Chained

Part Six

by Kimra

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She rubbed her wrist with a shaking hand, eyes fixed on the chain that had held her. He'd taken it off her, and he hadn't put it back on, and he didn't seem to have even considered it. And then he was gone, back to his side of the room, back to his world. But it wasn't his side of the room anymore, because this wasn't hers. But she couldn't bring herself to cross the boundary, to invade what was his.

It was late now, too late. She could hear he was asleep though she wasn't sure when he had done that. Her heart was beating to fast to hear over, her mind unable to move from the chain on the floor and the wrist it had imprisoned. There was blood in her ears, an overload of her mind. It was what she wanted, had been waiting for for so long she couldn't remember.

If it had been anyone else, if it hadn't been this man he'd be dead. There was no question, no doubt, if anyone else had done it she would have killed without thinking. The chain had fallen and the instincts that had warred for freedom for so long had kicked in but all she had been able to do, to think was 'not him'. She couldn't kill him, couldn't even cross the boundary of her existence because she was afraid still that he would crumble into something wrong and evil and all too human.

Still she rubbed her wrist, trying to push away the bruises and scars. Signs of the imprisonment that he had just freed her from. She should have run, been running, anywhere, but she couldn't move beyond that rubbing motion. And what was for her anyway? Beyond the wall's beyond the windows? She looked to the window. She could smell the forest in the night breeze, like music in her veins in sung and sung begging her soul to follow and surrender. It had been teasing her before, taunting her every moment of every day when she couldn't reach it, and now it was just in arms reach and she wasn't sure if that's what she should be reaching for.

Her body was shaking. Who was to say they wouldn't find her again? Hunt her down and lock her back in. Who was to say the freedom would last more then a breath before she lost it once more? She had never thought this far before. In the dark hours of the night when the human's where sleeping, when she was alone all she had been able to think about was blood and death and ridding herself of the chain. And now it was there she was just as scared of reaching for the freedom as she was of not. If she reached and it was taken away again she wasn't sure she would be able to bare it, if she stayed and never tried at least then she wouldn't know, her memories wouldn't be as fresh and taunting as the faded ones from before.

Too much doubt. Her hand stilled it's rubbing. Doubt wasn't something she was used to. It was an emotion too human to be hers. But she was human, or something else. She wasn't sure which. But then he wasn't human, he couldn't be. So maybe she was like him, or maybe that's what she had been. She didn't know, wasn't sure what she was. But she knew what he was, knew he could help her, knew he would.

She stood slowly uncoiling muscles that had clamped while she crouched thinking. She stepped over the shackle's silently. Nothing rattled, nothing creaked as she moved and she revelled in that almost unnoticeable freedom. She was a predator, and if she chose she could hunt again.

She stopped at the boundary of her world, where the chain had never let her pass. He was asleep, the keys where on his table, the window was open. She bit into her lower lip and watched him, then the window.

He could protect her if she let him. But that too scared her, because maybe he didn't want to. She couldn't force him to help her, couldn't force him to do anything.

So with natural stealth she crossed the border and turned to the window. Nothing was different about his side of her border. The floor wasn't cleaner, the air wasn't sweeter, the leeching feel in the atmosphere wasn't gone, but there was elation in her heart as she pushed on that overwhelmed anything bad and made everything good.

She moved to the window and lent against it's sill, breathing in the air from beyond. She looked out into a world she could reach now. The man made a noise, she glanced quickly confirming it was a sound of slumber that he had not risen then stared back out into the world. The forest wasn't far, down the roof tops and across the barren yard. She reached for it with her mind, felt the tantalizing brush of the kindred's presence. He made another noise and she glanced again, restless noises from his restless sleep. Some of the nights he had slept away without stirring, others he could not find sleep and some like this night he was stuck between the two. She looked away, looked out to her waiting freedom, still unsure.

Something moved in the yard, she ducked down quickly, ordered herself to calm. There where people in their barren patch between building and tree's. She could hear them talking, soft whispers she couldn't hear, wouldn't understand if she could. She kept below the window sill, her head back against the wall, controlling her laboured breathing. If they saw her they would kill her, or worse.

He made another noise and she scrunched her nose at that. He would never be a hunter, even in sleep his body betrayed him. But maybe that's what was so trustworthy about him. It didn't matter what it was though, he was still safe he still would not harm.

She bit into her lip again and let her eyes close. She wasn't sure what to do, but right now the decision wasn't one to be made. The humans beyond the window where blocking that escape and she would wait until it was empty. She refused to risk it all on a chance unless desperation was all that was left. So for now the choice was made, she would stay, with him. He might not want to help her, but he would not harm or hinder her.

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Numair lent up against the stable wall. He had a headache and he wasn't sure if it would ever go away. If the little cat hadn't been a hindrance on his conscience as it was she had certainly managed to make herself one now. Of course he hadn't chained her again, he hadn't given it much thought. If she had wanted to attack he assumed she would have the moment the chain fell off or at least when he was helping her change. But she hadn't, so he hadn't put thought into the dangers she could present.

It was probably the stupidest thing he had done in a long time and he blamed the mistake on the aggravation of this dead end task. It probably would have been fine if she had any respect for boundaries, but animals rarely cared about the invisible lines humans set and she was very nearly animal.

He had not been prepared to wake with her curled up beside him. He'd called her a cat before, but she had just proved herself true to the name. She had been sound asleep, comfortable and warm. For a girl who hid under her bed all night every night it had been an unexpected action, but then again what had he given her to be afraid of?

It worried him that she was too comfortable, that his presence in her life, no matter how brief, had returned to her the ability to trust. And the fall back to what she had been would be so much harder on her.

What gave him the headache though, what persisted to nag at him was the knowledge that she could have been gone without anyone knowing any better. She could have been out the window and gone and she wasn't. Only a small part of him was glad she hadn't taken the opportunity to escape because attention was not so fixed on him now as it would have been if she was gone, all the other parts wished she had gotten away.

"Curse's." He rubbed his temple firmly, trying to push the headache back at the same time calling forwards a speech spell in his right hand. He had things to focus on other then the Cat.

"Numair?" Alanna's voice questioned.

He looked down at the spindle of magic in his right hand then glanced about him. Nobody was in sight, but that was why he had chosen the spot.

"This isn't going well Alanna." He almost growled it. Too little sleep among enemy's and the fiasco with the Cat was doing nothing for his temper.

"Do you need back up?" She sounded like she would happily charge down from the village and kill everyone. Sitting on her hands though had never been Alanna's hobby so he was hardly surprised.

"I don't know." He gave a sigh. He shouldn't have made the link, but his mind was desperate for something.

"Have you found anything yet?"

"The place is clean Alanna." He felt weary as he told her, the times they had found nothing where beginning to mount against them.

"Too clean?" There was little hope in her question.

"Probably."

"You think they where expecting us?"

It was probable, and that's what made everything so frustrating. "I think Grevin's too stupid to pull off anything like this on his own."

"His wife maybe?"

"Jesika Debec? Maybe. Probably. But then our source was wrong."

"It wouldn't be the first time."

They where both grasping at straws, he knew it as well as she did but sometimes it felt as if it was all they could do. Another sigh escaped him, he had to say it, he would be doing a disservice to his friends if he didn't. "It doesn't matter, as far as I can tell I've looked everywhere and there is nothing to be found."

"We need this Numair." Desperation was not a common tone of voice used by the Lioness but he was becoming more and more used to hearing it.

"I'm not going to get anything Alanna. Either they where expecting us or the information we got was wrong and they have nothing to do with Carthak."

"Numair… if this falls through-"

"I know what it means." He closed his eyes tight against the frustration. "We'll just have to try a different approach."

"We could arrest them for running a whore house."

"And for inhuman treatment." He murmured it to himself, his attention going back to the Cat. "No." He shook his head, forgetting he was alone and the communication was through magic. "It wouldn't work. We have to draw back completely and send someone else latter, when they think the threat has passed."

"That could take months Numair!"

"Better that then it being a complete loss. Yes I know what this means, and it means if it takes months before we can be sure to get what we want it's better then trying to rush it now and lose everything we've gotten so far!"

Alanna's hiss of discontentment filtered through the spell into the air around him and he could empathise with her frustration. "Okay, your right. I'll contact Jonathan, tell him what's happening." There was hesitance in her voice and Numair knew none of the warnings he wanted to voice where necessary, she would deal with everything as only she could. "In the mean time have everyone set and ready to leave. Don't over do it with enthusiasm, and make the lie good."

"I'll tell them my hag of a wife demands my company." He drawled trying to put a bit of humour into a sour situation.

"I'm flattered." She bantered back.

"You should be, I've called you worse since arriving here." He snuffed the communication spell out. His mind and thoughts returning to where they shouldn't.

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