Black bird a nevermore d.., p.20
Black Bird: A Nevermore Duet, page 20
He pocketed the phone and made his way through the main lobby, nearly reaching the entrance when it went off again.
Sarah: people usually only store a contact if it’s someone they’re fairly fond of … if you’re saving mine, I think it’s only fair that I get one too
Exactly the reason he shouldn’t have sent anything … but again, that issue of his self-control …
Me: didn’t the newspapers give you enough photos of me?
She’d probably have his ass for that jab, but he smiled and kept walking toward the parking lot.
Ding.
Sarah: oh, you’re giving me one … or I’ll be taking it by force.
Something fluttered in his gut with that one. It’d be the biggest lie he’d ever told if he said it didn’t excite him to think of the ways she could force it out of him.
Me: I look forward to it.
The three little dots danced above the keyboard, and he paused, smiling to himself.
Sarah: … you’re gonna regret that remark. just wait until you see the wig I’m gonna put on you. ;)
“Psycho …” He grinned, sliding the phone into his pocket, and hauling a leg over his bike.
It had been a long drive. Longer than the usual thirty minutes it normally took to get there with how many times Rhaena had to stop or pull over to gather herself. Her heart was pounding so hard in her heaving chest that she was sure it would fail her this time. She tried to remind herself that she thought that every month, especially during the daylight hours that she spent preparing herself for the absolute agony that would come after the sun set. The expanding of her bones, the splintering pain that racked through her, the excruciating ache of her skull as it molded itself into a monster. Rivulets of sweat poured down every inch of her as she panted in the innermost closet of the cabin. Athan had followed behind her on his motorcycle this afternoon, offering any relief he could every time she stopped her truck. They only had two hours left until dusk and every second seemed more agonizing than the last.
“You ready?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. Rhaena looked over her leggings and the sports bra she cared the least about and nodded breathlessly as she tied her hair in a knot atop her dripping head.
“There’s gotta be a way …” She huffed, fighting through her inability to get a deep enough breath. “After all these years, there has to be some way to either stop this or slow it down. I don’t wanna do this anymore, Athan.” She held as still as she could manage as he started chaining up her ankles.
“I had a thought, but I’ve never asked about it. It’s probably stupid. Most likely part of the old myth, but …” He jerked on the chain on her left foot, testing its security.
“What? Tell me,” she begged, turning up a plastic gallon jug of water.
“Are werewolves really allergic to silver?”
She paused, mid-gulp and looked at him with her mouth still on the bottle. She finished that swallow and breathed raggedly while he stared back at her. “Yes. That’s always been true. Silver can kill me. Not a myth.”
He secured the second chain, testing that one too. “But have you ever tried to find out if it can stop your shift? What if you had a necklace. Or this?” He held up his hand, nodding toward his silver ring he wore on his thumb.
“Wearing it won’t kill me. Getting stabbed with it would. I’m not sure what would happen, honestly.”
“So, if you tried suspending yourself with say … silver-plated chains or shackles?”
She glared at him. “Did you not just hear what I said?”
“Yes. But would you be willing to try it?” He shrugged, reaching for her hand as he pulled the other chain from the wall.
It was something to consider, she supposed. She didn’t feel confident enough trying something without being restrained. “Finish this first. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
She watched him fasten the chain around her wrist and he jerked at it. “Pull that as hard as you can.” She did, and it clanked loudly, not budging from its metal post they’d fashioned into the wall behind her. “What usually happens if you wear silver?”
She reflected back on her childhood with her uncle. His warnings about it. “I’ve been warned since I was young to stay the hell away from it. That it can weaken a wolf to near death. Gives an enemy a fighting chance to take us out.” Their eyes met, and Rhaena knew they had likely been thinking the same thing. “Finish it.” She panted. Athan made quick work with the other wrist and when he jerked his head toward where it met the wall, she tested that side. Secure.
“Should I put it on a chain? Or just whatever finger it would fit on? It needs to be secure enough not to fly off, or this probably won’t work.”
“Try it on my forefinger.” Rhaena said, pointing toward him. She braced herself, not knowing what to expect and he slid it off his thumb, holding her hand steady as he pushed it over her skin. Rhaena jolted back, the sudden intrusion of fire licking her skin shooting all the way up her arm. She screamed and Athan lunged forward, reaching to grab the ring. “Don’t!” She ground out, tears pouring from her eyes. “Wait! —Just wait!” She banged the back of her head against the wall as the pain traveled through her shoulder, then across to the other and down that arm … her torso … her legs.
“Rhaena! Let me take it off, this was fucking stupid! Gimme your hand!” Athan leaned over her, taking her face in his hands and nearly straddling her to keep her steady. She clutched her fingers into a fist and tucked it behind her, slowly feeling herself surrender to paralyzing muscles. The burning eased and her breathing slowed. “Take it off!” Athan demanded again, she could just make out the blurred image of his face as he hovered over her.
“It’s—working …” She panted in a whisper. “Get back, Kane.”
“We don’t know how safe this is, Rhaena … I shouldn’t have fucking said anything, take it off … please, take it off.”
“I can reach it. If I think something bad is gonna happen, I’ll take it off. Just leave me here.” She felt herself relax against the wall; her body felt heavy on the wooden floor.
“Yeah? Move your legs.” He seethed.
She stared up at him deliriously, trying and failing to move anything. He could be right. It was poisoning her. Leaving it might weaken her enough to stop the shift, but how long would it be okay? Her uncle didn’t warn her about it that often because it was an easy fix to their issues. If it had been that simple, he would have taught her how. “I can’t …” she admitted.
“I’m sorry … I’m so sorry.” Athan gritted his teeth and reached behind her, prying open her fingers and tearing the ring off. “Don’t ever listen to me again.” He hurled himself back and Rhaena’s body arced, every bone in it creaking … every muscle tensing and tingling as it fought its way back to life. Back to agony. She widened her mouth in a scream. It wouldn’t be long now. She could feel pressure in the tendons of her feet … her hands. The ache in her head was a familiar reminder of what she was about to become again … what she wished so badly she wasn’t.
The lone wolf.
Athan sat close by on the floor, his back resting against the side of the small bed and his legs outstretched, looking every bit the shamed friend that wanted so badly to help her, but knew he couldn’t. “Athan …” she started, breathing frantically. “I don’t have long … talk to me … please.” He raised his knees and braced his head on his hands, staring at her like he was her biggest failure. “Stop looking at me like that!” She panted. “Just get my mind off of it …. where’s Sarah?”
“She said she’d be with Wren tonight.”
“Be with her where?”
“I dunno, Rhaena.” Athan shrugged, his tone a bit too smart ass for her current state of mind. “It’s Halloween … maybe they’re going trick-or-treating?”
Rhaena groaned and clenched her teeth … they were starting to hurt too. She breathed through it. “Have you not talked to her? One of us needs to … keep up with her.”
“Just a text here and there since she started at the lab a couple days ago. I’ve got eyes on her. What about Jenkins?”
Rhaena jerked her face toward him, sweat dripping from her brow. “What about him?”
“Where did you tell him you were going for three days?”
“We’re not dating. I don’t … have to tell him shit.” She nodded toward the jug of water. “Can you help me?” He scooted closer and held it up for her so she could drink a bit.
“You don’t think he’s gonna wonder?”
She swallowed, water trickling from both corners of her mouth. “He’s never wondered before? Every month? If not … why bother now?” Sharp pains shot up her spine and the column of her neck and she couldn’t stifle her wail. “You should go, Kane.”
“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Yeah, well … ugh … I don’t want you to see me—” She bowed forward and groaned in pain. Athan’s cool hand felt like ice against her blazing skin.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said simply.
All she could manage was a grateful nod.
Wren had noticed that Sarah wasn’t in the best of moods since yesterday. She had asked her if it had anything to do with the job, or something she’d found but Sarah hadn’t wanted to really talk about it. Instead, she seemed a lot more eager to dress up in the outfit she’d begged Wren not to buy at the shop earlier this week, and even went so far as to take her makeup next level, adding fake blood and long white extension clips in her hair.
“I’ll be honest … if I batted for the other team, I’d be fuckin’ ya.” Wren cackled from the mirror, adding the finishing touches to her own makeup, and teasing her hair a little more.
“Well, at least somebody wants to,” Sarah drawled, lacing up a pair of knee-high black heels. Denver watched from the coffee table in Wren’s cluttered apartment, both his green eyes darting between them in utter confusion.
“Look, if you take somebody home tonight, you’re taking them to your house. You know the rules.”
I’m not taking anybody home. I’ve got a plan.” Sarah smirked without looking back up at her. Wren watched her from the mirror and set down her lip pencil.
“And that is?”
“If I get drunk enough, I guess you’ll find out.”
She never talked like this. They had gotten drunk plenty of times before, but Wren couldn’t shake off the bad feeling she was continuing to get about Sarah’s behavior as the days went on. Was this some kind of survivor’s guilt? A sudden YOLO trigger that had been set off because she’d almost died? She wasn’t sure how to navigate this new version of her best friend and talking to her about it never seemed to go anywhere.
“Are you okay?” Wren dared ask as Sarah finished lacing her other boot. Sarah hopped up from the couch and adjusted the black velvet corset to push up her tits. Her chest tattoos were on full display, along with every inch of her pale arms, and most of her legs as they shone through her fishnet tights. There was hardly any way to call that a skirt, either. It just barely covered the bottom of her ass. She looked better than Wren could have ever expected, especially with the makeup and hair.
“I’m fine! Why?” she asked excitedly, looking at her with a raised brow. “I take back everything I said about the sexy lion.”
Wren adjusted the form-fitting fuzzy bodysuit, snapping the elastic around her bare thigh and grinning as she gestured obscenely with the long tail. “I like this part the best.”
“You ready?” Sarah asked, grabbing her cigarettes, wallet, and phone.
“Very. Let’s roll,” Wren agreed, following her out the door and locking it up behind them. It didn’t take more than five minutes to drive to the packed little club that Dominic had reserved only for his own guests for the night. As Wren parked the car, lightning flashed around them, and thunder rolled. “Nothing creepier on Halloween than a storm.”
“Not too late to go back and watch movies … although, I’m no longer in the mood.” Sarah winked as she opened the car door.
“We could go bag-snatching. Scare the shit outta little kids?” Wren laughed, walking to the front of the car.
“Nah … I’m getting lit.”
She supposed there was no talking her out of it. Wren couldn’t get over the nagging feeling that something about bringing her here just didn’t feel right. Maybe it had more to do with the fact that the last time they’d gone out, she’d almost lost her. This would pass. She shrugged it off and they went inside, flashing lights and dance music greeting them as they entered. They dove right in, and for the first two hours, both of them were having the time of their lives. People were dressed in costumes all around them, pictures being taken left and right with strangers, and all the right ingredients for terrible decisions were everywhere. It was the kind of scene that Wren lived for. She used to beg Sarah to get this sloshed … but for once, it seemed like they had traded places.
Sarah was dancing with a girl that was dressed like Red Riding Hood, both well beyond drunk. One of the visiting artists had also taken a liking to her and had come up behind Sarah with a drink, offering it to her and to Wren’s shock, she took it without a second thought.
“Hey!” Wren smiled, hurrying to her side. “Why don’t we slow it down a little, yeah?” She made to take the drink from her hand before it made it to Sarah’s mouth, but she jerked it away.
“Why? You’re usually begging me to! Get your own!” Sarah slurred, knocking the entire drink back. Her new story book friend laughed and ground herself on Sarah’s thigh, looping an arm around her waist. The man that had given her the drink joined in behind her and Wren couldn’t hide the shock from her face when Sarah brought him closer and leaned herself back against him.
“Sarah, look … maybe it’s time to go home.”
“She seems pretty comfortable to me.” The nameless asshole purred, turning Sarah’s chin up and leaning in to kiss her. She didn’t even hesitate. Tongues were clashing over dark purple lipstick and Wren felt her stomach turning. Red Riding Hood wasn’t getting enough attention, she supposed, and decided to join in … Sarah obliged her too.
“Sarah, that’s enough, babe. Let’s go.” Wren urged, tugging at her arm. Sarah pulled away, something in her usually bright, hazel eyes darkening. She growled … growled at her. Like some animal about to pounce. Wren winced.
“You wanna go, then go … I’m staying right here.” Sarah snarled in a voice that didn’t sound a thing like her.
That was enough. Wren dug her phone out of the small bag she’d brought and dialed Athan. It rang several times and then his voicemail picked up. She hung up and tried again … twice. After the third time, she decided to leave a message. “Hey Kane, it's Wren. I need your help. Something’s up with Sarah. She’s—” Wren looked over her shoulder and Sarah was pawing all over the woman she continued to dance with. “Look, just call me. Please. I’m worried.” She hung up and sent him a text, hoping maybe he’d call back. After a few long minutes of waiting and watching her accept yet another drink spiked with God knows what, Wren reluctantly dialed someone else.
“Wren?”
“Hey … look, I’m sorry to bother you. You know you’d be the last person I’d ever call for help, but—”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Sarah …”
“What happened? Where are you?”
“We’re at a Halloween gig at Back Door Bar. I can’t convince her to leave. She’s gonna do something stupid and I need someone to help me.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
“I wouldn’t stay here if somebody paid me! I’m here to pick up someone that can’t drive herself home, now get the fuck outta the way!” Brent screeched at the bouncer outside the bar.
“She can meet you out here. Get back.” The muscled grunt shoved him with his forearm and inched himself further in front of the door.
“Do you know who I am?” Brent asked, a light mist of rain glistening on his suit.
“Yeah, I know who you are. And your name ain’t on the list. Get back.”
Brent pointed at him. “You’re gonna regret this shit.”
“Goodie.” The guy smirked, his bald head shining in the streetlight.
Brent slid his phone out of his pocket and dialed Wren.
“Hey!”
“I can’t get in here. You’re gonna have to bring her out.”
“Dude, that ain’t gonna happen.”
“What’s going on?”
“You don’t wanna know.”
He hung up on her and fisted his hair as he turned around. “Fuck!” he groaned.
Athan had been sweating as he watched Rhaena struggle helplessly against her restraints in her wolf form for the past few hours. He’d been frustrated enough, wanting to end this for her and knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing, to peel his jacket off and toss it onto the bed. He sat against an old wooden nightstand on the floor with his knees up and his hands in his hair as she howled and roared. She looked pitiful. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this dozens of times, but the longer they’d known each other, the more it ate at him. He needed a cigarette … and some air. He stood, grabbing his jacket off the bed and giving the massive beast a look of condolence before retreating into the den and out the front door to take a moment on the covered front porch.
The rain had stopped, and he could see puffs of his breath in the chill of the air as he pulled the jacket back on and dug out his pack. The glow of his cherry lit the palms of his hands as he flicked his lighter shut and inhaled deeply, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke. A couple of long drags in, his phone started ringing. It was the precinct.
“Kane.”
“Kane, it’s Jenkins. Is Northwood with you?”
“No, she’s off for a few days. Why, what’s up?”
“I’ve been trying both your phones. You’ve got a body.”
“What?”
“A … bo-dy …” Jenkins emphasized.
“Why are you calling us? Aren’t you homicide, too? We’re already on a case.”
“Kane, you don’t understand … this is yours. I need one of you to get here. Now. You’re gonna wanna see this.”
