“He said I’m under your skin.”
“He did.”
“Am I?”
She stood, paced, and I worried she was about to make a run for it. I wanted to stand, show her it was a bad idea, but I needed to test her, too. I straightened my legs in front of me, crossed them at the ankles so I looked totally relaxed, and gave her my cockiest grin as I asked, “Why do you want to know? Because I’m under yours, maybe?”
She put her hands on her hips, changed her mind, and crossed them over her chest. I could tell the movement hurt, but knew it’d feel good in a few seconds, once her muscles moved to accommodate the stretch after being bound behind her back so long.
Her voice let me know how pissed she still was, the pain reminding her she hated me as she spouted, “Get real, you’re nothing but a fucking
animal
, not even human, as far as I’m concerned.”
I stilled, my eyes focused on her as I sized her up. Did she know? There’d been nothing in the data she hacked to let her know we were werewolves. Had she hacked someone’s email? She had enough info on all of our guys, it wouldn’t have been hard to social engineer most of them enough to figure out their passwords. Never mind I’d coached them all on good versus bad passwords, I knew they still used obvious dictionary words and names. I knew some of them slipped and talked about being a werewolf online, too, despite the fact they’d been warned not to. Email seemed so private to them… safe.
I took a breath, filled my sinuses with her scent, and didn’t smell anything to tell me one way or another. She was still in distress from the cage, still hurting, and the nuances of whether she was testing me to see if I was really a werewolf weren’t going to show up amongst all of the pain and stress.
I reminded myself it wouldn’t do for me to broadcast how much it bothered me to be called an animal, so I nodded and said, “In your eyes, I suppose I am. The offer still stands to help you get the kinks worked out of your arms and shoulders, but I’ll keep my distance if you don’t want me near you.”
Her glare was answer enough, and I told her, “I’ll see what I can come up with so you can shower before bed tonight. It smells like the steaks are about ready, and I have potatoes in the oven, though they’ll probably need a trip to the microwave to finish. I’m not big on salads, but you seem to buy a lot of lettuce, so I got some for you.” I stood and motioned towards the door. “C’mon, let’s try to eat dinner without sniping at each other too much. I promise not to leave you alone with Bash again. All I can do is apologize. I’m sorry for the way he treated you.”
“You want me to sit down and eat a meal with the man who…” She sat on the bed, pulled her feet to her chest, and suddenly looked so damned
small
.
I wanted to go to her, but knew it was likely she was scared of me, too. I stood in place, my arms at my side, and tried not to look threatening. “I can’t leave you in here alone, and we need to eat. I’m game for getting our food and bringing it in here, but you’ll have to come to the kitchen with me to get the food.” I shook my head. “I’m not of a mind to tie you up right now. Please work with me, so I don’t have to?”
“If this is some sick version of good cop/bad cop, I
will
find a way to retaliate.”
Something in my gut loosened. Bash hadn’t completely broken her. Her spunk was still in there, it would come back.
I had to know if he’d done anything besides what I’d seen, so I asked, “Did he… did he do anything besides put you in the cage and tie you up?”
She looked at me a few seconds, debating how to answer, and finally looked away. “No. What he did was bad enough, though.”
Her smell told me she’d considered lying, but chose not to accuse him of something he hadn’t done. I’d think on that more later, for now, I said, “Agreed. I just needed to be sure he didn’t touch you, more than necessary to restrain you.”
“It isn’t like you’d do anything if he had.” She stood and walked past me, towards the door. “You’re right, I’m hungry. And if you have some kind of pain killer or NSAID, I’d appreciate an appropriate dose.”
It cost her something to admit she needed something for pain, and I followed her without comment. We didn’t have anything, but I’d send Bash for it, later.
Bash was coming in the back door with the steaks as we entered the kitchen, and his expression was full of disbelief when I told Ice to put the salads together.
“I’ll cut the tomatoes,” said Bash. “She can’t have a knife.”
“Yeah, she can. Did you call Duke?”
“He’s driving up in the morning, says I’m to stay here, make sure you don’t do anything boneheaded like let her use a knife.”
“I’m watching her. I can’t stay at this level of alert forever, and she’ll have to be bound later, but she’s fine right now.”
“You thinking with your dick is gonna get that knife stuck in your back, and I’m not gonna let the cunt hurt another of my brothers. I’ll cut the tomatoes.”
Ice slapped the knife on the counter and turned with her hands out, to show them empty. I understood why when she told Bash, “I’d put it in your eye before I put it in his back. I’m going to wash the lettuce. Cut the damned tomatoes. I want them diced, not in slices, and don’t fucking mangle them.”
She turned her back on him, walked the lettuce to the sink, and started washing it. Bash’s expression was priceless, and I reminded him, “You wanted to cut them. Have at it.”
Now that she’d ordered him to, he no longer wanted to, and I turned my back on him to remove the aluminum foil from the hot potatoes. A quick cut through one confirmed they weren’t ready, and I put them in the microwave to finish.
Ice
Brain had told me we could take our food to the bedroom, but I walked my dish to the kitchen table and sat.
I refused to let the bastards break me.
Brain showed me the zip-tie as he neared me, and I forced myself to stay seated.
“Just gonna do one ankle to the chair, so I can relax a little as we eat. I gave you all the time free I can, for now.”
I reminded myself he wasn’t putting me in a cage, and was trying to give me as much dignity as he could. I shrugged and said, “Whatever. I’m gonna be sitting here, anyway.”
He put it on tight enough I couldn’t slip my foot out, but not so tight it hurt, thank goodness. I looked at the table and focused on my breathing, determined not to let them see the panic threatening to take over. I wiggled my foot and analyzed the situation as I forced myself to sit still and remain calm. If they left me alone I could probably stand and pull the leg of the chair out, but when he handed me a steak knife, I realized this was about me eating like a human, cutting my own food as I ate without them having to worry I’d lunge at them and cut them. They were both out of my reach.
They had no idea I was an expert knife thrower, apparently.
I hadn’t been joking about wanting to sink it in Bash’s eye.
I’d hacked into the Atlanta Police Department’s servers a while back, and written myself a back door so I could easily get back in even if they changed the passwords. When I’d realized it was Brain after me, I’d gone into the gang enforcement division’s notes, found what they’d written about the RTMC, and laughed at the suggestion the club was a group of werewolves, since their numbers were always decimated during the three nights of the full moon.
But, as much as I thought myself crazy for entertaining the notion… it would explain a whole helluva lot, and Bash seeming to
smell
Brain before saying he knew Brain had fucked two women
really
had my curiosity up.
Could you kill a werewolf by sinking a knife in their eye? Would their faster-than-human reflexes catch it in mid-air?
I nonchalantly experimented around with the weight as I cut my steak, getting the feel and balance of it as best I could, without being obvious. We ate in uncomfortable silence, but the men weren’t watching me too closely, either.
I observed Bash out of the corner of my eye, the tempo he ate, the way he leaned down to take a bite, and sat back up to chew. If I timed it as he leaned forward, while he was putting food in his mouth, his hands would be occupied and I’d have the best chance of him not reaching up to catch it. He was a good four feet away, could I do it with an untested knife? Did I dare try?
I worked through the plan in my head — throw the knife, stand, lift the chair out of the zip-tie, and run like hell out the backdoor. The deck was only five feet off the ground, and landing on the ground barefoot would hurt, but jumping off would be way faster than using the steps. I could run into the woods, climb a tree, and after Brain ran past me, I’d climb down and run the other direction — down the mountain instead of up. If I thought Bash was dead, I could come in the house and get his keys, drive the Expedition down the mountain, but…
shit
. Could I really throw the knife with the intention of killing him?
If Brain were being honest, they were going to help me get a new life, and after tomorrow I wouldn’t have to see Bash again. Did I believe him?
I sighed as I put the knife down, realizing I wasn’t going to aim it at Bash’s eye. Werewolves didn’t exist, he wouldn’t miraculously heal from a knife into the brain, and I wasn’t prepared to take someone’s life when my life and safety didn’t seem to be in imminent danger.
I’d killed before, and would do it again if I had to, but this wasn’t a situation where I had to.
Brain
I wasn’t sure what she’d been planning, but I knew when she decided against it. I glanced at Bash, realized he knew, too.
“She sleeps in the cage, tonight.”
“No,” I told him. “She sleeps in a bed. We can lock her in with the cuffs.”
He shook his head. “Not gonna happen.”
I held his gaze as I told him, “I’m in charge of her, and she isn’t going back in the cage.”
“You were in charge of capturing her. Now that we have her? I’m not sure you’re thinking straight. Duke can decide how to move forward tomorrow, but for tonight, she’s in the cage.”
He flexed his fist, letting me know he was prepared to fight me if I didn’t agree.
I was taller, but Bash was a scrapper and we both knew he’d kick my ass if we fought. I’d worked my way to Duke’s second in command with strategy, not by fighting my way to the top with my fists.
I saw the knife fly through the air, quickly registered it wasn’t close to either Bash or I, and turned in my chair to see it sunk into the dartboard in the den, twenty feet away.
It wouldn’t have gone into the very center, as it was bigger than a dart, so I assume she’d aimed for the second ring, which was where it was sunk.
She looked at Bash and said, “If I wanted you dead, it’d be in your eye. I’m not going to kill you in your sleep, but you put me in that fucking
cage
again and I’ll reconsider how long I think your lifespan should be.”
Bash stood, grabbed her fork, and sat back down — too fast, and I noted the way she looked at him. Yeah, I was going to have to get to the bottom of what she knew… or what she thought she knew. She was already terrified, so that was the only scent I got off her. Not helpful.
“Like I said,” I told Bash. “She’s a genius, and you might keep her captive a short time, but it’ll only be a matter of time before she outsmarts you and is miles away. She isn’t a killer,
yet
, but you keep pushing her? She’s close to the edge, brother. You’re gonna have to trust me to know how to deal with her, and putting her back in the cage is the wrong damned move.”
I looked at Ice’s plate, saw she still had food to eat, and instead of arguing with Bash about the fork, went to the silverware drawer and retrieved one of the plastic forks I’d seen earlier. I cut the rest of her steak for her without saying anything, and then sat back at my place to finish eating.
Bash was clearly pissed, so I took the opportunity to tell him, “We’ll handle the dishes. I need you to run into town and pick up some Tylenol.”
“I’d prefer coated aspirin, if I get a choice.”
Her voice was tentative, her eyes cautious, and I smiled at her before offering, “If you use a brand of shampoo and conditioner he can get at the drug store, he can pick some of that up, too.”
“I have the brand I use in my backpack.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, until I have a chance to go through it, you can’t have anything from your backpack. Bash can pick something up for you, otherwise you’re stuck with using my stuff.”
Would she have put a weapon in her conditioner bottle? Probably not, but it wasn’t a chance I was prepared to take.
She looked at her plate in silence a handful of seconds, and finally told me a brand and type without looking up.
I was about to repeat it to Bash, but she added, “Mother nature should be visiting me soon. If I can’t use the supplies from my backpack, I’ll need new. He can look at what I have to know what to get.”
I looked to Bash, and dared him to refuse.
He gave a curt nod, and I made a mental note to look at the underwear I’d taken off her, and tell him the size and style so he could buy her a pack.
Ice
Bash was gone to the store, and Brain and I had finished the dishes and were seated on the sofa. He had his own laptop on his legs, and he handed me three sheets of paper, each with a modified picture of me, and a bunch of text under it.
“The first picture is what you’d look like with Christine’s nose, and is the most extensive change as far as surgery. The second is what a surgeon could plausibly do with it, assuming her nose is messed up when it hits the tree. It’s how he’d improve it, if given the option. The final version requires the least amount of invasive surgery, and it’s another believable option, though a less flattering one, in the plastic surgeon’s opinion.
I read through the text of all three, set the first one aside, and debated between the other two. Finally, I said, “Let’s go with the second option for now, but once we’ve looked at all of the other changes, I may want to revisit the nose.”
He nodded and put the second option on his screen, and then handed me two more pages. “Christine’s hairline is different from yours, and her hair is long. You’ll need to get a new driver’s license in whatever state you land, and we’ll need to arrange for extensions for the picture. It’ll be possible to hide your hairline with different hairstyles, but you’ll need to be sure you always do so for any government picture, and it might be safer for him to alter it to something closer to hers. It would require he take skin from your scalp and transplant it behind your temples, so your hairline is closer to your face on the side. He says it’s close enough above your forehead.”
I read through the information, and nodded. “Yeah, okay. If I’m going to have long hair I’m gonna want the option of a ponytail.”
He handed me another image, and I couldn’t tell what the change was but the girl in the picture was certainly prettier than me, even though it was me.
“Christine’s chin is more prominent than yours, this is a chin implant.”
“Yeah,” I told him. “Let’s go with that.”
“You haven’t read through the information.”
I sighed, glanced over it, and told him again. “We’re doing the chin implant.”
He handed me yet another stack of pages. “The lips are the most complicated, but before you look over them, here is how you’ll look with the changes so far.” He put a picture of me as I am now on the left hand side of his screen, the modified picture of me in the center, and what I assumed to be Christine’s driver’s license photo on the right side of the screen.
“Your lips are full, hers are thin. He says they’d never manage to make her lips look as good as yours while fixing a face damaged in a snow-skiing accident. I suggested you change everything else, and if anyone asks you can claim to have started getting injections to plump your lips up, like the stars do, only not as exaggerated.”
He motioned towards the pages in my hands, and I saw why he was reluctant for me to go this route. Making my lips thinner made me… not as attractive.
I took a breath and thought it through logically instead of emotionally. “If I’m taking on her identity, this isn’t about vanity, but survival.” I motioned towards his screen and said, “Show me all the lip options he provided, one by one, with about five seconds between each.”
I hated them all, but vanity couldn’t be the deciding factor. If I was going to change identities, I needed to do it right. Not ready to decide on the lips, I told him, “Go back to
my
lips and let me see what you have so far with the third nose, instead of the second.”
I shook my head and waved him back to the second nose. “It won’t add that much time to my recovery, since I’m doing the chin implant. May as well do it right.”
I showed him the printed page with the lips I thought most looked like hers. “If I was advising someone else, I’d go with these, but I want to talk to the doctor and see if he has any other ideas. Also, whether my lips, as they are, could plausibly be hers with injections.”
He nodded, saved the image, typed up some notes, closed his laptop, and put it on the coffee table.
“When Duke gets here tomorrow I’m going to need to get some work done, which means it’ll be the two of you, with me in another room. I need him to like and trust you, so he’ll let me stay in charge when he brings someone else in.” He tilted my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eyes. I glared at him as he asked, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah. How do I know he won’t treat me like Bash?”
“You smart off to him too much, try to attack him, or make another escape attempt, he may very well treat you
worse
, and I won’t have the authority to stop him. I can try to talk reason to him, but… he’s our president, and it won’t be up for a vote.”
“Yeah, okay. I get it. Make Duke like me.”
“Good.” He smiled, tilted his head. “We need to decide what to call you. Crystal is close to Christine, but if you want to pick another long term name, now’s probably the time.”
* * * *
Brain
She sighed and said, “I want to be Destiny. Crystal was only because it was a play on words with Ice.” She was quiet, thinking, and I didn’t interrupt her thoughts. Finally, she asked, “What’s her middle name?”
“Grace.”
Her smile was huge as she said, “If I can’t have Destiny or Faith, Grace is almost perfect. If I’m going for a new beginning, it should be with a name I’ve never used before.”
I nodded. “Grace it is, then. I’m always going to think of you as Ice, but I can get used to Grace. Besides, it almost rhymes. Sort of.” She didn’t look convinced, so I laughed and said, “Fine, it ends in the same syllable. Picky.”
She smiled back, and my heart almost melted. Was this the first happy smile she’d directed towards me? Shit. I needed to do to more so I could see it — her entire face lit up. She was always beautiful, but when she smiled? Damn. I was okay with a different nose and chin, but I really wanted her to keep her lips. And her eyes. Bash had told me her eyes creeped him out, but they just endeared her to me all the more.