Safety is Relative

Chapter Twenty One- A Sense of Deja Vu -Part Three

My vision slips into blackness, and then, by straining my eyes at the distant shadows, my surroundings reform into my cellar at home.

Nate is slumped at the base of the bare stone wall, his arms chained above him. His head is hanging down onto his chest, and he looks like he is still unconscious.

The door opens and Mum walks in, followed by Quinn and Dad.

Mum kicks Nate in the side.

He jolts awake and tries to stand up. But the chains hold steady, nearly yanking his arms out of his sockets. He falls back to his knees, his face tight with anger.

‘He’s awake,’ says Mum.

‘Let me go,’ says Nate angrily, pulling on the chains. ‘I haven’t done anything!’

‘They won’t break,’

He glares at her. ‘No, they won’t. I am not strong, I don’t drink blood.’

‘And I haven’t heard that before,’

Nate returns her stare steadily. ‘Why do you have chains in your cellar? I wasn’t under the impression that many vampires passed through this village.’

‘Why are you here then?’

‘So which ones out of you are werewolves?’ he asks, looking pointedly at Quinn.

Quinn has got a laptop on his lap, and he studiously ignores Nate, calling over, ‘Mum, I’m ready for you,’

Mum folds her arms. ‘Alright, this is how it works. You answer the questions and it’s easy and painless. You don’t answer our questions; it’s going to get messy. Understand?’

Nate looks unimpressed. ‘Can we do it without the bad cop impression? You haven’t even started torturing me and it’s painful already.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Nate Haemon,’

‘What’s your real name, the one you were born with?’

Nate laughs. ‘Why? So you can look me up in the census? Good luck with that,’

‘What is your birth name?’

He hesitates before answering, ‘Nathaniel Lovell,’

I gasp, and all three of them betray looks of shock. Mum puts her hand to her throat, and Quinn nearly drops the computer, he jumped so high in the air. Meanwhile, Dad is fiddling around with something in the corner, but I see his shoulders stiffen. He stands up and before anyone can blink he has fired a small gun at Nate. Nate gasps and puts his hand to his neck, where a small dart sticks out of his skin. He pulls it out, grimacing, and looks at it.

‘Sage?’

‘Mixed with garlic,’ says Dad, ‘not enough to knock you out like before, but enough to keep you calm.’

‘You think I’m not calm?’

‘Unfortunately for you, slayer procedure demands that no answer can be taken as the truth unless proved under duress,’ explains Mum, motioning to her husband.

He walks over to Nate, who watches him with dark eyes, not moving or reacting.

‘The sage makes you lethargic, and the garlic reduces your blood’s ability to burn away the drug. You can’t fight back until the drug wears off.’