“There’s not much more to it. When I regained consciousness, I checked on him and then ran. It’s the beginning that we need to focus on. I know how to get to where we’re going.”
“How?” I interjected.
“Because I let them catch me and take me to their camp. I was sent to kill them,” she whispered. “All of them. And I didn’t finish the job.”
I focused on the road as she spoke. My anger surged with her story. Damn York. If he hadn’t had her memories tampered with, then she would’ve killed those guys. They wouldn’t have had a chance to kidnap him. We wouldn’t be trying to rescue him. My heart wouldn’t have nearly fucking stopped when I watched her fall over while her eyes went all cloudy and shit. That was just the smaller scale stuff. On the bigger side of the repercussions, there was one main issue. If those guys had been killed five years ago, then that rogue-inducing drug might not have been as successful. That could’ve saved hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. I knew he was a selfish bastard, but he always had his reasons. Maybe he thought it wouldn’t get that far, or maybe he was trying to protect her before he really knew her. I’d fought against her and watched her fight, though. I knew she didn’t need to be protected. If I had to pick anyone to protect me, I’d pick her before I picked any of the males in this van.
We reached our destination before any of us could think of something to say to her. She didn’t seem like she was looking for comfort, but instead needed an outlet for her anger. The address Franklin gave us was not what any of us expected. I turned the van to the right by a large sign with the street numbers 5683 labeled on it. We followed a long dirt road until we came to a minuscule gravel parking area. When I parked, we sat and viewed the scenery around us before we started opening any doors. The heavily wooded lot was home to all manner of wildlife. My wolf inched to the surface of my skin, thrilled by the prospect of a bountiful hunt.
Nestled in the trees in front of us was an enormous treehouse. The stairs began on the foliage-covered ground and led up to a platform which connected to a bridge suspended above a natural sandstone formation. The miniature bridge was only wide enough for one person to walk across it at a time. I contemplated the safety of it versus climbing a tree to get to the wraparound deck that was attached to the house. The trees grew through cut out places in the deck flooring and appeared to also grow through the house itself. This was the luxury side of camping, I guess.
We filed out of the van and started grabbing our bags. Butterflies flew around Sloane’s head the moment her boots touched the ground. She gazed at them for several seconds in blissful tranquility as they fluttered themselves down to chest height. She snapped the fingers of her left hand and those massive hellhounds-in-disguise slammed their paws into the gravel patch she was standing on. They surrounded her in a protective formation, covering all angles as they surveyed the land for any threats. With three clicks of her tongue, their gigantic bodies thundered through the woods in different directions to secure the perimeter around our temporary haven. And run all the wildlife off.
We observed Sloane while she climbed the stairs, collectively holding our breath as she glided across the rickety bridge to the main deck around the house. She looked strange with her bright pink backpack strapped to her back and the small matching duffle swaying in her delicate hand. I wasted no more time assessing her as I bounded up the steps and crossed the bridge in large strides. The sooner I reached the other side, the quicker I could get off this death trap. We were only here to drop off the van and our bags before we started the search for York. Once inside, I didn’t even admire the rustic decor as I found the kitchen table and set my bag of weapons on the top. I dropped my other bag to the floor and kicked it aside.
Within the bag that held my attention was brand new tactical gear. Franklin vehemently reassured me this morning that it would remain on my body between shifts. I still didn’t believe him. I set the clothing and boots to the side and continued looking through the bag. He explained all of the weapons to me last night before we went to sleep and I’d been itching to try this stuff out. Four magic-infused handguns were tucked neatly in pairs inside rough plastic cases. They didn’t use bullets, and they never ran out of their ammo. He’d included a handful of paper thin knives as well. They were so sharp I could probably slice through the tree that the kitchen table was built around.
The last thing in the bag was a five inch long black box that looked like it was made for jewelry. It wasn’t anything Franklin and I had talked about last night. It was new. Inside the box was a custom-made switchblade. The obsidian blade and bleached bone handle matched the daggers Sloane used yesterday. Attached to the lid of the box was a short note in frilly handwriting.
Briggs,
This switchblade will never miss a target and always returns to its owner. Use it with care. Enjoy it often.
-Sloane
This is the most thoughtful fucking gift anyone had ever given me. I tucked everything back in the bag and made my way into the first bedroom I found to change. Behind the closed door, Sloane stood with one leg propped on the dresser. The other was firmly planted on the floor as she checked the knife hidden within the rubber sole of her left boot. I started to leave but changed my mind. She had already seen me naked, so what was the harm in sharing the space to change clothes? I set my stuff on the bed and pulled my shirt over my head while she watched me with a coy expression.
“How often do you pull a knife out of the toe of your boot?” It seemed like an odd place for a weapon, but with her nothing was ever as it seemed. See? I was learning.
“I don’t take it out. There’s a sort of button inside my shoe that I press with my toe, and out pops the knife. It adds a fun effect to kicking.” She smiled at me. “Want to see?” She didn’t wait for my reply. She lifted her foot out towards me and the knife slid out slowly with her movement. “If I move faster, the knife appears quicker. It’s a nifty little trick designed by a friend of mine in Stars.” The female got excited about weapons. Now I knew to skip the flowers if she ever got mad at me.
“Good to know,” I replied, but it was more to myself. I took off my pants and started putting on the clothing from my bag. The tactical gear was breathable and tight, but fit me like a second skin. The bedroom was too small to shift in, so I’d have to wait. I was eager to get outside and test the durability. Franklin had mentioned that I wouldn’t lose my weapons as long as they were attached to the fabric, not in my hand. The pants had thin pockets designed for the knives and wrapped up in the shirt were holsters for the guns. One set sat under each arm and the other set sat at each hip. Sloane had matching holsters under her arms and her daggers tucked against her lower back. Connected to her waist was a series of shiny chains hanging at different lengths down the front of her skirt. Each chain had an array of two-inch knives dangling from them. Her shirt read psycho, and to be honest, the look of determined fury on her face said she’d be every bit of that description later.
Everyone was ready to go when we stepped into the living room. We checked each other out, admiring the selection of weapons we carried, before maneuvering our way through the treehouse and across that unstable fucking bridge. When Sloane reached the bottom of the stairs, she loosed a high pitch whistle, and I heard the hounds running towards us. While we all waited, I shifted to my fur and back again, noticing that what Franklin had said was true. All clothing and weapons were still in place. That’s fucking awesome.