Chapter 42: Trained For This

I crouch in the tree line on the near side of the Ukraine border and watch a jeep rumble past. This section used to be unguarded, the fence easy to climb. But someone has increased security. If we are to pass here, we must be very cautious.

Hungary lies on the other side. Perhaps I'd be smarter to use the Slovenian crossing. But we are here, now, and I must make a choice.

"Can we do it?" Sage's whisper carries to my ear, barely a breath of sound. He knows how to keep his voice down.

"I think so." I sit back on my haunches, looking up at the sky. It's almost dark again. I want to be over the border before Isabelle and Maks return. I know my werefriend will hunt us, though the travel on the train will hamper his task. Still, if we can reach Hungary, I can steal a car or hitch on another train and cover huge distance before they can figure out where we've gone.

The jeep pauses by the fence, two soldiers emerging with machine guns. One steps behind the vehicle and relieves himself, steam rising from his stream. I chew my lower lip as the second lights a cigarette, calls out a joke in Hungarian I barely understand, my translation skills rusty. His friend laughs. When they step back into the jeep and drive off, I exhale in relief.

Not a border patrol, per se. Just a quick look by a pair of soldiers. Our chances have just improved.

"Stay low," I say, slinking into the tall grass. Sage follows as I slip across the thirty feet to the fence and look around. Nothing, no cameras, no guards and the fence itself isn't electrified. In fact, it's rusting in places, easy enough to make a hole rather than being forced to scale it. With Sage's shoulder the way it is, I'm not sure he could climb.

The wire cutters are cold in my hand as I work on the fence. Sage stares in awe.

"Where did you get those?"

I shrug as the first links part with a soft twang in the dying light. "Stole them in the last town," I say.

Sage's frown hurts me.

"We're on the run," I say. "You wanted me to find a store and buy some?"

He hesitates and shakes his head at last. "Sorry," he says. "You're right. They're just cutters."

He has no idea this is going to be the least of our criminal activities. Though it's odd he cares I stole a pair of wire cutters when he's made no complaint about hitching free rides on train cars. I'll consider his skewed sense of morality later.

I slip through the hole I've made, careful not to catch my pack on the broken links. Sage joins me, deft and as sure as I am in movement. If I'm to run with anyone, he's an excellent choice, at least. If only his issues don't get in the way of our success.

We run toward the trees on the other side of the border, feet pounding a moment over the hard-packed concrete road. The rumble of a jeep engine returning pushes me harder, but we are safely inside the woods before the lights of the vehicle flash behind us. I keep running, exhilarated by the experience, knowing I shouldn't be enjoying myself. But the wolf in me loves this, the chase, even if she's the one being pursued and I can't help but embrace her enthusiasm.

This is how I'm meant to be, the life I'm supposed to live. I've been trained for this, to endure constant threat, the steady pressure of tension, the protective instincts to watch over the one I serve filling me with satisfaction. And no, Sage isn't exactly a bonded client. But it feels the same, in many ways.

How can I ever go back to living in a shining palace with everything done for me? I snort in my head as we run. I may never have to worry about that again, considering what I've done. Death could wait for me on my return. Or imprisonment. So my reticence over being queen of the werenation may be unfounded from here on in.

I shake my head. Oleksander won't let that happen. He'll find a way to stuff me into a coronation dress with a giant crown on my head and chain me to the throne with a weremate and a pack of whining cubs to continue the Moreau family line forever.

I'm grateful when lights sparkle ahead, needing the distraction from the morose image I've created of my future. The next town greets us, the sky now full dark. As we walk its streets to the other side, I realize there is no train station. I ponder our options as we circle around the outlying homes, though my mind is made up for me when the distant sound of a siren goes off, followed by the pressure of Enforcer magic coming closer.

A small house at the far end of town is dark and quiet. Their little car hunches in the driveway, just begging for an adventure of its own. Sage keeps pace with me, though he stops when I test the driver's side door and find it open. I'm already checking for keys when he hisses in my ear, looming in the opening like a thick shadow.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" I push him back. "Get in, and hurry up about it."

Sage moves slowly, more slowly than I'd like when a flip down of the visor rewards me with a key. It's an old Volvo, clunky and cranky, but the engine fires up the moment I turn the key and, fortunately, the house beside stays dark. If we can just get away before the owners wake...

Sage stands outside the passenger door, immobile once again. I lean sideways, fury firing my muscles, and push the door open. It slams into him before he can catch it.

"Get. In." I show him my wolf. He scrambles to obey as my eyes flare with power, though from the anguished expression on his face, he'd rather be anywhere than here. For that matter, so would I, but he just has to deal with it.

I drive away, moving slowly through the lower gears with the headlights dark, though I want to press the gas to the floor. The shift creaks a bit, but the car responds well and we're soon trundling down the road. I glance back, see the house behind is still cloaked in black and thank the Universe for our good fortune. Sage hugs his bag in the passenger's seat, scowling, looking straight ahead. I punch him lightly on the shoulder, only then remembering his wound and wincing as he flinches from the blow.

"Don't shut me out," I say. "Or judge me, Sage. Nothing matters to me, nothing but keeping you alive. And I will murder, steal and fight to the death to make sure you are okay. Is that understood?"

He doesn't respond at first, still rigid. I snap my teeth together at him, my wolf's irritation showing while I finally turn on the headlights and push down on the gas pedal.

"Fine," I say. "But I'll drag you, kicking and screaming, if I have to. Mark my words."

Sage exhales heavily and nods. "Thank you," he says, voice quiet. "But I can't help it, Charlotte. I'm not this kind of person."

And I am? Yes, I am. What does that make me to him? And mean for us?

He reaches out, takes my hand. "Don't think I'm not grateful," he says. "And I have no idea what kind of horrible life you've led that this is normal for you. Or possible."

I wish I could shake off the pity in his voice. I don't need or want it. "Be happy I'm who I am," I say. "Or you'd be dead already."

"I'm very grateful," he says, sitting back head turned to the passenger window. "But I wish it was different."

He's quiet a long time and I hold my peace, fighting for calm. This could turn into a fight, and we don't have time to argue. The last thing I need is to battle Sage every step when I'm just trying to save him.

Sage finally turns back to me, cheeks pink in the light of the dash. "So we're in Hungary," he says. His entire tone, being, scent, everything tells me he doesn't want to fight, either. I relax a little and nod.

"We have papers and money," I say. "We should be fine if we don't draw the attention of the Enforcers." And the hunting werewolves. I know Caine must be still seeking us, too. "We'll ditch this car in a few hours and find another train to take us to Switzerland." I add another layer of muffling to the shields I've built, the reminder all I need to add to our magic protections. It feels odd to suppress my power. I spent so many years out of control, when I was still a slave of the Black Souls. Syd's gift has been incredible, but this trip down memory lane makes me nervous.

"Charlie," Sage says, voice soft and careful. "I barely know anything about you, and I'm only just now realizing it."

Why does he have to bring this up? "Not much to tell," I say, hoping my gruff tone will shut him down.

No such luck. Sage is relentless when he wants something, though, as usual, he's gentle about it. "Your grandfather," he says, "the king. He wasn't always a king, was he?"

How does he know anything? I told him a bit when I explained his situation, but nothing of our past as a werenation.

"It doesn't matter," I say.

"It does to me." Sage's hands tighten on the straps of his bag, still perched in his lap as though he's ready to run at any second, moving car or not. "A lot."

Sage's jaw tightens. I catch his stubborn reaction out of the corner of my eye and scowl right back. "When you're safe," I say, doing my best to keep my mind from exploring my past on its own. "We'll talk and I'll tell you what I can."

He draws a breath and I know he's going to argue. We're going to fight after all. But no. He turns away again.

"Fine," he says. "I'm holding you to that."

We drive on into the quiet darkness while I dread that distant conversation and vow to find a way to hide everything I've been through from him if it's the last thing I do.



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