Mara was in good physical condition, despite the chronic shortage of food, and she knew how to cover distance. She was strong and durable, built for stamina. She stopped in a store, using Duke's money to get herself a cheap, pre-paid burner phone along the way. Several people smiled and greeted Detective Parker, and each of them made her smile grow.
She needed more clothes. She had one way of getting them without breaking any important laws.
Mara made a loop around town, keeping to back roads and jogging at a measured pace. She stopped, hiding behind a tree across from the Gull as she pulled out her phone. She cleared her throat twice, keeping her eyes open as she called 911. When dispatch answered, she used the hushed, hysterical voice that had been hers once, before they'd burned the fear out of her.
"Oh god, please help! I was out walking my dog on the beach and I saw a man choking someone! He saw me, I think he's chasing me! Please, please, out in the woods behind the church- hurry, he's-" Mara smacked a stick against the tree, groaned pitifully and hung up.
Less than three minutes later, Nathan and Audrey were running out the door and Mara smiled. They'd be chasing their tails for at least half the night.
Now she could do some shopping.
Ever vigilant, she watched the Bronco speed off before loping across the street, taking the stairs two at a time to avoid the creaky ones, keeping her weight balanced on the balls of her feet to stay silent. She had to melt the lock again- they'd whine about that- but then she was in and rushing for the 'bedroom'. She took the necessities- tank tops, jeans and pretty much everything of Lexie's. Mara paused for a moment before opening Audrey's biometric safe- not all fingerprints were unique, it seemed- and she stuck the extra Glock in her waistband.
She took a quick look around and felt a pain in her chest when her eyes landed on a framed photo; Duke, Nathan and Audrey, smiling and laughing. She wasn't sure what made her do it, but she grabbed the frame, shoved it in her bag and peeked around outside before creeping down the stairs and walking calmly away. With her hair under the cap, anyone who saw her would assume she was Audrey.
Everyone except Duke, of course. As she'd pointed out, he could always tell them apart.
Once she was across the street and hidden in the darkness, she started running again, headed for the one place in the world where she'd be safe. Spitting distance from the department, Mara crossed the back parking lot and jogged through the woods, stopping at a crazed sculpture of roots as wide as it was high. She felt the Aether respond to her, and when she put her hand on the roots, they parted, opening the gate. She closed it behind her and walked slowly, letting the feel of actual freedom seep into her body. She stopped halfway to the little stone cottage that was still standing, though the ivy and honeysuckle had grown to cover the walls and roof, and she took her shoes off.
The wound from her toe was swollen and had started bleeding. She'd have to cauterize it again. But the feeling of earth under her feet made it feel like someone had taken a great weight off her chest. Nobody could sneak up on her, nobody knew anything about this place.
There was no electricity out here- it was hidden and warded a thousand different ways, and Mara was certain that nobody had even set foot here since she had left it for the last time. She'd take a closer look in the morning, but the garden was entirely out of control. The well smelled clean, though, so she travelled the last few feet to the door, brow furrowed as she opened the puzzle lock that her friend- probably the only human who had ever truly loved her- had built into the door.
The smell that hit her when she walked in stole her breath, chest tight as memories tried to take over. But that Mara was gone, had been gone for centuries, and this Mara was not that same, weak girl. She didn't cry. She didn't fear.
This Mara had nothing left to lose.
She found her old candles, setting one in a hurricane lamp to give herself some light.
It had held up better than she thought. Even the dust wasn't very thick. No rodents or insects anywhere, and her cedar closet was still clean, the dresses inside fresh and soft. Everything had been soft then, when the hypersensitivity was at it's peak and everything hurt her. It still took over occasionally, but Mara liked to imagine herself as scar tissue. Tough, impenetrable. Maybe not pretty and loved but something built for survival.
She unpacked her bag, folding the clothes to rest on shelves in the cedar closet, keeping the knife, gun and phone out as she grabbed a rag, dusting off the rocking chair and sitting, carefully unwrapping her foot.
Too much running. She'd have to cauterize again. She'd get stupid if she lost too much blood.
Sighing, she flipped open the knife, letting the fire flow from her fingertips over the blade. She clenched her jaw and shoved the flat of the blade against the bleeding wound, holding it there as long as she could and putting the knife back down with shaking hands.
Trembling, she put her foot up on the table, rocking. She had no booze; an egregious oversight.
Picking up her phone, she called Duke.
"Hello?"
"Miss me, lover?"
There was dead silence for several seconds and she laughed. "Ouch, don't tell me you've forgotten me already... again. Mara, you know, from- oh, your whole life, really."
His voice was quiet and restrained. "What have you done?"
"Oh, not home yet? Pick up some milk. We're all out. You can call me later. I'll always answer for you, Duke. Because I love you." She hung up with a shaky breath, deciding to see if her tub still worked. They hadn't had indoor plumbing back then, but she'd dug and tiled a trench from a freshwater spring, setting it to run through the fireplace, heating water as the bathtub filled. She'd cheated a little for the toilet, a bit of technology from home set up in the bathing room. It was better by far than an outhouse.
She limped outside to get wood, building a roaring fire to chase the chill of shock from her bones. When the trench was hot enough, she pulled the lever that let the water flow, the screens keeping dirt and debris from the water. As it filled, Mara looked through her drawers and cabinets, finding several bars of her own handmade soap, settling into the tub and leaving her mutilated foot to rest outside the water.
After his fight with Mara, after he'd almost hit her, Duke considered going to the Gull, but he didn't want to work and he really didn't want to talk to anyone.
He really had nowhere else to go.
He pulled off the road and sat, trying to meditate and breathe and just stop feeling so fucking angry. He was furious, maybe more than he'd ever been in his life, and that was saying something.
It was one thing when he'd gotten the job of watching Mara. His place made the most sense, and he sure as hell didn't trust the Guard not to hurt her. He wanted to say it was just because they didn't know if she was connected to Audrey, but in truth the thought just pissed him off. You don't hit girls, no matter how pissed you are.
He'd almost hit her earlier. Usually her caustic attitude didn't bother him. It was one of the ways he could remind himself that Audrey was safe and free again.
But under all that scorn she had a way of saying exactly what he said in his own head, the thoughts he didn't talk about. Lack of respect. Wade's weakness. Most days it seemed like she understood him better than he understood himself, and he wondered what the hell that said about him.
So he'd almost hit her. It had been so, so close. But as he looked at her eyes a memory, something he had never even seen before, had popped into his head. Him, back when he'd been a kid. A woman had her arms crossed protectively over Duke's chest, holding him back against her body. She wasn't big or heavy, nowhere near the size of his dad, but Simon had been about to hit Duke and she moved faster than a snake, hovering over Duke and daring Simon to hit her. Hell, he could even hear her voice.
"You want to hit someone, Simon? You want to hit someone smaller than you so you can feel like a big, tough guy? Try me. I dare you. Hit me, you goddamned coward!"
Lucy'd protected Duke. She told him to go, to run to the safe place- their secret code for Nathan's house- and pushed him at the door. He'd run out the door, but stood next to it, listening and afraid for Lucy. She was still trying to keep Simon distracted, to give Duke time to flee, but he couldn't just leave.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Simon? He's a little boy, and he's a good kid! You should be glad he speaks his mind, glad he's smart enough to question the 'Haven Party Line'. You should be thrilled that he's not a mindless sheep, like one of Driscoll's followers. But you treat him like shit and you fucking beat on him? No. That ends today. You won't hurt Duke again as long as I'm here. He deserves better. He's better than you, Simon. Next time you feel like hitting someone smaller than you, you come for me."
He'd remembered being shocked, and then grateful and excited and so fucking hopeful.
Then he heard the hit, fist striking flesh, the awful crack. He'd opened the door just a crack to see what was happening. It took Lucy a moment to straighten, one hand on her face, blood seeping through her fingers.
"You get one. One free hit, Simon. If you hit me again, you're going to cross a line you can't uncross."
But his dad hit her again, and then they were fighting, Lucy so fast, hitting and trying to go for the door, trying to get away. But Simon grabbed her hair- she always wore it loose then- and he was bigger and stronger and he threw her on the floor. She scrambled to get away but froze when she spotted Duke's eye staring at her.
That moment of hesitation was all Simon needed, and this time when Lucy screamed "go" Duke ran. He ran sobbing like a child all the way to Nate's house, banging on the front door. When Garland answered, Duke begged hysterically for him to come, the tears choking him until all he could say was "Lucy, my dad, hitting her".
Garland was already grabbing his gun and keys. "At the boat?"
Duke nodded, running after Garland. "Take me with you! I have to know she's okay!"
If Garland refused, Duke would just follow anyway. Garland knew that. "You stay in this car no matter what you hear, do you understand me?" Duke was already climbing into the car, nodding.
Duke had run the whole five miles, and Garland raced through the streets, but how long had it been since he'd left her? 25 minutes? More? If Lucy was hurt or dead because she'd been trying to protect Duke, he didn't think he could live with that. His small hands clutched the dashboard as they neared the boat and Garland jumped out the second the car was in 'park', running for the boat.
Duke had sat still, eyes searching for any trace of movement, and he let out a great breath when he saw Garland leading Lucy out, a blanket over her shoulders. He jumped out of the car and ran for her, and she froze when she saw him, shooting Garland a strange, panicked look and shrugging off the blanket, hugging Duke when he threw himself at her. She looked so different. The sweater and turtleneck she'd been wearing were gone, replaced by Garland's button up, she was all cut up, bloody and bruised and Duke felt sick about it.
The real difference was her eyes, though. The face and smile she forced for him were the same but her eyes showed a different person. The color didn't change, but it felt like he could see fire in her eyes, a spark. Something old and experienced and alive, and he had known immediately that Lucy was different, that maybe she'd found one of the answers she'd been looking for.
He wasn't sure how bad she was hurt; she stood straight and kept her arm around Duke's shoulders but when she moved, she seemed stiff and slow, limping. Duke heard Garland talking about 'pressing charges' and Lucy/NotLucy gazed down at Duke for a moment, eyes soft with love and uncertainty. He saw the second she made whatever decision she'd been fighting with, and she looked back up at Garland.
"No. No charges. You don't keep a rabid dog kenneled. I'll handle it myself."
The whole scene had flashed through his eyes in an instant, and he froze, seeing himself in Simon's role. Fist raised, he realized who he'd seen in Lucy's eyes.
And he was not his father.
Sitting in the Land Rover, examining his old, hidden memory, Duke wondered exactly what had happened when he'd run. Exactly when had Mara woken? When had she taken over? Had Lucy taken that beating for him or had Mara?
Was there really a difference? So far none of the personalities seemed to exist separate from Mara except Audrey. Audrey hadn't heard anyone else when she was inside Mara.
Duke sighed, turning back for the Rouge. He could hear her ranting as he moved quietly around the kitchen, making soup. It was stupid and childish, but he'd gotten some petty satistfaction from watching her choose not to eat rather than just tell him she wouldn't eat meat. He'd been sure she'd crack, absolutely positive. But here he was making mushroom soup, listening to Mara's drunken ranting.
While the soup simmered, Duke sat against the door so he could hear her better. As he listened to her, Duke was disturbed to realize they really hadn't asked her much. They'd listened to William and Vince and Dave, and the more they talked down to her, the more Mara reacted. It made him wonder what it was like to be her, left alone in a world with nobody to speak for you and nobody willing to listen.
When he heard her crying, still ranting through the harsh sobbing, his own chest felt tight. Monsters didn't cry, did they? Could any of what she was saying be true? So much didn't make sense, but had her mother been forcing her to produce children just for what, research?
And then after all the switched gears she was talking about Garland. Saying that Garland had known her, talked to her. That Garland had trusted her to help Nate.
Duke sat motionless, listening to her sing one of his favorite songs, and he leaned his head back against the wall, letting tears leak back into his hair.
What the hell was she?
When he brought her food, he sat with her, watching her eat happily and wishing he'd been a little nicer about the food thing. He asked questions, trying to get her to talk to him about all the things she said, but instead of just telling him she was miserable, she acted completely normal, even joking about it, like she was the same monster they'd been treating her as. It was like she was incapable of asking for help. Her refusal to wear clothes just amused him. Who was he to turn down a free show?
Then suddenly she was kissing him, and he was kissing her, but it didn't feel like a first kiss. This felt like Colorado.
How long had she been awake? Who had he been kissing?
He put her back in her chair, refusing to give in to her games, her little seduction. It was almost cute, enjoyable.
Then she'd said those words. That he had always been able to tell her from the others, and he saw that memory again, certain that it had been Mara who'd fought his dad while Duke ran. He felt sick and scared and guilty, and then he was angry. That she knew his dreams- that the dreams had somehow been real- that she somehow knew him better than he knew himself. It stirred him to action. He wanted to get some control back, to show her she couldn't just manipulate him.
So he had taken her, hadn't even taken his shoes off. Fucked her like it meant nothing. He'd made her scream and beg, and still she held him against her with her free arm, telling him she loved him as he came inside her.
And then she'd kissed him. Like what he'd done wasn't despicable, wasn't low and cheap. Like he wasn't Simon.
He'd hated himself so much at that moment, all he could do was pull up his pants and leave, still hearing the words 'Because I love you' over and over, repeating in his head like an accusation.
He left the Rouge, heading for the Gull. The storm was getting worse, almost like it was reacting to all the upheaval on the boat.
He turned on the radio and swore it was mocking him.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
It's not warm when she's away
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And she's always gone too long
Anytime she goes away
Wonder this time where she's gone
Wonder if she's gone to stay
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And this house just ain't no home
Anytime she goes away
And I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know,
Hey, I oughtta leave young thing alone
But ain't no sunshine when she's gone
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
Only darkness every day
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And this house just ain't no home
Anytime she goes away
Anytime she goes away
Anytime she goes away
Anytime she goes away
He grabbed a whiskey from the bar and went out back to stare at the water, berating himself. He was letting her get in his head. So maybe she'd been awake during Lucy's time. Maybe that's why nobody remembered much. It didn't change the things she'd done. That she'd threatened to kill Audrey, that she'd shot Nate. Mara had done plenty of evil herself.
His phone rang as he watched the storm over the water, a number he didn't recognize, but the voice that called him 'lover', that voice was something he couldn't forget no matter how hard he tried. The minute she hung up, he was on his feet, running for his truck.
She'd run.
In the quiet, back in her first real home, the place she'd built herself, Mara felt the first stirrings of peace. Her face and body relaxed, both smirk and scowl replaced by exhaustion. She felt sick and hurting and quite frankly dirty. Yes, she'd known there was a chance that Duke would drag her memory through the mud, but the foolish part of herself that she'd never fully squashed had still hoped.
Like they said, there was no fool like an old fool.
She was starting to doze, the hot water relaxing her muscles, when the phone rang. She didn't bother to look as she answered.
"Hello, Duke. How gentlemanly of you to call so soon."
"Mara, where in fuck are you?"
"Haven, of course. I'm close. Don't bother tracing the phone, it won't work. Why? You miss me?"
His voice was angry, she could feel the fury rolling off of him. "Why the fuck is there blood on the floor? Why are there fucking bloody bolt cutters next to your chair?"
She yawned, stretching. "I had a hangnail and you didn't leave me a manicure set. I did my best with what I had."
"Goddamnit, Mara, how bad are you hurt?"
"Well, I've got a nasty splinter in my ass and my feelings are a little hurt. Just a little, though. I'm naked, you know. If I close my eyes, I can still feel you inside me."
Sex as a weapon. The gift that evened the playing field between men and women.
Too bad it never seemed to work on Duke. Not unless he thought she was Audrey or Lucy. She sighed, rubbing the soap over her skin with her free hand.
"Who were you talking to when you were getting drunk, Mara?"
She froze, struggling to keep her voice light. "It's impolite to eavesdrop. I thought you were at the Gull."
"I never exactly said that. I was making your soup. You said something's wrong with Audrey?"
"Oh, of course, what was I thinking? It's Audrey you're interested in. Well, what do you want to know?"
She kept her tone light, but she was seething and humiliated. How much had he heard? Good gods, had he heard her when she was pretending he was touching her?
"It's not like you're thinking. I heard you say she was going to get sick but you didn't want to say anything because we wouldn't believe you. Tell me what's wrong. I'm listening, I swear."
Of course he was listening. It was about Audrey, he'd listen to anything for her. Probably wouldn't believe until she got actually sick, but he'd listen.
Mara fought to keep her voice even, sinking further into the bath as she did, putting the soap on it's dish and flicking her hand through the water.
"The Trouble you used to rip her out of me was meant for humans, not people like me. She may look and act human, but she's not, not any more than me. I could tell when I saw her- Nathan can't feel her anymore, right?"
Duke was quiet and she fought the urge to snap at him.
"Whatever, you're not exactly giving away trade secrets. But watch. She'll get paler, washed out. She'll be cold and she'll cough, she'll shake. She's in withdrawal. Except the withdrawal she's having won't pass. It'll only get worse until she gets healed or dies."
She heard Duke catch his breath, the shocked, scared inhalation. It was stupid- ridiculous- but it pissed her off. She was jealous. Audrey had existed less than five years, but she had people willing to throw their lives down for her. Mara had taken care of this backwards town for over 600 years and people just hated her.
Whatever. She'd been warned. So her mother was right. Even a broken clock was right twice a day.
"What do we have to do?"
Oh, now the chivalry. 'What can I do for Audrey today?' Mara wanted more pain, just to stop the twisting in her gut.
"You don't do anything. I'm the only one who can save her now."
There was a muted thud, like he'd dropped his head to a table, and his voice was totally controlled- obviously trying not to snap at Mara even though be clearly wanted to.
"What do you want, Mara?"
Those four words- four words again, it seemed like a sign, all bad things happened in four-word sentences. 'Because I love you', 'what do you want', 'hit me, you coward', 'the Hunter is coming'- They always meant pain for Mara.
"Screw you, Duke. I didn't ask for anything. I didn't say anything because you people think you know everything and you wouldn't have believed me. Still wouldn't believe me if you didn't already know he couldn't feel her! Sanctimonious, self-righteous ass! What have I ever asked for from you? Nothing! Gods, I wish I had let Garland tell you about me!"
Oh shit. She was still working off the alcohol and her anger, humiliation and pain, both mental and physical, had made her run her mouth. She decided to just plow through and hope he was so concerned about Blondie that he'd missed her slip.
"She's having Aether withdrawal. She's physically dependent on it. I'll fix her, I was already going to fix her, but I need some things to do it."
"You want the Aether."
She got control of her voice, dropping back to the low, mocking tone that always made them look afraid. Control and precision in a languorous drawl. "You're an ass and an idiot. The Aether isn't for me, Duke. Want proof? Go look at the blood in my cell. Go ahead, I'll wait."
Her throat was tight and her eyes pricked uncomfortably. It must be dustier that she had thought.
"Why is it black, Mara?"
"Because I'm made of Aether, Duke. If I had needed Aether that desperately, I could have done it ages ago. When she's ready to accept my help, I'll fix her, and you, and then you can all fuck right off and leave me alone." She made it sound like skipping off merrily into the woods, her fingers dancing over the water like a man running, the drip of the water made her shiver.
Sometimes the smallest sounds, like the drip of water, were what affected her most. She still remembered the absolute silence she'd lived in for so long, and sound was more private to her than her own body. Sound was still exotic to her, it had been total and unassailable.
"You could have done what, Mara? How are you hurt?"
"Why do you care? I cut off a toe. They're not that useful anyway, and I happen to have extras. Don't worry, I already knew it wouldn't hurt Audrey. I understand that kind of bond better than you people do."
"You... cut off your toe with bolt cutters just to get out of here? To get away from me?" He sounded sick and horrified, and for a moment her heart hurt for him. She stared at the water, wet hair swept back from her face, thick black line around her eyes still as precise as ever- Why buy makeup when she could just control the natural black of the Aether?- and her voice went low and quiet, confessing.
"Not to get away from you. I could have left whenever I wanted to. I thought you'd figured that out. Look on the crate, I left you a present." Why was her voice so rough and scratchy? The dust really was the only logical explanation.
"You made this? It's beautiful."
"Yeah, I made it. Talk to Audrey, I'll fix her, but I swear if you try to trap me or drug me or shock me..."
"Come back, Mara."
She laughed loudly, the sound painful even to her own ears. "Why would I do that? No. You have my number."
"But where are you? There wasn't enough in my wallet for you to get a place to stay. If you bought the phone, there's not even enough for food!"
Her eyes slipped closed and she let herself imagine that it was honest concern for her- almost fear, even- that she heard in his voice.
"I barely eat anyway. Until today, all I've eaten is garnish. You already know this, you've obviously known for a long time- hence all the meat. You just wanted me to beg. But I don't beg. I don't eat meat, Duke. Food isn't a priority for me anymore. Hasn't been for a long time. Thanks for that."
"Mara please, tell me where you are. I'm sorry, I was an asshole, I'm sorry."
"I can't stay on the phone, Duke. I don't have electricity, I can't charge it. If you still want to talk to me, I'll stop by after you go to sleep. The shit between us doesn't matter. Audrey is practically an infant. I'm not a baby-killer, despite what you think of me. I have to go. Call if you actually need me."
She hung up before he could argue further, putting the phone down and climbing awkwardly from the tub, letting the water out.
She really wished she'd thought to steal pain meds from someone.
She dried quickly and after making sure the cedar closet really was vermin and dust-free, she put on one of her old dresses. It still fit, and the soft familiarity of it made her feel better. She stopped, skipping her fingers over the stones in the wall above her hope chest, pressing the last stone and exhaling as a drawer slid out, presenting more beloved treasures, The leather sash was nice, but next to that lay an elegant dagger, all shining gold, hilt and sheath inlaid with citrine and ruby, what William had always called 'her colors', as Mara slid those on, she slid one more more clip that attached to a pouch of orbs that had nestled against her dagger. She smiled as she tied the sash. Mara had never been without her weapons, William had seen to that.
After using what she'd stolen from Audrey to bandage her foot, she laid a thick comforter on the old sleeping mat on the floor, pulling out an extra to cover herself. She put the phone and gun next to her on the floor and breathed deeply, fighting the tears as she finally fell asleep.