Omega's Run (13 page)

I got my bearings as quickly as I could, utilizing the vehicle’s GPS unit, and no, not to look up specific directions, just to get a map of the surrounding areas. I may not be used to being the great evader, but it really was only a matter of tracking in reverse. If it was a trick I used to find ‘em, it was something I avoided doing. I mean, it should do the trick. Right?

I certainly hoped so as I took a dubious look at my passed the fuck out passenger. I really fucking hoped so.

Chapter 13

Remus

“Please, tell me that somebody died in the crash,” I muttered. “I can only assume a horrific crash or accident of some kind can be responsible for how entirely awful I feel.”

Silence greeted that statement and I continued to lie there, wherever
there
was, for a while. My ears and nose didn’t tell me much. Quiet. Dust. Wood. Ava. Not much else available in the air, and at best, I felt like a lump of lead. The motivation to get up or move around just wasn’t there.

I tried to get a handle on the series of events that had led me to wherever the hell I was. The last clear memory I had, was getting into the Land Rover stolen by Ava. I vaguely had a recollection of getting into another vehicle at some point. The sound of doors opening, the irritating chime of the car telling us the key was still in the ignition, then the smell of leather and vanilla air freshener. Driving sucked, I could remember that much. Every motion of the car sent my stomach roiling and I couldn’t have been more grateful that my stomach was too empty for me to throw up in the car.

“So, then what?” I muttered, the sound of my own voice barely recognizable to me. Rough and weak, it fit the shape I was in. Rough and weak seemed to sum up my entire world recently.

I thought more about what I could piece together from the few shaky memories I still retained. We changed vehicles at least once more, possibly twice, and eventually stopped.

“Come on, Remus,” Ava had said repeatedly. “I need you to work with me, I can’t lift your heavy ass up these stairs by myself.” Stairs. Stairs sucked too. I don’t think I liked stairs very much anymore. I had an impression, not even really a memory, of crawling my way up a steep set of stairs and then nothing but oblivion.

“Alright, so that covers the basics,” I said aloud again. “Time to see where we are.” I opened my eyes, finally. The ceiling above me was rough wooden planks, unfinished but sturdy. The walls were similar wood all around, as was the floor. It was a well-built looking structure, but it wasn’t fancy. This wasn’t like William’s house, where everything was neat and polished. This was a house built for functionality. That was something I could appreciate.

The bed was a massive thing of solid wood and was piled high with several layers of blankets, underneath which I was buried. Digging my way out from under them took significantly more effort than it should have, and by the time I finally managed to push them aside and sit up, I was short of breath; a fine layer of sweat standing out on my skin from the effort.

The sweatshirt I had been wearing was nowhere to be seen, and my jeans had been changed for a light pair of sweatpants. A part of me wondered how much of an eyeful she got when she changed my clothes, but I mostly didn’t care. Okay, that was a lie; I mostly wondered if she’d liked what she’d seen. I wasn’t about to ask her though. We didn’t have that kind of relationship, not at all. Still, if the roles had been reversed…

I reached out and snagged a t-shirt hanging from the back of a chair, squashing those thoughts as I pulled it over my head. It was chilly in here, I noted, before taking a look around the room.

Small was one word to use to describe the place. Not tiny, but it definitely wasn’t roomy either. I didn’t get the impression that it was a place that was well lived in. But it definitely wasn’t an apartment, and I distinctly remember Ava saying we were going to an apartment. An apartment didn’t have the rustic feel that this place had.

Where had she brought me?

The broom handle I’d been using as an improvised crutch was leaning against the wall, next to the bed, so I grabbed it and used it to help push myself to my feet. It took longer than I would have liked to get down the stairs, but I managed it, and only came close to pitching forward face-first twice.

The downstairs seemed even smaller than the upstairs because it was a living room, kitchen, and a small water closet of a bathroom all in a space the same size as the bedroom above.

Just as functional as the rest of the building. The door faced to the north and along the wall next to it, sat a low couch with a blanket folded carefully on one arm; a pillow resting on top of it. Ava was sleeping down here, obviously. I didn’t have an explanation as to why she went through the extra effort of getting me upstairs, when she could have just dumped me on the couch. I mean, it would have saved her a lot of effort.

I sat down and looked around me. The place still had a slight residue of dust on a few surfaces but she had been making an effort to clean. Down here, the scent of cleaning chemicals was stronger than it had been upstairs and I pushed open a window to let some of the cool, outside air in, before sitting back down on the couch. That little bit of effort had me sweating, and pain radiated from the back of my leg and up into my lower back.

I didn’t know what else I could really do at the moment, so I just waited, staring at the floor while I let my mind go back over what I had learned before passing out.

The Hunters knew how wolf-kind started. They knew how we became what we are, how it all started. I needed to get more information out of Ava, I needed to learn more that I could bring to William and the rest of my former pack. It probably wouldn’t get me back into the fold, I didn’t think there was any way for that to happen, but it was still information the pack should have. We should know more about ourselves than we did.

The sound of an engine approaching caught my attention and I raised my head toward the door. There was a quiet squeal of brakes then the engine stopped and a door opened. Footsteps outside echoed in my ears and the door slammed shut. The rustling of plastic bags then more footsteps heading toward the door.

When it opened, Ava didn’t bat an eye to find me sitting on the couch instead of upstairs. She simply shut the door behind her, still dressed in her black boots, shirt, pants, and her Joe Rocket jacket. Grocery bags from a nameless store hung over one arm and she carried them over to the corner that served as the kitchen and set them down.

“Good to see you up and moving,” she said without turning to look at me.

“Doesn’t feel particularly good,” I said.

“Not surprising. You’ve been out for a couple of days. Was starting to worry that you’d never wake up.”

“Concerned for my safety?” I asked, surprised. “Not something I expected from you, to be honest.”

“Not worried about you. I haven’t gotten enough information out of you, and I really don’t like playing nursemaid to a fucking invalid.”

That got on my nerves a bit. “Oh, right,” I growled. “Big bad hunter can’t be a decent person and show a little compassion for another living being. That would just be beneath your hard assed persona wouldn’t it?”

“Fuck you, asshole,” she snapped and rounded on me.

I snorted out a laugh. “Thanks, but I think I’ll leave taking it up the ass to you, Babycakes.”

She growled, her eyes flashing angrily, and lunged for me. I’m still not entirely sure how it happened. One second she was in the air, the next I had grabbed for her wrists and twisted in my seat on the sofa. My leg screamed in pain but I ignored it and she let out a startled cry as I pulled her over. The next moment she was lying on her back on the couch and I was spread out on top of her, our faces so close that our breath mingled together.

She smelled of gun oil and jasmine, a far more feminine scent than I expected from her. The scents clung to her like a second skin and despite being pissed at her I was suddenly very aware of how close we were, the heat coming off of her body and the slow flush growing up her neck and cheeks.

“If I remember correctly, weren’t you the one with a probe up
your
ass, getting your nads electrocuted when
I
saved
you
?” she snapped. I couldn’t tell if she was turned on too, or if she was just pissed, but it was hot as hell. I pushed away with a pained grunt.

I sat up and dropped my head into my trembling hands. My arms and shoulders shook violently, and I couldn’t make them stop no matter what I tried. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why was I shaking like a damned leaf over such a simple altercation?

When I felt a hand on my shoulder I jumped, I think. I couldn’t be sure because I was still trembling so badly.

“Let’s get you back up to bed,” she muttered quietly and I wanted to pull away but I didn’t have the strength.

I hauled myself to my feet, ignoring the hand she held out to help me, and carefully made my way over to the steep staircase leading up to the bedroom. I was sweating bullets by the time I got to the top, but I gritted my teeth and pushed the rest of the way over to the bed and collapsed onto it with a creaking of wooden timbers and a low groan of discomfort. I was a bit heavy for the bed, but it was a solid piece of furniture, so it held up admirably.

“Jeez,” Ava muttered from the stairs behind me and I turned my head to look at her. “How much do you weigh, anyway?”

I shrugged awkwardly from my position laying on my back. “Last I checked I was close to four hundred pounds.” Her mouth dropped open and I grinned at her. That was usually the reaction that I got when people heard that. She recovered quickly though and nodded.

“Right, I remember the doctors saying something about that before. It’s how you people are so damned strong without being just ridiculously huge.”

I arched an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. “Your abilities really aren’t all that supernatural if you think about it. To be able to lift a car the way you can, your muscles would have to be extremely dense. Dense muscle equals large power from a smaller sized muscular structure. You’d be four or five times your current size to try to equal the kind of strength you have with typical human muscle mass.”

“So the Catholic Church is the reason that we’ve been hunted for our entire existence?” I asked. “Why am I not surprised to hear that?” When in doubt, change the subject.

“That’s not what I said before.” She leaned against the wall next to the stairs and glared at me. “The Catholic Church may have converted the Druids to Christianity centuries ago, but since then the Crusaders have expanded far beyond the Church. After the Templars were nearly wiped out, we took it upon ourselves to go underground. These days the church doesn’t even believe that wolf-kind exist.”

I frowned and pushed myself further up on the bed with another quiet grunt so that my legs were no longer hanging off the edge. I was able to sit up against the headboard with a little extra effort.

“Alright,” I muttered. “We need to sit and have a coherent conversation about this. You want information from me and I want information from you. Why don’t we do that?”

She cocked her head to the side, green eyes peering intently at me for a moment.

“How so?” she asked, finally.

“You ask a question and I ask a question, rinse and repeat.”

She thought about it for a moment longer before she straightened up and nodded sharply. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s get you settled first. Do you need to use the rest room?” I almost jumped at the straightforward question and I thought about it for a moment before nodding, fighting back a blush that wanted to work its way onto my cheeks.

Without a word she stepped over and helped me to my feet. I didn’t know why I was embarrassed. Using the bathroom was a natural part of the human or wolf-kind condition. Everybody poops, or in this case, takes a piss. There was no sense being uncomfortable about it, but for some reason her being in such close proximity had me flustered and that bothered me more than my mild embarrassment over my natural bodily functions did. See how circular my logic can be? It’s infuriating at times.

I took care of business in a tiny water closet of a bathroom that I hadn’t even realized was attached to the bedroom while she stood outside. I kicked my sweat pants aside after I finished and flushed and turned around, attempting to get a look at the bullet wound in my thigh in the small mirror hanging above the sink. A thick bandage, partially soaked through with old blood sat high on my upper thigh, just below my ass.

I needed to get a look at the wound and I needed to clean up too. I hadn’t showered since before Ava’s team grabbed me, and I was more than a little ripe. “I’m gonna shower really fast,” I called through the door while stripping my shirt off over my head. With the shirt still partially covering my head I heard the door open behind me and Ava’s voice.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear...” she trailed off and I finished pulling the shirt off and turned to face her. The look on her face was priceless. Eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Her eyes hadn’t quite reached the level of my face, lingering more on the level of my chest and I could see the struggle in her face not to look lower. Her eyes flickered down toward my stomach and I grinned and cleared my throat.

She jumped, her head snapping up so her eyes met mine and I quietly repeated myself. “I think I’m going to take a quick shower. It’s been a while since I had the ability, and I’d really like to get cleaned up.”

“Ummm... yeah. Ok, you do that,” she mumbled and started to look down but her eyes snapped back up again. “I’ll go get something together for dinner and we’ll eat. Talk after you’re done?” She turned without waiting for a reply and beat a pretty hasty retreat after that. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly to myself. I didn’t laugh nearly as loud as I wanted to, mostly because I was pretty sure that would have been the end of my life at that point, but I did allow myself a bit of amusement for a moment before moving on to the matter at hand.

Removing the bandage sucked, but I’ve dealt with worse, so I did so quickly and inspected the wound. A round puckered scab sat nearly in the center of my leg, angry and red around the area with what looked like a fading infection. I sort of remembered Ava forcing a handful of pills down my throat and saying something about them being antibiotics, but it was a vague memory at best and could have just been a fever dream. I refocused on the wound; the skin around it was angry as fuck and the veins were darkened beneath the skin. All together it didn’t look good, not even a little bit, which was scary because if I were up, that meant it probably looked better than it had been and made me wonder just what Ava’d had to do to keep me going.