Otherworld 02 - Stolen (27 page)

"Could someone please tell me why Ms. Bauer is next door?" I asked.

They looked at each other, as if debating whether to answer. Then one said, "Doctor Matasumi felt it was necessary to confine her. For security reasons."

No shit. "I certainly understand that. But could you tell me why she's in that particular room? There's a hole in the wall joining our cells."

"I believe they are aware of that."

"They?" I asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

"Doctor Matasumi and Mr. Winsloe."

"Ah." I inhaled softly. My teeth ached from all this saccharin. "So they are aware they've given Ms. Bauer a cell with access to mine?"

"Mr. Winsloe felt it fulfilled all necessary security requirements."

With as sweet a smile as I could muster, I thanked them for their time and they left. So I'd been right. This was Winsloe's idea. Put Bauer in the cell next to mine, leave the gaping hole unrepaired, and see what happens.

Once they were gone, I checked the hole. I'd torn it open nearly to the steel bracing, and it was less than a foot square. So there was no real risk of Bauer breaking through. The most we could do was communicate.

Without warning, Bauer leaped to her feet and slammed her fists against the glass. "Open this door, you fucking bastards! Open it or I'll rip out your goddamned hearts! I'm the big bad wolf now. I can huff and I can puff and I'll blow you to smithereens." Her voice trailed off in a high-pitched hiccuping laugh.

Well,
theoretically
we could communicate.

I examined the photos of Clay for clues as to when and where they were taken. The date stamp on the back said August 27. I mentally counted days. August 27 had been yesterday. So Winsloe's story had been true-at least the part about someone taking these pictures of Clay the morning before. I still refused to believe he was dead. Judging by the realism of Winsloe's tale, I assumed Clay really had killed several members of a search party. That made sense. If Jeremy discovered these guards were following the group, he'd have sent Clay after them with instructions to bring one back alive for questioning. But the last time I'd seen Clay, he'd been in no shape for high-risk missions.

"Do you recognize him?"

I whirled to see Winsloe and his two guards in my cell.

Winsloe smiled. "Werewolf hearing not up to par this morning, Elena?"

Come to see what damage your sadistic ploy has wrought, Ty? Well, last night's breakdown was all the reward you're going to get. I was back and ready to play the game.

"Sorry," I said. "I was busy studying these pictures. He looks vaguely familiar, but I'm not coming up with a name." Eyes still riveted on the photos, I asked, "So, how did Xavier like the cognac?"

A split second of hesitation. I peeked out of the corner of my eye and saw Winsloe's mouth tighten. Score one for me. I bit my cheek to keep from grinning. Winsloe rolled his shoulders and crossed the room. When he looked my way again, he'd replaced his smile.

"Bastard never showed up," Winsloe said. "Probably passed out somewhere sleeping off that Jack Daniel's."

Oh, yeah. Sleeping it off in a five-star hotel somewhere with a wallet full of Winsloe's cash.

"Probably," I said. "Now, about this wolf you want me to ID, like I said last night, a scent would be better. Get me a scent and, if I've met the guy, I'll know it."

"You're that good?"

I smiled. "The best. If you had an article of clothing or-" I jerked my head up. "I know. The body. You have the body, right? Doctor Matasumi wouldn't leave the body in the woods for anyone to find. Take me to it and I'll give you that ID."

Winsloe pulled out my dining chair and lowered himself onto it, buying a few extra seconds. Come on, asshole. Think fast.

"Well, that's a problem," Winsloe said. "The guard was really shaken up after he shot the brute. Hightailed it back here. Larry and Tucker lit into him like you wouldn't believe. Leaving a werewolf corpse in the woods? We didn't hire these guys for their brains, that's for sure. Tucker rounded up a new team yesterday afternoon and sent them out to retrieve the body. Only they couldn't. Guess why."

"It was gone."

Winsloe laughed and tilted his chair back. "A fellow horror-flick buff. You got it. They found the spot and they found the blood, but no body. Now Larry's furious, thinking the project's in jeopardy because someone found the body. But there's another possibility, isn't there? That the werewolf is still alive." Winsloe hummed the theme to
Halloween.
"So I ordered another team to start looking for our mystery immortal. But don't worry."

"About what?"

Winsloe grinned. "I know what you're thinking, Elena. Don't put on the tough-chick face for me. You're worried that we'll find him. Am I right?"

"I really don't care-"

"Sure you do. You're worried that we'll bring this 'mutt' back here and he'll try to hurt you, like Lake did. Or, worse yet, that he'll usurp your position here, that we'll find him a more interesting specimen and dispose of you. But that won't happen. I won't let that happen, Elena. You're too important to me. No other werewolf will take your place. I've made sure of that. Before that last team left, I took them aside and promised a hundred-thousand-dollar bounty for the guy who brings me the head. Just the head. I made that clear. I don't want the live werewolf."

He stood to leave. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms until I smelled blood. Winsloe took five steps. Ryman smirked at me, then pulled open the door for Winsloe. Before stepping through, Winsloe snapped his fingers, pulled a smaller envelope from his pocket, and tossed it at my feet.

"Almost forgot. New surveillance photos. Fresh from last night. Seems Tucker was using his brains, sending a new team to find your friends. They found them. For a few hours at least. They've lost track since, but I'll keep you posted. I know you're concerned."

I gritted my teeth. Daggers of fury threatened to split my skull.

"Seems they're looking for someone," Winsloe continued.

"Me," I managed to say.

"Oh, I assume that, but now someone else has gone missing. Our team managed to capture some bits of conversation. Someone's jumped ship. Someone important. Problem is, we're having trouble figuring out who it is. Larry's working on it, comparing these new pictures with our old ones. Maybe you can see who's missing. You don't have to tell me, though. I wouldn't ask you to rat out your friends."

Winsloe left. I closed my eyes, felt the pain stab through my skull and palms. It took several more minutes before I was ready to look at the photos. When I did, I found pictures of the group conferring and milling about. I didn't need to figure out who was missing. One look at Jeremy's expression told me. Clay was gone. He hadn't been acting under Jeremy's command the morning before, when he'd tracked down the former search team. He was on his own. Alone.

Clay was coming after me.

I spent the rest of the morning racking my brain for a new escape plan. I had to get out. Not eventually, not soon, but now, immediately, before Winsloe tired of this latest game and upped the ante yet again. The harder I struggled to come up with an idea, the more I panicked, and the more I panicked, the harder it was to come up with an idea. I had to calm down or I'd never think of anything.

Bauer settled down later than morning. When I was sure she was lucid-which I determined by the fact that she'd stopped screaming and started eating her cold breakfast-I went to the hole and tried to talk to her. She ignored me. When she finished her meal, she rummaged for a pencil and paper in a drawer and wrote a two-page letter, then walked to the door and politely asked someone to deliver it. I could guess the contents: a plea for release, a more reasonable version of what she'd been ranting about for the last few hours.

So Bauer wanted out. Well, so did the rest of us. Did she feel like a "guest" now? As I thought this, a plan formed in the back of my brain. Bauer wanted out. I wanted out. When I'd first gone to nurse her, I'd hoped that in her gratitude she'd help me escape. Gratitude was out of the question now. But what about escape? What if I offered to take her with me? Bauer knew the compound's weaknesses and its security system-that is, if she was sane enough to remember. Combine my strength and experience with her knowledge and we could be a formidable team. Not exactly a complete and foolproof plan, but it was a start.

One remaining problem-well, okay, there were lots of remaining problems-but a big one was how to escape the cells. I pondered the possibility of staging something that would get me out of my room. Sure, I could probably do it, but could I get Bauer out at the same time? Unlikely. When the guards brought my lunch, I studied the door as it opened, seeing how it operated, looking for a weakness. Then I noticed something so blatant I kicked myself for not seeing it before. The guards didn't completely shut the door. They never did. Why? Because the door opened only from the outside and they never brought an extra guard to stand in the hall and let them out, as Bauer and Matasumi had always done. When they entered, they left the door a half-inch ajar, giving them finger room to pry it open. How could I use this to my advantage? Well, I could knock out one guard while the other pulled his gun and shot me-okay, bad idea. I could say, "Hey, what's that crawling down the wall?" and make a break for it when they turned away. Umm, no. Better give this one some thought.

The guards dropped off my lunch at one. When they opened the door to leave, I sneaked in a peek into the hallway. Tess wasn't there. Lunchtime for everyone. Good. While Bauer was lucid and no one was listening in, I could broach the subject of escape with her. Was it safe? She could try to garner favor with Matasumi by selling me out, but I doubted she was desperate enough to grovel. Not yet. Besides, given her circumstances and animosity toward me, no one would believe her if she did tattle.

Listening for telltale noises from the hall, I moved my chair close to the hole, sat, and peered through. Bauer was pacing.

"Feeling any better?" I asked.

She kept pacing.

"I don't want to make things worse," I said. "But you know they won't let you out of that cell. To them, you've switched sides."

Pace to the door, to the TV, back to the door.

"If you want out, you'll have to get yourself out."

Still no response. Not so much as an eye flicker in my direction.

"You have to escape," I said.

Bauer wheeled on me. "Escape?" A harsh laugh. "To what? Life as a monster?"

I could have reminded her who chose that monstrous life, but I didn't. "I know it's bad now, but it'll get easier-"

"I don't want it to get easier! "she snarled, striding toward the hole. "I want it gone! That's what I want them to do for me. Get rid of it. Suck this curse from my veins and make me normal again."

"They can't do that," I said softly. "Nobody can do that."

"Bullshit!" Spittle flew from her lips. "You want me to suffer, don't you? You're enjoying this. 'Sondra got what she deserved.' Ha-ha-ha. Well, I didn't deserve this. You never said it would be like this. You tricked me!"

"Tricked you? I warned you not to do it."

"You didn't tell me everything."

"Oh, well, excuse me. When you barged in here like a madwoman waving a syringe and ranting about starting an exciting new life, I should have whipped out my handy 'So You Wanna Be a Werewolf' disclaimer form and made you sign on the dotted line."

Bauer grabbed a chair, hurled it at the hole, then stomped into the bathroom.

I had to work on my approach.

A few hours later, Bauer's sanity made another guest appearance. I was ready. Plan two: Be more empathetic. While I found it hard to work up much sympathy for someone who'd done this to herself, somewhere deep in me there was a faint, fluttering urge to empathize. Bauer was another female werewolf, likely the only one I'd ever meet. Remembering the horror of my own transformation, I understood what she was going through. Winsloe had asked if I'd ever done anything like Bauer did to Carmichael. My reply hadn't been entirely honest. Back when I'd escaped from Stonehaven, my already demon-plagued brain had plummeted into uncontrolled madness and rage. I'd killed two people before Jeremy rescued me. Unlike what Bauer had done with Carmichael, I hadn't known my victims and I hadn't tormented them or torn them to pieces. Yet I had done one thing I would never forget. I'd eaten my victims. Was I that different from Bauer? I hadn't shot myself up with werewolf spittle, but I'd fallen in love with a man I suspected was dangerous. I hadn't killed a friend, but I had killed innocent people. As much as I resisted, I understood Bauer. And I wanted to empathize.

The question was:
Could
I empathize? As my awkward episode consoling Savannah had proven, I was not a naturally empathic person. Pushing past my doubts, I stationed myself by the hole and looked into Bauer's cell.

"How're you doing?" I asked.

Bauer spun to face me. "How the fuck do you think I'm doing?" She inhaled sharply, eyes closing as if in pain. "This isn't me. This body, this personality. It's not me. I don't use this language. I don't throw tantrums. I don't plead for my life. But do you know what's worse?
I'm
still here, trapped inside, looking out."

"Your brain is still accepting the transformation. It'll get-"

"Don't tell me it'll get easier."

I knew what I had to say, what I had to share, but the words caught in my chest. Biting back my pride, I forced them out.

"When I was first bitten, I-"

"Don't."

"I just wanted to say-"

"Don't compare yourself to me, Elena. We have nothing in common. If I gave you that impression before, it was only because I wanted something from you."

"Maybe so, but we have something in common now. I'm-"

Her voice went cold. "You're nothing, Elena. A nobody who became a somebody by accident. Becoming a werewolf was the defining accomplishment in your life, and you didn't even take a hand in it. Your money, your youth, your strength, your position, your lover, they're all yours only because you were the only female werewolf."

"I-"

"Without that, what are you? A no-name part-time journalist whose annual salary wouldn't cover my wardrobe."

With that, she wheeled around, stomped into the bathroom, and started the shower.

You know, empathy really is a two-way street.

At seven the guards brought my dinner. As usual, one carried the tray while the other stood watch, gun at the ready. I ignored them, having given up hope of bringing a guard over to my side or gaining any valuable information from them. Best to treat them as deaf-mute waiters. I had other things to worry about.

When they came in, I was on my bed, thinking up escape plans. After a moment, I noticed the tray-bearing guard lingering at my table, looking at the photos of Clay. He nodded at his partner and nudged his attention to the pictures. "It's him," he mouthed.

"You know him?" I asked.

The guard started, as if the bed had spoken.

"You know him?" I repeated. "The wolf in the photos?"

Both men looked at me as if I'd joined Bauer in her private asylum, probably thinking
I
should be the one who'd recognize a werewolf, not them.

"Tyrone dropped those off," I said, still on my back, feigning all the nonchalance I could muster. "He figured I might be able to ID the guy, but I couldn't. Seems he caused some hoopla at a motel."

Now they were definitely looking at me like I was ready for a straitjacket.

"You don't recognize him?" the one by the door asked.

I stifled a half-yawn. "Should I?"

"Isn't this your mate?"

"Clay? No. He'd never leave the Alpha-our leader."

"Then why-" The guard stopped, turned to his partner and lowered his voice. "Does Matasumi know this?"

"Why?" the other guard said, not bothering to whisper. "It doesn't matter who the werewolf is. If anyone sees him around here again, we kill him. That's the order."

My hands clenched, but I forced myself not to make a noise, not to say a word, not to ask a question. The second guard shrugged, and they left without so much as a glance in my direction.

Clay was nearby. I'd been right. He was coming for me. I couldn't let him do that. There was too much he didn't know, too much he was unprepared for. Clay had bested Tucker's search party easily enough, but here there were at least five times as many guards, plus a fortified underground building with a top-notch security system, all surrounded by a forest laced with Ty Winsloe's traps. I had to stop Clay before he tried to rescue me. To do that, I needed to escape-fast. I glanced at Bauer's cage. Time to throw off the kid gloves.

It was nearly midnight before Bauer was lucid again. For the past two days, I'd been honing my ability to judge when someone was in the hall. Part of it was hearing, part of it was sensing. Though it was difficult to know if someone was watching us, there was a definitive way to tell if they were listening in. The intercom. When turned on, it gave an audible click, then hissed softly until someone turned it off. After Bauer regained her senses, I waited until the guards passed on their hourly tour, listened carefully for the intercom buzz, then reclined onto my bed.

"You still think they're going to let you out, don't you?" I called.

Bauer didn't answer, though I knew she could hear me.

"You know," I continued, "there was someone who would have let you out. Who probably wouldn't have let you get thrown in that cell in the first place. Unfortunately, you tore her to pieces."

Bauer inhaled but didn't reply.

"I know you remember," I said. "It's like you said, part of you is still there, a sane part, watching. Do you remember what it was like? Chasing her? Seeing her confusion? Her disbelief? Listening to her plead for her life? You can still picture it, can't you-the look on her face when you tore out her throat." I paused. "Do you remember what she tasted like?"

A clatter from the other cell. Then retching. I waited. Bauer stayed in the bathroom.

"Who's going to let you out, Sondra?" I called. "Who's going to risk becoming your next meal? Who out there gives a damn? Only one person did and now she's in a garbage bag… or several garbage bags."

"Stop it." Bauer's voice was quiet, almost quavering.

"Maybe you plan to escape by yourself. Then what? Where will you go? Back home, snack on mom and dad?"

"Stop it." Stronger, but still shaky.

"That's what'll happen. You won't be able to end the hunger and the Changes. Eventually you might gain enough control to survive, but at what cost? How many will die first? You'll start killing because you have to, then keep doing it because you can, because after a while you develop a taste for it, the power and the meat. That's what happens to mutts."

I paused before continuing. "Speaking of mutts, the first one you meet will kill you. Of course, he'll probably rape you first, as it will be his only chance to screw a female of his own species."

"Shut up."

"I'm foretelling your future here, Sondra. Free of charge. Only one person can help you avoid all that. The Pack Alpha. The question is, how do you get his help? Well, if you escape by yourself, you could show up at his doorstep, plead for mercy. He'll be very nice about it. Invite you in, take your coat, show you to the parlor, offer you coffee. Then he'll introduce you to Clayton. And that handsome face you admire will be the last thing you see. That is, if I'm still alive. If I die here, I really wouldn't recommend you go anywhere near New York State. The hell you're going through now is nothing compared to what Clay will do to you if I die."

The bathroom door slammed. "You're trying to scare me."

I laughed. "You know better, Sondra. You met Patrick Lake. You know what mutts are like. You know Clay's reputation. I'm offering you a way out. Help me escape and I'll make sure Jeremy helps you."

"Why should I believe you'd keep your word?"

"Because I'm a Pack wolf, and I wouldn't degrade myself by lying to a mutt. To me, that's what you are. A useful mutt, but a mutt nonetheless."

Bauer didn't reply. For an hour we stayed silent in our respective cells. Then quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, Bauer agreed. And we went to sleep.