Page 18 of Fat Enemy Mate

“Ok, they had you, and something happened when one of them came in. What happened? I want the rest.” I say calmly.

“Like I told you. I woke up there after the truck went off the road. After they ran me off the road.” I say, taking a sip of the coffee and willing my hands not to shake. “One of them came in, and I knew straight away what he was going to do. I screamed, and he went straight down like he physically couldn’t move. Another one rushed me, and it happened again.”

“What did they do then?” I ask carefully, my hand gripping the cup as I try to hide how angry this whole situation with the rogues makes me. The thought of what they would have done to her if she hadn’t been able to stop them turns my stomach.

“They just avoided me,” she says, “they brought food and water once a day but kept their distance.”

I nod but stay silent and let her go on at her own pace.

“The camp wasn’t very big, so I could still hear them sometimes,” she continues in between sips of coffee, obviously trying to warm herself back up. “Maybe they thought I couldn’t hear them, or they didn’t care. They said they couldn’t shift around me. They said they were bringing a witch in and could use me somehow. I never worked out why or for what. Some kid brought me food one night, but didn’t latch the door properly. I took my chance and ran.”

“Whatever it is works on me, but not enough, eh?” I say, after a moment.

She looks up, and I see her eyes are wet, but she’s not crying. I suspect she’d rather die than cry in front of me. She’s proud and certainly stronger than I expected. “I don’t know why it worked on them and not you. Maybe it just doesn’t work anymore. I’m not playing at this. I genuinely don’t know.”

“Ok,” I say, calmly, weighing up everything she’s said and thinking about the talismans I found on the rogues. “You’re not being handed over to anyone. I’m not trying to use you or this power. My pack wouldn’t do that.”

“You can’t promise that.” She says, meeting my eye defiantly.

“Yes, I can,” I say firmly. “There’s a difference between trying to stop the rogues and trying to help you, and using you.”

She doesn’t reply but holds my gaze before finally looking away at the fire again.

I get up and refill our coffees, just for something to do. I notice she has more or less stopped shaking now, and the dressing on her hairline has almost come off completely, so I grab the medical kit and crouch down by her side.

“It’s coming off, hold still,” I tell her as I pull out a clean dressing.

“It’s fine.” She sniffs.

“It isn’t. It’s still weeping. Better to keep it covered.” I tell her, and she nods, holding still as I peel the dressing off and press the fresh one over the wound. It looks a lot better than it did. “Another couple of days and it will be good.”

She’s not looking at me and seems to be holding her breath, but she nods shakily. Sitting this close, it’s hard to ignore how pretty she looks, but I try to ignore it because it’s clearly the last thing in the world she wants me thinking about.

I lean back, full of more questions. “I…” I start, but I’m cut off by the perimeter alarm going off.

She physically jumps, eyes going wide. “It’s one of the secondary alarms; it just means something has crossed one of the outer sensors. I’ve got everything set to the max,” because you tried to escape, I think, but I don’t say it. “Stay in the cabin. Now is not the time to run. Lock the door in the back room; it’s the only one with a solid enough door. Don’t open it until you hear my voice. Understood?”

“Y-yes,” she replies shakily, but I’m already moving and don’t look back as I hear her scramble for the back room.

I check which sensor was triggered as I head out. My wolf is itching to be let out, but I hold him back, only letting him surface enough for my senses to sharpen, along with my claws. When the sensors are set to the max, they often do pick up more benign disturbances, but I’m not taking any chances. I head for the one that was triggered and immediately see the cause. A small group of deer is picking their way across the main trail that leads to the cabin from the north. I watch them for a moment, and they remain oblivious, nature's prey. Suddenly, one seemsto catch wind that a wolf is watching, and the group turns in my direction before scattering. Once they’re clear, I run the entire north perimeter and check all the sensors before doubling back to the cabin.

She isn’t in the front room, so I head toward the back room. “Lara, it’s clear. Just deer.”

I hear the click of the lock, but the door doesn’t open, and I hear a small sound through the door, a breath taken too quickly. I gently push open the door and find her pressed into the corner, the knife in her hand, and her back against the wall. She’s shaking so hard I can see her tremble from the doorway.

Shit.

“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice low. “It’s just me.”

She doesn’t move, but I note the exhale. She’s brave, but perhaps I didn’t realize how rattled she still is. I move further into the room with my hands out and crouch down to her level so I’m not standing over her. The knife shakes in her hand, her eyes wide, and she looks so pale again, all the color drained from her face.

“Just a deer setting off the sensors. Shows how well they work, eh?” I say.

“You were gone too long,” she says quietly.

“I just needed to be sure.” I tell her, “And now I am.”

She nods and tries to say something else, but it comes out as a sob, and the knife slips out of her hand as she tries to stifle her emotions with her hand. Instinctively, I reach out and slowly draw her in. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until suddenly she’s in my arms, and my hand wraps around her shoulder gently, mindful of her ribs. Mindful of my strength. I’m sure she’ll push me away or even scream, but she just tensesa fraction before relaxing, her own hand coming up to grip the front of my shirt.