threat. They were just in time to see the hallway cupboard closing, but rather than opening the door immediately, Heron instead came to a halt beside it, glancing worriedly at Caroline.
“Skip?” she called through the door, making an effort to sound calm and soothing. “Are you okay?”
“Keep them away from me!” Skip called back, vibrant alarm in her voice, and Heron crouched down beside the door.
“Sweetie,” she said calmly. “No one is going to hurt you. I’m going to sit right beside you. And Caroline and Raniesha will be there. No one will touch you.”
“I don’t want to go near them.”
Heron pictured the dining room in her mind. Twelve strong, athletic, confident men. And only a small handful of women. Damn it all, she should have realised the problem sooner. “Okay,” she agreed immediately. It had been a big day, and she didn’t want to push Skip into anything too soon. “You don’t want to eat in the dining room? That’s okay. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
Silence. And then a small, shuffling sound. The door cracked open a fraction. “They’re scary,” Skip told her, a small, timid voice from inside the darkness. “I don’t want to touch them.”
“You don’t have to,” Heron assured her, and she felt Caroline put a hand on her shoulder and give it a squeeze. Flashbacks and irrational fears were likely an ingrained part of Skip’s psyche, and she was torn between wanting to assure her that there was no danger in the dining room, and allowing her the space and time to find her courage herself. “If you want, we can have dinner in the sitting room instead.”
The door opened a fraction more, and Skip poked her head out. “But that would be rude,” she said in dismay. “I’m sorry. I just… There are so many of them. I don’t want to mess up dinner. And some of them are nice…” Skip had run into Kwan and Aaron in the foyer this afternoon, and had seemed eager to chat. She’d explained to Heron that she wasn’t allowed to have friends at her old house, and Heron had been glad to see that she seemed interested in meeting people her own age.
“No one is going to be angry if you don’t want to come to dinner,” Heron said.
“Mark is scary,” Skip confided softly. “And Luke. He’s so tall…” Heron waited, while Skip thought the situation through.
“What about Simon?” Caroline said, when the stalemate seemed set to continue. “We told you about him earlier, remember? He likes working with computers, just like you do. He normally sits next to Heron, so what about if you sat between them? Then you could talk to him about programming, and maybe he can help you buy a new computer for yourself?” It was a blatant attempt at bribery, but one that came without the usual manipulation that the word implied. They had already promised Skip a new computer. Caroline’s tactic was merely a lure to tempt her with the best possible machine, and while it wasn’t a method Heron would have chosen herself, she was curious to see how Skip would react.
“Everyone’s going to be looking at me,” Skip said miserably, nudging her way an inch or two more out of the cupboard. “Cos I made a fuss, and…” She stopped, and then frowned. “I don’t know the rules here,” she said in confusion. “At home, my father would have been so mad if I’d run away from dinner. But you’re all polite about it, and you’re not mad or anything.”
“No one in this house should ever be scared of living here,” Heron told her firmly. She might have to repeat it a thousand more times before it sank in, but she was prepared to go the distance.
“Yes, but what are the rules?” Skip asked more insistently. “What does everyone else do at dinner?”
“Under normal circumstances,” Caroline explained, “everyone is expected to come to dinner at seven-thirty. If Baron or Anna – Anna’s the other person in charge here, but she’s away at the moment. But if either of them have any news, then they tell everyone before the meal starts. And then we ask Sirius to bless the meal, and then, if anyone isn’t hungry, they can leave, while everyone else eats dinner.” They had briefly mentioned Sirius this morning, while they were explaining a few of the details of shape shifting to Skip, and she’d seemed to like the idea of a divine wolf spirit watching over her.
“Then I should come to dinner,” she said firmly, picking herself up off the floor and closing the cupboard. “If that’s what everyone else does, then that’s what I should do.”
Heron smiled down at her, feeling a wave of admiration for the girl. “You are the bravest young woman I have ever met,” she said warmly. “Come on. Let’s go back.”
Inside the dining room, Heron was glad to see that the meal hadn’t started yet. Knowing she had missed the start of it would only have made Skip feel more awkward. She was more relieved to see that everyone was being extremely tactful, avoiding staring at them as they returned to the room, and Heron led Skip to her seat, between herself and Simon.
Once they were settled, Baron tapped his fork against his glass, and the room fell silent. “I’ve received news from Anna. She’s returning home tomorrow afternoon, flying into Carlisle by private jet. For anyone who hasn’t heard yet, lockdown has officially ended. You’re free to go about in wolf form as usual. Any other news?”
Silence, as everyone shook their head, and Heron was grateful for Baron’s tact in not making a point of introducing Skip to the room. The attention would likely have given her another panic attack.
Baron raised his glass. “To those who still run,” he said, repeating the nightly ritual toast.
“And to those who have fallen,” the Den replied in unison. “May they be welcome at the table of Sirius at the setting of the sun.”
With no further prompting, conversations sprung up all over the room, and everyone dug into the food.
CHAPTER SEVEN
October 25th
The next morning, Baron faced a sea of worried faces in the library. Almost half the Den had gathered to discuss Skip’s future, to make plans for her schooling and education into shifter culture, her combat training, and to devise plans to help her deal with the trauma of her past. “Thank you all for making yourselves available on such short notice,” he said, once everyone was settled. “First of all, I want to let you know that after Skip’s panic attack last night, I took the liberty of speaking to the Council about her. They’re sending one of their diplomats with Anna when she comes. Nia is trained in psychology, and while it’s not normal protocol, they’re willing to let her stay here for as long as Skip needs to get her head around things. I’m expecting a minimum of six months, possibly a year or more. We all know she’s been abused, but none of us really knows the extent of that abuse, and we certainly don’t have the skills to deal with it on the level that Skip is going to need.”
“She’s very smart,” Simon commented. “And that’s a good thing as far as therapy goes. Intelligent kids tend to respond to counselling fairly well.”
“Something else I’d like to ask for at the same time,” Heron added. “Therapy for Skip is essential, I agree, but it would be a great help if this therapist could spend some time with the rest of us. Let us know what we should be expecting from Skip, how to deal with her panic attacks, what to do in terms of discipline. I don’t want to come down too hard on her, but in the long term, letting her have everything her own way isn’t going to be good for her either.”
Baron nodded. “Nia has been fully briefed on Skip’s situation, and she’s already said she’ll need to have a few planning sessions with the rest of us. I know it’s a little awkward h
aving a stranger on the estate for that long-”
“It won’t be a problem,” Heron said firmly, and a chorus of voices agreed with her. “We all care about Skip enough to make allowances for a Council emissary.”
“Thank you,” Baron said, looking around the room. “Heron has volunteered to finish Skip’s schooling with her, and I’m planning to take on a fair bit of her education into shifter culture myself, but I’ll probably need someone else to fill in when things get busy. Raniesha, do you think you might have time?”
Raniesha nodded. “I’d be happy to help.” She’d been in the Den for over a decade, and was well versed in the lessons Skip would need to master.
“But perhaps we shouldn’t rush into that side of things too quickly,” Heron suggested. “Skip’s still fairly nervous around you, and around men in general. Maybe we should let her get used to the idea of living here a little more before we launch right into our complete history and culture.”
Baron shrugged, not at all put out by the suggestion. “We have some time, so there’s no harm in waiting a few weeks. I think her school work should start fairly soon, though. Having some sense of routine would help her settle in.”
Heron nodded. “That should work nicely.”
Next he turned his attention to Silas and Tank. Silas was their main instructor in combat training, teaching the new recruits everything from martial arts, to knife defence, to how to use a handgun. But since Tank had been recruited two years ago, and subsequently converted into a shifter just a few months ago, he’d proven himself to be on par with Silas as far as hand to hand fighting went. He’d been in the military before he was recruited, and Baron had recently assigned him to training Eric, their other new recruit. The results had been promising.
“Tank, I’d like you to have a think about training Skip in martial arts. By the time she’s converted, she’ll need to know how to fight at a fairly decent level. The Noturatii aren’t picky about who they attack, after all. And Silas, I wanted to assign you to firearms training-”
“Uh…” Tank interrupted, looking uncomfortable. “I’m not sure me teaching her to fight is a good idea,” he said carefully. Baron quirked an eyebrow at him. “Hand to hand training involves hitting the student,” Tank explained. “Or at least pretending to. And with the way Skip feels about men right now, I really don’t think having a man who weighs three times as much as her throwing a fist her way is a good idea.”
Baron sighed. “I know it’s not a great situation, but she has to learn to fight, one way or another. It’s putting her own safety at risk if she doesn’t.”
“I understand the situation,” Tank said respectfully. “But I’m going to have to say no.”
Baron was surprised at the flat refusal. Up until now, Tank had always been amiable and cooperative, following orders promptly and taking a strong interest in the goings on around the Den. But given the situation, he could understand Tank’s reasons for saying no, so he wasn’t inclined to push the issue. He turned to Silas-
“The answer is no,” Silas said, before Baron could even get a word out. “Tank’s right. I’ll teach her to shoot, no problem, but I’m not getting involved in anything that includes laying a single finger on her.”
Baron snarled. “God damn it, we all know she has to be trained to fight.”
“No argument there,” Silas said grimly. “But throwing her in the deep end with trained killers is not the answer.”
“Let’s all think about it for a couple of days,” Heron suggested diplomatically. “A solution will present itself. But she’s only just arrived, and I don’t like the idea of rushing her into anything that might do more harm than good.”
“Fine,” Baron conceded with a sigh. “We can discuss it with Nia when she arrives. She might be able to come up with a good solution that won’t upset Skip.”
“Moving onto another problem, then,” Alistair said apprehensively. He was the Den’s PR guru and kept a regular eye on the media to head off any news stories that might cause problems for them. “Skip’s father has reported her missing. No surprises there, given who he is, but if we want to keep this as simple as possible, we need to get things wrapped up there fairly quickly.”
“The original plan was to get Skip to do that for us,” Simon reminded everyone. “From what Heron says, she ran away by choice, and given how she feels about what her father was doing, it shouldn’t be hard to talk her into reporting him to the police.”
“I’m not so sure,” Heron said quickly. “Despite her dislike of him, he somehow brainwashed her into believing she’s supposed to be looking after him – some kind of health problem or other – and she feels guilty enough about leaving him as it is. Accusing him of a crime may well be too big a step for her.”
“We could always report him ourselves,” Alistair said, weighing up the options. “But that doesn’t explain why Skip suddenly went missing, and any report we file would have to be done anonymously. There’s always the risk that, in the absence of further evidence, the police would fail to get a warrant to seize his computer.”
“How about we talk to Skip about it before we go jumping to conclusions,” Caroline suggested. “She’s an intelligent girl. Some careful explaining would go a long way towards getting her to understand what’s at stake.”
Ten minutes later, Skip was sitting at the table with them. Silas and Tank had been sent away, so as not to overwhelm her, and Alistair had offered to make himself scarce as well, at least until they knew whether she would cooperate. If not, then he would need to concoct an alternative plan, but it was worth letting Baron and Heron try first.
Skip was staring morosely at the table, Heron having just explained to her that her father had reported her missing. “Do I have to go home?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
“No,” Heron reassured her quickly. “We said you could stay, and we meant it. But because your father doesn’t know where you are, the police are going to be looking for you.”
“I don’t want them to find me,” Skip said, with just a hint of belligerence. “I don’t want to go back there.”
“Do you realise that what he and his friends were doing was illegal?” Heron asked carefully.
Skip shrugged. “Yeah, but the police won’t do anything.” When she noticed the frowns around her, she became slightly defensive. “He’s a councillor. He’s important. He said the police would think I was lying, and then I’d get into trouble. And then he was going to take my computer away.”
Heron glanced at Baron, who looked as out of his depth as she was. “Well, he can’t get you in trouble any more,” she pointed out, not sure how to proceed. “And we’re buying you a new computer. And even though he’s an important person, that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to break the law. I promise you, the police aren’t going to think you’re lying.”
“So… I could tell the police, and then he couldn’t do it any more?” Skip clarified, making Heron feel a wave of relief that she seemed inclined to cooperate, even if she wasn’t quite convinced that their plan would work.
“That’s right,” Baron confirmed. “He couldn’t hurt you any more. Or anyone else, either.”
Skip’s face paled at that, and Heron wondered if Baron had just made a serious blunder. Perhaps the idea that her father might be hurting other children hadn’t occurred to her. “Then we have to tell the police,” Skip blurted out, her face alarmed. “Are there others? I thought it was just me. His friends… do you think they go to other people’s houses and do the same thing?”
“We don’t just think so,” Simon said grimly. “We have evidence that he is already doing that.”
“Then we have to stop him,” Skip said determinedly. “How do we stop him?”
“I have everything you need right here,” Simon said, opening a laptop and pulling up a file. “We’d need to take you down to a police station. You can show them your ID – you have a student card or something, right?” Skip nodded. “Okay, so you tell them that you
left home voluntarily, you’re staying with a friend, and you don’t want to go back. And then you can just give them this letter.”
He turned the laptop around to show Skip the letter he’d composed earlier. It detailed the evidence they’d found on her father’s computer that he had been hurting other children, then asked that the police investigate the matter further. It was straightforward, factual, and more importantly, left out anything about Skip being one of the victims of her father’s crimes.
Skip read the letter slowly, her expression tight. When she’d finished, she nodded. “Yeah. That’s good.”
“Is there anything in there you’d like to change?” Heron asked, not wanting to manipulate her into doing anything she wasn’t comfortable with. “Or do you have any questions about it?”
Skip shook her head. “No. That’s pretty much what I would have said anyway.”
“Okay,” Baron said, relieved that that part, at least, was solved relatively simply. “Heron and Silas can take you to the station this afternoon. Don’t worry, the police can’t make you go home. And once they have that letter, they can start their investigation.”
After they had all thanked Skip and sent her on her way, Baron turned back to the group. “I’ll ask Alistair to monitor the news for anything on her father’s arrest, and Simon, could you keep track of things via the police database? If anything goes wrong, I want an immediate heads up.” Simon nodded. Hopefully, if the police did their job, this would be the end of it, but it was always a good idea to stay one step ahead of any problems.
“Is there anything else we need to cover now, or is that it for the time being?” Everyone shook their heads. There would be more to discuss later, but for now, the most important issues had been dealt with. “Then if you’ll excuse me,” Baron said, standing up, “I need to go and prepare for Nia’s arrival. And given the mood Anna’s been in lately, I’m expecting the mother of all shit-storms to start up the moment she sets foot inside the door.”