Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga 5) (28 page)

“How bad were his paws this time?” Theo asked.  He crouched to look for himself.

Evan just shook his head.  “I cleaned out the cuts, but it wasn’t his paws I’m worried about this time.  He looks to have hurt his ankle.  See there?  The right front?”

“Yeah, he definitely did something to it.”  Theo nodded as he peered into the cage.

“I was worried it was a snake bite or a scorpion’s sting, but there were no puncture wounds and no stinger at the swollen site.   I think he just stumbled or tripped into a crevice or something.  I’m treating it like a sprain, unless you have another idea.”

Maze stirred and opened his intelligent yellow eyes just enough to see the metal wires of the crate he’d been locked in.  He groaned once before letting his eyes drop closed again.

Evan was on his knees next to their beloved coydog. “I am so sorry, big guy.  I just don’t know what else to do with you.”

Danny had been sitting on the floor next to Margo’s wheelchair playing with one of his cars.  The room was quiet, everyone feeling the weight of their desperate situation heavy enough to make breathing difficult.  Margo sighed deeply. 

The four-year-old still didn’t speak very often, but when he did it was in complete, complex sentences.  He walked to Maze and reached for the lock.  “No Danny.  Maze has to stay in his crate because he keeps running away.”

Danny looked up at Evan still sitting on the floor next to the
coydog.  “Poor Maze misses Meg so much,” he whispered, reaching between the wires of the crate to touch the coydog’s fur.  

“Yes, love,” Margo wheeled closer to the little boy.  “Maze keeps running away to look for Meg.  He misses her—we all do.”

Danny’s eyes fell and he nodded solemnly.  He moved so he could see Maze’s sleeping face and carefully lay as close to the crate as he could.  Again, he reached his little sticky fingers into the holes of the metal crate just so he could touch the coydog’s silver fur, even if only a little.

“Could I talk with everyone in the kitchen for a few minutes?” Theo asked.  He nodded subtly toward the little boy.

“Yeah, I could use a tall glass of juice anyway,” Cole offered, helping make their exit less obvious to the little boy who looked to be content lying beside the caged canine while playing with his toy car.

The whole family moved into the kitchen and let the door swing closed behind them. 

Just then, Margo’s phone rang.

The noise startled her enough so her efforts to get the phone from her breast pocket sent the phone tumbling end over end toward the ground, still ringing.  Evan’s hand shot out and caught it easily.  He answered it in the same motion.

“Alik?” Evan felt a hint of the old excitement at the prospect of hearing from his older brother before reality smashed down hard on his shoulders and he remembered his brother was barely speaking to him.

“Evan,” he said coolly.  “Put me on speakerphone; we have news.”

Gritting his teeth to keep himself from saying anything he’d regret, Evan punched the proper buttons and laid the phone down on the counter.  He stepped back and crossed his arms. 

Margo spoke first, “Okay Alik, we’re all here.”

The room chimed with a chorus of “Hi, Alik.” 

Evan kept his teeth gritted, not saying anything further.

“Hey, everyone.  Listen, we’re on a plane headed back your way, but that last lead we got from Mr. Burns panned out.”

“Have you found her?”

“We tracked her using an echo two nights old to Naples Airport here in Italy.  A soldier has her and is taking her back to Arkdone, Mom.”

“Arkdone!” Margo spat. 

“Looks like the Senator is behind her most recent abduction.  The soldier who stole her away from Williams’ Italian chateau must be a metamonarch by the looks of it.”

“Why would she trust this
metamonarch?”

“I don’t know Mom, but she’s still an empath.”

“Yeah, but if he’s a monarch, he could trick her like Slider did,” Sloan pointed out.

“She doesn’t remember being tricked by Slider
,” Cole spoke up.

“She’s still a smart, intuitive girl—a natural-born fighter and full of moxie.  Whether or not she remembers, those are her core characteristics, right?”  Margo was trying to keep up hope.

“Yeah, Mom.  Meg is all those things and more,” Alik tried to keep the emotion from his voice.  He didn’t want to share with everyone what he really saw during his retro-cogging. 

He really saw a skeletal version of his sister, gaunt and shaking.  He saw her fighting just to stand on her boney legs in a defensive position, wild-eyed and nearly broken.  He couldn’t tell his family all that he really saw.  He needed them to keep the flame alive.  So he only told them what they needed to know.

“What time will you land?” Theo asked.

“We should land midnight your time.”

“I’ll be there to pick you up.” 

“Thanks, Theo.”

“This is the closest we’ve gotten to her since—” Margo cleared her voice and glanced anxiously toward Evan who was staring at a spot in the tile floor.  “I’m just so thankful we’re getting closer, Alik.  We’ll think of something.   Thank you for calling and please stay safe.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“I love you, Ali.  And tell Farrow and Creed I love them, too.”

“Will do.  Bye.”

The phone clicked dead but everyone continued to stare at it as though it would give one more piece of information if they waited long enough.

Minutes later the family made their way back into the living room only to find Danny had crawled into Maze’s crate and was sleeping with one arm draped over the silver coat of the dejected creature.  The scene was sweet and sad but turned confusing when Theo reached in to slip the child out and found Maze drenched with water.  The coydog’s right front ankle looked completely healthy and absent of the swelling that had been there just minutes before.

“Margo?  What do you make of this?” he whispered over his shoulder at the woman in the wheelchair.

Chapter 52  Blood-Red

“Meg?  Wake up.  We’re almost there.” 

“Hmm?”

He watched her stir from deep sleep.  It was all he could do not to reach out and gently brush her dark, curly lock away as it slipped across her pale face. 
As they drove down the long hospital driveway, the street lights lining the edges laid a rhythmic light pattern across the bridge of her dainty nose.  He had been watching her sleep for the past two hours and hated to wake her, but he knew Arkdone would be waiting for them.  Maybe it was just the echoes of the last three months of watching over her, but he was determined to help her stand tall and ready for what the Senator was going to say.

“Meg…wake up.” He reached out to nudge her shoulder but his hand hesitated, hovering just above her.  Fear gripped him. 

Do I really want to wake her from her innocent sleep?
He thought. 
Her world is going to change the moment she talks with the Senator.  Maybe…

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked around blurry-eyed for a moment before her dark gaze landed directly on the soldier seated beside her.

“Gideon?”

“Yes?”

“Just checking.” Meg’s shoulders relaxed.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Ask me if I’m here, like you can’t see me.”

“Sometimes I can’t see you,” Meg answered cryptically, not wanting to provoke Sirus into pushing forward.  “Is all that the Senator’s home?”  Meg nodded toward the large complex looming before them.

“He lives in a very small part of the hospital.”

“It’s a hospital?” Meg asked, surprised.

“A psychiatric hospital.”

“Creepy.”

“It has its moments.”

Meg was trying to run her fingers through her thick hair and rub the sleep from her eyes. 

“Is the Senator waiting for me?”

“I have no doubt.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Just be yourself.  I’ll be right beside you.”

“But he’s your ‘controller,’ right?  You have to obey him.”

“He has worked too hard to get you back, Meg.  He’s not going to hurt you.”  He looked into the girl’s eyes reassuringly—trying to keep his mounting worries to himself.

Meg cocked her head to the side as though listening to his thoughts and he knew he was busted.  To her credit, she didn’t burst into tears.  Instead, she locked her jaw and nodded once.

“If something happens, I’d like to have a code word and meet-up location with you.” Meg had lowered her voice and leaned toward the soldier’s shoulder to whisper her suggestion in his ear.  “You know, something just between you and me?”

“I don’t know if that’s necessary,” Gideon hesitated.

Afraid he would switch before she got to make this clear, she blurted the first thing that came to mind.  “Code word: blood red.  Meeting place: Gate 8 at the airport we just left.”

“Why Gate 8?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” she said under her breath, eyes wide with anxiety as Ermos pulled the limo up to the intimidating front doors of the psychiatric asylum.

“It’s carved into our backs—I figured you’d remember that number.”  Meg offered one more sincere look before she clipped her facial expression to stoic and confident.

The car stopped and the large driver came around to open the door.  In an act of defiance, Meg pushed the door open herself and gracefully exited the car.  She didn’t look to see Gideon’s eyes turn into Sirus’, but she already knew they would.  The lights around the elaborate porch were lit and cast bizarre shadows on the stately gray cement steps Meg took confidently.  Looking around she felt for a glimmer of recognition from herself, but felt nothing.

The front door swung wide and out walked a man who looked to be in his mid
-thirties, strikingly handsome and had an air of intensity about himself.

“Welcome home, Naya.  How was the trip?” His lips pulled back in what was supposed to be a genuine smile.

“Memorable,” Meg quipped as she ignored his outstretched arms, and walked past him directly into the grand foyer.

“Yes, well,” the Senator nodded graciously at her ill manners and stared after her—watching her look around her new surroundings.  Sirus stood at attention awaiting orders.

“Sirus,” Arkdone beckoned the metamonarch to his side. “I expect a full report on my desk in exactly one hour.  Tell me everything that happened from the time she awakened until now.  Clear?”

“Clear,” Sirus’ voice matched Arkdone’s in its hushed quality. 

He moved away from the soldier, dismissing him with a wave of his hand and turned his full attention back to the girl who was now running her fingers over a freshly painted wall.

“Yes, well, I’ve recently done some remodeling.  This entire foyer, for example, was completely redone.  Do you remember this space, Naya?”

“I would appreciate your calling me ‘Meg,’ Senator.” The girl turned and stared with intensity at the man who, until that moment, had been walking toward her.  He stopped and tilted his head slightly as he studied her.

“What do you remember about this place?” he asked without acknowledging her request.

“Nothing,” she answered simply.

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

“No.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he asked pointedly.

Without missing a beat Meg answered, “While I am sure we have much to discuss, it is late and I’ve had a very,” she paused to choose her word carefully, “taxing day.  Would you be willing to continue this conversation tomorrow morning?”

“I apologize,” the Senator’s eyes eased over her body then back up, “you do look tired.  I’ll show you to your room.  Shall I have Eloise, the housemaid, bring you something to eat so you’ll sleep
restfully?” 

“No, thank you.  I’m too tired to eat.”

“As you wish.”  The bow slightly, as though it were second nature to him, like he’d lived for a long while in a culture to which that custom was the norm.

Meg watched as he turned and beckoned her to follow him down a corridor to the right of two grand staircases.  “Your room is just down this hall, the fourth door on the left.  You’ll find it is more a suite in that it has both sitting and powder rooms.”

The Senator opened the bedroom door with a flourish and stepped aside so Meg could walk in.  The room was decorated with old-world opulence, but what struck Meg wasn’t the lavishness of the room, it was the color: blood red.  Heavily hooded lamps cast warm glows throughout the room.

“I do hope it is to your liking?” Arkdone asked subtly.  He watched her fro
m the corner of his eye, enjoying the thinly disguised anxiousness he saw there.

“It’s fine,” she swallowed. 

“Good.  Then I will leave you to rest and look forward to seeing you in the morning.  Breakfast is served promptly at seven.  I must insist you attend.”  The Senator waited for a sign of acknowledgment from the girl.