She waited for twenty more breaths, counting each one in thorough concentration, before she had the guts to open the door fully and step in. She tiptoed lightly. The pain in her toes was oddly lessened when she put her weight on the balls of her feet. She saved the questions to herself for later.
She held her breath from the length of the door to the bed. She continued to hold it when she reached the edge of the bed. She then stopped in place and peered over the covers that were all bunched up where his hips should have been.
She could just see his cheek and chin. His eyes were pitch black. The sharp black holes of his eye sockets looked eerie in the gloom. She saw no eyes glaring at her from somewhere in the blackness and so slowly, inch by inch, vertebrae by vertebrae, she bent forward.
She carefully picked up her bag, making sure the contents didn't rattle. With her free hand, she prodded the bag on the outside, feeling around for the pills bottle just to check it was really there. She felt the familiar shape under her hand. It even tinkled faintly to reassure her it was still full and they hadn't removed the pills, in case she tried to escape and take them. Like now, she thought ironically and then scoffed, Duh.
She smiled, stood up straight and allowed herself to breathe.
But that breath got stuck in her throat, choking her, as she saw the dark eyes of her kidnapper watching her in the shadows.
*
A week after...
Monday May 16th, 9:36 a.m.
Council Meeting
Most of the council members were sitting around the long table discussing the usual issues: farming, food stock, money, upgrading the training facilities, tensions and rumours between communities- or 'Packs' if they weren't always anxious about human spies listening in.
A small few amongst them, however, weren't so skittish.
Tyra for example; a beautiful rose -with thorns that drew blood (at least that was her reputation, which she'd worked hard to keep)- of Brazilian decent, was the Spokeswoman for the 'Phasers', 'Cubs' or 'Seedlings', nicknames for those who were new to the Change and needed support. She brought any issues about those that were going through the Change, or anything to do within that area, every week to the council. She also led the Were Finding Organization under the authority of the Pack Leader, Nik, and Head of Council, Arik.
She knew all about Jaz.
Of course she did. She'd helped with the search.
She had also found Lora, the twin, around three years before. And she had been good friends with her. It had stabbed at her solid bitch mask when Lora died. But Tyra had suffered worse. The stab hadn't stood a chance against her impenetrable shield.
And she wasn't skittish. Quite the opposite. So to say 'Pack' or 'Were' or 'phase' or 'Beast', didn't bother her. “How about we move onto this new Were addition to our Pack?” she suggested, pushing in through the mundane conversation.
Arik rolled his eyes and chewed his tongue, his usual sign of annoyance.
She smiled at him, revealing her long teeth; her luminous orange lipstick brightening her dark, bronze skin. Her tight, electric-blue tube dress accentuated her narrow waist and ample bosom- they stood out even more now as she sat up straighter, allowing her attractive figure to be clearly visible above the long council table. Her honey brown eyes twinkled at him as she grinned wider.
It gave Arik the twist of his arm he needed to ignore her careless outburst and get down to business. “I suppose we should. It has, I believe, been on everyone's mind.”
By the silent curiosity in the room, and exchange of looks when he said this, Arik was proven to be correct.
“Can I ask how she is coping? I haven't even seen her yet and it's been over a week,” Tyra said, looking between Arik and Maria. She was sitting in the middle of the long table, her back to the door.
“She is coping, well,” came Maria's reply. The old woman eyed Tyra uneasily, though because it was Maria, the expression wasn't so obvious on her face.
Tyra didn't spot it but she heard the hesitation in Maria's voice. It was enough to aggravate her suspicions. She placed her manicured hands in front of her, drumming her dark-red nails against the wood as she studied the old woman. She stopped abruptly. “So why haven't we seen her? Edda needs to evaluate her progress. She should have been housed in an Early Phase Cabin by now.”
Erica was sitting at the back. She had come, specifically, to hear about this subject. She was a member of the council, but hadn't contributed at all. Her mind was too busy worrying about her niece.
“She isn't ready,” came Maria's cold reply.
Tyra arched a threaded brow. “Meaning?”
There was an awkward pause. Arik gazed at Maria and bobbed his head once to encourage her. When from his signal she felt she had the all clear, she explained. “She hasn't shown much signs of Change, yet.”
“So she hasn't phased?”
Maria shook her head slowly.
“Not once?”
Maria glared at Tyra.
Tyra stared, unflinching.
“So,” came a soft, buttery French accent.