Huntress Ch 05

This is kind of a slow chapter. But thanks for those of you who have stuck around thus far.

Sage became aware of her surrounding before she opened her eyes. Beneath her, a soft mattress conformed comfortably to her body, hugging her. Above her, a throw comforter completed the embrace, leaving her body feeling content and warm. Safe. The pillow beneath her head felt like a cloud against her ear. The air was lightly scented, tickling her nose with the earthy smell of fresh rain and deep forest.

Behind her closed eyes, she could almost feel the silence humming around her. On her skin, prickling her like little alarming needles, and in her ears. She was careful to keep her breathing at the same speed and depth that it had been when she had been sleeping. The sound of her lungs inflating filled her ears, and she gathered her thoughts. It was far too quiet for her to be at home with the other girls. All of the girl's slept at different times, and even when the majority of them slept, Regan stayed awake, silently keeping an eye on the house. She waited another stretched minute before concluding,

yeah, this isn't home.

But where was she?

Sage searched behind her eyelids, trying to remember how she had ended up in a foreign bed and home.

Edgar. Annoying vamp with a staring problem. The hands around my throat. Hands that weren't really there.

Someone. Something had tried to kill her. And based on her previous memories, she had though it had succeeded. But she wasn't dead. Was she?

Was heaven really pine scented?

Sage allowed her eyes to slit open.

Through the thin lines of her eye lashes, she saw that heaven was a dimly lit, cherry wood paneled room. Post modern furniture, made with more metal than leather and a few abstract paintings were littered sparsely around the room, giving the area an appearance of having more space than it actually had. At the far wall, gray and black curtains decorated what she could only assume was a window. No light pierced through the sporadic openings on the sides. It was night.

Sage lay still contemplating her options for a few moments. A dull throb around her neck let her know that she was very much alive. Whoever...whatever attacked her at Lucid Nightmare had either been merciful, thought she had died, or...someone had saved her.

As soon as the thought rose, Sage buried it back down. Both the people that had occupied the club with her at the time of the attack had been in no hurry to save her, she was sure of that. One of them because he was most likely dead by now, and the other because she had planned to blow his tongue out the back of his head.

Damn vamp voodoo.

But God, the way he had looked at her. Like he could see inside her soul.

Sage almost choked on her thoughts, and did her best to push them out. She couldn't. Had anyone ever looked at her like that? Had Alek?

Alek. Sage wanted to vomit thinking about the man. Of course, he hadn't ever looked at her like that. The only time he really ever looked at her was when he had been begging her not to walk out the door. And how ironic that she was lying in bed thinking of him. That had seemed to be about the extent of their relationship. That and his phone calls. Jesus, he called so much.

And that reminded her... Sage opened her eyes and looked around the room as much as possible without moving her body. Where was her cell phone?

As slowly as she could manage, she allowed her hands to slide up her stomach, reaching for the top of her dress...that...wasn't....there.

A warm feeling, like the feeling she felt when kids used to call her and her sister trailer park trash at school, blanketed her body. Someone had taken off her clothes.

She was naked.

With little reservation, Sage let her fingers slide around her body. The holster that had been connected to her legs was missing. The silver rings that she wore on both her middle fingers were missing. She could tell without even feeling that the dangling silver earrings were missing as well.

Sage's embarrassment boiled over into anger. Holy shit, someone had stripped her naked, not just of her clothes but of her belongings. If someone had robbed her...she could feel her body shake with a silent rage. Sheer anger made her abruptly sit up in bed and look around. Laying on her side, she hadn't been able to see the rest of the room behind her. A snazzy looking glass-paneled walk in closet, was set inside the wall. Flanked on either side of the closet were two cherrywood doors. One of those doors was probably the bathroom. The other one led outside.

As silent as her anger would allow her to be, Sage threw the comforter off her body and threw her feet over the edge of the bed, settling them on the wood floorboards. She squinted her eyes to look around for her weapon and her clothes. Neither were in sight. Sliding to the edge of the bed, Sage reached for the nightstand drawer and yanked the top one open.

Empty. She slid it closed quietly and repeated the motion on the bottom drawer. Empty as well. Not even a fucking bible. Using her arms to hoist her body up, she jumped the width of the bed to the other side, throwing open the other nightstand. Empty again.

Shit...

Other than strange abstract paintings and terrible furniture, the room was virtually empty. There was nothing she could use to protect herself.

You could use your hands.

True. But without her rings, they were a lot less effective. Sage gave the room another once over. It was becoming obvious that she didn't have much of a choice. Whatever waited beyond that door, she just hoped it wasn't strong enough to withstand a punch to the face.

Sage padded softly over to the closet and opened it.

"Hello, designer heaven."

Dolce and Gabana, Gucci, Armani were the only brands that she could pronounce. Suits, suits and more suits. At least she knew that she would be facing a man. Whoever owned the place definitely had interesting taste in just about everything. It was definitely nobody that she knew. None of her friends dressed like this.

Sage yanked a dress shirt off of a hanger and wrapped it around her body. The soft material fell well passed her thighs and hung loosely, not showing any curves.

"So you're a big guy...Duly noted."

Sage closed the closet, buttoning the shit as she made her way to the door, leading to her freedom. If her hands were the most effective weapon she could find, she would make do. She'd been in worse situations. Cornered with no help. Or fighting in the dark with not even the slightest chance of light coming to her aid. This would just be another ass-kicking she could put on her list.

Sage felt an unfamiliar hammering in her chest. Yeah, whoever had brought her here was definitely gonna get an ass kicking. She was nervous. She

never

felt nervous, and as she wrapped her hand around the cool door handle, Sage swore she was on the verge of a heart attack. Thankfully, the door didn't creak as she opened it ajar, and stuck her head out, glancing down the right side of the hallway.

The hallway outside the room was dark and cast with shadows, the interior designing mirroring the way the bedroom was set up, dark wood paneled walls that extended onto the floor, barely covered by a magnificent deep red and black carpet. As the hall went on, doors punctuated the walls; all closed and probably locked except for one that was diagonal from her.

A black toilet and matching black sink with gray tiled floors stared at her, barely reflecting off the little light that escaped from the cracked bedroom door.

Jesus, what's with all the black?

Whoever decorated the place needed to plant some flowers and watch Sesame Street? Despite her heart hammering out her chest, she couldn't help but feel run down and scared. The owner of the place was obviously either a robot or was not affected by wall colors.

Focus, dummy.

Holding her breath, she pushed the heavy wood out a few more inches, stopping when low moan escaped into the silence.

Shit, shit shit.

The opening was big enough to stick her shoulders through, and she did so, cautiously. On the other side of the hallway, was the rest of the house. All decorated in the same monotonous colors of black brown, and gray. More abstract art was scattered along the walls, and in between every few splatters of pain on canvas, a sculpture rose from the ground. The pattern of weird art extended to the end of the hallway and around a corner, into a brightly lit area.

A light clinking noise distracted Sage from analyzing the hallway. Unconsciously, she sucked in a breath and held it for a minute. Every few seconds, that clinking noise would chime throughout the house, whispering passed her ears.

The hallway ended at a kitchen and somebody was in that kitchen.

The door protested again when Sage attempted to push it a bit more. She was stuck and fucked, if she didn't leave the room.

Sage looked down at her stomach and breasts then back up at the jar in the door. Try and fit through it? Part of her wished she had lain off of those quesadillas she had had for dinner with the girls.

At the thought of food, her stomach rumbled.

And another thought hit her. Dinner with the girls.

How long ago had that been? Her already throbbing throat seized up a bit in momentary panic. She needed to find out how long she had been sleeping and who had brought her to Emoville.

Fitting through that damn door was step one in finding all that out.

With a deep breath, probably the deepest she had ever taken, she sucked in her stomach and pushed up her breasts, forcing her way through the opening, feet, legs thighs, ass first. Upper body following. Without pausing to pat herself on the back, Sage made her way down the hall, stepping with balls of her feet.

All the doors along the hallway were ominously closed, and Sage did he her best to not glide against the walls, lest one open. Passing a wooden sculpture that reminded her of a pawn, Sage grabbed it off of the table lining the wall. The heavy weight settled into her hand nicely.

Just in case my hands, can't deliver.

But even with an actual "weapon", Sage found that she missed her guns, the way a mother would miss her children on their first day of school.

A familiar sound of metal falling harshly into a sink jarred Sage's nerves. She gripped the pawn tightly as she approached the end of the hallway. She tried her best not to go into a worst case scenario, as her heart beat the hell out of her ribcage.

Count backwards from 5 and go,

she told herself.

5...shit

4...

3...just fucking do it.

2...

1...

Rhys was aware of the very second she awoke. The minute her heart beat began to speed up, and her scent changed from total relaxation to stress. He could hear her when slide out from under the blanket, checked his bed side drawers, then his closet. She had marveled at his clothing selection, and it had made him look down at the black Gucci shirt he had worn to the club. Alfredo sauce dotted the silk where his shirt and gray trousers met, and he had contemplated taking it off, so as to be presentable to her.

Presentable to a woman who almost put a bullet through your skull?

It was probably that thought that had made him keep it on.

Would it alarm her if he did so though? He didn't want her to think he had tried anything while she slept.

Don't get cocky.

He wasn't trying to be, but what would any woman think if they had woken up naked in a place they didn't recognize only to find a man in the kitchen making them chicken fettuccini?

Probably not that they had been raped, but then again women of this time are horrifically unpredictable.

But Rhys had a feeling that this girl, was nothing like any other woman he had met. Ever.

What had the boy from Lucid said?

She's a fucking Huntress.

Yes, he had heard of those girls. The girls that hunted and killed his kind. Even the innocent ones. In their eyes no vampire was innocent.

While both he and the dying bartender had been shocked at what had been occurring in front of them, the blonde woman, one minute all business, the next minute writhing and struggling for air on the floor, it had not shocked him.

She had come into vampire territory alone, firing bullets and taking names. He couldn't help but think that she had a death wish.

Whoever it had been that had attacked her had most definitely meant to kill.

If it hadn't been for him, he probably would have been dumping her body in a back alley somewhere. He had to wonder if what she'd been so angry about was really worth her life.

Rhys had looked down on her unmoving body, curious.

There is no way that she is one of them,

he had thought. From the way she had been dressed, she seemed like any normal twenty-something year old woman on a Friday night. He had noticed that she didn't wear as much makeup as other women normally did though, and despite the angry scowl of her face, a luminescent natural glow, showed through her skin.

And that hair? The odd coloring had intrigued him. Such stark differences in color had to be fake. It was common for women of this time to not appreciate their birth features, and alter them when they were old enough to do so. The end result was always ideal for them, but for him...he preferred natural attributes. It sickened him that even men encouraged this behavior.

But not this one.

He had picked her up from the floor and the smell of her assaulted him. He smelled no silicone or hair dyes. She wore no perfume, and her body wash was completely natural, reminding him of peaches and flowers. Of the ocean and the wind. Of everything that he loved and used to love. The scent took him to memories that he had not visited in years and also to some of hers.

"Daddy, look how high Vicky's kite is going. It's gonna touch the moon!" A large hand gripped the top of a young blonde girl's one-peicebathing suit, bunching it in a fist, then released it abruptly, causing her to stumble backwards in the sand.Handsome blue eyes pierced the girl through tears that were slowly clouding her vision. The air around him wafted heavily with countless substances and his face crinkled like tin foil, aging faster than what was normal. "You bother me one more fucking time, and I will throw you in the ocean, you got that?"

The memory had almost made him trip over his own footing as he carried her the few blocks down the empty street and up to his penthouse apartment.

It had disappeared as quickly as it came, and Rhys could tell that if she had been awake, he never would have seen that. She kept herself guarded at all times. From emotions, feelings, weakness. He didn't have to look very hard to see that.

Why?

He had whispered into her mind.

Because it's what's kept me alive,

her sleeping mind had whispered back. The sound of her voice had been soft; he felt it as a caress down his spine.

There was something different about her .Rhys knew it already. As he placed the noodles he had let sift into a bowl, he realized he still had goose bumps. He could still feel her voice on him, whispering to him.

Taking the sauce off the burner and tossing his stirring spoon into the sink, he heard the familiar creak of his door. He poured a bit of sauce into the bowl and placed the pan int the sink, once empty, as he heard a soft scrape.

Just as he had thought.

She was going to use one of his favorite sculptures in the house as a weapon.

Rhys reached for two large wooden forks and mixed the pasta and sauce to together expertly. He could hear her heart beating hard. Harder than it had even when she had pulled out a gun in the middle of a vampire club on a Friday night.

She rounded the corner at break neck speed, arms raised, Pawn poised for an attack.. He saw her mouth open, poised for a yell or to say something sassy like she seemed to do a lot, but before a sound could escape her lips, he had removed the pawn from her arms and had shoved her back into the hallway, slamming her into the wall behind her.

Rhys placed the pawn down; picked his forks back up and began mixing again. From the corner of his eye, he saw her, the wind knocked out of her and stunned. Just as quickly as she had hit the wall, the air around her changed, charged with frustration and anger.

He watched her step out of the hallway and lunge for his knife set that hung above his kitchen island. He continued mixing as she grabbed his butcher knife and held it in front of her. Rhys didn't spare her a glance as he reached behind him, opening a cupboard, and pulled out a clear glass plate, placing it next to the larger bowl of pasta.

"Would you like some of this?" the sound of his voice startled her, he knew, but she didn't let it show. No weakness. Instead of her mouth answering, a loud gurgle did it for her. If it had been a human, they most likely would not have heard it, but Rhys' ears picked it up as easily as one would a bull horn. Her stomach.

He began portioning out some food for her.

He glanced up at her for a second. Her attention was focused wholly on the food he had made. He had heard her stomach making noises as she slept. His assumptions of her desire for food had been correct.

"You're the vamp from the club," she made it a statement. Her voice was hoarse, and the rasp of it made Rhys almost drop his fork. She looked stunning in his shirt. They were of course, to large on her, but the fact that she was naked underneath

his

shirt was almost too much to bear.

She had a terrific body. Her legs were strong slim pillars that complemented her perfectly. Her breasts were the perfect size able to fill a man's hand. Her stomach was soft and flat and flaring slightly at the sides the way they were supposed to. He had removed her clothing when he placed her into his bed, due to the fact that she had emptied her bladder before losing consciousness. He was sure she would appreciate the fact that he hadn't allowed her to stew in it while she had slept.

"Rhys," he finally said. He grabbed a fork from beneath the island, placed it on his glass bowl and slid it over to her. She stared at it for a second before glancing back up at him.

"I'm not gonna eat that."

He wasn't surprised that she was going to be difficult. "You're hungry."

"And?"

She cocked a blonde eyebrow at him. Rhys had to laugh.

"And do you need any more of a reason as to why you should eat? Hunger is good enough for most." He could see the muscles in her arm tense and ready. She gripped the knife loosely so that if she needed to throw it she could, but also tight enough so that if she needed to simply wield it, it would not fly out of her hand.

"Do you plan to eat it with a butcher knife? That seems most unsafe." Rhys folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the stove, avoiding the hot burners. She glanced down at the food again, then at her knife. Her stomach and her will battled against each other right before his eyes.

"You could have poisoned it."

Rhys shrugged. "If I wanted you dead, I would have left you at Lucid." The girl shook her head. Not believing him.

"Not all of us are monsters, you know."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"So what, you saved me so that I could to sit here and listen to you tell me that not all of your guys are pieces of shit? Nice."

"I saved you because I do not wish you harm."

"Even though I shot one of your buddies," her voice was mildly condescending.

"I did not know that man," Rhys replied easily. Other than seeing him at the club every Friday night, Rhys had never made an effort to make legitimate conversation with the boy.

The blonde continued to shake her head. Her stomach made another loud protest, and he saw pain flash momentarily through her eyes.