Skin Deep (29 page)

"Don't even think about it, little Panther," he echoed my thoughts. Mind-reader too. "They have your scent. These boys are the best trackers, you know."

"What the hell do you want?" Anger rippled through me again, white hot. This was my home, and they'd invaded a space I'd kept clear of any violence despite this last week’s events. I needed some answers; it wasn't clear if they were here to off me or to abduct me.

I guessed the latter. If murder was their aim I'd be doggy din-din by now.

"Don't worry that head of yours with too many questions. You'll lose it soon enough." The skinny guy snickered. Usually words like those were fighting words. But I was smart enough to acknowledge when I was outnumbered.

And out-strengthened too. These suckers were huge and rabid by the looks of it, even the ones on two feet.

"Fight me and I will be glad to rip you to pieces and feed you to these two." Lumberjack growled, inclining his head at the two animals pawing the floor beside him.

In spite of the warning I readied myself to run, or at least try. His senses were keen, picking up on the slight tension in my muscles, and he was true to his word as he grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off the ground. His face transformed, canines lengthened, and claws grew, pressing sharp edges into the soft skin, so close to my jugular. I understood the danger he implied.

I was so close to him now. Even as I struggled for my next breath, his fingers cutting of my air supply, I could smell his scent, his blood as it thrummed through his body. I could see the vein in his neck, thick and full, so near. All it would take was one swipe to rip it open. But now he had the upper hand, literally.

I kicked at him, my booted feet meeting and bouncing off his thick thighs. When he let go, I fell, heavy and numb, to the floor. I got to my feet, disliking the vulnerability of being sprawled on the ground at the feet of these monsters.

They were strong, and I accepted I had no chance of fighting them all off. The female, yes. She watched from beneath blood red hair that matched her jacket and from the scent of the leather I was afraid to think too hard about the color. Its deep red was reminiscent of fresh blood. She watched, assessed me from behind red bangs, her eyes streaked with fine blood vessels.

These were a different breed of Walker. Mean. Not just their blood rimmed eyes, but their scents emitted the furious need for blood. I could smell the rage on them all, so sweet and enticing.

Life-threatening: they were Brand's types and I recognized the scent of hunger in the room. I recognized too, the mysterious Walker-killer now meant business. His first attempt to take me had failed.

But I wasn't taking his game lying down. Vengeance had a sinister strength of its own. This time justice would be served for a crime personal to me. This time it wasn't mere justice, it was a family revenge. "Who sent you?" I was determined to get an answer.

"Shut up." The redhead stepped forward and punched me in the stomach so hard I bent over, hacking on each breath.

So when I felt the prick of the needle at the side of my neck, it was already too late. I never knew which one of them did it. Not that I was in a position to prevent the drug from being injected into me.

Before I passed out I ran my eyes over the disheveled state of my loft, hoping the mussed rug, broken picture frames and blood on the floor would alert Iain or Logan or someone that something was amiss.

The drug worked fast and I went from awake and angry to woozy and happy.... Finally - dark oblivion.

***

Logan decided to check up on Kailin, and to see if she knew anything new. As he approached her apartment door his body tensed; it was slightly ajar. Not a good sign. Apartment was a mess, claw marks scraped the painted walls, and gouged the wood floor in random spots around the living space. Toppled furniture and a broken lamp confirmed the abduction.

What the hell happened here?

He took another step into the room and kicked something, sending it spinning across the floor. Kailin's phone. He bent to grab it, tucking it into his pocket. He'd check the outgoing calls as soon as he had a minute.

Logan turned, racing back outside, intending to get back to base to try to find out where Kailin was.

But then he stopped in his tracks. On the corner across the street sat a black panel van. No windows. The back doors were flung open and two men threw Kai into the back. Logan wanted to run after them, stop them, but they were already closing the door. He was so focused on the van that he almost missed Anjelo trotting toward him up the sidewalk.

Logan flagged Anjelo down, the boy
's shocked face showing he'd seen Kailin being thrown into the van. At least he listened and stayed down. One of the guys and a woman went around the van. Raised voices filtered to him. Fine time for a disagreement, but gave him the opportunity to take the number plate down and memorize the voices and the people who were taking her.

If they saw him or Anjelo they’d both be dead. Or at least shot at like they did to Kailin when she found the body. So he stayed on the corner. Kailin's phone buzzed in his pocket. He withdrew it and checked the message. Iain. Her brother wanted her to call him when she had a minute. Logan's heart knocked against his ribs. Guess it meant he'd have to call Iain back himself.

But the call would have to wait. The doors slammed shut and the engine revved angrily into life. He'd barely had time to climb onto his motorcycle before the van squealed off down the street. Logan stayed close on their tail. He glanced over at Anjelo and did a double take. The boy was running alongside him. For a moment Logan had forgotten he was a Walker. A black panther in a human body.

Of course the boy could run.

***

I stayed very still hoping to buy time. People, maybe three, moved around the room, two scents were very familiar. One, a man by his size and breathing, stood before me.

The blindfold was scratchy, and stank of oil and sweat. Although I expected it to be removed for the confrontation with my abductor, it stayed put.

I feigned unconsciousness, the longer I got away with it, the better the chances were they'd slip up and throw me a bit of vital information.

I was seated upright on a well-padded chair, my hands strapped to the arms, with my spine flush to a soft, high back, held there by a strap across my chest. I got the sense that once my eyes opened I would confirm it as a dentist's chair.

"Ah, at last. No need to pretend my dear. I know you are conscious. I can hear your heart beat just as well as you can hear mine. It's such a pleasure to finally have the illustrious Kailin Odel in our midst. Aren't we lucky." His voice, so familiar, brought tears to my eyes. And not even the nasty edge it held could prevent them.

Of course, I was unable to reply as the twin to my blindfold was wrapped tightly around my mouth, keeping in place a ball of crumpled fabric, wedged so deep in my mouth that every so often I gagged, and whose origins I preferred never to be educated on.

I was trying to keep the hysteria at bay, ignore the real horror I was facing. The voice was one I'd heard so often through my childhood, one which I'd looked forward to hearing because I'd heard it so seldom.

Uncle Niko was my captor. The man who'd sent his goons out to shoot and kill me was my own flesh and blood. The man who'd killed Clancy—who'd done nothing to offend him, other than be my friend.

I hoped the tears which filled my eyes wouldn't betray my grief by leaking out and marking my cheeks.

"So you finally decided to accept my invitation, kid?" His breath was fetid, wafting over my face.

I felt his finger beneath my chin, lifting my face for his inspection, the slight protrusion of his claw digging into the soft flesh, and I hated every second of it. Hated his betrayal, hated, too, the fact that he was my kin.

"I had no idea I was dealing with family. What say we have a little family reunion?"

I hated him with every pore in my body, hated him worse when the image of Clancy flitted through my mind's eye - her lifeless, blood-drenched body lying on the sidewalk like unwanted trash, the violated shell of the wonderful creature she once had been.

Violent anger took control of me and I struggled against my bonds, beginning a transformation which I finally wanted, despite the fact it would be dangerous and stupid. Some part of my brain, the part which contained most of my logic and common sense, over-rode the wave of rage gripping me. Forced me to control the change and stop before I hurt myself.

Niko had other ideas. I felt the prick of a needle in my arm and soon a heavy numbness washed through my body pulling me deep into unconsciousness.

***

I lay on my back, my hands still bound, the disgusting gag gone, thank Ailuros. A small bottle held a familiar looking green liquid, some drug dripped slowly, snaking along the IV tubing, disappearing beneath the tape on my arm and sluicing into my body. The icy bite of the liquid knifed its way into my veins, only to dissipate warm and numbing into my body.

Oil and metal coated the back of my throat, confirming the drug was winning its one sided battle to control my body. More than anything I hated my helplessness. Hated not being able to bounce off the mattress and go out in search of my captors.

I surveyed my prison; a pair of grilled windows sat high on the wall to my left. Gr
ay light filtered through. To my left, a warped wooden door shut me in. Doorways to freedom, neither of which I could reach. The walls behind and in front of me were bare. Wallpaper once covered the walls in an elegant rose pattern, was now cracked and peeling, torn off here and there in strips to reveal bare boards beneath.

The floor was wood, naked and icy, the cold of it penetrated through the thin cot mattress beneath me, and made its way straight into my bones.

This drug was a puzzle. What devil's concoction succeeded where no other drug, Human or otherwise, ever had?

Soon I had no choice but to give in to the endless pull as it lulled me back into oblivion. I would get my chance. For now I had no choice but to sleep.

I awoke much later. The bare windows were dark. How long since I'd been taken? Was Logan or Iain looking for me yet? I struggled to recall if I’d made any plans to see either of them, and came up blank. My brain was fuzzy from the cocktail which had been fed into my veins all this while.

It struck me as odd though that the drug was no longer as potent as I'd felt in my last foray into consciousness. My body was no longer numbed, my legs and hands tingled as nerves fired greetings to my brain. The dispenser was still half filled with the drug, still attached to the IV tube, still sliding along the tube and making its merry way into my body, wreaking what forms of havoc I knew not.

So the drug was losing its potency, or my body was building up immunity. Either way, I was grateful to be lucid at last. I lifted myself onto a shivering elbow, waiting until the world ceased undulating around me. Although tempted to tug everything out of my veins, I didn't want to leave a trail of blood behind me wherever I went. My fingers shook as I unscrewed the IV from the catheter in my arm and sat up. I brought my knees up, rested my head on them as the world spun.

I prayed I would stay conscious. The drug no longer numbed my body, but some residual effect of it still maintained control of me. I felt the intermittent pull as a dizzy euphoria possessed me, enticing my eyelids to shut and my body to seek the soft comfort of the mattress.

But I fought the release of the drug, taking one step at a time toward the door – toward freedom. I grasped the doorknob and twisted, expecting resistance and finding none. I wondered at the complacency of my captors. Did they lay their trust in the effects of the drug? It had worked, yes. But it had also worn off. I still wafted in and out of euphoria and some tiny part of me craved the blissful peace I'd experienced. I shoved the longing out of my head and placed my ear against the door.

It may have been unlocked but the last thing I needed was to walk out of my room slap bang into one of my captors to promptly end up flat on my back on the mattress again. Easy and cautious does it.

I let my Panther take partial control. My ears lengthened, the cartilage softened and flattened and feline ears replaced Human. Sounds became finer, cleaner. Almost painful in their clarity. Someone breathed, low and regular, in the next room. Another captive? From the rhythm of the sound the breather was asleep. Whether drugged or not, I was unable to tell. Further along the passage, glass clinked and feet moved on the bare floor in a scraping shuffle.

Drafts of air wailed through unseen cracks somewhere within the building. A pity though, that all the incoming air brought was air. No sounds of the outside world to give me an idea of my prison's location.

Other sounds filtered through. Muffled voices from the floor below. A toilet flushed. Pipes shrieked and groaned their displeasure. And no footsteps in the corridor outside my room to endanger my escape.

I cracked the door open and slipped through the slim space. I dared not open it wider for fear the rusted hinges may announce my departure to all and sundry. Only when I stood in the passage, with my back to the wall, did I realize my feet were bare.

I didn't waste time puzzling over why.

I crept along, keeping my feet on the boards along the wall. Less chance of creaking beneath my weight. The voices below me rose and fell. The pipes had ceased their complaining. At the end of the
hall I reached a stairwell. I'd heard no sounds from the upper level of the house, and the voices were downstairs, so down I went. What a joke. Here I was with the door to freedom right in front of me and I choose to venture further into the lion's den.