Chain Me

Help Us

     I watch on as Hakeem helps Lost plug in her new game console to the TV in the living room. She seems ecstatic to have something new to do in her free time and Hakeem is clearly excited to have a player two.
     "Okay, so you put this on," Hakeem says, scooting away from the TV and handing Lost a headset. "We can talk and plan and stuff. The rest of the team can hear you, too."
     Lost adorns the headset and fiddles with the microphone portion of it. "Who's the rest of the team?"
     "This kid from my school and some other people I met online." Hakeem shrugs as the console starts up and gives Lost her controller. I wonder who these other online people are and whether or not they're appropriate friends for Hakeem. "You can practice with me first so you can get better."
     "Cool," Lost mumbles, wiggling her fingers as she holds her controller, getting used to it in her hands. But then her whole body goes rigid before shivering like she was just washed with ice water. She shakes her head quickly and drops her controller. "Go home," she demands of Hakeem. "So we can play online."
     Hakeem gives her a funny look, as do I. "What? Don't you want me to show you how to get started?"
     Lost stands and starts to nudge Hakeem towards the door. "I'll get it. I want to play a little on my own."
     "But to get online you-"
     "Don't worry. I'll figure it out." She scoots Hakeem out into the hall and shuts the door before he can argue anymore.
From outside Hakeem's tiny voice says, "Tell me your ID when you're ready," then it goes quiet.
     I frown, worried, as Lost takes off her headset. "Someone's here," she says, "and they're not supposed to be."
     I wet my lips as Lost puts on her shoes. "Who?"
     She growls and squares her shoulders. "Witches."
     They must have followed us home from the mall. But what could they want from us by using scare tactics? If that old woman from the shop wanted to cash in her favor then she could have come to me herself. I still don't entirely believe in witches and magic but, damn, Lost is making these people scary. If she thinks there's a threat then there's definitely a threat. Or at least something she perceives as a threat.
     "Stay here," Lost instructs. "I'll go see what they want."
     "They?" I suppose I should have known that. Lost did use witches, plural. "Wait. Let me go. They want me, don't they?"
     Lost's weight shifts to one leg and she balls her right hand, her jaw twitching. "If they do, they cannot have you."
     "I'm not saying I'm going to give myself up, but we could save ourselves a lot of trouble if I meet them. The favor is mine to give, isn't it?"
     "Well..." She averts her eyes. "I'm not comfortable having them around you."
     I approach Lost and lean down to get her to look at me. "I'm more capable than you think."
     "I completely trust in your abilities."
     "And I trust in yours. You'll help me if I need it, right?"
     Lost gazes intently at me and touches my hand. "Of course."
     I gently squeeze her fingers and smile. "Then let me come with you to meet these people."
     She hesitates, but nods and opens the front door for me. She points down as we're in the hall then leads me to the elevator. We drop down to the ground floor in a minute, Lost growing increasingly agitated by the second, and remain side by side as we come into the lobby. Everything looks normal, but standing in a small huddle are a group of women, perhaps four or five of them, the elderly woman from the shop leading the pack. I don't feel as threatened by them knowing that they chose to wait down here rather than come up and storm the apartment. That earned them some of my trust.
     "You remember me?" the old woman asks as she steps forward. Apparently she's to speak for the group.
     I nod and step forward, too, and Lost tenses. "I do," I tell the old woman. "Why have you followed me to my home?"
     "I want to make use of this." She pulls a baggy from her coat pocket- the baggy with my hair in it. "Perhaps we should retire to somewhere more private?"
     Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth I peer around the lobby and find only one other person around not involved in this, and they're checking their mail. "Fine," I mutter. "We can... go upstairs."
     Lost inflates but bites her tongue and doesn't challenge it. I appreciate her trusting in me and hope she remains compliant as the next part comes.
     I wave for the old woman and her group to follow me to the elevator and wait for it to be available. Another resident comes out of the elevator in a minute and jerks back, surprised, when he sees us all waiting outside. He lowers his head and pushes through us, murmuring "Excuse me, excuse me," and trying not to be a bother. We let him pass then shove ourselves into the elevator. I stand in the back corner, Lost surrounding me, and everyone else finds their own space. From my position I can finally see how many women there are, five, and one of them is cradling a little boy in her arms, no older than two.
     Lost visibly relaxes before me as the toddler burbles in discomfort and his chubby hands reach at nothing. She makes weird noises as we ascend and the child grows less agitated, and even giggles. His mother pats his back and turns enough to look at Lost, and to my surprise, she gives Lost a grateful smile and nod.
     Finally we reach our floor and everyone steps out into the hall. They all wait for Lost and I to lead the way. I take the group to the apartment and allow them all inside, the whole affair awkward. Lost stands in the kitchen where she can see everyone and I stand by the island while everyone else stands or sits in the living room.
     "So," I drawl, my shoulders up to my ears and my palms showing at my sides. "What kind of favor do you want?"
     The old woman sits on the edge of the couch with no one around her. "I want to borrow her." She waves her hand vaguely at Lost and raises her eyebrows.
     "What?" I cross my arms over my chest defensively. I assumed she'd get to the point right away but her favor is plain disrespectful. "First, she's not a thing you can just borrow, and second, why are you asking me? If you want her help you ask her."
     The old woman smiles at me. It irks me how condescending she appears. "You must give her permission."
     "I don't control her."
     "Then who put that collar on her?"
     I spread my feet, annoyed. "Don't talk about her like she's not in the room."
     "Fine, when you don't."
     Lost growls from behind me and I think her nails scrape against the counter. I drop my arms from my chest and sigh, if only so Lost won't take my anger as her own. "Lost?" I call as calmly as I can. "Do you want to help this woman?"
     "No," she snaps immediately.
     "I guess that's settled, then," I tell the old woman. "You can ask her, too, if you want, but I don't think her answer will change."
     The old woman lifts her chin and inhales. Then she looks at Lost and says, "Your amare owes me a favor. She won't if you help me."
     I turn my head to look at Lost over my shoulder to find her eyes lighter than usual and her jaw clenched so hard I can see her facial muscles ticking. "If I don't help you?"
     "Then I will have her do something neither of you will like."
Lost takes at least a dozen steps forward in half a second and puffs out her chest, scaring everyone but the old woman and I. The little boy starts to fuss as I hurry up to Lost as she snarls, "I will kill you. Your ability to ask for a favor will die with you."
     I place a hand on Lost's chest before she can advance any further. "You're not going to kill her."
     "... I'm not going to kill you," she grumbles.
     I sigh in relief then turn to the old woman. "What is it that you want Lost's help with? You're obviously desperate."
     Finally showing something other than false bravado, the old woman wets her lips nervously and jerks her head to the side, silently asking to speak to me alone. Lost pushes against my hand and huffs, her eyes on the old woman. I push back and look up into Lost's face.
     "Hey, hey," I whisper soothingly. "Relax, okay? Stop that. It's okay, it's going to be okay. We're just going to talk."
     Lost stops trying to fight me and sighs in frustration. "She threatened you."
     "Because she's desperate for help."
     "But she-"
     "Give me five minutes. Please. I just want to hear her out and see what I can do. Will you let me do that?"
     Lost's jaw ticks. "You can do what you want."
     "Ah, no," I scold. I slide my hand up Lost's chest to touch her collar bones with my fingertips. "You have a say in what goes on here. I'm asking if you'll let me try this for five minutes."
     Lost's heartbeat can be felt underneath my hand, and it's faster than normal. Her face relaxes as she leans into my hand, this time in want of my touch rather than to combat it. "Only five minutes? You promise?"
     "I promise."
     "Okay," she sighs, nodding. "You can talk to her. "
     I smile and run my hand up then back down Lost's neck. "Five minutes," I assure her. "Don't make trouble in that time. You can... try to make everyone else comfortable. Okay?"
     She nods and almost leans in for a kiss, but stops herself. She smiles sweetly instead and waits for me to go. I do, and usher the old woman near the hall so we can talk with relative privacy. I give Lost one last look, satisfied that she isn't harassing anyone, then focus on the old woman.
     "So why are you so desperate for Lost?" I ask.
     "We need her for protection," she tells me, getting to the point. "A branch of our coven isn't safe from your kind. She needs your Lover's help."
     "What do you mean?"
     The old woman scowls at me. "Your zealot brothers are killing off my kind."
     I glance in the living room to make sure everything is okay, then ask, "What are you talking about?"
     "Witch hunters. Holy men. Monster killers. Whatever you call them. They want my family dead for nothing more than existing. It's disgusting."
     I open my mouth to defend myself, but stop, knowing that would be rude and stupid. This isn't about me, and saying, "But I'm not killing your kind!" helps no one. Her kind is dying. My fragile feelings pale in comparison.
     "Tell me what I can do to help," I say instead.
     The old woman appears relieved and she sighs. "Thank you. Please loan your Lover to me. She can get rid of the man stalking my daughter and her family."
     "I can't loan her," I say, making the old woman deflate. "She's her own person. All I can do is ask her and maybe try to convince her to help."
     "Why?" the old woman asks, much too loudly for my liking. "Why do you pretend like you don't own her?"
     "Because I don't!" I hiss. I'm quick to lower my voice as I peer at Lost in the living room. She's sitting on the floor with the little boy, playing with him and making him giggle wildly. She looks at me with a smile on her face, but something in her eyes tells me she'll come to me in a millisecond if need be.
     "I don't own her," I whisper, refocusing on the old woman. "She's her own person."
     "Not anymore," the old woman sighs. "She's ugly inside."
     "Don't you say that. Don't."
     "It's an observation. I'm sure you know how twisted she's become. She's not her own person and she hasn't been for a long time."
     I hesitate, glancing at Lost. "She just needs..."
     "Love?"
     My eyes snap to the old woman. "What?"
     She stares intently at me, studying me too closely. Her lips move oddly and there's a strange sensation under my skin from her gaze. "So you finally stopped playing games," she muses.
     "Excuse me?"
     "I hope you want a small family."
     "Wait, what?"
     "We can talk about Lover heritage later. Will you ask her if she will help my family?"
     "This is the favor? All I have to do is ask?"
     The old woman touches her hand to her chin. "Try to convince her. Persuade her to help. Then you will owe me nothing."
     I nod and take the old woman back to the living room. Lost is laying in the floor with the little boy sitting on her lower legs and holding onto her feet. He bounces and laughs as Lost lifts her legs into the air.
     "Lost?" I call, clearing my throat.
     She lowers her legs then sits up and gently picks up the little boy. He clutches at her shirt but she hands him over to his mother. He fusses for only a second then hugs his mom, forgetting Lost all together as she comes to me.
     "Come here for a second, yeah?" I ask her, motioning my hand for her to follow me to the hall. She stays close to me and continues looking into the living room to keep an eye on everyone. I don't think it's necessary, no one's attempting to even leave the living room, but it makes her feel better.
     "Look at me," I tell her. "I need to ask you something."
     She turns her attention to me and waits.
     "They want you to protect them. Someone is killing them off." There's no point in beating around the bush on this. She needs the truth and I owe a favor. "I don't know how long they need you or what you might have to do, but they think you're the one for the job."
     "I am," Lost mutters.
     "You are?"
     "Another evolutionary development. My kind handles offensive magic very well."
     "I... don't know what that means. But they need your help. You can deny them if you want, but I have to ask if you will. That woman..." I peer at the old woman in the living room. She's comforting the little boy's mother. "She's trying to keep her family safe the best she can."
     Lost sighs. "I know, but I don't want to leave you. If I accept this, I will have to be separated from you for who knows how long."
     "Well maybe they'll let me come with you."
     "And what about the General? He might call while I'm helping them."
     Damn, I hadn't thought about that. "We can... We can..." We can what? Commute between here and wherever these witches want us to protect them? That's ridiculous, and not practical.
     "Okay," I eventually say, shrugging, "Maybe we can-"
     Lost goes rigid and grasps onto my hand too hard, and her eyes widen. I watch panic cross her face a half second before she turns away from me and I reach out to her but a loud thump in the hall makes me freeze. The front door bursts open in a dome of bright white and I'm blown off my feet. I land softer than I thought I would and groan, my ears ringing. My eyesight is faulty at best, but I make out Lost's trimmed figure down the hall between the living room and kitchen, by the front door. She's bent over... or maybe on her knees. But why? What the hell is going on?
     Behind the ringing in my ears there's soft screaming. I crawl towards it and blink rapidly to try to see better, but only lay eyes on chaos. The living room is a wreck and the front door is slammed open- no, its gone, right off the hinges.
I lift myself up off the ground enough to get on my knees. The screaming has stopped but the ringing is still there, and I can't find Lost. She's not anywhere in sight. The women that were here are gone, too, except one. She's with someone, hugging near the front door. No, not hugging. She's struggling against the other person, someone I've never seen, but they're not letting her go. I wobble up onto my feet and reach out towards her.
     "Hey!" I think I say, but I'm not sure it's as loud as it was in my head.
     A shadow engulfs me and I look up, scared. A grungy face stares down at me. I push at the shadow but he grabs my wrist and shakes me into compliance. I call out for Lost, beg for her to come get me, but she doesn't come.
     Then a fist to the head forces me back to the ground and I'm not able to ask for Lost anymore.