Wolfen (31 page)

“Shut up!” Dare snapped. “Had just about enough of that
mouth of yours.”

Desiree curled her fingers to punch him, but he yanked on
her arm in that same instant and her punch flew wide, grazing his cheek.

Incensed, he grabbed her face, fingers digging hard into her
jaw, and her bruised cheek screamed a chorus of agony. She blinked away tears
of pain. Dare was so close, she could see the little veins in his eyes. “Do
that again, and I’ll…” He grasped for some threat that might intimidate her,
but he had nothing, and that pissed him off even more. With a hard shove, he
sent her sprawling onto the ground next to one of the deeper pools.

Dare dragged her up by the back of her shirt, flipped her
over, and held her down. “Think you can fuck with me? I’ll show you, fucking
bitch.” He grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head.

Desiree screamed. “
Get off me!
”

Dare grinned. “That’s it, bitch, fight me. Scream your
stupid little head off.” He licked her cheek, and at her ear, added, “Nobody’s
coming. Nobody
cares
.” When he pulled back, he had a look she rarely
saw, one that said he had this in the bag. He’d set this up and rigged the game
so there was no possible chance he couldn’t lose. It was the only way he could
ever win. Bone-thin, one-legged Desiree, and he still had to cheat to get the
better of her. “You’re
my
bitch now.”

Desiree spat at him.
Not me, asshole. Not today, of all
days.

Dare’s expression turned murderous and he slapped her hard
across her bruised cheek, leaving her dazed. As her head lolled, he flipped her
onto her front. Desiree blinked slowly in the dark, dreamlike mist settling in
around her. She felt utterly disconnected from her body, floating on a haze of
confusion. Her hands were in the water. He was so damned sure of himself, he’d
left them free.

Dare groaned as he pulled her pants down and rearranged
himself against her.

Nobody’s coming… Nobody cares…

Tears blurred her vision.

Dare braced a hand on the center of her spine, using his
knees to force her legs apart. Cold fear gripped her. She was pinned with Dare’s
weight smothering the breath out of her. She couldn’t scream.

“Let me see your face, bitch.” Breathing hard, he grabbed
her chin and twisted it around so she looked at him. “I want to see your eyes
when I fuck you.”

Desiree’s fingers curled around a rock, and it came loose in
her grip. With his face a fraction of an inch from her, she swung as hard as
she could.

“
Ow!
” Dare groped for the rock, but Desiree flailed
sideways to keep it away, and he lost his balance, falling shoulder-deep into
the pool, smothering her beneath him. She couldn’t move an inch until Dare
pushed himself up again, but the moment she had that inch, she took it. Desiree
twisted around for better leverage and struck again—a glancing blow.
Damn
it!

Dare snarled, and slammed her face down hard against rock,
but his hold was slippery and his fingers dipped into her mouth.

Desiree bit.

He hollered and punched her in the side to dislodge her. She
absorbed the pain the way she always did with Klaus and bit down harder,
twisting for good measure. A knuckle popped, and Dare screamed, rolling off of
her.

High on fear and a massive rush of adrenaline, Desiree
flipped over and swung again. He blocked with his forearm, shoved her aside,
and followed through with a backhand, but he used his injured hand, and it hurt
him more than it did her. “
You goddamn fucking cuntbag whore!
”

Desiree had precious seconds to right herself before Dare
came at her again, just enough time for a wild, desperate swing.

She connected. The rock’s sharp edge struck his temple and
laid him out in a daze. Not enough. He was still conscious, already reaching
for her. Desiree clutched the rock, two-handed, and put all her meager weight
behind it, coming down on his head with every ounce of her terror and wrath,
again and again.

She kept hitting, unable to stop, until his arms dropped
limp by his sides and he stilled. His eyelids lowered in a slow blink and
opened half-mast, then closed again and stayed closed.

Desiree scrambled back. “Oh my God…” She forced her fingers
to unclench from around the rock. Blood was everywhere; she felt it on her
face, and panicked. Diving for the pool, she scrubbed her hands, her face,
shaking like a leaf and holding her wheezy breaths so she could hear if the
cavalry came.

The night was quiet. No guards on patrol; all Havenites
tucked safely in their beds.

No one is coming. No one cares.

Desiree moaned, quickly tugging her pants back on with all
the coordination of a meth addict. Only then did she look at Dare. He hadn’t
woken up yet. Wiping her nose, she crawled over and steeled herself to check
his pulse. Weak, but steady. Still alive.

What now?

She couldn’t drag him out; couldn’t call for help—she’d have
to admit she’d almost killed him. No one would care it’d been in self-defense;
they’d crucify her for almost murdering one of their precious few protectors.

Desiree stared down at him, lightheaded with hopelessness.
He was right. She was alone here, completely on her own, only worth keeping so
long as she was useful to Klaus. In the morning, when her and Arik’s little
prank with the beaker came to light, when they discovered what had happened to
Dare, she’d be done for.
I have no one to fight for me.

I am alone.

Not true.
She had herself.

Desiree gritted her teeth, squared her shoulders, and
focused on that lifeline.
I have myself. I am the daughter of
Klaus-fucking-Koch. I am your better in every way. You think you can fuck with
me
?
You think I’ll bend over for any of you? Think again.

Desiree was done being anyone’s bitch.

“Nobody cares?” she said. “Fine.” Swallowing back her
nausea, she tucked Dare’s limp cock back into his pants, then checked his hand.
She hadn’t broken skin. He’d be bruised, but the bite marks would fade.
“Nobody’s coming? Good. That means nobody’s going to find you for hours.” She
checked the head wound still oozing blood, and whispered, “I hope you never
wake up.”

She shoved to her feet and tottered toward the mouth of the
cave and her crutch. Then, keeping to the shadows, she headed for her lab. That
was her safest bet. If they found her all the way over there, Desiree could say
she’d been working late. She did it often enough for the lie to be believable.

Yes. She’d say Dare had left on break, and she had no idea
what happened to him. No one else had been in or anywhere near the baths; Dare
had made sure of that. He could just as easily have tripped and fallen, and as
the closest thing to a physician they had, Desiree could confirm that. They’d
believe her, as long as she kept calm.

Yes. Good plan.

Except, by the time she’d tuned back to the present, she
realized her feet hadn’t taken her to the bastion of her lab, but on a path of
frantic escape.

She was in the tunnels.

“To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning
in the suffering.”

Fuck you, Nietzsche.

~

There were a few cups of cold water left. Aiden gulped them
down in three huge swallows. By the time he’d set the bucket aside again, his
arms were shaking with strain. Full night had fallen out there, and he was
still trying to gather enough strength to stand. None doing. He was stuck with
his back to the metal door, pants around his knees. Even if he could lift his
hips enough to pull them up, any contact with his groin was sheer agony.

But Aiden’s body
was
healing. Cells regenerated, one
by one, slow as lava flow, and just as painful. Every so often, his muscles
spasmed like a full-body cramp, making him see stars and tearing newly
regenerated ligaments right back up again. Two steps forward, one step back.
Repeat.

Ice. He needed ice. Lots of it. The cool water and cloth
were sad substitutes.

Nice gesture, though. If not for, you know, all the torture
and shit.

The bitch had shot him up with convert venom. He hadn’t even
known that was possible. People who got close to that stuff didn’t usually live
long enough to tell their friends about it, let alone extract and weaponize it.
But damn, if she hadn’t managed. Kudos. No, really. That Klaus had to be one
proud poppa bear.

Aiden shook both of them from his mind, closed his eyes, and
tried to meditate. It wasn’t his thing. His brand of therapy consisted more of
busting heads together, not sitting quietly and breathing. He tended to avoid
places of deep thought, although he could appreciate a tight ass in a pair of
yoga pants just as much as the next guy.

Someone once said imagination, the ability to picture what
was not, to dream up fantastic new ideas, concepts, even worlds, was the
distinguishing characteristic of humanity as a species. Imagination made people
strive for that thing just out of reach.

Aiden scoffed. Humans, at their best were darker, more
savage, self-serving, and sadistic than any other species. Imagination was only
a tool, an extension of what was already there. You couldn’t make light from
darkness, and that thing just out of reach was more often than not power,
money, and control; a misguided survival instinct compelling humans to always
fight for the top, to be better, stronger,
more
than anyone else.

The trouble was, they didn’t do it by building themselves
up; they did it by breaking others down. The most amazing inventions throughout
human history, no matter how well intentioned, had always been warped into
something terrible, because at their core, humans themselves were terrible.
Evil begot evil. Darkness begot darkness.

Homo sapiens evolved to dominate a fantastically fertile,
beautiful world. They destroyed it. Their inventions could have opened the
horizons for miracles. They used them for war instead.

They created Wolfen. And somewhere in the genetic blend of
perfections, they sowed the seeds for converts. Or perhaps it was the other way
around. Maybe converts had been the goal all along, and Wolfen were the
unintended byproduct. The antidote to an engineered biochemical weapon of mass
destruction.

And the world turned darker still.

Aiden sighed, and rubbed his eyes with a shaky hand. This
was exactly why he hated meditation. Nothing good ever came out of deep
thinking. He should have been coming up with an escape plan instead.

Step one: go MacGyver on this shithole and manufacture an
explosive device out of gum wrappers and a urine-soaked piece of cloth.

Step two: kill Klaus and his daughter.

Step three: get past a convert-infested forest.

Step four: hike a few hundred miles north to Montana.

Now all he needed was a handful of gum wrappers and a
utility knife.

Desiree’s footsteps were quiet this time, hesitant, but her
heartbeat hammered like a drum. As she slunk along the wall, the vibrations
translated over to his door, dinging in his ear. Half of him wanted to get up
and tear the door off of its hinges to get at her throat. But he was too damned
tired to muster up the righteous wrath he was fully entitled to. He could barely
make it past the level of mild annoyance that she’d disrupted his inner Zen.

Instead of poisoning the air with curses and dire threats,
all he managed was a bitter, “What do you want?” and he barely grated that much
through a raw throat.

“You’re talking.”

“Yeah. Proves my kind capable of intelligent speech.
Whoop-dee-doo.”

She came closer. “No, I mean… I thought you’d be out until
morning, at least.”

Aiden’s smile was more of a sneer. “Surprise.”

“H-how do you feel?”

“Like I’ve had the life sucked out of me through my dick.
It’s not as pleasant as the commercials would have you believe.”

She giggled, a sound bordering on hysteria that ended in a
hiccup. “You’re funny.”

“It’s one of my finer qualities,” he said with a frown. “Why
do I smell blood?” Not Wolfen blood or animal blood, either. Definitely human.

“I started menstruating.”

Liar.

Aiden twisted to take a gander through the keyhole. It hurt
like a son of a bitch, and he couldn’t hold this position longer than a few
seconds, but it was enough. She stood by the wall, hands flat against the stone
for balance, head turned to watch the tunnels as if she expected monsters to
pour in at any second. The length of her delicate neck was exposed, presented
on a silver platter. Just one bite. He could take his time; sink his teeth into
her flesh, feel her squirm, taste her blood as it ran down his throat, before
he jerked his head and broke her spinal column. It wouldn’t kill her, just
paralyze her. Aiden didn’t want her dead; he wanted to make her feel everything
she’d done to him. And then some.

Momentarily lost in his twisted fantasy, he didn’t notice
the subtle discrepancy right away.

Her demeanor was off; she wasn’t here to study the effects
of the venom or to record his recovery. Her posture, her eyes, her subtle hand
tremors told Aiden she was asking about his state on reflex. Desiree’s mind was
elsewhere. He inhaled deeply for more clues.

She smelled of blood, and fear, and…something mineral.

“Hey, uh, do you mind if I stay here for a bit?” she asked,
slinking even closer.

“Are you hiding?” With the monster who had every reason to
tear her limb from limb, who had, in fact, sworn to do just that a few hours
ago?

“Of course not. Just…wanted a little peace and quiet.”

Aiden tossed his head back, and howled. Not his best
performance, by far. Too raw, a sound of pain, more than aggression, but it was
just loud enough to do the trick.

“Stop it!”

He howled again.

Desiree crossed the tunnel, thumped her hands on his door.
Four inches away, and he couldn’t fucking touch her. Christ, he wanted to so
badly, his claws dug into the stone on either side of his hips as he imagined
ripping her skin from her bones.

“Shh! Quiet!”

And encore. The more desperate she sounded, the louder he got,
savagely enjoying her fear like fine wine, until his howls echoed throughout
the tunnel. Just to spite her. A small revenge; nowhere near enough to make up
for what she’d done, but it was a start.

“Oh God, stop. Please!”

His final howl faded at the sound of her crying, and his
vintage wine turned foul, the scent of her fear leaving an ugly, bitter taste
at the back of his throat. She wasn’t playing. She was terrified. And not of
him.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

The same old tired fucking litany, sliding lower and lower
as she sank down outside of his cell until her mouth was about level with his
ear.

Aiden’s jaw clenched, teeth cracking. He waited for her to
weep herself out. Pathetic, goddamned woman-child, incapable of owning up to
her actions. It disgusted him, listening to her fall apart. As if it made a
fucking difference now. As if an apology could make everything better.

“I didn’t want to… He would have killed me. You don’t know—”

“I know one thing,” Aiden said softly. He heard her sniffle,
slide her forehead higher, and then turn sideways to press her ear to the door,
breath huffing against the metal. “I will feel your bones break in my hands.
I’ll sink my claws into you, and make a wreath out of your intestines. You will
see your own beating heart before you die, and you will feel every torture you
can possibly imagine, and more.”

“I did what I had to.”

“No, you did what you were told. And there will be a
reckoning, I promise you that.”

“What if I could get you out of here?”

He elbowed the door—hard.
Bang.

“I mean it! I know where the keys are—”

Bang.

“I have an ally, we could get you free and—”

Bang!

“Please! I—”

BANG!… BANG!… BANG!… BANG!

By the time the last toll quieted, she was gone.