Beasts and Savages (The Beastly Series Book 1) (35 page)

Miller was helpful when I made requests and followed my demands when I took care of the girls, though he was spiteful about it. He never called me by my name. He always said ‘you’ or ‘princess’ if he had to call me anything. The other boys thought that princess was his pet name for me, and neither of us corrected them. Even when we were alone, he was never mean to me. His aloofness was almost more unsettling than if he would just yell at me and get it over with. I tried picking a fight with him once, just to get a reaction. He said nothing before he bolted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“You sure you want to go today?” Miller dropped a hunk of stale bread on the bedside table.

“I’ll be fine.” I insisted between shivers.

“It’s freezing out there and I think you have a fever. I sent for Flynn.” He handed me a cool washcloth and towel and turned to the hall. “Flynn! Come in and take a look at her.”

“I’m not sick.” I wiped my face roughly.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow as his eyes shot to my stomach. “Do you know yet?”

“No. It’s only been a week. I told you, these things take time.” I tucked a piece of dry bread into my mouth and swallowed. It hurt my throat going down; maybe I was sick, but I wasn’t going to admit it. Miller might refuse to escort me anywhere.

“Well, hurry up. My father, the council, is getting impatient, and the women have stopped all communication.”

“Miller, If you’d read anything that I’ve given you, you’d know she has no control over when she knows.” Flynn flashed a smile at me as he strode into the room. “How ya feeling?”

“I’m
fine
,” I insisted as they exchanged glances.

Miller huffed, “I’ll be waiting outside.”

Flynn placed the back of his hand on my forehead. “You have a fever,” he told me as he checked my bandaged hands. “Which hand hurts? You probably have an infection.” He gave me a stern look. “I don’t know why you insist on doing this to yourself.”

I tugged at my hand. “It’s my right one, okay? I know it’s infected, but I had to do it.”

Flynn held it, and began to unwrap the bandage. There was a large white knot on the back of my hand, just under my knuckles. He pushed on it, and I sucked in air. A flash of pain went through my hand to the tips of my fingers as white pus burst through my skin.

“This is going to hurt, but it needs to be done.” Flynn’s voice was firm, but sympathetic. He led me to the table and held my hand over a bowl. When he picked up alcohol, I flinched and turned my face. My wrist twitched when the fire hit my wound, and Flynn tightened his grip. By the time he finished, my arm was shaking.

“You’re almost done, right?” I asked through clenched teeth. The pain had faded, but still overpowering.

“I am. I’ll put some salve on it, and stop wearing bandages, it needs to air out. You’re going to have to clean it yourself, every night.” He plucked a small white envelope from his pocket. “This is the last of the antibiotics. The women … they haven’t made a delivery since you’ve been here. So please, stop doing this to yourself.”

I gasped. “You’re giving me the last of your medicine? Flynn, no. I’ll be fine. Keep it for someone who’s really sick. I’ll clean it and take care of myself, I promise.”

He pressed the envelope in my good hand. “You’re getting a fever. You need it, and I know you won’t rest. Miller said he was waiting for you. You’re obviously going somewhere today.” Flynn gave me a knowing grin and his blue eyes flashed. He was patient, yet firm. He’d make a good doctor.

While he fixed up my hand, I considered asking him about Tanner, and then reconsidered. I’d waited up all night that night, hoping he’d come talk to me. I hadn’t seen him since. Though I didn’t expect him to forgive me, I just wanted him to listen.

“You’re all set, Lea … I’ll hold you to your promise. Take care of yourself.” He sat extra bandages and salve on the table next to the alcohol.

“Flynn?” I asked as he reached the door, “Does Tanner ever ask about me?” I fiddled with my hair as I waited on the answer.  I hated asking¸ it felt so immature, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to know.

Flynn looked back at me and answered, “I’m sorry, Lea, he hasn’t. But he’s been studying everything I give him and comes to me every day with questions.” His eyes were full of pity, and he ruffled his short hair as if his answer made him anxious. He added, “He’s making a great assistant.”

“Oh.” I could feel my cheeks flush.

Miller waited in the hall while I pulled on my pants and slipped into my boots. Locke had given me a red wool button up to wear over my short-sleeved shirt. He’d also given me a box of coats to sort through. He wanted me to find something warmer than the jacket I was wearing. But I clung to Tanner's jacket. I folded up the collar as a pulled it on and buried my face in it. It still smelled like Tanner: soap and wood smoke, with a hint of something I couldn't place.

“I need to check traps along the way.” He called behind him as he bounded down the stairs.

I didn't respond to him. It was this new found freedom that I couldn't adapt to. I still lived in Locke's room, but the door no longer remained locked. I could wander the house or even the yard. If I wanted to go farther, I could, as long as Miller was willing to escort me. He was always around, waiting like a shadow in the corner of my eye. If I turned too quickly I wouldn't see him, but I felt his presence.

Frigid air rushed through the doorway as we stepped outside. The sky was icy blue and bright. A light snow had fallen and the late fall sun made everything glow with a silvery sparkle. There was a satisfying crunch under my boots. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The air was clean as well. No lingering smoke or dust, the air was filled with sunshine and snow.

I heard a thwack sound and felt an impact on my shoulder. A little face peeked around the house, followed by two more. I scooped up some snow and threw it in their direction before running the same way. As I rounded the corner, I heard giggles and was pelted with three snowballs at once. I slung snow back and ran to a nearby bush for cover. Halfway there, small hands grabbed my arms and legs, pulling me to the ground.

“What was that for?” I laughed.

“Make snow angels with us Lea,” a little boy demanded.

“Snow angels?”

“Like this.” He plopped on his back next to me and moved his outstretched arms and legs. The other boys dropped next to him and made their own snow angels. The first boy sat up carefully and tried to hop out of the shape he had made.

I studied the markings in the snow and smiled at him. “Very nice.”

“I left boot marks,” he mumbled. The other boys ambled over and begged me to look at their work. I assured all the boys that their snow angels were the best I had seen.

“Lea!” Miller called from the side of the house, “Quit playing in the snow. You're going to get sick. Let's go!” He turned, not waiting to see if I followed.

I rolled my eyes. “Sorry guys, I have to go with Miller now. If I get back in time, we can play some more, okay?”

The youngest kicked at the snow. “Miller is no fun.”

“I know.” I replied and jogged to catch up.

“Your clothes aren't heavy enough for you to be rolling in the snow and you don't have gloves. Here, take my hat.” He tossed a black knit hat in my direction.

“Don't you need your hat? I have more hair than you.”

“Your hair is pulled up and doesn't cover your ears. And now, it's wet.” His jaw was set and his eyes had a glint of steel in them. He was angry, and it was over more than just the snow.

“How many girls are in the last house?” I tried to keep track, but days and places were running together. I asked Locke for a notebook and pen and he looked at me like I had grown three heads.

“Three. In a room in a farmhouse like ours. It's almost a day's travel, and it’ll be longer because I’m checking traps along the way. We’ll get there in time to sleep, spend the next day and night, and come back. By then, the first group of girls will be ready to move to the bunker.” Miller had taken over Tanner's place in organizing the girl's placement in the bunker.

When we got to the first snare I heard a faint squeaking noise. A gray rabbit hung from a thin cord, thrashing wildly. Miller swore under his breath before he reached up to hold the cord while he cut it with his knife. The cord was a piece of vine and was tangled around the animal's neck and front leg.

“Want to do the honors?” Miller held the rabbit out to me.

“What?” I backed away from him.

“It didn't strangle, so now I have to snap its neck.” Miller clutched the animal close to him and pulled the cord off. “Watch.” He stroked the rabbit behind its ears, and with a sudden swift movement twisted its head and turned it at a severe angle. There was a sound of tiny bones crunching, and the rabbit went still.

“This is a good one. Normally, I would skin it and tie it up in a tree for later, but I think we should take this one with us. It would be nice of us to bring dinner.” He smiled.

“You killed it.” I whispered. Flashes of the girl dying in the basement rushed over me. I willed my eyes off of the dead animal, but they refused to move.

“What do you think we eat?” He shrugged. “I've changed my mind. I'm going to teach you how to skin this rabbit. You can't be protected from our - your - way of life forever.”

“I know. I just didn't realize it was so brutal.” I swallowed. I knew I was being ridiculous by comparing a rabbit to a person.

“Death is a part of life, Lea. Something always has to die for others to survive. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be.” Miller held out the rabbit, its body hanging limp from its head.

“You sound like my teacher, Ms. Dawning. Except she was talking about boys.” I stroked the dead rabbit's fur as I lay it on the stone. “I refused to kill then; I refuse to kill now.”

“Do you like the fur? I could make gloves for you.” He warmed my hand, red from the cold, between his palms. It was the first time he had touched me since we mated. His hands were soft, almost moist and very warm. They were smaller than Tanner's, yet still larger than mine. There were no callouses, no scars or imperfections. There weren't any sparks either; only a deep ache for Tanner rising to the surface of my emotions.

“Miller why do you hate me?” I whispered.

At first I thought he didn't hear me. I opened my mouth to repeat the question when he dropped my hand and ran his own through his hair. He let out a breath and finally looked at me. His eyes were striking in a way I hadn't notice before. Deep set and as blue as the sky, they reflected glitter in the snow.