All Hail the Shifter King
Title: Lords of Kensington, Part 13
Word Count: 1555
"Kat, you're my best friend." She could feel the desperation in his voice, the heavy sadness, the guilt. He knew, at this point, that he had lost her, and maybe he was hoping that she would turn and look at him, that if he could catch her eyes that an unspoken understanding could pass between them like it always did. Maybe he was hoping that a few silent seconds could ease the terrible pain of his betrayal. "I don't want to lose you to -"
"Go away, Gavin," she said, her words choking around the lump in her throat, the tightness in her chest. The concrete wall was so cold against her forehead, the chill of the floor seeping through her cotton capris.
"I just want you to -"
"Go away," she repeated, and there was the familiar grating noise of the chair against the concrete floor, the sound of his slow footsteps. There was the mosquito-whine of the bone saw, and Doctor Ramsay's excited voice.
"Now then," he said. "Let's get started."
Even pressing the heels of her hands into her ears couldn't block out the way the pitch of the saw changed as it made contact, the wet crackling of bone giving way, and she clenched her jaw so tightly she was convinced her teeth would crack, tears streaming from behind her closed eyelids, and -
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty."
The voice drowned out everything, including the sound of her own breathing, and her eyes snapped to the ceiling, staring at the speakers.
"Wanna come back to the land of the living?" it said. "Well, land of the awake, but same difference, at least to those of us who are both, but anyway! You wanna wake up sometime soon? Cuz some of us..."
"... would really like to be doing other things right now, besides... oh hey! You are awake!"
Katrina blinked once, twice, then narrowed her eyes at the face staring down at her - the youngster that had been bounding around her apartment just the night before.
"... Azrin?" she asked. He grinned brightly, a smile that would have been entirely contagious had she not been so confused and drowsy.
"Hey, no brain damage!" he said, clapping his hands and leaning back as she sat up. "Awesome! Kerry will be stoked, I think she was kinda convinced that she might have broken you, humans being so delicate and all, but I told her that you were tougher than you looked!" He dropped into the chair beside the small bed she sat on, looking completely pleased with himself as he scrubbed his hands through his silver-white hair. "How are you feeling?"
"I..." She looked down at her arm, rubbing the bare, bruised skin. Her jacket was gone and the sleeve of her sweater had been crudely cut away, and where there should have been devastating damage to flesh and muscle there was just a deep bruise and, beneath that, a rosy-pink series of arching scars. She reached up and touched her cheek, felt the very subtle ridge of scar tissue running in a horizontal line from her ear to her nose.
"Those'll fade in a bit, maybe a day or so," Azrin told her, his expression turning somewhat somber with understanding. "I know it kinda sucks at first and all, I mean, been there done that, you know? But Kerry does great work, you know. Best in the city, even Atticus says it, so -"
"Where's Ryder?" When Azrin didn't immediately answer, she leaned forward and grabbed the front of his fitted black sweater, hauling him toward her. "Where is he?!" she demanded.
"He's here, he's here, Kerry's looking after him and -"
"I want to see him."
"Yeah, actually, no you don't. I mean, you think you were a mess when you came in, you shoulda..." He trailed off when he saw her stricken expression, and cleared his throat awkwardly before looking down at his feet. "Sorry," he said quietly. "That was kinda tasteless."
A host of vicious retorts came to her, but as she sifted through them for the one that would be the most cutting she realized it would be entirely pointless for her to take her frustrations out on Azrin - as loose as his tongue was, it was obvious he wasn't intentionally trying to upset her. She stared at him so long that he finally looked up, his expression hesitant as his green eyes searched hers, and she was struck by such a powerful moment of recognition that she released his sweater and leaned back on the bed.
"That was you," she said, and when he raised an eyebrow, added, "You were that wolf, outside."
"Oh, yeah," he said nonchalantly. "It's still kinda weird for me but I can make it work when it really matters. Sorta like trying to learn a new sport or something, all about the muscle memory and stuff." His cheeks flushed a little when she kept staring at him, and he looked down again. "S'not a big deal," he mumbled. "Ben and the twins did most of the work. I just sorta tagged along."
She watched him a few seconds longer, the way he picked at his fingernails, at a loose thread in the seam of his black jeans, and when he ran out of things on his person to hold his interest he turned to a yellowed and creased paperback, fanning the pages with his thumb for the sake of doing something to keep himself occupied. It startled her, a little, how young he seemed - it had been a childish cuteness in her apartment, the way he'd just never seemed to run out of energy and simply needed to touch or absorb or study everything around him, but in this moment he seemed more like someone who got the wrong end of the deal, someone dragged into a situation far beyond his understanding. Or was she just projecting her own feelings on the matter? The fact that he'd not been part of Atticus' family long made her feel a sort of kinship with him, if only for the fact that he still understood what it was to be human, and by extension probably understood the frustrations and hopeless that came with being tied up in the affairs of shifters.
"Where are we?" she asked, changing the conversation for the sake of easing his awkwardness.
"The school," he told her.
"And those... things went away?"
"The asperi? Yeah. They'll always test the borders and fuck around until the twins go out."
"And we're safe, here?"
"Yeah. They would never try to come in with Atticus here. Even Kaius won't fuck around with him. Like, they could have a whole army out there and none of them will come within ten feet of -"
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why won't they come near Atticus?" she asked, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her palms. "What's so special about him?"
"He's Atticus?"
"That's not a reason."
"I dunno. I don't talk to him much. The twins do, and Rhett does, and I guess Anya does because she's like his right hand guy... gal... whatever. But like most of us don't see him often."
"Why?"
"I dunno."
"So I'm guessing the chances of you getting me a chat with him are slim, huh?"
"Umm... I could maybe? Like I could ask Anya or something, but I mean, he didn't really agree to talk to you, you know, so..." When she leveled a glare at him, he gulped and pushed himself out of the chair, taking the worn paperback - she spotted the title before he tucked it under his arm, Stranger in a Strange Land - and his jacket with him. "I'll see what I can do, okay?" he asked, and hurried from the room. She wasn't at all surprised when she heard a lock click into place once the door was shut. At least she knew now that the notorious paranoia wasn't just a tesairen thing.
Without Azrin to pepper with questions, though, she was left with only her thoughts, and picked absently at the ragged edge of her sweater sleeve as she waited for him to come back. She tried to focus on what she would say to Atticus if she were to actually meet him, what information she could press him for, what she could do to plan for what felt like an inevitable third encounter with Kaius' disgusting kin - all tactics to keep her from panicking at being trapped in this tiny room with Ryder nowhere to be found.
And mostly, to shake the sound of the bone saw, the feeling of the cold concrete floor, and the sensation that she was living that night at the camp over again for the second time.
As the minutes stretched on she paced the length of the small room - it had obviously been a nurse's office of sorts, though it had been stripped of everything except the bed and a desk with a single chair and thus had nothing to hold her attention. She was about to sit down and start counting the patterned tiles on the floor when the lock disengaged and the door opened. Azrin stuck his head in the door, caught her eyes, and nodded.
"Okay," he said. "Come with me."
Word Count: 1555
"Kat, you're my best friend." She could feel the desperation in his voice, the heavy sadness, the guilt. He knew, at this point, that he had lost her, and maybe he was hoping that she would turn and look at him, that if he could catch her eyes that an unspoken understanding could pass between them like it always did. Maybe he was hoping that a few silent seconds could ease the terrible pain of his betrayal. "I don't want to lose you to -"
"Go away, Gavin," she said, her words choking around the lump in her throat, the tightness in her chest. The concrete wall was so cold against her forehead, the chill of the floor seeping through her cotton capris.
"I just want you to -"
"Go away," she repeated, and there was the familiar grating noise of the chair against the concrete floor, the sound of his slow footsteps. There was the mosquito-whine of the bone saw, and Doctor Ramsay's excited voice.
"Now then," he said. "Let's get started."
Even pressing the heels of her hands into her ears couldn't block out the way the pitch of the saw changed as it made contact, the wet crackling of bone giving way, and she clenched her jaw so tightly she was convinced her teeth would crack, tears streaming from behind her closed eyelids, and -
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty."
The voice drowned out everything, including the sound of her own breathing, and her eyes snapped to the ceiling, staring at the speakers.
"Wanna come back to the land of the living?" it said. "Well, land of the awake, but same difference, at least to those of us who are both, but anyway! You wanna wake up sometime soon? Cuz some of us..."
"... would really like to be doing other things right now, besides... oh hey! You are awake!"
Katrina blinked once, twice, then narrowed her eyes at the face staring down at her - the youngster that had been bounding around her apartment just the night before.
"... Azrin?" she asked. He grinned brightly, a smile that would have been entirely contagious had she not been so confused and drowsy.
"Hey, no brain damage!" he said, clapping his hands and leaning back as she sat up. "Awesome! Kerry will be stoked, I think she was kinda convinced that she might have broken you, humans being so delicate and all, but I told her that you were tougher than you looked!" He dropped into the chair beside the small bed she sat on, looking completely pleased with himself as he scrubbed his hands through his silver-white hair. "How are you feeling?"
"I..." She looked down at her arm, rubbing the bare, bruised skin. Her jacket was gone and the sleeve of her sweater had been crudely cut away, and where there should have been devastating damage to flesh and muscle there was just a deep bruise and, beneath that, a rosy-pink series of arching scars. She reached up and touched her cheek, felt the very subtle ridge of scar tissue running in a horizontal line from her ear to her nose.
"Those'll fade in a bit, maybe a day or so," Azrin told her, his expression turning somewhat somber with understanding. "I know it kinda sucks at first and all, I mean, been there done that, you know? But Kerry does great work, you know. Best in the city, even Atticus says it, so -"
"Where's Ryder?" When Azrin didn't immediately answer, she leaned forward and grabbed the front of his fitted black sweater, hauling him toward her. "Where is he?!" she demanded.
"He's here, he's here, Kerry's looking after him and -"
"I want to see him."
"Yeah, actually, no you don't. I mean, you think you were a mess when you came in, you shoulda..." He trailed off when he saw her stricken expression, and cleared his throat awkwardly before looking down at his feet. "Sorry," he said quietly. "That was kinda tasteless."
A host of vicious retorts came to her, but as she sifted through them for the one that would be the most cutting she realized it would be entirely pointless for her to take her frustrations out on Azrin - as loose as his tongue was, it was obvious he wasn't intentionally trying to upset her. She stared at him so long that he finally looked up, his expression hesitant as his green eyes searched hers, and she was struck by such a powerful moment of recognition that she released his sweater and leaned back on the bed.
"That was you," she said, and when he raised an eyebrow, added, "You were that wolf, outside."
"Oh, yeah," he said nonchalantly. "It's still kinda weird for me but I can make it work when it really matters. Sorta like trying to learn a new sport or something, all about the muscle memory and stuff." His cheeks flushed a little when she kept staring at him, and he looked down again. "S'not a big deal," he mumbled. "Ben and the twins did most of the work. I just sorta tagged along."
She watched him a few seconds longer, the way he picked at his fingernails, at a loose thread in the seam of his black jeans, and when he ran out of things on his person to hold his interest he turned to a yellowed and creased paperback, fanning the pages with his thumb for the sake of doing something to keep himself occupied. It startled her, a little, how young he seemed - it had been a childish cuteness in her apartment, the way he'd just never seemed to run out of energy and simply needed to touch or absorb or study everything around him, but in this moment he seemed more like someone who got the wrong end of the deal, someone dragged into a situation far beyond his understanding. Or was she just projecting her own feelings on the matter? The fact that he'd not been part of Atticus' family long made her feel a sort of kinship with him, if only for the fact that he still understood what it was to be human, and by extension probably understood the frustrations and hopeless that came with being tied up in the affairs of shifters.
"Where are we?" she asked, changing the conversation for the sake of easing his awkwardness.
"The school," he told her.
"And those... things went away?"
"The asperi? Yeah. They'll always test the borders and fuck around until the twins go out."
"And we're safe, here?"
"Yeah. They would never try to come in with Atticus here. Even Kaius won't fuck around with him. Like, they could have a whole army out there and none of them will come within ten feet of -"
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Why won't they come near Atticus?" she asked, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin on her palms. "What's so special about him?"
"He's Atticus?"
"That's not a reason."
"I dunno. I don't talk to him much. The twins do, and Rhett does, and I guess Anya does because she's like his right hand guy... gal... whatever. But like most of us don't see him often."
"Why?"
"I dunno."
"So I'm guessing the chances of you getting me a chat with him are slim, huh?"
"Umm... I could maybe? Like I could ask Anya or something, but I mean, he didn't really agree to talk to you, you know, so..." When she leveled a glare at him, he gulped and pushed himself out of the chair, taking the worn paperback - she spotted the title before he tucked it under his arm, Stranger in a Strange Land - and his jacket with him. "I'll see what I can do, okay?" he asked, and hurried from the room. She wasn't at all surprised when she heard a lock click into place once the door was shut. At least she knew now that the notorious paranoia wasn't just a tesairen thing.
Without Azrin to pepper with questions, though, she was left with only her thoughts, and picked absently at the ragged edge of her sweater sleeve as she waited for him to come back. She tried to focus on what she would say to Atticus if she were to actually meet him, what information she could press him for, what she could do to plan for what felt like an inevitable third encounter with Kaius' disgusting kin - all tactics to keep her from panicking at being trapped in this tiny room with Ryder nowhere to be found.
And mostly, to shake the sound of the bone saw, the feeling of the cold concrete floor, and the sensation that she was living that night at the camp over again for the second time.
As the minutes stretched on she paced the length of the small room - it had obviously been a nurse's office of sorts, though it had been stripped of everything except the bed and a desk with a single chair and thus had nothing to hold her attention. She was about to sit down and start counting the patterned tiles on the floor when the lock disengaged and the door opened. Azrin stuck his head in the door, caught her eyes, and nodded.
"Okay," he said. "Come with me."