Huntress

Chapter 54

A wolf with red eyes stared at me. I felt like I should know him, but I couldn't place him in the moment. He was an illusion, a ghost of what had been.

"Tell me what to do," I begged. "I know that this is wrong, but I don't know what is right."

Blood was dripping from my hands. A still warm body lay at my feet. I should have felt pride. I should have felt strong and thunderous. But I just felt weak and ill.

"Please," I whispered.

But the black wolf had turned his back on me and was running back into the woods.

I was left to face the consequences of my sins.

Something was on my mouth. something warm and wet. I jerked my head back at the sensation, feeling like I had just woken up while sleep walking.

"Come on, H," Milo said in front of me. Exasperation was clear on his features as he grabbed a napkin off the little round kitchen table and wiped the wetness off of my lower lip and chin. "I don't even know if I can call you that anymore. Huntress. It seems wrong." His hands shook a little when he dipped the spoon in a red liquid.

The colour was wrong, too pink to be blood, more the colour of beets. But it was all I could think about. The blood on my hands, dripping down my wrists. The warmth of it, the coopery smell in the air. When he brought the spoon to my lips again, my lips refused to part. I didn't even know if I was hungry, when I tried to turn my mindfulness onto my belly, I felt nothing, just like I couldn't feel my toes.

"Fucking Christ," Milo hissed, tossing the spoon onto the table. The beet soup splattered over the wood of the table top. He didn't seem to care as he dropped his head into his hands. A moment later, he lifted back up, sucking in a deep, grounding breath. "Alright, let's get you into bed and I'm going to go to work. Normal work," he added, like either of us could ever go back to anything else.

I wanted to lay my hand on top of his. I wanted to wrap my arms around him like I should have done after Ajax and Keiko had dispatched me to get him. I wanted to rest my head on his shoulder and let every emotion I had ever pushed aside overcome me. Because now, when I watched him clean up the spilled soup, I couldn't say a word, couldn't draw a single tear to my eye.

When he came back for me, he was wearing a lovely little tie on top of a button-up and didn't look quite so fragile. Though it was hard to consider this man ever being fragile when he hoisted me into his arms and carried me into the bedroom that I must have occupied. The blankets were pulled over me and he brushed my strawberry hair out of my eyes.

"Rest up, Georgia. I'll see you after work, okay?"

I couldn't reply and he left without expecting one.

A woman with raven hair stared down at me. a knife was in her dainty little hand, her fingernails perfectly manicured. She twirled the blade carefully, allowing it to swoop towards my neck. I could tense, but I couldn't pull away, my arms tied down at my sides, my legs bound. I could not get away from her and she knew it.

"Why did you go after him?" she wondered.

"Go after who?"

"Ajax, my mate. You could have killed him, you know. he could be dead right now and it would be all your fault."

"But I didn't kill him," I wailed.

"You could have killed him and you could have killed my daughter. My little girl. My whole world. You could have taken it all away from me. You wanted to take it all away from me."

"No!" I cried. "I never wanted to hurt anyone! I just wanted to feel better. I just wanted my family to get back together. I just wanted my parents to be okay!"

Pleading with her didn't seem to change much. Her features didn't soften. He eyes with their subtle downward angle didn't become less angry. If anything, it was like I had stoked the fire within her.

"We will never be okay again," she whispered. Then she slashed the small knife downwards.

"Georgia!"

I knew the voice. It was him. It had to be him.

But I saw blond hair and serious eyes wide with concern. I didn't know what I had been expecting, but this wasn't it.

"I didn't even know that you could scream when you're like this," the man said. Milo. That was his name. Milo. I knew him. Of course, I did. So why couldn't I remember him? And who else had I been thinking about?

I strained hard. There was someone else. There was another man. His voice would wrap around me like silk. One glance at him and I would melt into a puddle. But who? And if he was so spectacular, why couldn't I recall him?

I must have faded out again. When I came back to myself, I wasn't in the bedroom anymore and I couldn't recall how long I had been splayed across the couch.

I could hear the voice again. Soft and low.

"Yes, I have her in my care. I need her to be receiving the same care her parents are. It happened suddenly, but she has the same illness that her parents have. I just need someone to keep her comfortable and happy. I don't have the ability to do it all myself. Between the bathing and the changing and meals. It's too much. I'm not able to give her the care she needs."

He was talking about me. he had to be. Had he bathed me? No, I couldn't seem to recall him doing that. But, then again, I couldn't seem to recall much of anything. Like how I had gotten here, how long I had been like this, and how I even came to be like this in the first place.

"What do you mean?" the man asked suddenly. A delay, an inhale. "That's not possible. Her parents are young and healthy." A pause. A denial of something. "I suppose you would have tried contacting her and now that she's...Yes. I understand. Okay, I will be the one to contact for now. I'll be making payments and we can just move her into her parents' room or whatever is best for your staff."

Nothing seemed to happen for a while. Something in my mind was calling to me. a wolf clawing at my mental walls, demanding to be let in. but I needed to be here. I didn't know why, but I knew I needed to stay. Even if I couldn't move or talk. I needed to be in this moment.

I blinked. The blond man was in front of me, holding both of my hands in his. His mouth was moving. It was happening, I was slipping, but I fought it for all I was worth.

"God, Georgia, I hope you can hear me," Milo said. he couldn't look at me. he was staring at my knees. "I don't even know how to say this. And I really wish it wasn't true." His hands squeezed mine just hard enough to trigger a pain response in my fingers. I didn't pull away. Even if I could have, I would have stayed put. Feeling something, even something unpleasant, was better than feeling nothing at all. "Georgia, your parents are dead."

~~~Question of the Day~~~

Would you rather give up sweet or salty food?