***This is one piece of a larger assortment that will continue with themes that aren't strictly lesbian and/or unwillingness. Stay tuned for more of Soraya.***
I pushed my pace to a lively jog as I eyed my watch. I estimated a good ten minutes before the darker parts of my beloved city would come out to play. I didn't want to be stranded outside when that happened. I could feel a good stretch in my legs as I rounded a corner. My bag beat a rhythm against my jean-clad thigh. I thanked the higher powers that I had worn tennis shoes that day.
I was silently kicking myself for leaving work so late, but I had a car payment to take care of and school tuition to think about. If only David hadn't kept me so late at the office finalizing a manuscript. Next time, I would insist he give me a ride. I laughed under my breath as I imagined myself making a move on my attractive boss. He definitely worked the older-man confidence. I knew I wasn't the only twenty year old to want a piece of that.
Five minutes to go and I still wasn't in my neighborhood. I began to sweat, and it wasn't because of the humid air or my running. I knew what kinds of things came out after dark, and they would waste no time in taking advantage of me. I was a healthy specimen of a human female. I had thick dark hair that always insisted on having a slight wave in it, worn in the traditional witch length all the way down to mid-thigh. The white streaks shot through it gave me character and marked me as a witch-in-training. They wouldn't fade until I was out of training and could properly store my energy. I had grey eyes, athletic curves, and pretty cheekbones. I was a little on the short side, but I'm sure the creepy crawly nasties wouldn't mind that so much. I didn't live in the best part of town. It was all I could afford, but it was right next to the Fae's favorite hangout, near the river. I had silver bars on all my windows and locks galore on my doors. I had wards set up by experienced witches in every nook and cranny of my tiny apartment. I still hid under the covers at night when I heard screams, but it was home.
I had four more blocks to go when I fell. I kept thinking to myself that it had to have been inevitable, as I slow-motion fell towards the hard pavement. I threw my arms out, searching for something to catch me. My fingers brushed against rough tree bark. My chest contacted first without my knees to take the heat of it. The breath flew out of me, and my vision went black as my head cracked against the concrete.
***
When I came to, it was to the sounds of howling and scratching. My first instinct was to move, quickly, away from the noise, but something very intelligent overrode that instinct. There was some snuffling that I gauged to be about ten feet away. I squeezed my eyes shut at the pain[J1]. I had definitely hit my head hard. When I peeked again, I could see the rump of some kind of Fae animal digging through the trash to my immediate right. The only reason it wasn't sticking its muzzle into my intestines was that I had managed to either fall or roll behind a good amount of shrubbery under a tree, and the wonderful smell of the trash he was digging in overrode my soft human scent. The shade was keeping me well hidden, but who knew how long I had before he smelled me.
I started with my feet and began making sure everything was still intact. When I had finished running my checkup, I lifted my head, being very careful not to rustle in the dry leaves of the bushes. It was what I had expected: a werewolf. Not even a cuddly puppywolf, a derogatory name for humans that are infected with the were virus. It was a full blown, howl at the moon, born of a bitch werewolf. I had about two minutes to get the hell out of there, if I was lucky. If I wasn't, I was one dead little girl. I was never going to take the late shift again.
Slowly, very slowly, I got my hands underneath me, preparing to shoot myself straight up and set off at a dead run. I would grab what defenses I had in my bag as I went. I knew I wouldn't be able to outrun a werewolf, but it would buy me enough time to dig out a charm that would confuse it and get me home safely. That is, if there weren't any other Fae in the area that would hear its call as it prepared to hunt. And if I really did have the backup charm in my bag. And if I managed not to trip again. I would have cried, but I knew I needed to stay focused.
Adrenalin pumping in my veins, I shot up and took off at a dead run towards my apartment, preparing to cut through Mr. Beezleman's yard. My feet pounding as fast as my heart, I heard a tortured howl from behind me. The werewolf took off after me in about five seconds of indecisive confusion. I glimpsed a vision of wet, brown hair and iridescent yellow eyes before focusing on my escape. Its claws slapped the concrete, then went mostly silent as I began to cut through the grass.
My sweaty hands dug through my bag at my side, searching desperately for that wooden charm emblem. Two more blocks to my apartment, and the werewolf was about ten feet behind me. I didn't have much time. I let out a huff of frustration, trying hard to dodge obstacles in Mrs. Beezleman's yard and hop the fence at the end while finding the bottle. I heard a loud crash as the werewolf attempted to tear right through the wood of the fence. They had terrible night vision, despite their nocturnal behavior. The stunt bought me fifteen more seconds. I considered screaming for help, and then realized it would be a waste of valuable breath. No one would come running when it was full dark and they heard screams. Time was slow as I bet my life on that wooden charm. My head started to pound with a debilitating intensity.
From the corner of my eye, a flicker of movement caught my attention. A gasp was halfway out of my mouth before I could fully process what was happening. The flicker came at me from the side, grabbed me by the waist, and began carrying me in a completely novel direction. Confusion turned into panic as I realized what had happened. My fists beat against the figure's back as it slung me over its shoulder.
"What are you getting at, then? Keep still, idiot," the figure said in a huff.
My fists froze. The figure was human. Well, it sounded human. There were plenty of Fae that could appear human until they had you in their grasp. Looked as if I was already in the pretty little situation. Judging by the speed we were moving at, it was a vampire, a changeling, or a wizard with a powerful athletic charm.
"What are you?" I craned my neck to look at who was toting me steadily away from the brown, hairy mass of the werewolf.
"Your freaking hero, lady. Shut up, I'm concentrating."
Whatever it was, it was giving me a backache and worsening my headache, but I was scared rather senseless and not sure whether I needed to hug my savior or run away from it. My brown hair was getting in my eyes, and I briefly worried the length of it would trip up my self-proclaimed hero. That would be an ugly mess.
A male voice, my hero, said, "I'm going to turn into this arch way up here, toss you off to the side, and slam a door in the face of our friend back there. Get ready."
My mouth open, then shut. This warning came about two seconds before I was whipped around a corner, thrown untidily off into a wall, and heard a loud boom as something was slammed around. When I rolled over, I saw an unattractively patterned sofa, boots that connected to a man barricading a large silver and oak door, and dried blood as it flaked from my forehead.
In the dim light it was difficult to see who I was with, but I could hear him grunting as he fought to keep the door shut against the onslaught coming from outside.
"A little help would be appreciated, Princess," he snapped, his voice gruff with impatience.
"Well, excuse me," I slurred, "but I don't think I'm going to be helpful with anything at the moment."
My head rolled to the side as my vision darkened, and I spewed all over the side of the ugly couch.
"That's gross," I heard myself say.
A rough tap against my head shot pain throughout my body, and prevented me from falling into darkness again. It was the man's boot.
"Get your ass up and help me. And you're cleaning that puke later."
Some sense creeped into my addled brain, and I glanced around for my bag as I sat up. The room tilted as I leaned forward to grab it. I found my confusion charm in a zippered pocket on the front. I rolled my eyes at myself, rubbed it against my head to catch the blood, and lurched towards the man and the door.
"Move," I said.
