Knuckles bounded up to Rouge, his eyes towards someplace else. "Something on your mind?" she asked.
"Rouge, I've gotta go… guardian business. I need you to come with me."
"What? No way!" she responded.
"I have to keep close to you to make sure you don't do anything rash," he said. "Since I've gotta go someplace else, you have to come with me. And since we're low on time, we should go now."
"Being a guardian is your job, not mine," she said. "I don't do community service. I refuse."
"You can't refuse! My only other option is to throw you off the island!"
She crossed her arms. "How about this. I swear on my honor as a Hunter to not leave the immediate area until you return."
Finally he turned fully to her. "Rouge, what is that supposed to mean?"
"A member of the Hunter's Guild, while on assignment, is expected to uphold the highest standards of integrity. When you're not on assignment you can be a perfect scumbag, but when acting as a Hunter your honor is paramount. I swear on my honor as a Hunter that your precious jewel will not be threatened by me."
Throughout her speech he kept glancing over his shoulder. He was obviously out of time. As soon as she finished, he said, "If you're lying, I'll kill you, but I'll take your word for now." Without another word he scampered off at high speed.
Rouge scoffed. "I don't take very kindly to death threats!" she shouted at his absent form. But as the words echoed in her mind, she realized that the death threat was hollow.
Knuckles obviously trusted her, or he'd never, ever leave her like this. That was where the emphasis of his last statement was. This was the first time he'd ever let something like this happen. The death threat was merely a formality he used to reassure himself, to convince himself that he was in fact doing his duty.
Progress. That's what this was a sign of. She was gradually working her way into his confidence. All she had to do was keep her agreement and leave the emerald alone.
Oh, was that all? Maybe after that she'd get so good at flying that she'd be able to reach orbit.
The moment she thought about the emerald she felt herself losing sanity. It was an obsession she'd always had—jewelry was an end unto itself. Upon seeing a jewel she liked, she had to have it. The compulsion could be delayed, but never removed. And now, with her attention off of Knuckles and no obstacles between her and her goal, she could feel it seize her mind.
It wasn't truly an aesthetic reaction, nor was it really because she was greedy. Rather, it was a dark compulsion that overrode all other concerns. She'd never had any luck fighting it, and it had intensified the more often she gave in to it.
Without thought she moved. She knew where to find the Emerald, and she knew Knuckles was otherwise occupied. It would be no great task to snatch the Emerald—a cakewalk for the legendary Hunter, Rouge.
Hunter…
'WAIT!'
She jerked back as she screamed at herself. 'What are you doing? Didn't you just promise to leave the Emerald alone?!'
Well, yes. But on the other paw, it's a jewel. A particularly large, beautiful jewel, that also happens to contain ultimate power.
Once more, she felt her will being swept away. It took all her effort to keep from breaking off into a sprint, headed for the jewel.
But… but…
'NO!'
Even her maximum output of willpower was struggling to contain the voracious desire consuming her now.
'You see?' it said to her. 'In reality, your coming here had nothing at all to do with Knuckles. You wanted the jewel. So, like always, you manipulated him into letting you get close. Now it's only natural that you take what's rightfully yours. After all, people only deserve to have what they can hold on to—and he's let you take it, if you want it. Oblige him.'
She'd heard this argument before! Her predator side was back with a vengeance, and it was tearing into her resistance. Time and time again she'd taken advantage of other people's kindness, and time and time again she'd justified it. It wasn't always about jewels; these methods had gotten her wealth, training, equipment, status, many different things. What was so different this time?
She took a few steps, then a few more, then many more.
'No! Stop, no!'
Come on. Why should you stop?
'Because every time I've done that I've ended up alone!'
So what? You've never cared before.
'I do not want to lose Knuckles!'
The realization struck her with a power that shook her core, to the innermost chambers of her heart. It wasn't that she wanted some generic companionship; it was HIS companionship, specifically, that she hungered for.
She fell the ground, trembling, her body torn by conflict. She was throwing all her effort in support of her desire to hold on to Knuckles, but her lust for the jewel was overpowering. An idea struck her—she just needed to pull it off!
She gathered her focus and concentrated on her will to remain on the island, her will to wait for Knuckles, and she managed to gain some control over her body. She staggered towards her tent and dug through her supplies, frantically searching for her salvation. She had to set this up before she lost her strength, before her control over her own body bottomed out. There!
She rose again and staggered for a tree. 'Knuckles… I want to stay here… I control myself! I control myself! I control myself!
'I want to stay here with Knuckles!'
She went to work.
Knuckles stank from his job, and he knew it. It had been a long, dirty, tiring job. But he had to get back to Rouge's camp—it really wasn't safe to leave her for so long. The longer he waited, the more likely she was to do something stupid.
He didn't want her to force him to get rid of her. No, there was more to it than that, a dread that increased with each passing day.
He wasn't sure he COULD get rid of her.
He sighed helplessly as he ran towards her camp, aching all over. If she had tried something stupid, he was in no condition to fight her. So now he had three reasons for anxiety. Luckily, he would soon lay them all to rest—she either had or hadn't.
He broke into the clearing where Rouge had settled down and flicked his gaze around. She was nowhere in sight, but her equipment was still here. He sniffed—her scent was present, if faint.
"Knuckles? Is that you?"
Her voice. He sighed in relief as the weight of his concern rose from his shoulders. "Yeah, it's me," he said, jogging in the direction of her voice.
The sight that greeted him was about as far from his expectations as was possible.
Rouge's wrists were bound behind her in an impossibly complex knot, and that knot in turn was tied to a tree. The ground exhibited signs of thrashing and turmoil, probably Rouge's thrashing and turmoil, judging from the soil and moss on her clothing.
"What happened?" Knuckles asked, bewildered. "Was someone else here?"
"Please," she sneered, "like anyone else could do this to me. No, I set this up myself."
The words just couldn't penetrate to his head. He heard them, but there was no meaning to them. He didn't understand. "Why?"
She tossed her head. "One has to practice constantly at one's skills, or they degrade. I put myself in the most complex knot I knew and charged myself to get out of it."
Knuckles grinned. Of all the self-inflicted miseries, this was the most pathetic. "Looks like it didn't work."
"Shut up!" she said. Knuckles caught something. Raw as he was in dealing with other people, even he could tell by her voice that there was more to it than she'd revealed.
"So, do you want to struggle some more, or shall I get you out of this?" he asked.
She moved into an upright position. "It's pointless to try more," she said as if indifferent. "Besides, it's starting to cut into my circulation, and that just won't do."
Knuckles approached her from the side and leaned behind her, reaching for her forearm. "Don't even try to hold my hand," she growled.
"Don't worry," he shot right back, but with a grin. "You'd stab me with your claws if I tried it." He got a firm hold of her forearm with one hand and carefully edged his knuckle-barb under the knot with the other. He was impressed—the knot was extraordinarily tight around her wrists, and it was quite a task to get between the knot and her flesh without hurting her. It was a wonder her hands hadn't already fallen off.
"Ready?" he asked. She nodded, and he ripped his hand back, tearing out the knot.
Immediately she sprung away from him, the rope falling from her arms, and vigorously shook her hands out to restore circulation. "Ow, that stings!" she said.
"You did it to yourself," he said, pre-empting her inevitable blaming of him.
"I know," she said, then started to laugh.
"What?"
"Thank you."
Huh? Knuckles was getting more and more confused. It was obvious that there was more to her tying herself up than a little self-training, and her thanking him for anything was well off the beaten track as far as their relationship went.
"Thank you," she repeated, and repeated again, and went on repeating, causing Knuckles to blush ever more brightly.
"Really, thank you. Thank you. I mean, thank you…"
"Okay," he said, flustered. "It wasn't that big a—" he stopped mid-sentence.
She was smiling.
She'd smiled quite a bit since coming here. But most of those smiles had been predator's smiles—toothy affairs that were more about dominance and menace than about mirth.
This time he couldn't see her teeth. It was a real, wholesome smile.
She was beautiful.
He knew that most people would shout at him, "Well, no duh!" He knew that her body was an object of lust to many. To him, that only put him more on his guard; he had to be suspicious of everyone, and someone looking the way she did just made him more alert for treachery. Her smiles up to now had only reinforced this opinion.
But THIS smile—so sincere, so frank—the one that made him feel as if he didn't actually need to be on-guard… that was what made her beautiful. This genuine feeling that covered her face now and emanated from her was so powerful he could feel it changing him.
Changing him—they were both changing. She'd never smiled like this before, and the effect was all the stronger for it.
She stopped waving her hands, and he noticed again the claws built into them. It occurred to him that, if she'd wanted to, she could've freed herself.
Apparently she hadn't wanted to free herself, for reasons he couldn't begin to imagine. This whole episode was the product of some lunacy in this mad bat's mind.
But if cutting ropes from her hands would make her smile like that, would make him feel this way, he would cut them a million times and more.
To feel this way, to see that smile, there was little he wouldn't do.
"You're welcome," he said.
TO BE CONTINUED...