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Tales of the Winter Wolf, Vol. 1 Page 2
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I delighted in the worry in the Fenerec’s tone.
When I was able to move again, when my body didn’t feel quite so numb and tingly, they’d have a lot more than my father to worry about. There was no way I was going to let them get away with kidnapping me without a fight.
Maybe I was a Normal, maybe I wasn’t a match for a Fenerec’s strength, but I wasn’t going to go out quietly.
“So, what’s the deal?”
One of the Fenerec whined.
David huffed. “First, we get out of the Seattle area. We’ll go with our original plan and take her to the Pacific Crest Trail up near Snoqualmie Pass. If he cooperates, we’ll leave her for him to find.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“We dump her,” David replied, his tone so casual it chilled me.
“I’m pretty sure killing her sister—her bloody fucking twin—isn’t going to get Lisa to cooperate with us,” Oliver snapped. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”
“No, but she’ll suffer because of it. That’s good enough for me. If the bitch thinks she can play us and get away with it…”
“What do we do?” Oliver demanded.
There was a long pause. “Take a picture of her with her phone and send it to Mr. Desmond. Set the meeting time for dawn. Tell him he has two choices: he can send Lisa—alone—or he can send a middleman with a briefcase full of cash to Lake Lila. He better pay what he thinks his girl is worth. Going on the cheap with us won’t end well for her. If he shows up, we kill her. Make it clear it won’t take much for us to snap her neck.”
“You’re going to get us killed, man.”
“He’ll have no way of knowing it’s us,” David rebuked.
Oliver didn’t reply. I heard the click-clack of him typing a message using my phone, followed by the snap of a photo being taken. “Fine. It’s done.”
“Good. Now shut up and let me drive.”
It wasn’t until I felt the change in elevation and my ears started popping that I was able to move. Stabbing pain lanced down my spine all the way to my toes before zapping into my skull. A groan escaped me when David hit a particularly bumpy patch of road.
“She’s waking up,” Oliver announced.
“We’re almost there. Keep her on the floor until we’re near the lodge.”
Since they knew I was awake, there was no point keeping my eyes closed. I was sprawled across the back of the van with three of the Fenerec, my feet behind the driver’s seat. Wincing at what I hoped was a pinched nerve, I systematically moved my fingers and toes. I let out a relieved sigh. It hurt, but I wasn’t paralyzed.
With all three of the Fenerec near me watching my every move, I couldn’t risk drawing attention to my heeled boots. If I wanted to deal with four young, rutting Fenerec with a grudge, I needed to be smarter than them. For me to have any chance of escape, they couldn’t learn I had a knife, not until I used it on one of them, preferably David.
My father had never told me what to do if a pack of Fenerec snatched me. Had he deemed it an impossibility, or was he so confident no one would defy him that it never occurred to him it could happen? Either seemed plausible.
A few minutes later, David parked the van. He circled to the side door, sliding it open.
Maybe Seattle was rainy during early winter, but it was snowing at Snoqualmie pass. The cold air blasting my face roused me enough to recoil from the Fenerec, backing up until I pressed against the far side of the van.
“Doesn’t look too hurt to me,” David accused, glaring at the Fenerec sitting in the middle.
Blond-haired, blue-eyed Oliver shrugged. “Take a look at her throat.”
“It’s bruised. So what? Bitch should be grateful that’s all she’ll walk away with, so long as she cooperates. If she doesn’t, well, that’s another story. I never promised we wouldn’t have fun with her before sending her home.”
My rage ignited at the thought of any one of them laying a finger on me. “Don’t you even dare,” I snarled. My voice was raspy and speaking hurt my throat.
David glared at me. “If you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
“David, fuck off. We’re not touching her,” Oliver snapped, lunging out of the van to grab David by the throat. “I’m not a fucking rapist. Not now, not ever, and certainly not because of you.”
With wide, bulging eyes, David struggled to choke out a word, but Oliver didn’t let him. When David nodded, the other Fenerec loosened his grip. “I draw the line at rape. If she wants to enjoy our company tonight, that’s her choice. But if you try to force her, I swear to God I’ll rip you to pieces.”
Maybe David had been the boss during the drive, but none of them dared to defy Oliver.
If they seriously thought I was going to sleep with any of them, they were insane.
“Get her out and to the lodge before we freeze to death,” David growled, pulling free of Oliver’s grip to spin around and stomp through the snow, disappearing from sight.
Oliver sighed. “I’m really sorry about this, Miss Desmond. Come on. You really will freeze to death if you stay in the van. The lodge isn’t far.”
I waited for the other two Fenerec to get out of the van before trying to stand. While I had managed to crawl away from David, my legs refused to obey my will or bear my weight. When I tried to slither out of the vehicle, my knees buckled. Without Oliver grabbing hold of my arm with bruising force, I would have fallen.
Clenching my teeth, I forced myself to walk, step by wobbling step. True to their word, the lodge wasn’t far. Oliver shoved me down onto one of the main room’s armchairs.
David crossed his arms, glowering down at me. “This is how it’s going to work. You’re going to sit there, keep your mouth shut, and do as told. Don’t even think about moving without asking for permission. If you do, I’ll tie you up myself. Understand?”
“Understood,” I replied, flexing my hands. Unlike the Fenerec, who shucked off their snow-covered shoes, I left my boots on. When my chance came, I’d have my knife close at hand.
But first, I needed a plan.
It didn’t take me long to come to two conclusions. First, David was higher strung than a racehorse, jumping at every shadow and noise. If the noise came from me, he growled. If it didn’t, he growled while checking the door and windows, so tense his fellow Fenerec whined and shifted with restless nervousness. Second, for all they were kidnappers and Fenerec, they were idiots.
David was the mastermind, but the other three, Oliver included, lacked the basic intelligence and common sense to question his ideas or think things through. They hadn’t stopped to consider anything beyond grabbing my sister, not even their basic needs for survival.
Not only was I trapped in a lodge with four desperate Fenerec, they were four desperate, hungry Fenerec. I didn’t have any first-hand experience with a hungry Fenerec.
My father and mother made certain to keep their stomachs content, especially around us, and that was enough of a warning for me. If my father wasn’t willing to come near us when he hadn’t had enough to eat, then the last place I wanted to be was in the same room with four hungry wolves.
I didn’t want to be on the menu.
I sighed. David whirled in my direction, his upper lip curled up to reveal his teeth. With his growls rumbling in his chest, he took one step towards me.
“Is there a kitchen in this place?” I asked, careful to keep my eyes fixed on the floor. After hours of staying put, I had only come up with one idea, and it involved prescription medication and the risk of poisoning myself in my attempt to disable them long enough to stage my escape.
While I had a silver knife, I had no way of killing them without dying in the attempt. One I might be able to handle, but with four of them versus one of me, I’d be ripped to pieces.
“A kitchen,” David echoed, and I wasn’t sure if he meant it as a question or not.
“A kitchen,” I confirmed. “Is there one here?”
“Sure,” Oliver said
, pointing at a door on the far side of the room. “The dining room and kitchen are over there. Why?”
There were no clocks in the lodge, but it was dark outside of the window. “For some reason, I don’t think they have delivery out here.”
David’s eyes narrowed. “You can cook?”
“Do you really think my father would let me live in Stanford’s dorms? It’s a co-ed school. I have an apartment near campus. Cook or starve, that’s how it works.” I shook my head. I had no more doubts about why my sister and father had rejected them as suitable candidates. It was a miracle they hadn’t managed to get themselves killed tripping over their own feet.
If I didn’t do something, including feed them, I’d end up dead or worse as a consequence of sharing space with them for too long. All I could do was hope their stupidity wasn’t contagious.
“Go,” David snapped, pointing at the kitchen.
“I don’t know how it’s stocked,” Oliver warned.
“If you don’t have anything in the kitchen, well, I suppose one of you could take the van and go to the grocery store,” I countered, standing. Three versus one didn’t make the odds any better for me, but at least I wouldn’t get eaten by default. “If you don’t mind, I’ll study at the same time.”
The Fenerec exchanged looks. David shrugged. “Whatever.”
I grabbed my briefcase on my way to the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to take in the rustic decor that clashed with the stainless steel stove and appliances. I wasn’t sure how they got hold of such a place, but if the kitchen was any indicator, they had more money than they knew what to do with.
I checked the pantry, and to my relief, it was stocked to feed an army through a siege. I hummed, wincing as my throat ached from the abuse. The freezer and fridge told similar stories, although the milk had expired a week ago and I was pretty certain the cheese hadn’t always been blue-green. Setting my briefcase on the counter, I explored to see what I had to work with.
My father and mother ate meat with every meal, so I raided the freezer for several packs of ground beef, doubled what I thought they’d eat just to be certain, and set it in the sink to thaw. Running cold water over the packages, I headed to the pantry.
If spaghetti didn’t satisfy the werewolves, I was in a lot of trouble. It didn’t take me long to start the sauce. I heard a low whine from the doorway. I whirled around. All four Fenerec crowded the doorway to watch me.
“If you’re going to hover, at least sit at the table,” I said, pulling out a frying pan.
Meatballs took extra work, but I needed them for my plan to work. They also served a second purpose; if I didn’t keep myself busy while they watched me, they wouldn’t be the only ones fidgeting. I relaxed when they obeyed, settling down to wait. The kitchen had a counter that separated it from the dining room, providing a barricade between them and me.
If the eggs were rotten, I was in trouble. If I wanted to drug them with my medication without killing myself in the process, I needed the meatballs. My hands trembled as I checked the package. Relief made me weak in the knees. They were still good for a couple of days.
While I worked, they watched me. When I ran out of things to do, I emptied out most of my briefcase, stacking my books and notes so I could study while waiting for dinner to cook. I leaned against the counter, ignoring the Fenerec.
At the bottom of my briefcase was my salvation, if I could use them without them noticing what I was up to. My overprotective father had insisted I see a doctor while at Stanford. At my visit two weeks ago, she had prescribed sleeping pills strong enough to knock out a horse.
With enough garlic and a bit of chili pepper, they wouldn’t notice the bitter flavor the pills added. All I had to do was make certain they ate enough to fall asleep and that I ate as little as possible. If I dosed the meatballs, I could avoid them and only ingest the residue that seeped from the meat to the sauce.
One stolen van later, and I’d be able to get as far from the Fenerec as possible.
My backup plan involved stabbing them with my silver knife until they stopped moving, but the thought of killing them left my stomach churning, as did the unlikelihood of me successfully pulling off such a stunt. I would try, but only if I had to. At least knocking them out was fair play; I wasn’t strong enough to strangle them like David had done to me, so I would cheat.
I settled on Business Economics as my reading of choice, spinning my pen between my fingers as I read about investment strategies for small and mid-sized businesses. When my cell rang in the other room, I looked up. Oliver rose, hurrying to the other room. He brought the phone in by the third ring.
“It’s Mr. Desmond,” Oliver announced.
“Let it go to voice mail,” David replied.
The Fenerec watched the phone as though it were a rattler poised to strike.
“He’ll keep calling until someone answers,” I informed them, turning my attention back to my reading. True to my warning, not half a minute after my phone stopped ringing, it rang again. I kept my mouth shut.
David ignored the call four more times before he grabbed my phone and answered it. “What?” he snapped.
I turned my back to him, bowed my head, and sighed. I didn’t need a Fenerec’s enhanced hearing to make out my father’s rumbling growls. Grabbing the granite mortar and pestle, I set it up so I could pound garlic cloves and chili peppers for the meatballs and the sauce. While all four Fenerec were focused on my phone, I reached into my briefcase, grabbed the pill bottle, and slipped it into my skirt’s pocket.
“She’s alive,” David said. “We told you what to do, Mr. Desmond.”
I had to admire the young Fenerec in a way; few were willing to stand up to my father. It probably wouldn’t end well for David, but that wasn’t my fault. I hadn’t asked to be kidnapped.
“We sent a photograph of her. That’s proof enough we have her.”
Since I couldn’t pound at spices while David was talking to my father, I returned to my books, watching the four Fenerec through my lashes. Oliver stared at the tabletop while the other two gawked at David, their faces pale.
“No, you can’t talk to her. Put the third party on the line. If she talks to anyone, it’ll be them and only them. And don’t think you can trick me; I’ll hear every last word. You’ll get her back. The only question is how many pieces she’ll be in.”
I had to give David credit. As far as threats went, dismemberment was a pretty good one. I shivered. If my plan to dine and dash didn’t work, I’d be in a lot of trouble.
“Fine. I’ll wait.” David drummed his fingers on the table. The minutes dragged on. I wished I could hear the other half of the conversation. It’d give me a better idea of whether or not I had a limited lifespan. Straightening, David’s gaze flicked to mine. I jerked, lowering my head and eyes. “Very well. As I told Mr. Desmond, if I hear anyone else on your end of the line, I’ll send her back to you in pieces. Understood?”
Whatever was said must have satisfied David, because he held the phone out to Oliver, who took it and passed it to me.
There were three ways I answered the phone; if I was in a good mood and liked the caller, I said my first name. If the call was about business, I used my father’s method of answering with my last name. Finally, if I was pissed, I cursed. I wanted to spew profanities, but I settled with a clipped, “Desmond.”
“You sound like you swallowed a toad and it died in your throat.” It took me a moment to recognize Richard Murphy’s deep voice.
I tightened my grip on my cell, tempted to throw the device across the room. I clenched my teeth. “My father must have had to scrape the bottom of the barrel if you’re the best he could do.”
“Is that any way to treat your rescuer?” The amusement in Richard’s voice stoked my fury.
“Rescuer? Don’t you mean liability?”
“Isn’t that a bit harsh, Miss Desmond?”
I snorted, turning my back to the Fenerec so I could lean against the counter. “Ar
e you satisfied?”
“No. I want to know if the photo they sent is authentic.”
“I haven’t seen it,” I replied, shrugging. “Probably.”
David echoed the growls on the other end of the line.
“Your father wants to know if those four boys touched you,” Richard said.
I shivered. “They haven’t.”
“He wants you to do what they want. He’ll see you in the morning.”
David yanked the phone out of my hands. “You’ve heard her voice. Do your part of the deal. Any tricks, and while you’ll see her in the morning, the only place you’ll be taking her is a cemetery.”
The Fenerec hung up. He grabbed hold of my chin, pulling me closer to him. “How did he know there were four of us?”
I swallowed and remained silent. Narrowing his eyes, David let go of me, pocketed my cell, and returned to the table without another word.
My hope of making it to morning alive crumbled to dust. My father wasn’t the type of person to sit idle and do nothing. The Fenerec knew it. I knew it. The longer I remained alive lessened their chances of survival.
In the course of an afternoon, my life had turned into a bad action flick. Maybe in the movies the hostage managed to escape, but in reality, kidnappings too often ended with a corpse—the victim’s corpse. Judging by the way the three other Fenerec whined and refused to look at me, I suspected they realized it as well.
I ground up the entire bottle of pills. If it didn’t work, it didn’t matter.
Either way, I was as good as dead.
Taste-testing drugged food did a number on my nerves. My hands shook. When the Fenerec noticed, I blamed it on a lack of sleep, laughing weakly over my upcoming exams. I hid my lie behind a shield of truth.
Teenage Fenerec weren’t much different than teenage humans; they understood the ongoing battery of tests. That each of my tests took several hours evoked sympathy, and I took advantage of it.
I tried just enough of the sauce and meatballs to feel the medication dull the edge of my anxiety, which made it easier to relax but harder to concentrate on what I needed to do. I couldn’t taste the pills through the overwhelming spices and the chili peppers. I served the Fenerec first before dishing out a plate for myself.