The next weeks were a fever dream. I would be running with my cousin; we would make it to that terrifying cave, and I would wake up screaming to the feeling of a massive, boney hand grasping my leg. The medical room would come into view, and there the Doctor waited to apply the next dose, sending me right back.
I don’t know how long I lived that nightmare before I awoke in my exhibit. The furniture around me was Victorian. My body quavered uncontrollably, and my soul felt empty and hollow. I crawled into a corner of the room; my eyes scanned for the monster that had killed my cousin. My wits were scrambled. I sat there for hours, eyes darting as they caught glimpses of long, gray fingers. My whole body flinched at the sound of a door being opened. The two men were back to take me for the fifth—no—seventh time.
“He will break soon.”
“We will see. I think another week.”
“You willing to talk now like a good pup and tell the master what he needs to know?” A man nudged me with his boot.
“No,” My voice was all but gone due to my constant screaming.
“See. He’s tougher than you thought. Let’s get some food in him.” The man placed a platter on the floor next to me. It smelled good; bacon, eggs, and mashed potatoes, a strange mix, but I didn’t care. I grabbed the plate and ate slowly as my head pounded. Then I curled up and fell asleep. If I dreamed, I do not remember. I woke on the operating table, feeling better with only a slight headache. The Doc hovered over me, smiling.
“Your sleep is remarkably deep and restorative. You also scream less. Are you ready to talk?”
“Is he willing to let me go?”
“You’re not ever going to be let go. You’re part of Master Edgewood’s collection. Best to come to grips with it.”
I dreaded the needle, but it was better to be driven insane than lose my bargaining chip. I didn’t know anything else. I would go insane anyway if I was locked away. I’d rather they kill me trying to get the information that wasn’t there. There is no way to kill or capture a grendel. I felt the bite of the needle and was gone again.
This time was different. I was not running but hanging by my feet in a lava tube. Firelight flickered around me. I felt air on my back from exposed muscle, and smelled strips of my own skin cooking on a small fire. My cousin’s mutilated body was hanging next to me. He was barely alive, well past saving. Victor appeared in front of me, lowered me down, and dragged me through the tunnel to my father, who stood at the entrance of a large cave. He had some sort thick, smoldering stub much like the end of a used cigar albeit larger in his left hand and a handgun in the other. “He’s alive? How?” My father’s voice quivered. “What of your son?”
“He is too far gone, but I cannot leave him to suffer,” Victor’s rough voice was grim.
My father glanced at the dwindling stub in his hand. “Go quickly. We don’t have much time.” Victor nodded, pulling his 1911 from his holster—the same one he had given me. Not long after, a deafening gunshot echoed through the cave, and Victor reappeared with fresh blood splattered across his hand and arm. Tears dripped from his bloodshot eyes.
“We can kill it. We have time if we can just draw it back in,” Victor urged.
“No,” my father said. “Anthony may not make it if we try.”
Victor looked at me, “It’s our last talisman; we won’t ever be able to kill it if we leave now.” My father looked down at me then nodded soberly to Victor.
“Let’s hurry.” My father knelt down and seared the inside of my forearm with the burning talisman. The two men tore off running in pursuit of their prey, leaving me to die or so it felt. I lay staring up at the starry sky, waiting for the grendel to return and strip the rest of the skin from my bones. My father left me.
I woke up in the gothic room, curled up against the glass. I was losing it. Every shadow was terrifying boney fingers or Victor’s face splattered with the blood of my cousin. I was having a hard time controlling my breathing. A hand touched my shoulder; I flinched violently. Turning, I found the redhead from the store was crouched over me. Eyes wide and a little apprehensive, she slowly pulled her hand back.
I was still dreaming. I curled back into a ball, closing my eyes. “He must hate you,” Her voice was too real and familiar. I opened my eyes again, head still throbbing. She was still there, coming in and out of focus.
“Are you real?” I found myself asking. Her irritating smile broke across her lips. She grabbed the front of my jacket, pulled me roughly to my feet, and stood me up against the wall. I was surprised her small frame could muster the strength. My head throbbed again, and I tried to fall back down onto the floor, but she held me firm.
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“You broke easier than I would have thought after hearing Lauren’s stories about you, but she’s got a bit of Stockholm syndrome, so I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.” I dropped to the side. “Stand up we don’t have much time. You’re not what I was looking for but leaving you here to rot would be too cruel. Come on.”
She pulled me forward, forcing me to take a step. My head pounded with the movement. I leaned on her, and she walked me out of my exhibit, down a maze of mine shafts, and up a flight of familiar stairs to the hanger. The jet was missing, but a propeller plane was sitting ready to taxi right outside the hanger. This was most definitely a dream.
She leaned me against the plane, popping the cockpit open. She helped pull me up and onto the wing then pushed me tumbling into the cockpit. She climbed over me, pulling the hatch shut behind her before settling herself down in the pilot’s seat. She pulled out a remote that looked very similar to the one Edgewood had been using from her pocket and started mashing buttons.
“What are you doing?” I muttered.
“Giving your host a present for when he gets back.” She started the engine. We were out and on the dirt runway in mere moments. She gunned the engine, and I felt sick as the plane lifted off the ground. Not the painful dream I had been hoping for but better than the nightmares I had been experiencing. I wished for pure, sweet blackness, and it came soon enough.
I woke to the sound of a pump and the smell gasoline wafting through the air. I was alone in the back of the propeller plane. The redhead was chatting with a man in a florescent vest who was pumping gas. They were speaking French or that’s what I thought. My nerves were shot, and my body quivered, still affected by the drugs that had been pumped into me, but my mind was working. The feeling of terror was constant, ebbing in and out. I was ready to cry, scream or mess someone up; I wasn’t sure which urge was the strongest. I sat up. The man nodded to me. The redhead looked a bit troubled that I was awake but smiled and said something to the attendant then walked around the plane to me. She popped open the cab, climbing in. “We’re about to take off.” She said nonchalantly like we were old friends on a trip. “You sleep well?”
“Enough. Mind if I sit up front?”
“Climb on up.”
I sat there strangely relieved to be sitting next to a fae. I let my head flop back against the head rest. The pump popped, and the attendant pulled out the hose and replaced the cap, giving a thumbs up to the redhead. She started the engine, tossing me a pair of comms from off the dash. I put them on and listened as she talked to the flight controller, pulled out onto the taxi way, then preceded to take off.
“There is some food in the glove box,” Her voice crackled over the headset. I popped it open and found a bag of trail mix. I munched on it. It was very stale, but I needed to get my strength up as soon as possible.
“Where are we going?”
“We are picking up Lauren then heading back to the States. The Collector will be right on our tail.”
“I would ask how you got me out, but the real question is why?” I asked frankly.
“Chance. You were in the right place at the right time.”
“Hm.”
She let out a shrill laugh. “You’re not thinking I was purposely trying to find you of all people?” She asked, giving me a wicked smile.
I shook my head. “No, not in a million years. If I were you, I would not have gone to the trouble of recovering me. So why did you?”
“We have a mutual friend. If I left you, they would have been upset.” Amber shifted the airplane slightly to the left.
“Who would that be?” I asked.
She smiled and shook her head. “I will let them tell you if they choose. It’s too much fun keeping you in the dark. You don’t really need to know.”
Trouble is I have a lot of “friends” that she could be referring to. Hobbs rose to the top of the list along with Grace. Regardless, she should know better. I don’t have a reputation of playing nice, and she seemed to know.
We flew in silence for a few hours until she touched us down in another airport in the boonies. Amber looked over at me. “Climb in the back. Lauren doesn’t know I brought you. I would like to give her a heads up before she sees you.” I crawled into the back of the plane and found a spot between some suitcases. Amber parked next to a pump, and an attendant started to fill it up. She got out and headed for the small airport. Not long after, Amber reappeared with Lauren who was dragging a couple suitcases. Lauren looked at me warily as Amber handed me two bags. They climbed in and put on headsets. I settled back against the luggage and pretended to sleep. From time-to-time, Lauren would glance back at me.
A few more stops that I don’t remember, and we were back in Tennessee. I climbed out onto the tarmac at the regional airport. We waited in the parking lot for the Lyft. He showed up, and I loaded the suitcases in the trunk. He dropped us off at a storage unit fifteen minutes from the airport. Amber led the way to a large unit and popped it open, revealing her Jeep. She closed the rolling door behind us. The two women looked at me for the first time then glanced at each other.
“We should check you for a tracer before you go. My guess is you have something similar to Lauren.” Amber dug around her Jeep and pulled out a small device like a plastic wand. She handed it to me after turning it on. “Run it all over your body. They most likely injected it into your butt cheek or thigh, but he might have planted more than one, so it would be good to be thorough. It will pick up a tracking signal and metal so it’s best not to have to work around buttons and zippers.”
I took the wand; the three of us stood for a moment, looking at each other. “I’m not going to strip in front of the two of you; this isn’t an audition for Thunder Down Under.”
The redhead rolled her eyes, and Lauren’s face flushed. “I did not need that image in my head. You wouldn’t make the cut; I can tell you that right now,” The redhead stated sarcastically. “Come on Lauren. We should find something to eat.” She turned, pulling the rolling door open and pulled it shut after them.