“I wanted to. I’ll admit that. They were hurting my family!” Meg’s voice broke as she felt compelled to explain herself. “But I did not kill them! I left them breathing—their hearts beating. I only ordered them to drop their weapons and lay still!”
“We were there, Meg.” Alik nodded reassuringly. “I heard your words clearly. You did not kill those soldiers.”
“Arkdone did,” Burns’ voice was muffled by his hands as he leaned into them heavily. “Just so he could blame you. He had them killed so their bodies could be paraded in front of the public eye leaving us nowhere to go except on the run.”
As she paced, making a path from one side of the room to the other, Meg started flapping her hands at her sides anxiously. “I just want to be left alone. I just want our family safe. Safe, that’s all.” She muttered. Maze whined from the corner of the room. His recovery had been slow-going, but after they got him to eat and drink, he seemed to perk up a bit. Now he growled protectively.
Without thinking, Meg walked to her growling coydog and sat right beside him to rub his flank gently.
“I didn’t hurt the soldiers any more than I had to. The humans are never going to leave us alone now. I have just sentenced us to a life of running or entrapment and experimentation. Take your pick!”
Maze licked her hand with his warm, wet tongue trying to calm her down.
She stood and continued to pace—looking more and more like a caged tiger with every graceful step. Her dark curls danced at her shoulder blades, darkened even more by the glow of the tacky lamps in the cheap motel room. Her eyes looked black and foreboding in their anger. She wore her jeans effortlessly, her black boots hugging the curves of her calves. The thin black tee covering her small chest accentuated every muscular turn. Not every man appreciated the athletic build of a woman, but Creed did. And for that matter, so did Cole.
They watched her from opposite sides of the room. The orange-sherbet, polyester comforters lay creased from the many people who had used the edges as a seat over the past hour. The laminated wood-paneled walls glistened fake and greasy in the glow of the yellowish overhead lights.
“I can’t stand it.” Meg moved to step into the bathroom, only partially closing the door to yank off her boots and jeans and replace them with the cheap shorts and running shoes she’d picked up at the superstore on a whim.
When she emerged she was muttering under her breath, “I can’t breathe! I’m going to suffocate in here.”
She grabbed the MP3 player from her bag and nearly sprinted to the door.
“Meg, don’t leave. We don’t know what’s hunting us out there. Not only could you be endangering yourself, but we may need you to defend us.” Theo’s very human, red-rimmed eyes looked at the wild female metahuman, making her feel even more separate from her family. His emotions were raw and his frustration at being dragged into this world of powerful men pushing him around was enough to nearly make the mild-mannered ER doctor snap. He just needed some semblance of control over something. But he picked the wrong something.
Meg narrowed her dark eyes at the doctor. “I’m leaving for a run, Theo,” she enunciated carefully, only half trying to control her gift of influence. “And you are going to be fine with that,” she finished in a whisper.
She turned and stormed out of the otherwise barricaded motel room, bursting into the late evening night like a hunted fox from its burrow. Right on her heels was Cole. “I’ll watch after her, Dad. We’ll be right back,” he called over his shoulder as he moved to close the door behind them.
Creed had been about to chase after her, but hesitated. He couldn’t stand hearing her use the words he was terrified she’d been saving for him. “Just be my friend, Creed.” He imagined her saying it so often, it was as though the words had actually come from her mouth. They echoed inside, defining him now.
He sighed deeply and went back to using his knife to whittle a piece of basswood into an arrowhead. The precise work took a tremendous amount of patience. He forced himself to breathe deeply again and thought carefully.
Patience, Creed. She needs time to truly remember who she is and what she wants. Don’t be selfish. Give her space. Just be there for her when she comes to you.
He grimaced as his knife slipped smoothly across the basswood. What if she never comes back to you? His inner self asked.
Then she was never mine. He answered himself, mournfully.
She ran with speed. Nothing outside was scary to her—she could fight the outside battles. The people back in that motel room both scared the crap out of her and meant the world to her all at the same time. Family is messy and beautiful, maddening and irreplaceable and everything ever worth living for.