Bitten Page 12

  "Truthfully, I don't know who bit me, but I do know that it wasn't Bastian. It happened over five years ago when he and the others were still in school. Whoever did bite me... he didn't stick around like Bastian did for you."

  For a moment, Katherine forgot that she wasn't supposed to believe and was horrified. "Five years ago?" she asked faintly. "You couldn't have been more than what? Fourteen?"

  "Thirteen," he correctly gently. The man's brown eyes met her green ones squarely. "I know it's hard to feel anything but anger and grief in your situation, but Bastian – he really did do the right thing by taking you. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you have all of us in your corner. Especially Bastian. I didn't have anybody."

  For the briefest of moments, Katherine considered pointing out that she'd overheard them talking last night – that she knew they didn't want her. But something – tact, or maybe empathy for the man in front of her – made her keep it to herself. Instead, when she opened her mouth, an apology spilled out. “I’m sorry.”

  Caleb waved the words off. "What happened to me wasn’t your fault. I've learned to accept it."

  Katherine was suddenly struck by the absurdity of what they were discussing. "Accept being a werewolf?"

  Caleb's half-smile faltered. "I didn't believe it either until I changed."

  "Into a werewolf?" Katherine repeated. Her tone made her skepticism obvious.

  "Yes," he insisted. His eyes begged her to believe him. "I had no one to help me through it. I don't want to scare you, but it was terrible. I was so frightened – terribly confused and in so much pain – I had no control over myself. I thought I was going mad and,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “Katherine, I almost killed someone."

  The intensity of Caleb's words resonated within Katherine. The unassuming man in front of her – boy, really, he was only two years older than her – had almost killed somebody?

  Caleb must have mistaken her shock for fear because he looked away from her in shame. She didn't know what to say to comfort him so she just let the man keep talking.

  "Word of the attack got out and werewolf hunters showed up."

  Katherine tensed, quickly finding her voice. “Stop,” she demanded, knowing the moment he mentioned hunters that his story was too similar to hers. It would be too agonizing to hear.

  Caleb startled at the sound of her voice, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there as he relived his memories. He nodded solemnly, however, and obeyed her order. He quickly ended his story, only adding that he’d been rescued from the hunters by someone from the colony – he didn’t say who – and that was how he’d met Bastian and the others.

  Katherine couldn’t help but notice the irony – whereas Caleb had considered himself rescued, she felt as if she’d been kidnapped.

  Kidnapped.

  Katherine nearly choked on the air she was breathing. What was she doing?

  She glanced at the clock on the nightstand – it was tantalizing close to the SUV's keys. The time – 9:37 – glared back at her. Why was she wasting precise time talking when she could have left – escaped – by now? The others could be back any minute!

  Panic caused something in her chest to tighten and before Katherine could even really think about what she was doing, she was flinging the bed sheets off her body. She stood and began tugging frantic fingers through her long, wavy hair, trying futilely to make the knotted mess lay straight.

  Caleb stood with her, looking confused by her sudden actions and more than a little nervous. "Are you okay, Katherine?"

  "I'm hungry," she blurted. It was the first excuse she could think of to get Caleb to agree to leave the motel room. And he'd have to leave – at least for a minute or two – for her half-cocked plan to have a chance of working.

  The man's eyebrows shot up. "You are?"

  His astonishment was downright comical.

  "Yeah, I thought we could join Markus and Zane for some breakfast."

  The blonde's eyebrows rose even higher – almost disappearing past his hairline. "You want to go eat with Markus and Zane?"

  "Yes," she snapped, glancing back at the clock. 9:41.

  Caleb seemed to recover from his surprise. He subtly – though not subtly enough for Katherine not to notice – put himself between her and the exit. "Bastian ordered that we stay here," he reminded her – as if she needed reminding. "Maybe we can order some food?"

  "Breakfast food?" Katherine questioned incredulously. "I doubt anyone delivers eggs."

  Caleb grimaced. "Can't we just wait until Bastian and Sophie get back? They should be here soon. You could even change clothes and-"

  "But I'm hungry now," Katherine immediately objected. She gazed at Caleb imploringly. "Please."

  "I don't think-"

  "Markus and Zane left. Why can't we?"

  "Yes, but Bastian-"

  "Bastian," Katherine stressed, "will be so pleased that I'm eating that he won't even care that we left."

  The man frowned, but seemed to be considering her argument. "Maybe," he conceded.

  Katherine could sense victory and wasn't above begging. "Please,” she repeated.

  Caleb looked at her for a long moment before sighing. "Okay," he resigned, "I know Zane said something about a cafe a few blocks from here. I think that's where he and Markus were going. We could meet them there?"

  "Sounds great," Katherine immediately agreed despite having no intention of walking any further than the parking lot. "Just let me use the bathroom quickly. Meet me outside?"

  Katherine prayed this would work.

  But Caleb looked reluctant. “Bastian said not to let you out of my sight."

  Bastian. Bastian. Bastian. Katherine was so sick of hearing about him and what he wanted. She crossed her arms, hoping she looked more nervy than nervous. "I assure you that I don't need any help in the bathroom. A little privacy please?"

  Caleb flushed. "I'll wait outside."

  Yes.

  Katherine wasted no time scurrying to the bathroom. Once she locked herself in, however, she did little more than nervously trail her fingers through her hair, waiting to hear the sound of the motel room’s front door closing. It was her signal that Caleb had, indeed, left.

  When she heard the squeaky hinges, she only waited a heartbeat before hurrying out of the bathroom. She quickly made her way to her backpack – she’d discovered yesterday that Bastian had grabbed it from her car when he’d snatched her – and pulled out her wallet. The leather folds contained a few bills, but more importantly, a silver Visa credit card. To be used only in emergencies, as per her father’s instructions.

  If this didn't qualify as an emergency then Katherine didn't know what did.

  She shoved the wallet deep into one of the pockets of her overly large sweat pants, strode across the room to the nightstand, brazenly grabbed the keys to the BMW, and shoved them into the same pocket. Then, talking a deep, calming breath, she walked across the room, opened the door, and peeked outside.

  So far, so good.

  Except that Caleb was leaning against the SUV.

  Damnit.

  She'd have to get him away from it.

  The blonde man smiled as she closed the door behind her, assuring Katherine that he couldn’t sense that anything was amiss.

  “You can do this,” she reminded herself under her breath before striding up to Caleb as confidently as she could manage. She walked halfway across the parking lot with him before she began her quickly improvised act.

  She stopped and started patting her pant pockets anxiously. "Caleb, I forgot my wallet!"

  The man’s brow wrinkled in bewilderment. He laid a concerned hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Bastian would never expect you to pay for anything."

  "I know," Katherine quickly agreed, hoping she sounded appropriately distressed, "but I wanted to pay for breakfast. It – It'll make me feel less helpless."

  Katherine could see Caleb's eyes soften in sympathy and for a second, shame assaulted her. But li
ke she did with so many others feelings, she pushed the uncomfortable emotion away.

  "I’ll go get it for you," Caleb offered. Just as she knew he would.

  Katherine nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  She waited until he disappeared back into the room before making a mad dash towards the SUV. She fished the keys out of her pocket and quickly pressed the unlock button. She hoisted herself up, immediately relocking the doors behind her. Then she took half a minute – though to her frenzied mind it seemed closer to ten – to adjust the seat so that her petite feet could at least touch the massive pedals.

  She had just shoved the key into the ignition and revved the engine to life when Caleb stepped out of the motel room – confusion etched onto his face. He obviously hadn’t been able to find her wallet, but how could he? It had been in her pocket.

  Katherine met his eyes from her seat behind the vehicle’s protective windshield. For a second, he didn’t seem to register what was happening. Then she watched as panic warped his face. He made a move towards the BMW but before he could reach the car, she jerked it into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot.

  It wasn't until she had maneuvered out of the small Canadian town – Linburg, it was called – that she could feel her heart’s rapid pace begin to slow.

  But she didn’t feel as relieved as she thought she would have to be out of the pack’s company.

  In fact, she felt positively heavy with guilt. She felt terrible – like she’d betrayed the only person who had been unwaveringly kind to her throughout this entire, horrid ordeal. Would Bastian blame Caleb for letting her escape? Would he punish the man for losing his hostage?

  Had she truly been a hostage in the first place?

  They'd never hurt her.

  ...

  What in the hell was she thinking?

  Of course she had been a hostage! Who cared about Bastian? Or Caleb? Or what the former would do to the latter when he discovered she'd gotten away? She shouldn't be picturing Caleb or Bastian or – oh Jeez, Markus – in her head. She should be thinking about her sister – Samantha – and how happy she'd be to see that Katherine was okay. How they'd hug and cry and... talk about mom and dad.

  Katherine could feel the moisture begin gathering in her eyes, but she stubbornly rubbed out the tears before they had a chance to fall.

  She spent the next hour trying – and failing – to replace the picture she had in her head of Bastian's face with Samantha's. When nothing she tried worked, she spent the remainder of the trip trying not to think at all.

  It was, perhaps, the longest twelve hours of her life.

  By the time she finally reached Duluth, it had long since turned dark. Her hands were shaking with exhaustion as she crookedly parked in her sister’s driveway – it was curiously empty.

  Katherine only took a moment to stare up at the dark house before stumbling out of the vehicle and up the front steps. It was raining, but she cared very little about how quickly her clothes became soaked or how wet strands of her hair immediately began clinging to her face and neck.

  She pounded on the door. "Samantha!"

  The yell came out hoarser than she would have liked.

  "Samantha!" she tried again, pounding harder.

  No lights came on in the windows. Silence – the too quiet kind that sent chills through her body – was the only response to her hollering.

  "Sam!" she cried, her fists growing more desperate as they hit the wooden door. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

  "Sam!" Thwack.

  "Sam!" Thwack. Thwack.

  "Sa-am!" She choked half-way through her sister's name, something that felt a lot like panic restricting her lungs.

  "Sam!" she tried once more time before finally grabbing the door's brass knob and tugging. It was locked. She twisted and shook the thing, but the door wouldn't budge.

  But she wasn't ready to give up – wasn't ready to accept that Samantha wasn't... that she wasn't home.

  Katherine ripped the welcome mat off the steps, smashed the flower pot by the door and dug through the soil that stained the cement. She was trying desperately to find a spare key – praying that Samantha kept one somewhere.

  And then lights came on.

  But not the ones Katherine wanted to see.

  It was the neighbor's bright lights that illuminated her form from across the yard. She froze as a man – she'd guess by his white hair that he was at least in his sixties – from next door stepped out onto his porch. He was peering at her suspiciously. "Hi there," he shouted over the pitter patter of the rain.

  Though the words were friendly, Katherine knew the man must have thought she was insane. She managed to swallow the lump in her throat. "Hi," she croaked back.

  "If you're here looking for Chad or Samantha, they aren't home."

  Katherine forced her breathing to remain even. She wouldn’t allow her panicky thoughts to overtake her common sense.

  "Any idea where I can find them?" She could only hope she didn't sound as desperate – or look as crazed – as she thought she did.

  "Why, didn't you hear?" The man sounded incredulous. "They left for Iowa days ago – won't be back 'til next week at the earliest. Poor Samantha – word is that there was a home invasion at her parents' house down in Middletown. Her sister's missing."

  …Katherine had never felt like a bigger fool.

  Of course. Of course Samantha wouldn't be here. Why would she be? It was only logical that she would be in Middletown – picking up the ruins of the house, trying to find Katherine, planning their parents' burial...

  Katherine’s breath hitched. "Oh," she murmured, but she doubted that the hushed word of realization reached the man’s ears. He was still looking at her – openly concerned.

  "Can I help you with anything else?"

  Katherine did her best to regain her bearings. She shook her head. "No. No, I was, uh, I was just leaving."

  She walked down the steps and numbly made her way back to the SUV, feeling the man's curious eyes on her until she was back behind the wheel of the vehicle.

  She watched as he disappeared back into his house and the porch lights were turned back off.

  But she couldn't bring herself to start the SUV.

  She sat there, her oversized shirt drenched and sticking to her body, staring up at her sister’s home.

  How could she have been so stupid?

  She wanted nothing more than to collapse in frustrated tears, but she wouldn't allow herself the luxury. Instead of breaking down, she began assuring herself that Middletown wasn’t that far from Duluth – that she could make it there in a day or two. She had her credit card, after all. She could afford as much gasoline as she need.

  But none of her reassurances distracted her from the fact that she couldn’t keep driving. Not tonight.

  Her body ached with fatigue and her head was throbbing. Not to mention that she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking – no longer from exhaustion, but from the cold. Digging for that nonexistent spare key seemed nothing short of idiotic now. She was in no condition to drive.

  So instead of throwing the car in reverse and beginning the journey back to Middletown, Katherine tucked her hands under her armpits, trying to warm the freezing extremities. And somehow, despite the chill, managed to drift off, curled up in the front seat of the SUV.

  Her wolf.

  She hadn't realized she had missed him until now that he’d returned. As always, he was staring at her – his deep azure eyes ridding her mind of all other thoughts. In his presence, they were inconsequential.

  Today his eyes were sad – intense as ever, but missing a certain glint that had been present before.

  And for the first time ever Katherine reached out to touch him. She kneeled and placed a bold hand on his head, petting the ferocious animal's fur.

  "Hey," she whispered, "it’ll be okay."

  In response, the wolf pressed his snout into her hands, obviously enjoying the soft touch. But his eyes remained distr
aught. "What's wrong?" she murmured absentmindedly.

  "Katherine."

  Her heart jolted and she jumped away from the wolf. What the-?

  "Katherine."

  But the wolf's jaws weren't moving.

  Of course they weren't moving! It was a wolf.

  "Katherine."

  She snapped her eyes open.

  Only to once again meet the blue eyes of her wolf. But they were in a different face – a human face.

  Bastian.

  He was standing outside of the open car door, looking at her with a grim expression. It was still raining and his shirt was drenched, his wet hair plastered to his forehead.

  It took Katherine a few moments to realize that she was no longer dreaming. That she was still sitting in the SUV in front of her sister’s house, instead of on her way to Middletown. That she’d been caught.

  But instead of feeling upset, or even angry, she only felt sick. She – she felt horrible.

  Her heavy head was pounding and it was all she could do to lift it up and look at the man. And there was a gigantic pressure on her chest trying to prevent her from breathing.

  Katherine was half-delirious when she opened her mouth and asked Bastian, “Are you mad?”

  He must have known she was unwell because he didn't immediately begin berating her – yelling at her for running from him. Instead, he grabbed her gently by the waist and cradled her body to his chest as he walked around the vehicle to deposit her into the passenger seat. His chest was warm and Katherine absentmindedly clutched his soaked shirt with her fists as he moved her. She was much too exhausted – much too sick – to protest being carried.

  She allowed her eyes to drift shut and as sleep pulled her back into oblivion, she swore she could feel the faintest press of lips to her forehead and a strong voice whisper, "I'm not mad."

  CHAPTER TEN

  Three days passed before Katherine woke from her fever induced slumber. In her state, however, it felt as if mere hours had gone by – hours she spent curled around her dream wolf, his fur covered body pressed against her own frail form as it was wracked by violent shivers.