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Authors: Natalie Shaw

The Lost Years (2 page)

BOOK: The Lost Years
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Chapter 2

 

 

I wasn't sure if I'd actually heard it at first. I listened again, and for a few seconds, there was only the sound of the birds. There it was again—a vehicle's engine. The sound grew slowly louder—it was getting closer.

Despite a thorough search of the room, I'd not been able to find anything that I could use as a weapon. I had no idea who would walk through the door. Whoever it was, I would have to get them to come close enough so I could mount my attack. If they didn't, I'd be powerless to do anything.

The engine noise was much louder now. It was no more than a few metres away. I stood up and moved as close to the door as the chain would allow. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins; my pulse was in over-drive.

I heard footsteps, and then the sound of a key in the lock. I was about to find out who my captor was, and with a little luck, I was about to reap my revenge. The handle turned, and the door swung slowly open.

 

“Layla?”

“Hello, Louise.”

I stared at her—unable to process what I was seeing.

“You were asleep when I came before,” she said.

“What the fuck's going on? Why am I here?”

“So many questions.” She lay down her basket, and pushed the door closed behind her. Her movements were quite deliberate. She'd not yet ventured more than a few feet into the room—still far beyond my reach.

“Where am I?”

“You don't need to know that.” Layla's face showed no expression. Her cold eyes cut through me.

We'd known each other since forever. As young shifters, we'd run, played and learned to hunt together. She'd been my best friend, but as we'd grown older, we'd drifted apart. Like my father, I'd never seen humans as the enemy. He'd taken the view that if we lived side-by-side in harmony that everyone benefited. He'd even had limited success in convincing the vampires to buy into his philosophy. The majority of pack members had backed him, but there had been a few who simply could not accept the idea that we should treat humans as equals. Layla was one of those. I'd never really understood why, but she'd always hated humans with a passion. Our laws forbid unprovoked attacks on humans, but I suspected her of doing so on more than one occasion.

“Tell me!” I thrust towards her. I wanted to feel my hands around her neck.

Layla didn't move; she barely even flinched. She knew full well she was beyond my reach.

“You don't give the orders,” she said—her voice cold.

“Why are you doing this?”

“You should be grateful you're still breathing.”

“Who brought me here? Who are you working for? Where is Craven?”

I don't have to answer your questions. Pass me those.”

I walked over to the table, but never once took my gaze from her.

“Is this what you want?” I held up the tray on which stood the empty metal plate.

“Slide it over to me,” she said.

“Fuck you!” I launched first the plate and then the tray at her. Her reflexes were keen, but the plate still caught her on the shoulder. The tray missed its mark by only a few inches.

“No.” She grinned. “Fuck you.” She turned back towards the door. “No food for you today.”

“I'm going to tear your fucking throat out,” I shouted after her, but she was already out of the door.

I was still shaking with anger by the time the sound of the vehicle's engine had drifted away. I paced around the room trying to calm myself. It had been a stupid move to throw the tray at her. If I was to have any hope of escape, I had to keep up my strength.  I couldn't afford to turn down food.

When would she return? Would she punish me further? Would I be without food for several days?

 

Of all the people who might have walked through that door, Layla hadn't even been on my long-list. I was certain she wasn't the only one behind this. It would have been impossible for her to have planned and executed this alone. Who could she be working for or with? My first instinct was that it must be Drake or even Milton himself. Layla wouldn't team up with the vampires; she hated them almost as much as she hated humans. How deep was her involvement? Had she known about the attack on Jesters? Had she been involved with my father's murder? The thought that she might have had a hand in his death made me sick to my stomach. When Layla and I had been young shifters, he'd often taken the two of us on outings. He'd treated Layla as though she and I were sisters—as though she was his own daughter. Could she really have betrayed him?

I had to reel in my anger. No matter my feelings toward Layla were, I couldn't let them get the better of me again. Ranting and raving, and throwing things at her wouldn't get me the answers. Nor would it get me the food I needed to keep up my strength.

 

*********

 

The hours dragged by. Looking at those four walls was driving me slowly crazy. I'd have given anything to be able to see what was outside. Even though I'd had plenty of time to think, I was no nearer knowing who was holding me. They must want me alive otherwise they'd have killed me by now. Layla might have withheld my food today, but she couldn't keep doing that. What if I turned the tables on them, and refused to eat? Would that flush out whoever was behind this? I wasn't ready to take that risk just yet. Instead, I formulated a plan. From now on I'd give the appearance of being co-operative. Rather than be confrontational, I'd try to gain Layla's trust. It wasn't going to be easy. All I really wanted to do was to slice her throat open. But not yet. For now, I had to be patient. If I could earn her trust, maybe in time, she'd drop her guard—then I'd make my move.

 

As I lay on the bed, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. A small spider was scurrying across the floor. I sprang off the bed, and followed it as it made its way under the table. On all fours, I watched as it disappeared down the narrowest of cracks in the concrete. I waited—just staring at the crack—willing it to reappear. Thirty minutes later, and I knew it wasn't coming back. It was crazy, but somehow I felt even more alone.

A key turned in the lock.

 

I didn't recognise the young male shifter. He was tall with short brown hair. I hadn't heard a vehicle approach. Had he travelled on foot? Was there another building close by? Where was Layla? He carried a basket similar, maybe even identical, to the one Layla had brought earlier. Keep calm, I told myself. He didn't make eye contact with me as he closed the door behind him. For a moment I wondered if he might stray into range, but he stayed beyond my reach just as Layla had done.

“Who are you?” I tried to keep my tone friendly.

He didn't respond or even look up. Instead he began to unpack the basket.

“Where's Layla?” I tried again.

It was as though he was deaf. My words had no discernible impact on him.

Once he'd placed the food on the tray, he slid it slowly along the floor until it was within my reach.

“Thank you.” I somehow managed a smile, but it was wasted on him. He still refused to look at me.

“Hey, you!” My resolve had been exhausted. “I'm speaking to you. Look at me!”

He raised his head, and our eyes locked for a moment.

“Where's Layla?”

“Eat the food,” he said.

“Where is this place?”

He turned and made his way back to the door.

“Please!” I screamed.

He stopped and turned to face me. For a moment, I thought he was going to speak. He didn't. Instead, he turned back to the door, and within moments had left.

“Come back here, you bastard. Answer my questions!”

I listened, but could hear nothing. He hadn't arrived in a vehicle. What did that mean? I wasn't sure. I grabbed the tray and put it onto the table. It was the same selection of food except this time I had a pear instead of an apple. I was still hungry after I'd eaten it all.

 

By mid morning the next day, I was hungry, and eager for my food to be delivered. Would it be Layla or the young male? All day long, I listened for the sound of a vehicle and kept an eye on the door handle. No one came. It took all of my inner strength to keep a lid on my panic. What if no one came the next day or the day after that? How long would it take me to starve?

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

It was the following morning when I heard the vehicle. It seemed an age until it came to a halt outside. The engine died, and shortly after, I heard footsteps approaching the door.

“Good morning, Louise,” Layla said in a bright and breezy voice as though we'd met up for coffee.

“Where the hell were you yesterday?” I'd promised myself to remain calm and be friendly, but my anger had already bubbled to the surface.

“Be quiet or you'll get no food today either.” She spat the words.

I bit my lip. “Sorry,” I almost choked on the word.

I watched in silence as she unpacked the basket of food.

“Will you at least tell me how long you intend to keep me here?”

“I wouldn't be in any hurry to leave if I was you.”

What did she mean by that, and did I really want to know?

“Where is
here
?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“We used to be friends.” I tried a different approach.

She stared at me with cold, dead eyes. “That was a long time ago.”

“What happened? I thought we still were.”

“Don't make me laugh,” she scoffed. “We haven't been friends for a long time. You showed your true colours when you chose humans over your own kind.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Do you think I'm stupid?” Her face was full of rage, as she came a little closer. Just two or three steps more and she'd be mine.

“Like father, like daughter,” she said, her voice full of contempt.

“My father loved you as though you were his own child,” I said. “Can't you remember when we were young—?”

“All I know is that your father betrayed us. Betrayed his own pack.”

“He didn't betray anyone. All he did was—”

“All he did was get into bed with the human scum. All he did was forget who we are. And you're just the same.”

“If it hadn't been for my father, many of our pack would have died.”

“At least there would have been honour in their death. Better dead than to surrender to the humans.”

“Is that why you killed him?” I screamed at her. “Killed the man who had shown you nothing but kindness?”

“I didn't kill him.” She hesitated, and for a moment I thought she might show some sign of remorse, but instead she said, “But I'm glad he's dead.”

I'm not sure I'd ever hated anyone more than I hated her at that moment. She'd accused my father of betrayal, but she was the one who'd betrayed her friend. She was the one who'd betrayed the man who had shown her only love.

“Tell me who killed him, Layla. You owe me that much.”

“I don't owe you a thing. You ask too many questions.”

“Craven will find me,” I said. “And when he does I'll avenge my father.”

“Craven?” She laughed. “You'd better forget about him. He's already forgotten you.”

“He's my fated mate. He won't stop searching until he finds me.”

“Listen to me, you stupid bitch.” Layla shouted. “Craven isn't looking for you. He thinks you're dead.”

“I don't believe you.”

“I should know. I was the one who
comforted
him after he'd been told the bad news.” She sneered.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know what you see in him. He's not such a great fuck. I've had better.”

I launched myself at her with such force that the whiplash of the chain pulled me onto my backside.

“I can still taste his cock.” Layla ran her tongue along her top lip.

“You're lying.”

“Craven isn't looking for you. No one is looking for you. As far as the outside world is concerned, you're dead.”

She pushed the tray along the floor. “Eat your food.”

I got back to my feet and gave the tray a kick—spilling the contents all over the floor.

 

*********

 

I kept track of the days by scoring a small nick into the back of the toilet door. By my calculations, I'd been there for almost six weeks. Six weeks, and I still had no answers.

There was no pattern. Some days I'd receive two food visits. Other days there would be only one. Some days there would be none. Twice a week, on average, I'd be given a change of clothes and a fresh towel. Most days it was Layla who came; occasionally it would be the young male shifter. I took every opportunity to let Layla know exactly what I felt about her. Occasionally, I pushed it too far and ended up without food. With the young male it was different. He rarely spoke. I didn't even know his name.

 

I was fast asleep when I heard the footsteps outside. It was dark, and although I'd no means of knowing the precise time, my body clock sensed it was the early hours of the morning. Neither Layla nor the young male had visited at this time of day before. The footsteps were much louder than usual, and it seemed as though there might be more than one person. The full moon illuminated the room, so I didn't feel the need to switch on the light. Could it be humans out camping? Maybe they'd stumbled across the cabin. Why would they be wandering around at this time of night? The footsteps came closer until I sensed they were outside the door. Should I cry out for help?

The key turned in the lock, and the three men walked into the room. They stood just inside the doorway, their faces hidden in the shadows.

“Who's there?” I sat up in bed.

The tallest of the three stepped forward so his face was illuminated by the moonlight. I recognised him immediately.

“You killed my father!” I screamed at him, as I leapt off the bed.

The vampire stood his ground as I charged across the room—my arms extended. The chain cracked as it reached its full extent. My hands were only inches from his throat.

“Come closer, you fucking coward!” I yelled.

“Believe me.” The vampire grinned. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

“Then do it. I'll tear your fucking throat out.”

He remained unmoved by my threats. “I can still taste your father's blood.” He ran a finger along his bottom lip. “I'm sure yours will be even sweeter.”

I strained every sinew as I tried to reach him. At one point the tip of my middle finger brushed against his neck. I wasn't scared. At least before I died, I'd have the chance to inflict some injuries on the man who'd killed my father.

“What are you waiting for?” I screamed.

“You have spirit,” the vampire said. “I like that.”

“Fuck you!”

“How do you like your accommodation?”

“Why am I here? What do you want with me? Where's Craven?”

“Craven? Don't you know? I assumed they'd have told you already.”

“No one has told me anything. Where is he?”

“He's dead of course.”

“I don't believe you.”

“He came looking for you. Looking for his fated mate.” The vampire's smile sent a chill down my spine.

“Now I know you're lying. You'd be no match for Craven.”

“How little you know. Craven and your father were easy kills.”

“You're a liar. When Craven finds you, he'll—”

“Enough! The sooner you accept that no one is going to come looking for you, the better things will be. I may visit you occasionally, and when the time comes, I'll kill you.”

“Come on, coward! Why not do it now?” It took all of my willpower not to shift. My inner-wolf was desperate to be set loose on him, but I couldn't. Not until I'd found a way to get free of the chain.

He laughed, and then the three of them filed out of the door.

“Coward!” I called after him. “You're a fucking coward.”

BOOK: The Lost Years
4.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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