Page 7 of Unnatural (Men and Monsters #2)

A moan rose around her as her eyelids slowly opened.

Groggy. Hazy. The groan had come from her own lips.

She blinked, trying desperately to bring the world into focus.

The dream. I’m in the dream. Despite the jolt of excitement, her limbs felt so heavy, and she didn’t want to move.

But she heard rustling in the trees around her, and her skin prickled, her heart picking up speed. Run. Hide.

She cried out softly as she pulled herself to her knees, head swimming, world tilting. Oh God, she hated this feeling. She felt sick again as the drugs swirled in her system, weighing her down, making her feel bleary and foggy and weak.

You wanted to be here, didn’t you?

Yes. No. Not like this.

In only a short time, she’d become used to feeling in control of her body, and suddenly she was not. She felt scared and frustrated, completely and utterly out of sorts. And she was sitting in a bed of pine needles in the middle of the woods. I want to be back in my bed.

She had a flash of memory, or what she thought was memory. Movement. The squeak of wheels. Was I in a wheelchair?

She reached behind her back, feeling the lump of her soft-covered journal.

She’d put on a tight pair of shorts beneath her nightgown and stuck it in the waistband before bed.

If she had been moved by wheelchair, whoever had done the moving hadn’t felt it.

It remained where she’d hidden it just before she’d slipped under.

She could hardly remember why she’d done it now.

To sketch your surroundings. To write things down you might not remember when you wake.

Yes, right. It’d seemed a good idea at the time.

She squinted, trying to focus her foggy mind, but before she could attempt to dredge up anything else about possibly being dumped out here in these woods, she heard something large coming through the foliage.

Something that was making no effort to disguise the noise of its arrival.

The sudden gallop of her heart spurred Autumn to her feet, and then she leaned on the trunk of a tree for a moment as the world stopped spinning and she got her bearings.

This is the part where you run. Where you hide.

She pulled in a breath and turned her head as she searched her surroundings.

She was still groggy, and it took her a minute to take stock.

A few skinny trees, a small rock. Nothing.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins and brought her more clearly into the present.

She was still drugged, but she didn’t feel like she’d always felt in this dream before.

This dream that is no dream.

The sound of movement drew closer, a branch snapping, feet hitting the ground.

With a small huff of breath, Autumn sank back to her knees, picking up a nearby stick and using it to dig in the soft, damp earth.

Her breath came harshly, sweat breaking out on her skin as she dug as long as she dared before coming to her knees and pulling a pile of leaves and pine needles into her hole.

The thing approaching drew closer, louder. That was no animal.

Was it him ?

Who else could it possibly be?

With a quick sweep of her arm to make the ground look as undisturbed as possible, Autumn came to her feet. Her breath sawed in and out of her chest as she waited…waited, until the person appeared through the trees. Tall. Muscular. Moonlight hair.

Both fear and excitement tumbled through her, and with a small squeal born of the intoxicating mix of emotions, Autumn turned and ran, sprinting like she never had before.

There was a moment’s pause, and then she heard him give chase.

She dipped behind a tree and swerved around another, finding her coordination, her legs pumping with her newfound strength, muscles burning, but deliciously this time. Miraculously.

She raced through the forest as she’d done so many times before, the moon full and bright above. Before , she’d only had the energy to hide, barely crawling into a log or behind a tree, curling into the fetal position, and waiting to die.

But she was strong now. She could run! And even after she’d taken a small amount of medication just hours before.

She laughed with delight, rounding a rock and doubling back.

She plastered her back to the large expanse of stone, waiting for a beat, two, until she could hear that he was almost upon her where she “hid,” and then with a cry of triumph, she sprang out.

Her moonlight boy let out a raspy sound of surprise and skidded, flailing his arms to right himself and coming to a jerky stop. His expression was half shock, half rage, solid white teeth bared, one brow raised, and one brow lowered in a way that was almost comical.

Almost.

They stood mere feet apart, his bare, scarred chest rising and falling in tandem with hers.

The bolt in his head was gone, but in its place was a shaved patch of hair, the skin there red and raw.

Their gazes locked, and Autumn suddenly felt angry too.

All this time, he’d been chasing her to terrify her.

Her, in a drugged, half-awake state! How dare he? Wasn’t her life hard enough as it was?

Her gaze narrowed, lip curling. The boy cocked his head, a wary light entering his dark eyes as he watched her.

She lunged at him and then away. Startled, he stepped back, a surprised bark of laughter coming from his throat.

A low growl that she had to admit sounded less fierce than she’d gone for emanated from her chest. Despite the lack of menace in the sound, his laughter fizzled, and then she lunged for real as he stumbled backward, an expression that was purely incredulous on his face before he turned and ran.

She chased him this time, and she swore she heard his laughter floating back to her on the wind.

She was still a little groggy, but she also felt fearless, because why not ?

What on earth did she really have to lose?

Her life? Ha! That would be gone soon enough.

She leaped over a rock, skidding on a patch of soggy leaves, grabbing hold of a tree trunk, and coming to a sudden though slippery stop as he turned this time, amusement dancing over his features as he lunged at her and then away as she’d done to him.

Indignation exploded within her. He wanted to toy with her?

Okay then. She bounced once on the balls of her heavy, sock-clad feet before pushing off the tree, turning and running again.

He gave chase, and even though she was pushing her body to its limits, sweat dripping down her forehead and stinging her eyes, her lips curved in a satisfied smile before a puff of breath disturbed it.

She tried to orient herself, worked to remember where she’d started, and led him back that way.

Her lungs were burning, muscles screaming.

She was infinitely stronger than she’d been just a month ago, but she was still weak by most standards.

And certainly much weaker than the boy hot on her heels.

There. She spotted it ahead. The formation of the trees she’d woken to, the ones that had been right in front of her as she’d sat up, rubbing her head groggily, feeling for the journal she’d hidden in the back of her shorts.

My journal! She started to reach for it, but she could feel it wasn’t there.

No! She didn’t have time to worry about that right now though.

Her gaze shot to the ground. Is that the spot?

I think so. Yes. He’d sped up, and she felt the warmth of his body directly behind her, heard his exhale, the brush of his fingers…

With her final burst of effort, she leaped over the hole she’d dug and covered, crying out as she hit the ground but twisting around and watching as he stepped right into it, his ankle twisting as he pitched forward.

She squealed, falling backward, raising her hands defensively as he fell.

He let out a monstrous grunt and caught himself with his arms just before his full weight slammed on top of her.

Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been the most well-thought-out plan.

Their faces were mere inches apart, exhales mingling as they breathed harshly together, eyes wide and staring.

He looked utterly shocked. Time slowed and seemed to stop.

His indigo eyes were a hint lighter in the center and almost black around the outside, and from this close vantage point, she could see tiny gold flecks.

Fascinating. He shifted minutely, and she became aware of the size and weight of him.

Eyes still held, she reached up and plucked a hair from his head.

He let out a confused grunt but remained where he was, raising his chin minutely and taking in a small inhale with his nose. “You’re better,” he said, his voice raspy.

Her eyes widened, and so did his, his gaze flicking toward her mouth and then away.

He speaks. Had she thought he didn’t? Well, yes…

because she’d thought him nothing but a dream.

But he was no dream. She was sure of it now.

She could see him, feel him, smell his nighttime-scented skin.

He could smother her beneath him if he wanted.

But she didn’t think he wanted to do that because… well, he wasn’t doing that.

“You protected me last time,” she said. “From what? You could have hurt me, and you didn’t.”

Her words seemed to pull him from some hypnotic state, and he shivered slightly, pushing up off her. “Them,” he murmured. “The others.”

She sat up, looking at the silvery hair held between her fingers. “Others? Who are you?”

He was turned halfway away, looking into the woods. She twisted the hair around her index finger and then stuck it under her tongue, the only place she could think to hide it if in fact someone was cleaning her, redressing her, and returning her to her bed as she suspected they were.

A loud scream pierced the still night, and she jerked in the direction from which it came, opening her mouth to ask if he knew what was happening, when she saw a blur between the trees, moving swiftly toward her.

She leaped to her feet, stretching her arms out defensively as the human shape barreled forward. She heard a growl and a yell. She thought she screamed before the impact. Before all went dark.

***

Autumn woke in her bed, the “dream” rushing back. She blinked, swallowed, tried to organize her thoughts as she sat up.

The door opened, and a humming Genie walked in. “Good morning. You slept in.”

Autumn glanced at the clock. Nine a.m. She never slept that late. Of course, her aching body had always woken her before, not just in the morning but all through the night. She tested her limbs. Slightly achy, but in the same way they were after she’d run the stairs.

“Good thing it’s Saturday,” Genie said, smiling and handing her the first cup of medication.

Autumn glanced down. She was in her blue-and-pink-striped nightgown, the same one she’d gone to sleep in.

And she still wore the thick, white socks with treads on the bottom that kept her perpetually cold feet warm.

She tilted her head and sniffed. Her nightgown smelled like laundry detergent, and she could detect the clean scent of soap on her skin.

It was amazing how much sharper all her senses were since she’d stopped taking the pills.

She turned her hand over, peering at her fingernails.

No dirt. Not a speck. They hadn’t missed any this time.

Who are they? She worked to keep the suspicion from her gaze as she looked at Genie, turning her thoughts away from the onslaught of questions attempting to invade her mind. For now. Just for now.

Indigo eyes with gold flecks. A voice like sandpaper and silk.

Autumn palmed the pills and then the others, faking the sip of water.

“Oh dear,” Genie said, frowning as she pulled the neckline of Autumn’s nightgown aside.

She reached for her chart and jotted something down.

“You’re bruising again. I thought the switch in brands of blood thinner got that under control.

” She set the chart down on Autumn’s bedside table.

“Well, we’ll see if he wants to revisit things, because that’s a nasty bruise,” she said, giving Autumn’s collarbone another glance.

Genie’s gaze shifted away. “Autumn,” she started.

“No,” Autumn whispered, shaking her head, denying what she knew was coming. She’d heard that tone in Genie’s voice. Too many times. Far too many times.

“Mara passed last night, love. I’m so sorry.”

Autumn squeezed her eyes shut. Oh, Mara.

Genie put her hand on Autumn’s leg, giving it a small pat before she stood. “Would you like me to stay while you get washed up?”

Autumn gave her head a small shake, attempting to muster the semblance of a smile for Genie. “No,” she said, “I’ll be okay.”

Genie hesitated another moment, her expression sad and a little worried but not overly. They’d traveled this road before. They’d all be all right. And then they’d go down it again. Before it was Autumn’s turn.

Genie went into the bathroom, and Autumn heard her refilling some items. Autumn focused on her breath for a few moments, saying a silent prayer for sweet Mara. “Run, Mara,” she said, picturing her friend racing on strong, healthy legs toward the pearly gates.

Recalling the impact in the woods, the one that had slammed into her shoulder, knocking her to the ground, she gingerly touched the back of her head. It felt tender to the touch, and there was a small lump under her hair.

If her body had ached the way it once had, she wouldn’t have even noticed such a thing among so many other pains, some of which were far greater.

Genie came out of the bathroom, giving her a gentle smile. “Just buzz if you need me for anything, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Genie.”

As soon as the door had shut behind her, Autumn reached in her mouth, swiping her finger under her tongue. There it sat on the tip of her finger: a wet, balled piece of silvery hair.