ALLIANCE
The guards dropped off my lunch at one. When they opened the door to leave, I sneaked in a peek into the hallway. Tess wasn't there. Lunchtime for everyone. Good. While Bauer was lucid and no one was listening in, I could broach the subject of escape with her. Was it safe? She could try to garner favor with Matasumi by selling me out, but I doubted she was desperate enough to grovel. Not yet. Besides, given her circumstances and animosity toward me, no one would believe her if she did tattle.
Listening for telltale noises from the hall, I moved my chair close to the hole, sat, and peered through. Bauer was pacing.
"Feeling any better?" I asked.
She kept pacing.
"I don't want to make things worse," I said. "But you know they won't let you out of that cell. To them, you've switched sides."
Pace to the door, to the TV, back to the door.
"If you want out, you'll have to get yourself out."
Still no response. Not so much as an eye flicker in my direction.
"You have to escape," I said.
Bauer wheeled on me. "Escape?" A harsh laugh. "To what? Life as a monster?"
I could have reminded her who chose that monstrous life, but I didn't. "I know it's bad now, but it'll get easier-"
"I don't want it to get easier! "she snarled, striding toward the hole. "I want it gone! That's what I want them to do for me. Get rid of it. Suck this curse from my veins and make me normal again."
"They can't do that," I said softly. "Nobody can do that."
"Bullshit!" Spittle flew from her lips. "You want me to suffer, don't you? You're enjoying this. 'Sondra got what she deserved.' Ha-ha-ha. Well, I didn't deserve this. You never said it would be like this. You tricked me!"
"Tricked you? I warned you not to do it."
"You didn't tell me everything."
"Oh, well, excuse me. When you barged in here like a madwoman waving a syringe and ranting about starting an exciting new life, I should have whipped out my handy 'So You Wanna Be a Werewolf' disclaimer form and made you sign on the dotted line."
Bauer grabbed a chair, hurled it at the hole, then stomped into the bathroom.
I had to work on my approach.
A few hours later, Bauer's sanity made another guest appearance. I was ready. Plan two: Be more empathetic. While I found it hard to work up much sympathy for someone who'd done this to herself, somewhere deep in me there was a faint, fluttering urge to empathize. Bauer was another female werewolf, likely the only one I'd ever meet. Remembering the horror of my own transformation, I understood what she was going through. Winsloe had asked if I'd ever done anything like Bauer did to Carmichael. My reply hadn't been entirely honest. Back when I'd escaped from Stonehaven, my already demon-plagued brain had plummeted into uncontrolled madness and rage. I'd killed two people before Jeremy rescued me. Unlike what Bauer had done with Carmichael, I hadn't known my victims and I hadn't tormented them or torn them to pieces. Yet I had done one thing I would never forget. I'd eaten my victims. Was I that different from Bauer? I hadn't shot myself up with werewolf spittle, but I'd fallen in love with a man I suspected was dangerous. I hadn't killed a friend, but I had killed innocent people. As much as I resisted, I understood Bauer. And I wanted to empathize.
The question was: Could I empathize? As my awkward episode consoling Savannah had proven, I was not a naturally empathic person. Pushing past my doubts, I stationed myself by the hole and looked into Bauer's cell.
"How're you doing?" I asked.
Bauer spun to face me. "How the fuck do you think I'm doing?" She inhaled sharply, eyes closing as if in pain. "This isn't me. This body, this personality. It's not me. I don't use this language. I don't throw tantrums. I don't plead for my life. But do you know what's worse? I'm still here, trapped inside, looking out."
"Your brain is still accepting the transformation. It'll get-"
"Don't tell me it'll get easier."
I knew what I had to say, what I had to share, but the words caught in my chest. Biting back my pride, I forced them out.
"When I was first bitten, I-"
"Don't."
"I just wanted to say-"
"Don't compare yourself to me, Elena. We have nothing in common. If I gave you that impression before, it was only because I wanted something from you."
"Maybe so, but we have something in common now. I'm-"
Her voice went cold. "You're nothing, Elena. A nobody who became a somebody by accident. Becoming a werewolf was the defining accomplishment in your life, and you didn't even take a hand in it. Your money, your youth, your strength, your position, your lover, they're all yours only because you were the only female werewolf."
"I-"
"Without that, what are you? A no-name part-time journalist whose annual salary wouldn't cover my wardrobe."
With that, she wheeled around, stomped into the bathroom, and started the shower.
You know, empathy really is a two-way street.
At seven the guards brought my dinner. As usual, one carried the tray while the other stood watch, gun at the ready. I ignored them, having given up hope of bringing a guard over to my side or gaining any valuable information from them. Best to treat them as deaf-mute waiters. I had other things to worry about.
When they came in, I was on my bed, thinking up escape plans. After a moment, I noticed the tray-bearing guard lingering at my table, looking at the photos of Clay. He nodded at his partner and nudged his attention to the pictures. "It's him," he mouthed.
"You know him?" I asked.
The guard started, as if the bed had spoken.
"You know him?" I repeated. "The wolf in the photos?"
Both men looked at me as if I'd joined Bauer in her private asylum, probably thinking I should be the one who'd recognize a werewolf, not them.
"Tyrone dropped those off," I said, still on my back, feigning all the nonchalance I could muster. "He figured I might be able to ID the guy, but I couldn't. Seems he caused some hoopla at a motel."
Now they were definitely looking at me like I was ready for a straitjacket.
"You don't recognize him?" the one by the door asked.
I stifled a half-yawn. "Should I?"
"Isn't this your mate?"
"Clay? No. He'd never leave the Alpha-our leader."
"Then why-" The guard stopped, turned to his partner and lowered his voice. "Does Matasumi know this?"
"Why?" the other guard said, not bothering to whisper. "It doesn't matter who the werewolf is. If anyone sees him around here again, we kill him. That's the order."
My hands clenched, but I forced myself not to make a noise, not to say a word, not to ask a question. The second guard shrugged, and they left without so much as a glance in my direction.
Clay was nearby. I'd been right. He was coming for me. I couldn't let him do that. There was too much he didn't know, too much he was unprepared for. Clay had bested Tucker's search party easily enough, but here there were at least five times as many guards, plus a fortified underground building with a top-notch security system, all surrounded by a forest laced with Ty Winsloe's traps. I had to stop Clay before he tried to rescue me. To do that, I needed to escape-fast. I glanced at Bauer's cage. Time to throw off the kid gloves.
It was nearly midnight before Bauer was lucid again. For the past two days, I'd been honing my ability to judge when someone was in the hall. Part of it was hearing, part of it was sensing. Though it was difficult to know if someone was watching us, there was a definitive way to tell if they were listening in. The intercom. When turned on, it gave an audible click, then hissed softly until someone turned it off. After Bauer regained her senses, I waited until the guards passed on their hourly tour, listened carefully for the intercom buzz, then reclined onto my bed.