RedKnife (Skin Walkers Book 2) (5 page)

Chapter 8

RedKnife waited impatiently for Cindy to return to her apartment.  He’d beaten her home and let himself in before quickly shifting back to dog form.

The front door slammed open and he trotted out to greet Cindy as she slammed the door closed equally as hard before lifting her head to pin him with weary, red-rimmed eyes.

“Oh, Hoax.”  She rushed to him, and for a second he bristled, unsure of her intentions.

When she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around him to sob into his fur, he felt both worried and protective.  Neither of which was the appropriate response to being hugged by a traitor.  Swallowing hard, RedKnife attempted to harden his heart and steel himself against the pity he felt for this small woman.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered.  “I’m so fucking tired of this.”  She rocked back on her heels and released him to swipe at her tear-stained cheeks before falling back and sprawling on the floor with her arms and legs spread wide as she frowned up at the ceiling, drawing in steadying breaths.  “I hate my life.”  She turned her head to him.  “I wish I was a dog.”  She rolled to her side to stare at him, leaning her head against her upraised palm.  “We could run away, and all we’d have to worry about is each other….and food!”  She rolled to her back again.  “I like food.”  She sighed again.  “I miss food.”

Miss food?
  Suddenly, he remembered peeking into her fridge as she’d been preparing dinner.  Aside from the measly ingredients she’d pulled out for her meal, it didn’t house much else, and that didn’t make sense.

He turned his head, eyeing her apartment as if seeing it for the first time.  It was…a dive.  Everything looked old and worn out.  None of the furniture matched; hell, the two chairs at the miniscule table didn’t even match each other.  Plus, she had no food?  It dawned on him then.  Cindy was poor, but that didn’t make sense.  She worked full-time at StoneCrow, and he knew she was paid well.  He eyed her apartment again. 
There’s no way in hell this place takes all her money.
  Hell, her rent couldn’t be more than a few hundred dollars for the ratty shithole.  And he’d seen her car, so that wasn’t where her money went either.

Curious now, he scooted closer to her and inhaled as she lifted a hand to pet him absentmindedly.  It wasn’t there.  No mother’s strings attached her to any offspring, so she wasn’t paying child support.  Funny, that the knowledge she had no children pleased him.

So where did all her money go?

After she’d covered for him with the detective at StoneCrow, he’d looked into her file.  He knew she not only worked full-time at StoneCrow, but she also worked part-time as a bartender at one of the city’s pubs.  Eyeing her nervously now, he scented her again, almost afraid to know.  Relief flooded him at the absence of drugs in her system.  She wasn’t an addict, and if the lone beer in her fridge was any indication, she didn’t have a drinking problem either.  So what was left?  Gambling?

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself!”  Her sudden self-chastisement drew him from his reverie as he watched her hobble to her feet and head for the bathroom.

“Bring her in.”

Monroe StoneCrow’s command--shot to RedKnife through the mist--brooked no refusal, and RedKnife was more than a little annoyed with the directive.  He’d contacted Mulholland, in his role of chief of security, with the hopes of no longer being involved.  But now, watching Cindy pace her small apartment in clear distress, he felt his own agitation bubble forth at the knowledge that King wouldn’t be coming to relieve him, but to aid him in taking Ms. Sambrano back to StoneCrow for questioning.

Cindy’s voice carried to him from the bathroom.  “How do I get myself into this shit?

Her words drew him from his reverie as he watched her retrieve a large carving knife from the kitchen before storming toward her bedroom.

RedKnife rolled his furry body to watch as she passed, her feet stuttered as she bent to pet his head.  “Aww, Hoax.  You won’t let anything happen to Mama, will you?”

Hell no, he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.  Well, aside from
him
taking her in.

Getting up, he padded after her into the bedroom and watched as she set the large knife on her nightstand before turning to give him a humorless smile.  “Just in case.”

She went into the bathroom, but he didn’t follow.  He was an asshole, but not a complete bastard.  He’d give her the privacy she deserved.  Short minutes later, after the flush of the toilet and the long blasting of water, Cindy emerged wearing a satiny-white nightgown.  The garment hung to just above her knee and swayed as she drew a brush through her hair.  He swallowed hard.  The sheer gown clung to her frame and drew his attention to the outline of her full breasts and the pert nipples that poked the fabric.

He felt arousal stir and snapped his eyes toward the door, waiting impatiently.

Monroe had informed him that King was on his way to extract them.  The thought of King seeing her in her nightgown had him gnashing his back teeth.

He shook himself hard in an attempt to get his head back in the game.  He was to extract Ms. Sambrano with little fanfare.  He and King were to bring the potential traitor back to StoneCrow.  Part of RedKnife wished he’d kept his mouth shut, but no woman was worth the sacrifice of the Walkers being able to live a peaceful existence at StoneCrow.  Even a woman who drew him as no other had before.

His eyes tracked Cindy as she disappeared back into the bathroom before reemerging just as quickly sans brush.  He watched her stop at her nightstand, apply balm to her lips, and then squirt lotion into her hands before slathering the vanilla-scented concoction onto her hands, arms, and face.  If this was her nightly ritual, it was tedious.

Finally, she climbed into bed, clicked off the lamp, and settled beneath the blankets.  Good.  RedKnife would let her sleep until King arrived.  Settling stretched out on the floor, he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest as the sound of her light breathing lulled him.

A short hour later, RedKnife blinked.  His eyes were still focused on Cindy, but his ears picked up her distress before he ever saw her move.  Ears pricked, he listened harder, trying to ensure he hadn’t imagined the soft, pleading sound.

Cindy jerked, then cried out.  “No!”

Hackles now up, RedKnife sprang to all four paws.  Had someone slipped into the house unnoticed?  His eyes jerked around the room as his nostrils flared, drawing in all scents.

“Cody!  Don’t leave me!”

Cindy’s plea had his eyes snapping back to her.  Eyes still closed, she moaned, then rolled to her side.

A dream?

“Don’t leave,” she sobbed again, and RedKnife was startled to see tears slipping down her cheek.

Nightmare.

She was dreaming, and it wasn’t pleasant.  The fact that she was dreaming about the man that had shoved her around earlier angered RedKnife.  The fact that she was crying over the prick
enraged
him.

She begged ‘no’ once more and RedKnife had enough.  He barked, just once, but it was enough.  She quieted and then slowly stirred awake.

Sitting, he watched intently as she sniffed and then lifted her hands to rub at her cheeks.

“Oh, God,” she moaned, in what sounded like self-reproach as her fingers encountered her tears.

She sat up, swiping at her cheeks, sniffling again before turning on the lamp, flinging the covers aside, and abandoning her bed to pad to the kitchen.

He didn’t follow.

Moments later, she returned with a large glass of water.  Lifting it to her lips with a shaky hand, he watched as her slender throat convulsed with a few swallows before she placed the glass on her night stand.  One leg was already hiked up onto the mattress, and she was reaching to turn off the lamp when she stilled at the sound of a vehicle outside.

RedKnife tensed.  King had arrived, but he was surprised Cindy had heard.  The blacked-out trucks used at StoneCrow were intentionally muted so as not to attract attention or signal an arrival.

It was time.

Chapter 9

Cindy rushed to the window.  Peeling back the curtain by a mere fraction, she peeked out and cursed.  “Shit!”  Spinning, she hurried to the lamp and cut the light, bathing the room in darkness before she hurried to the bathroom to dress.  RedKnife took advantage of the opportunity to rush out to the front room.  He shifted quickly and unlocked the front door before returning to stand in the shadow of the doorway just outside Cindy’s room.

She raced out of the bathroom with an armful of clothes, dropping them hurriedly on the bed.  She was shaking out a pair of jeans and had just bent over to cram a leg into them when she stilled.

Slowly, she turned and locked fear-filled eyes on the darkened doorway.  RedKnife knew she sensed him there.

He stepped into the room, directly into the path of the glow from the streetlight that filtered through the curtain.

“R-RedKnife?”  Her voice was tremulous, and he scented her escalating fear.  “What are you…”  She eyed the doorway behind him.  “What are you doing in my apartment?  W-what do you want?”

He wanted to soothe her with a lie, but the truth was, he had bad intentions.  She’d be taken to StoneCrow, where she would be interrogated by Monroe.  It wouldn’t be pretty.

“You.”  His voice was deep, sounding more menacing than he’d intended.

Cindy shook her head.  “Why?  What?”  She swallowed hard.  “What’s going on?”

He took another step toward her and held out a hand, palm up, curling his fingers inward to indicate that she should come to him.  “Monroe has questions.”

She paled, then moved more quickly than RedKnife expected.  One second she was half bent in an attempt to dress, and the next her body turned, her hand snaking out and coming up with the knife.

“S-stay back!”  Her words held little conviction, as if she weren’t sure she should even make the demand.

He took a step closer, and it was a mistake.  She jerked back, bumping the table.  The glass of water toppled off the stand and crashed to the floor, bathing her feet in water and surrounding her with broken glass.

RedKnife frowned at her feet.  “Don’t move.”  His intention was to move her safely away from the glass, but she was clearly terrified by his movement.  Stepping away from him, she slipped and went down hard.  RedKnife reached for her, but she scrambled back.  The scent of her panic and fear was overwhelming.

Her gown soaked up the water, and RedKnife inhaled slowly, only to scent her blood.  She’d hurt herself.  He growled in frustration and regret, then just as quickly throttled the sound when she lifted the knife higher, her trembling hands barely able to hold the damn thing steady.

“Stay back!”  Her eyes darted from him to her foot, then her thigh.  She brushed a hand over her hip and down her leg, and RedKnife wanted to snarl when he saw the crimson path that followed.

He squatted to get eye level with her.  “You’re hurt.”  He titled his head sideways to study her.  “You’re making this worse.”

He dug into his front shirt pocket and pulled something out.  Cindy thought it looked like an e-cigarette, or a small tube of some sort.  She was trying to figure out what it was when he put it to his lips.

His eyes didn’t leave hers as his breath escaped him in a hard push of air.  It was then she felt the pinch.  She hadn’t seen anything leave the object in the dark, but her shaking fingers quickly moved to just below her collar bone, pulling out a small object imbedded in her skin.  Dropping her eyes from his face, she inspected the tiny, needle-like projectile. 
Is that? 
It looked like a porcupine quill.  She rolled it between her fingers, noting an oily substance coating the surface.

Confusion marred her delicate brow seconds before her body heated uncontrollably.  The knife clattered to the floor as her arms lost all their strength, and she whimpered in fear.  She was falling to the side when RedKnife caught her.

“Shhhh,” he soothed, smoothing the hair back from her face.  Her terror-filled eyes tore at him.  “No one will hurt you.”  The words felt hollow though as she lay defenseless in his arms, her gown soaked and blood seeping from several wounds on her body.  Monroe would, in fact, inflict pain if she failed to cooperate, or if they discovered she was working with the Megalya.

Cindy’s chest rose and fell rapidly.  As she struggled to stay lucid, one lone word escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered closed.  “
Don’t!”

RedKnife lifted her easily from the floor and settled her on the bed before flipping on the lamp.  He disappeared into the bathroom and dug around under her sink until he found a first-aid kit.

“RedKnife?”

He ignored King’s telepathic query and set to work inspecting Cindy’s injuries.  She’d cut the bottoms of both feet, and he pulled a large piece of jagged glass from one foot before wrapping the foot with gauze and tightly taping it.  She’d definitely need to be seen by Jenny once they reached StoneCrow.  Funny though, how his mind pondered how well she’d heal without medical attention.

Several more wounds to her thigh, hip, and one palm were wrapped, then he stilled to eye her nightgown.  It was soaked.  His eyes flitted to the window, and he weighed his options.  It was winter in Montana, which meant it was arctic conditions outside.  In fact, it hadn’t stopped snowing for days.  According to weather reports, meteorologists couldn’t explain the sudden storm that had hit North Central Montana.

Crossing to the dresser, he jerked it open and rifled through until his hand came out with a long flannel nightgown. 
Much better.

It took him seconds to strip her bare, but then he stalled as his eyes roved her body.  She was exquisite.  Her breasts were full and her hips flared just enough to make his hands itch.  Bending, he smoothed a rough hand up her rib cage, resting it just under the swell of one bare breast.  She wore panties under her gown, but no bra, and the sight was mesmerizing.  He cupped her breast and kneaded it, surprised at the softness that evoked such a rigid response in his jeans.

“RedKnife, you need me?”

He jerked his hand free and straightened, ashamed at having fondled the woman in her unconscious state, but unable to stop himself.

“No.”
His response was clipped.

Pulling the comforter from the bed, he wrapped Cindy and lifted her.  Exiting the house, he found King waiting outside the door.

As RedKnife exited, King entered.  Per protocol, King would clean up any mess to ensure that if anyone came looking for her they’d suspect no foul play.

Settling his burden in the backseat of the truck King had brought, RedKnife climbed into the driver’s seat and started the vehicle before backing out.  King would shift and fly back to StoneCrow once he’d completed his task.

No one would suspect anything until RedKnife failed to arrive at StoneCrow with the alleged traitor.