Beasthood (The Hidden Blood Series) (15 page)

             
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 10
th
, 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, she 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 16
th
, 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.

             
She smiled sweetly at him, revealing her shining, big teeth. Her luminous orange lipstick making her whole face light up. Her honey brown eyes twinkled at him.

             
It gave him the twist of his arm he needed to ignore her careless outburst and get down to business. “I suppose we should. It has, I believe, been on everyone's mind.” By the silent curiosity in the room, and exchange of looks when he said this, Arik was proven to be correct.

“
Can I ask how she is coping? I haven't even seen her yet and it's been over a week,” Tyra questioned, looking between Arik and Maria who was sitting in the middle on the right-hand side of the long table.

“
She is coping, well,” came Maria's reply. The old woman eyed the pretty, caramel-chocolate skinned woman uneasily, though because it was her, the expression wasn't so obvious on her face.

             
Tyra didn't spot it but she heard the hesitation in Maria's voice. It was enough to aggravate her suspicions. “So why haven't we seen her? Edda needs to evaluate her progress. She should be housed in an Early Phase Cabin by now.”

             
Maria's daughter, Erica, was sitting at the back. She had come, specifically, to hear about this subject. She was a member of the council, but hadn't contributed at all. Her mind had been too busy worrying about her niece.

“
She isn't ready,” came Maria's cold reply.

             
Tyra arched a threaded brow. “Meaning?”

             
There was an awkward pause. Arik gazed at Maria and bobbed his head once to encourage her. When she felt she had the all clear, she explained. “She hasn't shown much signs of Change, yet.”

“
So she hasn't phased?” Maria shook her head slowly. “Not once?” Maria glared at Tyra. Tyra stared, unflinching.

“
So,” came a soft, buttery French accent. Everyone turned to Lamont. He gazed at Maria with his flirtatious, yet gentle, mocha eyes; his black skin shiny from the heat as he said, “she's been here a week, amongst us, after been given the 'Phaser Drink' and nothing?” His voice went high on the last word, his thick accent making it sound like 'nawtheeng?'

“
Correct,” Maria responded coolly. Lamont stared at Maria incredulously. “Her toenails have grown out, and she hasn't been well. She goes in and out of fevers, has a strong desire for raw meat but apart from that, there's not much else I can tell you.”

“
So what you're saying, is that there's no proof she is even one of us?” Tyra pushed.