The pain was unbelievable. The blood just kept coming, and the rain just kept washing it away. Every strike of the heavy drops sent more jolts of pain through her. She stumbled, dragging her leg through the dense mist of falling water to the cover of an alley. Her gun was neatly stored in the line of her jeans, out of sight. She had torn the arm off her shirt to tie roughly around her leg, but it helped little. Her mind hurt just as much as her leg. The pain and frustration of the memories just at her fingertips yet still beyond her reach.
She needed time to think, time to heal. She knew given a chance to think about things she would remember, understand. Yet no one seemed willing to give her the chance. The brick face next to her head exploded from the impact of a bullet. Reflectively she ducked, diving behind the dumpster. Her leg caused her to stumble ungracefully. She bit her lip hard not to scream from the pain. There was no thought to her movements, just reflexes. She didn't think when she pulled the berretta from her pantline. Or when she jumped up and fired from over the dumpster.
It was the mercenary who had been following her. His long black trench coat suddenly stained with blood as he moved to slow. He had not expected her to come so fast. He returned fire, diving to his right. There was no cover for him. He just kept firing. He was surprised when she took many hits, but didn't react. She didn't hide either. Just kept calmly walking straight and firing on him. He landed hard, blood gushing from many wounds.
When she was close enough she simply stopped firing and plucked his guns out of his hands. Her eyes were clouded, as her face seemed carefully blank. "Do you want to live or die?' she asked coldly.
He stared at her in amazement, not sure what to think.
"DO you want to live or die?" she asked again, this time crouching so their faces were closer. He could see the blue orbs boring into him. He found himself answering without thinking about it. As if her eyes had commanded him silently.
"Live." He gasped.
"Its simple." She said quickly. "I haven't shot you in anything that will kill you immediately...yet. Answer my questions and I'll give you a chance at life."
He continued to stare up at her, not understanding.
"Who sent you?"
"I can't tell you that." He growled. He was paid for his silence. He was a professional. But her eyes held his, bore into him. Again he found himself answering, 'A guy in black. Known only as Rigel."
She released his eyes and nodded. "The black bastard." Her mutter seemed more unconscious than anything. "You were paid to hunt me? Specifically me?"
"No' he answered willingly. She had gained her previous answers without his willingness, yet without harming him. He figured willing or not she would get the rest. "There was a list. You were on it. All to be killed on sight."
She nodded again, her eyes falling unseen on the ground. After a moment of thought she looked at him again. Her face had changed to serine gentleness. He didn't know what caused the change, but she looked so beautiful and calm, especially for a marksman who had just shot him down. "Do you have a place? A place where no one will find us for at least a day?"
He nodded. "Two blocks away." She nodded. Rising she began to remove her shirt. He could only lay and watch, and appreciate the view. She wasn't tall, actually rather petite. Her body was athletic and well honed from years of fitness. She was pale, not spending much time in the sun. Her skin was unblemished and smooth. The long tendrils of dark hair more floated than fell down her back. Looking over her should she smile at him, completely aware of his attention?
"Don't shit your pants now." She said as her body changed. She grew in size and weight. Golden fur as pale as her skin spreading across her body as she transformed. Her face grew into a long muzzle filled with razor teeth, ears growing long. Somehow deep in his mind a voice whispered, she's a deadly monster, run, get away. Yet he could do nothing other than watch. He knew he should be afraid, but somehow he was fascinated. She still seemed.... beautiful.
Having grown from four-nine to six-five she turned to him. She watched his eyes as she approached. He didn't squirm or resist. Her conscious mind was shouting 'what the hell are you doing?'. Yet her conscious mind was not in control. It had not been in control the entire time. Instincts, reflexes, self-preservation was controlling her now. She picked him up and carried him under one arm easily as she leapt to the nearest wall. Climbing straight up to the roof. He didn't say anything as she moved.
Up on the roof she stopped to look. Somehow the sunlight shining over everything seemed unnatural. Wrong in a way. She had been here, she had been here at night. In a small voice he guided. Told her where to go. She didn't question him, or question whether she should trust him not to guide her into a trap. Her feet moving swiftly as she made two blocks seem like two steps. Her enhanced senses taking in everything, questioning nothing.
His place was a small bachelor pad, barely furnished. The low bed was cheap and barely used. She climbed into it using the fire escape, setting him gently down on the bed. He groaned, having lost much blood, but not enough to really kill him. She changed back into the form he had first met her in. Not making any move to cover up. Her eyes seemed clouded and haunted again, a hand rising to press against her forehead. After a quiet moment she turned to him.
"I said I would give you a chance to live." She swallowed nervously, "I can do no more than that."
"Why not?" he asked. There was something wrong. He knew. Maybe he could weasel his way out. "What is stopping you from just killing me? Or letting me go?"
The hand went back to her head as she let out a soft whimper. "I don't know." She whispered, "I just can't. I have to do this..."
He had no warning as she descended on him. Her bare chest presses alluringly against him as her teeth clenched on his shoulder. HE gasped as she tore through the skin, slicing into the muscles. As soon as she tasted his blood she let go. Moving away. That was when the pain thrust through him like a knife.
She watched sadly as the fever hit him almost immediately. It would be hours before she could tell if he would survive or die. Until then she had to cover herself. Quickly rising, she began a search of his little place. Some clean socks she found a bag she used to gag him so he couldn't scream in his pain. Finding some dirty ones she used them as weak ties to restrain him. He wouldn't need much during the fever, but she didn't want him throwing himself on the floor either.
Her leg was almost healed; they had not the knowledge to use silver. To her luck. She dug through his fridge. Typical guy, there was half a carton of spoiled milk and some beef jerky. She pulled out the jerky and chewed on it.
Curling up in a chair in the corner she watched the window closely, listened to the things around her intently. Now was time to think.
It had only been hours ago she had wakened to find her lover missing. She knew he had gone out hunt; she had helped him figure out where to start. But he was always back and in bed before she woke. Not this time. She had waited a little, fretting. With no memory and little resources, he had cared for her for the last six months. She was willingly devoted to him. Gathering the materials they had used, she went over them one last time. IT was a picture that had caused her to snap. Her mind gone cold, and her baser instincts kicked in. His target was a playboy known as Rigel. She knew Rigel...but from where? Again it seemed so close.
She had dressed, collected their stuff and left the hotel and made her way to that spot. To the place she knew he would have started his hunt. No not search but hunt. Not once in six months had she questioned his nightly hunts. She only knew that he took contracts and only worked at night. A memory flashed through her mind. There was a scent of strong worn leather, and a voice booming in her ears. "Who Is Your Enemy?" it demanded. Followed quickly by sharp pain. She cried out, as the pain seems so strong it was physical. "Who is your enemy?" seemed to loom in her mind. The unanswered question that seemed to rise above the rest.
How has she known to stick a gun in her jeans? How had she known to take that gun? To expertly clean it and load it? She had done that before for Conrad. Surprising him by lying across his lap in a hotel room, her bottom bare to him, as she had striped a rifle that had frustrated him. She had it back in one piece and workable by the time he though to touch her. How had she done that? And with this merc, she had taken the shots he gave her and returned with excellent aim. She knew where to aim and to hit without doing permented damage, yet incapacitating him. Why had she brought him here? Why had she bitten him? He had been hired to kill her. He could easily turn on her. Yet she bit him. Possibly made him like her. Why?
He thrashed in his sleep. She blinked back to reality. Several hours seemed to have past. Still the only thing certain to her was she had to find Conrad. He had been the key. The key to her survival, the key to her memory. Rising she fetched a glass of water and went to his side. The worst seemed to have past. He was calm in his bed. He'll survive, she thought, but what now? Releasing his arms and legs she carefully removed the gag. There was no more need for those items. She carefully raised his head, pressing the glass to his lips. Satisfied only when he had taken a few sips.
His hand caught hers as she went to lower it. His fingers biting into the tender flesh. He now held the sheer strength to harm her. She whimpered slightly from the slight pain. Instantly his fingers released her. She put the glass down and turned back to him. "How do you feel?"
His eyes bore into her for a long moment before he spoke. "Awful".
She smiled weakly. "That's to be expected."
"What did you do to me?"
Her smile faltered as she stared at him. Her eyes unfocusing for a moment. "I.... changed you."
"A werewolf." He breathed. "You're a werewolf and you made me one." His voice was full of accusation.
She nodded silently. "Lycan. Don't ask me why, I don't know why I did it."
He said nothing for a long time. She could only watch him, wait for him to say or do something. And he did. He reached down and grabbed her shoulders with all the grace and gentleness of a newborn puppy. He pulled her into his arms and held her. Neither understood why. She let out a soft whimper and buried her face in his shoulder. Wait for it, a voice whispered in her head, the anger will hit. Don't be too close for it. She didn't move in reaction to the voice.
After a few moments she rose and went to the window. It was almost sunset. She shuddered thinking what was going to happen.
"Talk to me," he demanded quietly. "Tell me what is happening."
"I don't know." She said I a tiny voice," I can't remember."
"What do you mean you can't remember?'
She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes clouded. "I have no memory. I have nothing I can tell you. I can only do what my instincts tell me. That is how I survived the last year."
He rose to sit on the edge of the bed. Slowly taking in the sudden changes in his perception. He was stronger, his senses all more acute. And a hunger was growing like nothing he knew. She looked so delicate standing by the window. So beguiling.
"So what are you going to do?" he demanded his voice colder as anger began o fill him. She was a survivalist, he knew that. It was dangerous to stand still in this world; it was dangerous to slow down. He slowed her, his logic told him she would leave. She had inflicted this on him now she would leave him to the worst.
"I don't know." She said softly. "I remember nothing, yet I know much. If that makes any sense." She shook her head, trying to erase the thoughts that had infected it. Turning to lean against the sill she smiled at him. His heart nearly turned over at the beautiful sight. "We should get you some food though. I bet you've developed an appetite."
He stared at her. How had she known that? She said she didn't remember. He frowned, "I can fend for myself."
She gave him a sudden knowing smile; something told him she didn't realize these words as they were coming out. "No you can't. And you won't be able to for some years."
Her words seemed derogatory to him. He rose, towering over her in the small room. "I've been a mercenary for many years. I can take care of myself."
"What do you know of vampires?" she asked, her face suddenly blank and pales. As if her own words had triggered something. He watched as she took a painful breath, closing her eyes and trying to muffle an obvious painful whimper. Whatever she had remembered, it was bad.
"Vampires?" he asked quietly. His anger somehow fading at the appearance of her pain.
"Yeah," she replied in a tiny voice. "If they discover you, you'll be at the top of their list. On that very list you found me."
He frowned. "All those people were were..Lycans?"
She shrugged. "I don't know I didn't see the list."
He said nothing. Vampires hunted him now? How did she even know he was one of her kind, he's never changed or anything? Did he?
"Rigel," she said in a suddenly strongly bitter voice, "Is a vampire. He was who Conrad was after. I need to find Conrad."
"Why?" his mind once again turn angry. She had him, why did she need another. He could take care of her, protect her.
"Because he knows who I Am." She said softly, "He knows who I was."
"He's told you this?'
"Yes, he was trying to get me to remember. Trying to help me. Now I got to help him." She said softly. The logic was there.
"What about me?" he said softly. The logic was there, but it didn't seem to quell the anger that brewed inside him. He didn't understand why, he had live years without anyone close. Why was it suddenly important that she be near?
She smiled. That same serine smile that he had seen once before. Her hand rose to his forehead, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. "You are my pup, I'll never leave you."
He let out a soft cry and crushed her too him. He didn't understand the brewing feelings. He was deeply afraid of what he had become, what was going to happen to him. And somehow, the fact that she swore not to leave made it all better. He wasn't alone.
She wrapped her arms about him, pressing his head to her chest. She wasn't alone, she had him. Somehow she was afraid she had changed him only so she wouldn't be alone. Yet there was more to it. He was useful to her. It was something she had not consciously thought of. Her unconscious or her old self seemed to be in control, not her. She was just along for the ride.
After a long moment she pulled away. "We can only stay a little. Its almost night and we need to hide."
"Hide from the vampires?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered with a nod. "And everyone else."
"Why?" he asked simply.
WHO IS YOUR ENEMY? His question seemed to trigger the voice. The same question over and over. The pain it inflicted seemed too intense. It was the warm hands holding her that brought her back. She opened her eyes to find herself looking into his.
"It looks like you need me as much as I need you." He said gruffly.
She said nothing at first. Looking only to the floor. He was right, she needed him. Not for protection, but help. "W-what was the name you had for me on your list?" she said softly.
"Laura," he said back with a half grin. "If his is your way of saying hello, what do you do to give your phone number?"