Chapter Twenty-Three
“Oh, God.” Taylor woke up with a groan and slowly, painfully sat up. Her head throbbed and her throat and mouth were dry.
She was in an enormous metal cage, in a dark room. She could see surprisingly well, considering how dark it was. The cement floor felt icy cold.
Chantelle lay curled up on the floor next to her, her breathing shallow.
Panic rushed through her, and she felt like a helium balloon, light with fear. Was Cliff okay? Were Truman and Rusty dead? Why had Perry and Joel kidnapped her and Chantelle, and why was she in a damn cage?
Don’t panic. Panicking won’t help. The whole pack will be out looking for us. They’ll find us – out of self-preservation if nothing else.
But would they find them in time? Perry and Joel obviously had plans for her and Chantelle – bad plans.
A sickening thought occurred to her. Serafina’s parents, killed by a hunter who basically used an elephant gun on them…had that been a coincidence, them running into the wrong person at the wrong time like that?
Were Perry and Joel planning to hunt her and Chantelle?
She looked around the room. The door was closed and there were no windows, but somehow she could see. It must be because she was so close to the turn. There was one other cage in the room, but it was empty. Why were there two cages?
The moon pulled at her. It wouldn’t be long now. She sensed it. It was getting close to morning, and that evening, she’d turn. She didn’t know how she knew…but she was sure of it.
Was she going to turn here, alone, without help? Would she kill Chantelle when she did?
She crawled over to the cage door. The cage was too small for her to stand up and walk. She tried the door, but of course it was locked. She patted her head, feeling her hair for bobby pins. She didn’t have any, and she didn’t actually know how to pick a lock, although if she’d found a bobby pin she would at least have tried.
She crawled back to Chantelle, who looked pale and drawn underneath her heavy layer of makeup.
“Chantelle, wake up,” she whispered, pushing her shoulder.
Chantelle groaned and mumbled something.
“Wake up. Now. It’s an emergency.”
“What’s happening?” Chantelle sat up, looking around in confusion.
“Perry and Joel shot us with tranquilizer darts and kidnapped us.”
Chantelle’s eyes widened in panic as she took in their surroundings. “Rusty? Is Rusty okay?”
Odd question.
Before Taylor could answer, the door swung open.
Perry hurried in, with his ever present smile on his face. “Oh, good, you’re awake,” he said pleasantly. “Won’t be long now!. And, two of you! At least one of you should survive the change. If both of you do, that’ll be even better.”
“Chantelle’s not a werewolf,” Taylor said, dazed. She had so many questions she didn’t know where to start.
“Ah, ah, ah.” He wagged his finger at her chastisingly. “No point in lying now.”
“Why would I bother lying?”
Perry shrugged. “Joel says she is. He can smell it. Because it’s so close to the full moon.”
Chantelle nodded wearily. “It’s true. Rusty bit me.”
“What the hell?”
“I asked him to. Long story.” Chantelle looked away.
“Joel is a werewolf.” Taylor digested that information. “How did that happen?”
Perry sighed. “He’s such a silly boy. He wanted to find out the formula for the product samples, so he started following the trucks back and spying on people. He was in the army for a while before… Well, anyway. He has good surveillance skills.”
“Before he was dishonorably discharged?” Taylor said nastily.
A rare look of anger flashed across Perry’s face. “He was set up!” he snapped. “Anyway, he figured it out. And he decided that he wanted to become one. The ultimate strength and power. He found out that there was a couple who liked to shift into wolf form outside the pack grounds, and he hunted them down. He got one of them to give him a non-fatal bite as it lay dying.”
Holy hell. Serafina’s parents.
“You’re going to hunt us?” Taylor glared at him with hatred.
Perry let out a peal of laughter. “That’s what you thought? Oh, no, no, no! You have nothing to worry about, Taylor. He just really needs a mate. He’s been having terrible mood swings, and this will settle him right down. I’m sure of it. I wanted a nice girl for him. That’s why I chose you, Taylor. Because you’re a nice girl. I like you.”
“This is how you show me you like me?” she snapped. “By secretly infecting me with the werewolf virus and risking my life? I could die, you know.”
“That’s true,” Perry said sadly. “The last girl I tried it on died.”
“What?” Taylor shrieked in horror.
“She was very skinny, though. And also…let’s say she’d led a troubled life. Not very healthy. That’s the other reason I picked you. You’re larger. More substantial,” he said, in a tone that was meant to be reassuring. “Maybe that will make a difference.” He glanced regretfully at Chantelle. “She’s skinny and she looks sick. She probably won’t make it.” Then his face lit up. “But if she does, then my boy will have two mates instead of one!”
He was a fucking lunatic.
Taylor thought her heart would hammer right through her ribcage. “You’ve gone completely insane. What makes you think I’d voluntarily be with Joel? I love Cliff. I hate Joel’s guts.” Tears filled her eyes. She hadn’t told Cliff she loved him. Now she’d never get the chance.
“Oh, I’ve been studying up on all kinds of compliance techniques,” Perry said cheerfully. “We can keep you chained up all the time if we have to. Hand and foot, if necessary. Of course, if Chantelle survives, that will make it much easier. We’ll just keep you two separate, and if you want your friend to avoid torture, then you’ll cooperate. Otherwise I might just use Chantelle’s cattle prod on her. In some very sensitive areas.” He actually giggled at that, like a naughty little boy who’d just said a bad word.
“How did you turn me? I was never bitten.”
“I mixed some of Joel’s saliva into the coffee I brought you. I gave it to you for months and months. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it sure did.” He looked proud of himself. Taylor thought she might puke.
Taylor swallowed hard. “We need water. I’m thirsty.”
Perry looked at her, cocking his head to the side. “I don’t think so. You haven’t earned water. That’s one of the compliance techniques I’ve learned about. Eating and drinking is a privilege. For that matter, breathing is a privilege. If you don’t work out, I can always get my boy another mate. And another one after that. Until we find the right one.”
“At least give Chantelle some water,” Taylor pleaded. “You want her to survive the turn. She’s already weak.”
“She probably won’t survive either way. And if she doesn’t, that’ll be a lesson for you. A lesson in compliance.” He giggled again.
Rage and fear swirled in the pit of her stomach, making her nauseated. He was a psychopath. How had she missed that? Sure, he’d always seemed a little off, but in a goofy, harmless way.
“Who is the other cage for?” she croaked, her throat as dry as a desert.
“Joel. He’ll be here shortly. Can’t have my boy running around in the woods when he turns. He might get hurt.” He giggled again, and left.
Taylor glanced at Chantelle, who was sitting up, hugging her knees, staring at nothing.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Rusty?” Taylor asked. She cleared her throat. She was so very, very thirsty.
Chantelle laid her head on her folded arms. “We couldn’t risk Jerrold finding out, and Rusty was worried that he might have spies in Cliff’s house, or he might be listening in on my cell phone or Rusty’s cell phone.” Her voice was weary and faint. “We fell for each other right away, but if we told Jerrold, he’d have pulled Rusty out and replaced him with another guard, so we had to act as if we hated each other. When we…uh…fooled around, we made sure we were alone in the room and Truman had our cell phones with him. Truman was in on it all along.”
Taylor shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand why you let Rusty bite you. You had all the pills you could ever need.”
“They stopped working. I’m getting sick again. My only hope of survival is being turned.”
That was why she’d been wearing makeup. To hide that she was deathly pale. She’d been pale when she’d showed up that first day and Jerrold had caught her. And the headaches… She just hadn’t told Taylor because she didn’t want to worry her, but Taylor should have guessed something was up. Maybe she’d sensed it on some level but denied it, because she couldn’t bear to think of Chantelle getting sick again.
“I sat in on those meditation sessions with you,” Chantelle whispered. “I’m prepared. I should be okay. Rusty said so.”
If Chantelle was sick and weak, there was less chance of her surviving the turn, but Taylor didn’t want to tell her that because she didn’t want to stress her out.
Instead, she stroked her hair and talked to her about changing. Rusty had started the process with her, so maybe Chantelle would have a chance. The change wouldn’t come as a complete shock, and she wouldn’t be alone. Taylor would be with her.
Still. She was so weak. And as the hours marched on, she grew weaker and stopped talking.