by JJ King
“Just stand still.” He spoke quietly as though he was afraid to spook her, as though she was a frightened bunny rabbit who’d wandered too far from home.
He was right. She felt more fragile than she’d ever felt in her entire life. It was a terrifying feeling that was somehow made completely ok by the fact that Quinn was by her side. It felt right to let him see her fragility, for him to take care of her.
She stood under the rain showerhead and let the hot water cascade over her skin, washing away any trace of Raphael. The water that ran into the drain was a dark brown mixed with red and she was glad to see it disappear.
The first touch of the soaped up puff on her skin made a shiver climb up her spine. Quinn rubbed it gently over her back and shoulders, careful to avoid the still aggravated areas of healing skin.
Katherine leaned back against Quinn’s body and felt the buttons of his shirt against her skin. She twisted her head to look at him.
“I want to feel your skin.”
It wasn’t sexual, she didn’t have the energy for that, and Quinn’s eyes seemed to acknowledge that. It amazed her that he always seemed to know exactly what it was that she needed. His clothes came off quickly and landed in a sopping wet pile on the bathroom floor then he was pressing up behind her, his skin wet and warm against hers.
Quinn’s hands roamed over her body slowly, cleaning her skin and, miraculously, her soul. She felt safe again and whole.
Katherine moaned quietly when Quinn’s hand made their way to her hair and began scrubbing against her scalp with a shampoo that smelled of pomegranate. The sensations helped her mind float away from the terror of her abduction and, for a moment, she almost forgot. She felt almost clean.
“Do you know that your name means Pure, little Katherine?”
A wave of nausea washed over her and she let out a cry and shrunk into herself instinctively. Quinn’s arm grabbed her and held on as she collapsed on the tile floor and began to sob. Great heaves wracked her body, sending wrenching pain throughout her abdomen where her internal organs were still healing.
She cried until there were no more tears. Quinn’s arms never left her, his fingers smoothed her hair and his lips brushed against her face over and over while he made soothing sounds and rocked her. When she finally stopped, Quinn stood and lifted her into his arms then walked with her to her bed and set her down gently.
He never spoke a word. He used a thick towel he’d grabbed on the way out of the bathroom to rub her skin dry then he found a white cotton nightgown and pulled it over her head, settling it down around her thighs.
The thick down duvet felt like home when he pulled it up over her body then turned to go. Katherine felt a moment of intense anxiety and reached out her arm toward him.
“Don’t leave me!”
Quinn turned and smiled down at her then brushed a wet curl from her forehead. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered. “I’ll just turn off the light.”
He crawled into bed with her and turned her onto her side. His arm wrapped around her and pulled her body back into his. He smelled like caramel and apples.
Katherine sighed once then fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty One
For the first time in years, Katherine slept in until noon the next day. She slept fitfully, dreams tearing into her subconscious and keeping her far away from true rest.
Quinn was there, beside her or in the room somewhere nearby, whenever she woke, sometimes screaming, sometimes covered in a cold sweat. He brought her glasses of ice water and damp cloths to wipe her forehead. More importantly, he held her and sang her back to sleep over and over, without complaint.
From time to time, Sylvie would drop by and knock softly at the door. Katherine remembered each quiet question and each response as if she’d watched it happen through a fog. The sound of her mother’s voice each time soothed her back to sleep for a little while and kept the dreams at bay.
When she finally got up, Katherine was shocked to find her body whole and healthy. She wandered to a mirror and pulled her nightgown up around her breasts. She traced a finger across her skin where Raphael had skewered her but found no imperfections, no trace of the brutal assault.
For one moment she wished desperately that the marks hadn’t faded because now people wouldn’t see the physical after effects of his attack. Only the mental effects remained and no one could see those. She wondered how long it would take her soul to heal.
“It won’t happen overnight my love,” Quinn’s voice came from the corner where he sat in a wicker chair watching her intently. “It’ll take time, no one can say how long, but eventually you’ll let it go and feel whole again. I’ll be here for you; I’ll always be here.”
Katherine felt her eyes fill with tears and she wiped them away roughly. A surge of anger suffused her and she felt a moment of strength as she embraced the feeling and focused more on revenge than pity for herself. She gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes, feeling ready to fight.
Quinn stood and walked to her side. He brushed a finger against her cheek and tipped her chin up so her eyes met his. He smiled. “There’s my girl. We’re going to get him and make him pay for everything he’s done.”
Katherine could feel her cheeks stained red with a barely controlled rage that felt amazing, especially compared to the heightened sense of fear that had been her constant companion since the moment Raphael had taken her. She whirled around and grabbed a small statue from her dressing table and threw it at the floor. The porcelain exploded into a million fragments and just lay there.
“That felt good.” She smiled.
Multiple psychology classes in University had taught her the stages of acceptance and she knew damn well that her anger was perfectly normal so she embraced it with everything she had. It felt better than being weak, being fragile and unable to function. Anger was good.
She grabbed Quinn’s hand and ran to the door then down the hall. She took the stairs three at a time, almost killing Quinn who still hung on for dear life, and burst into her father’s study.
Pierre and Anthony looked up from the desk with twin expressions of worry then, as they saw her face, happiness. Pierre straightened and grinned crookedly at his daughter then asked, “Clay pigeons?”
Pierre looked to Anthony who just gave a nod then rushed out of the door, giving his sister a big kiss on the cheek as he passed her. Quinn looked around a little confused.
“We have a tradition in this family Quinn,” Pierre explained as he closed the file he and Anthony had been studying and walked over to Katherine who stepped into his embrace then grinned up at him. “We take our anger out on clay pigeons instead of this house so that my beautiful wife doesn’t kill us, though in this case I’m sure Katherine could wreck the entire house and Sylvie wouldn’t so much as bat a lash.”
They pulled on shoes and walked to the back of the house, Pierre calling out to Sylvie, Ronan and Teagan as they went. Anthony had just finished setting up the trap and had several shotguns lain on a cast iron outdoor table.
Katherine walked to the table and picked up a Sporting Gun, cracked it open and loaded it swiftly and precisely. She chewed her lip while she waited for Anthony to step back and grab the release button then stepped forward and raised the gun to her shoulders, ready to release a little anger.
“This is for Maxwell you son of a bitch!” The first bird flew high fast but Katherine caught it before it even reached its full height.
“And this one’s for cutting me up you pathetic,” bang, “disgusting,” bang, “piece of shit!” Bang!
After each shot, a member of the family would hand Katherine a fresh gun, loaded and ready, which she immediately fired with no lapse in reaction.
The clay massacre didn’t last very long, just minutes, but when the smoke cleared from the last shot Katherine felt as though she’d regained a part of herself and decided that it was finally time for a drink.
♀♀♀
No one wanted to be the one to
bring up Katherine’s abduction even though everyone knew the questions had to be asked and answers had to be figured out. The mystery behind it was too big, too important to the family and their collective safety, especially Katherine’s, for it to be put on the back burner for too long.
Still, there was not one member of the family that would have volunteered to broach the topic until Katherine brought it up herself.
She leaned back against her mother’s legs and took a sip of the long island iced tea in her hand. The family was gathered now in the casual room where they often came to play games and watch movies together during holidays. The atmosphere was strange; there was a slightly forced relaxation with music playing softly in the background, as though everyone was still a little bit on edge.
The men were sitting at a table in the corner of the room playing a game of Texas Hold’em while Katherine relaxed at her mother’s feet and enjoyed having her hair played with. The touch of her mother’s hands on her head brought back years of fond memories, many of which happened right here in this room. She, like most of the family, enjoyed being touched and a good head rubbing was often exactly what the doctor ordered.
Katherine finished off her seventh drink and put her glass down. Unlike humans, who could get drunk so easily, wolves had a metabolism that raced and never really allowed for intoxication. To get seriously drunk would require a whole lot of booze and that kind of dedication wasn’t part of Katherine’s moral code.
She was feeling a little floaty, though, which was nice. It felt good to be with family, free of stress and a bit tipsy.
Which is why she was stunned when she heard herself say, “He told me that I had pure blood but that I needed to be put through tests to make sure I was who he thought I was.”
The room went silent. The men sat quietly at the table and waited for her to continue. She appreciated their self-control and knew that they all wanted to attack her with questions now that she was talking. She knew just how much she’d want to ask questions if the situation were reversed.
Sylvie kept running her hands through Katherine’s hair as though nothing had changed and her fingers felt like a lifeline, a security blanket to which Katherine could cling while she forced herself to relive the day before.
The day before? God, was it only yesterday?
She spoke low but the acoustics in the room were excellent so her voice was heard by all. “When I woke up I was in an abandoned barn about five hours northeast of here. There was a fire and I was tied up. He wasn’t there. I tried to get free…”
She could feel the splinters of the wood as though it were happening again and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. She couldn’t relive the pain of him cutting her. She’d stop and never talk about it again before she would let that happen. But for now, she had to bare her soul.
“He caught me and knocked me out again. When I came to the second time he was there and it was night. He was moving around the fire and mumbling to himself. Then he noticed I was awake and he told me that he had to test me.”
Sylvie’s arms pressed around her shoulders and held her. Only then did she realize she was shaking furiously.
“You’re safe, ma fille. We’re here.” Sylvie’s voice soothed her.
“He called me Mia sometimes and Katherine other times. I think he was confused. He told me that I would be a savior… then he cut me.”
She heard Quinn inhale in a hiss and she knew that he and her brothers and father were barely controlling their anger while she spoke. This next part, if she could tell it, would have them losing their grip on that control.
“He used iron first, a poker, and knives. Then he watched me heal and told me I had done well. I thought maybe it was over but then he took out a roll and… “
She breathed deeply and concentrated on her surroundings, reminding herself over and over that she was safe, that nothing could hurt her here.
“He had silver. Knives and bullets, I think. He cut me with the knives and pushed the bullets into the wounds. I don’t know why. He didn’t want to kill me or I’d be dead. I couldn’t fight back, I tried, but I couldn’t. I passed out. He was gone when I woke up so I got out of my binds and ran like hell. That’s when Quinn found me.”
The silence in the room was deafening. It was easy to hear the pronounced heartbeats of Pierre, Anthony, Ronan, Teagan, and Quinn. Even Sylvie’s breath sounded a little loud behind her. Katherine knew they’d all need a minute to acclimatize to the torturous story.
No one moved. Katherine could feel their eyes on her, as though they were waiting for her permission to explode. She pushed up from the floor and took her glass to the bar to refill it. When it was full, she turned around and leaned against a bar stool.
“Alright, go for it.”
Four voices asked a question all at the same time and the resulting cacophony would have been amusing if Katherine wasn’t still feeling weary from sharing her story. Only Quinn remained silent, she noticed.
Sylvie waved her hand at the others to be silent and they obeyed. “It’s ok to take your time sweetheart. We’ll just take it one question at a time.” She sent a look of rebuke at the men.
“Did he ever sound even a bit sane?” Ronan sounded like he would rather spit and punch someone that talk about Raphael.
She shook her head and gave a wry smile. “Not really. He just rambled and said weird oracle of Delphi type shit; stuff that no one understands unless they’re in on the secret.”
Katherine glanced at Quinn and noticed that he had his head lowered and his eyes closed, as though he was in pain. She knew how it would affect her if he’d been hurt so she forgave him his disassociation. There wasn’t really a way to comfort him now with all of her family around. Later, she’d talk to him and get him to talk it out with her.
The questions kept coming for a few minutes and she answered them all. She was feeling quite proud of herself for having apparently moved past anger into the acceptance portion of the program. She’d skipped right over bargaining and depression, though, in her situation, they weren’t really warranted. There was nothing to be bargained for and no point in depression. There was a sick murdering bastard to hunt down and bring to justice; this wasn’t the time for depression.
Sylvie clued up the question period after a while, giving the men a look that was firm and final. Even though she’d been able to talk about it without getting angry or sad, Katherine was still glad to be done with the interrogation for the day.
Teagan abandoned the poker table, gave Katherine a long hug that almost undid her and joined his mother on the couch then switched on the television. Like a regular guy, he flicked through the channels with lightning speed before settling on Myth Busters. The guys on the show were trying to blow up a cement building which always made for a good time. Plus, the theatrics were enough to break up the intensity of their conversation. Anthony sank down next to him, shoulder to shoulder with his brother.
Quinn remained seated at the small table after the others got up to watch the explosions on screen. Katherine walked over to him and sat on the chair by his side. She took his hands in her and found them cold and clammy.
“You’re not getting sick are you?”
He seemed to break out of his reverie when she spoke. He raised his head and she was shocked by how sad his eyes looked. She put a hand instinctively to his forehead.
He gave a weak smile. “No, I’m ok. I guess it’s just hard to know what he did to you. It makes me sick that his blood runs through my veins.”
She had no absolution for his relation to Raphael, blood was blood, but she knew that he was nothing like that madman so she told him that.
“Don’t even think for a second that you’re anything like him, Quinn. I love you; I couldn’t love someone like him.”
He smiled up at her, his eyes still worried and sad. She saw secrets in them and her heart lurched.
She took a deep breath and spoke in a low voice. “Quinn,” she chewed her lip, “do you k
now what he was talking about? Do you understand any of what Raphael said to me or why he took me?”
He shook his head and looked down at his hands, clasped tightly together in his lap. “I’m not sure. The stuff he said to you, it sounds crazy.” He glanced up at her and she saw something flash in his eyes. Uncertainty, fear. “You said he called you by another name?”
“Mia.” She watched his face carefully and didn’t miss the confusion that crossed his features. “Do you know what that means?”
He didn’t speak for a long minute. “I can’t say for sure but I could talk to my pack elders and see if they know anything.” His voice sounded broken.
Katherine itched to pick and pry at him until she found the truth but she was just too exhausted to slip into lawyer mode now. Besides, he looked as bad as she felt, so she’d trust him and give him time to speak with his elders about it before she brought it up again.