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“So glad I found you.” Damon’s eyes were full of mockery.
“Get. Out.” I pointed to the jeep door, and shifted trying to ease the sudden ache in my shoulder blade.
“No can do.” He pointed his thumb to the exit. “Get this thing started and head onto the road. I’ll tell you where to go.”
I’d like to tell you where to go. “I’ll leave, after you get out.” Bile rose in the back of my throat. “I’m not taking you near Grace.”
“Rouge, start the friggin’ Jeep, or I'll start it for you. And you do not want that.” He snarled. His eyes turned a terrible yellow color, the same shade that haunted my dreams.
Frozen, I tried to get my brain to process any coherent thought. Grace and Sarah wouldn’t start to worry about my absence for another ten minutes. Michael and Caleb were gone, so I was pretty much on my own. Damon didn’t know...He couldn’t right? “M-Michael an-and Grace are meeting me here, any minute now.”
His barking laugh reverberated off of my own chest. “Nice try,” he spat, as if reading my thoughts. “Michael’s halfway across the country and well, let’s just say Grace and her dear so-called momma aren’t going anywhere.”
My shoulders and lungs dropped as if they’d collapsed. The Grollics have Grace and Sarah? They’d been waiting and watching till they were most vulnerable. “You’d better not hurt them,” I hissed.
“We won’t... for now. If you do as I say, it might be for a bit longer.” He grinned. A stupid, irritating grin that made me want to tear his face off.
What choice did I have? “Fine. I'll drive. Just leave Grace and Sarah alone.” The closest thing I had to a family wouldn’t die if I could help it. Damon didn’t need me. He just wanted to get to Michael and Grace. I knew he didn’t stand a chance against Michael.
Damon raised his eyebrows for a quick second. “Good.”
My hands shook as I turned the ignition and grasped the wheel. I leaned to turn up the heat, hoping it might give me some courage. Whatever I did might mean life or death for Grace and Sarah. If Grace contacted Michael through their ESP-thing, he and Caleb might be heading back. Did the Grollics know of their ability?
“Turn right out of the parking lot and head towards the highway. We need to get off at the exit before the lake.” He sniffed and turned his head to the groceries in the backseat. Grabbing a bag of chips, he opened them and started eating. The idiot had the audacity to offer me some of my chips.
“No, thanks.” I focused on the road as the snow began falling in thicker, heavier flakes.
“Drive like you're going to the head to the Knightly’s cabin. We'll park the Jeep there and head out again. We’ll take your groceries along as it would be a shame to let all this good stuff go to waste.” He turned and dug through the bags. “What’s with all the healthy crap? You need more starchy foods. They fill you nicely.” Damon patted his stomach, stuffing another handful of chips in his mouth.
I squeezed the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles white against the black leather. Like I cared about food groups at the moment. “I have no freakin’ clue how to get there.” I lifted my foot off the gas and let the Jeep slow its pace.
He grabbed my arm and squeezed. It hurt like crazy and if he tightened his grip a fraction my bones would break. “Listen closely as I’m only going to say this once. It’s in your best interest you try and humor me. Keep me happy and content. I’m the only one who can save you.” He swore under his breath and punched the dashboard. “Just drive and keep your mouth shut!”
I dropped my foot back on the gas pedal and pressed my lips tight. I rubbed my sore arm. If I ticked Damon off in the Jeep he might shift into a Grollic. What if he changed and bit me? Could that make me a Grollic? If that could happen, everything with Michael would be doomed, and I did not want to spend an eternity living without him. The Siorghra around my neck tingled against my skin giving me a small warning. Glancing around, I realized I didn’t know where we were. I’d only been to the cabin once with Michael, and it had been dark. Blinking back the water filling my eyes, I whispered, “I don’t know where I’m going.”
“Take the third exit, and head north. I'll tell you where to turn when we get there.” Damon went back to eating the bag of chips and began ignoring me.
Forty minutes later, with no decent plan popping into my head, I turned into the snow covered road which let to Caleb’s cabin. Thank goodness for the Jeep’s four wheel drive. Nothing had been cleared in days. No trace of the fight between Seth and Tatiana against the Grollics existed, except for the odd fallen tree and a large clawed gouge mark on a maple close to the cabin. My breath caught as I rolled to a stop and let the engine idle.
“Stay in the Jeep.” Damon swung his door open. “Don’t bother even thinking about taking off. We’d catch you on foot, or on wheels or with a bullet.” He jumped out and jogged toward the tree line on the right. He whistled into the forest and leaned against a tree, his jacket open and oblivious to the cold.
A female, a couple years older than me, emerged from the trees. She walked to Damon and stood inches away from him, then began pulling the black hooded sweater off and he pulled at her belt.
“Great,” I muttered, dropping my gaze to the crumpled bag and chip crumbs all over my passenger seat. “Just what I want to watch. Two Grollics gettin’ it on. Disgusting.” I jumped at the sharp rap against the side window.
The passenger door opened and the girl dropped into the spot Damon had vacated. She began pulling off her boots. “Give me your clothes,” She commanded in a husky voice.
I stared straight ahead, not moving.
“Get your crap off or I'll do it for you, bitch.” Her husky voice turned into a growl as she grabbed my shoulder and squeezed hard.
“Ow! That hurts.” Her sharp nails dug deep into my skin, even through my coat. The pressure didn’t weaken. She could crush my bones if she wanted. I pressed my lips tight to cut off the groan trying to escape. She lessoned her grip when I reached for the hem of my coat. I lifted my elbow and pushed her arm away and then pulled the zipper down on my coat and shrugged it off. At least I didn’t have to watch them messing around.
“Take everything off. Then put on what I'm wearing.”
Silent, I did as she commanded. My thoughts kept drifting to Grace and Sarah, hoping they were safe. Whatever the Grollics plan was, they would take me to them, right?
I tossed my wet sneakers on her lap and had the satisfaction of watching her nose wrinkle. She kicked her boots on the floor by my feet. I snorted. Finally got a pair of boots for the snow.
I struggled to get dressed in the tight space under the wheel, but Damon’s ugly face pressed against my window helped speed the process. The girl’s clothes smelled damp and of wet fur.
“Perfect! And Damon said I was too big.” She leaned forward, staring directly at him. With a grunt, she got out and walked to the front porch. The girl paused on the porch and played with her earring before dropping to sit on the steps, and rub her arm against the railing. After leaving her – my – sneakers at the door, she slipped her hand inside the sleeve of my sweater and wrapped it around the door handle before heading inside.
My breath sucked in sharply. She’s putting my scent around the cabin. I wouldn’t be staying. I tried to think of something I could do inside of the Jeep. A clue which might help Michael. Something to let him know it was a trap, and I wasn’t inside the cabin.
Damon had stepped in front of the Jeep, hollering at the girl to hurry, then turned and glared at me. I touched Michael’s pendant and ran it along the chain.
An idea skittered across my mind. I reached for the clasp at the back and pulled with both my hands. It unclipped easily. A little wave of disappointment flushed through. Michael had said no one could take it off if he put it on. Shame he’d never get the chance.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I dropped the Siorghra on the floor, pushing it slightly under the seat.
Damon came around to the driver’s side and wrenched open my door. He reached in to turn the ignition off and tossed the keys in the snow. Grabbing me by the collar, he dragged me out and then shoved me in the direction the girl had come from the forest.
“Walk,” he barked, then swung around and grabbed the bags of groceries from the back seat of the Jeep.
The girl never came out of the cabin. I ran my fingers through my hair and scrunched my nose at the loose strands entangled in my fingers. I shook them out at the edge of the forest where we headed into the trees. Pushing me in front, Damon pointed the direction to walk.
I moved in front but glanced back at the cabin. The amount of snow in the forest was higher than I’d anticipated. “Where’s Grace? Is she in there?”
“Shut up.” Damon scowled.
“No. Where’s Grace and Sarah?”
“Not right freakin’ here.”
I stopped, knee deep in a snow drift, and crossed my arms.
Wrong move.
He marched right up to me and, before I had a chance to flinch, curled his fingers around my throat. “Walk. Or someone’s going to end up dead.” He squeezed tighter, emphasizing his point.
Slapping and trying to pull his hand away, I struggled to get air into my throat. Little flecks of white danced in my vision and just as everything started to blur, he let go. I fell back into the soft, wet snow. Sucking in sweet, cold air against the burning in my throat, I rolled to my side.
Damon kicked my hip. “Get up.”
Wiping the tears that had escaped my eyes, I managed to get onto all fours and slowly straighten to standing. Damon shot me a single nod and pointed. I dropped my head and started to walk, trying my best not to swallow.
We hiked for what seemed liked forever but when I checked my watch, only about forty minutes had passed. The soreness in my throat dulled, but there were going to be bruises. Though tired, I resisted the urge to ask Damon where we were going. I’d given him the silent treatment since the cabin. Jerk. Big stinkin’ dickhead.
The grey snow clouds made the sky get darker earlier than usual. Does he plan on walking all night, or worse, camp in the snow? The loser may be a Grollic but I’d freeze to death. The snow hadn’t stopped falling and had covered all our tracks. I grabbed my hair, wishing I’d left a ponytail holder around my wrist. I tugged a few strands out, trying to use them as a pony. Useless. They just drifted away or came loose.
Damon grabbed my arm and glared at me. My heart stuttered. I hadn’t been paying attention to where I’d been going. A gouged out creek that ran into the lake had a small drop from years of water pushing through. One more step and I’d have fallen the three feet and crashed onto the ice.
His arm dragged me left. “Keep walking and frickin’ pay attention to where you’re going.”
I wrenched my arm free and stomped through the heavy snow. Fifteen minutes later, I could just barely make out a dark outline through the early night shadows. As we came closer I realized it was another cabin – sort of similar to Caleb’s but a lot older.
Damon, still carrying the grocery bags in one hand, grabbed my wrist and pulled me up the steps. I managed to grab the railing to stop from stumbling. He barged through the open door and dragged me, and the groceries, inside.
Flicking lights on, he said, “Put these in the kitchen and wait there.” He stepped back outside.
I waited by the door, trying to stare into the darkness if I could make a run for it. A quiet howl erupted followed by two shorts barks. No way was I going to try running, or stand in front of the door. I grabbed the bags and strode down the little hall, through the living room to the kitchen.
Everything in the place was dated. Old cabinets, almond coloured stove and fridge that ran so loud, it made some of the cracked linoleum shake. I dropped the groceries on the counter and checked my watch. Almost seven.
The front door slammed. Damon walked in and took off his coat. He started emptying the bags. “Can you cook half decent?”
“Wuh – Wuh’ever,” I replied, my voice hoarse. It hurt to talk.
“Cook everything. I’m starving.” He sat back on a bar chair and crossed his arms over his massive chest.
“Excuse me?”
“Feed me, then we talk.”
“Feed yourself,” I mumbled. No way would I be his chef.
“Rouge...Don’t. Piss. Me off,” Damon hissed through gritted teeth. He jumped off the chair and sprang towards me.
I stepped back, but still tried my best to scowl at him. You don’t scare me by trying to act tough. The hate for him, and those monsters swelled inside of me, making my shoulders ache. Especially the weird spot near my scapula.
Except it was different this time. Like the inside of my skin burned and the flame found its way into my veins and began to spread everywhere.
Damon growled in my direction, his eyes narrowed and turned a dark red, almost black color. His face twisted and his teeth grew, his mouth and nose elongated at the same time his chest cracked and expanded beyond what any normal human could live through. His back took on a kyphosis look and then arched jerkily. The black eyes burned to an amber colour. Kinda like my eye color. The thought slipped away as thick, matted hair covered his body and his skin thickened to gross dark leather across his chest. Within seconds, he’d shifted.
Time stopped. At least I swear it did. My blood forgot to flow, thunder erupted in my ears and my insides shook with horror. This mammoth creature was no Grollic from the journal. The thing stood on its rear hunches, its front legs appendages used as arms or legs. No horror movie would ever scare me again.
It looked like some kind of demonized animal. A low growl rumbled inside its chest. I froze, too terrified to even scream. The big bad wolf from Red Riding Hood had nothing on Damon.
It stared at me, then shifted its head to purposely look at the groceries. I understood and hesitantly took a tentative step toward the counter. Either I cook or become dinner. With shaking hands, I began separating vegetables and setting the meat by the stove. I didn’t stand a chance and I doubted Michael would against a pack of these horrific creatures.
The beast spoke, its voice so evil it chilled me to the core. “Don’t tick me off again. Make the food. All of it.” Then it left the room.
Frozen, nothing inside me could move. Except my heart. It probably beat more in those moments than it had in its entire life.
Do something! My brain screamed. “What do I do?” I whispered back, unsure if I meant right now or in the bigger picture.
I turned the stove on and dumped the hamburger into a frying pan. I tried to cut the onion but my hand wouldn’t stop shaking and I came close to chopping a fingertip off instead. Leaning against the counter I focused on slowing my racing heart, taking slow, deep breaths. Hands covering my face, I couldn’t erase the horrific images glaring behind my eyelids, as if burned there forever.
