I stared at the mug's cooling contents.
"This has blood in it."
"Not blood in it. That is blood. Mama Neda would never dilute it, not even for mad little chickies abandoned at her doorstep.” She smiled, more to herself than at me. “Of course, it's not the best to be had, short notice and all. But a stray cat will do to fix your throat."
The mug fell from my hand and splattered blood everywhere. I stared at it in shock. A cat? I spent more than half my time as a cat. This made me a cannibal. My stomach heaved. I coughed and hacked, but naught so much as bile came up. Mama Neda sat down cross-legged on the mattress, watching. I thought I heard her laughing once or twice.
"Is she all right?"
I spun toward the new voice, but the chain wasn't long enough, and my own momentum pulled me off my feet. I landed in the spilled blood and screamed. Backpedaling away from it put me on the mattress and too close to Mama Neda. She reached out a stick-thin hand and stroked the top of my head. I jerked away, and she laughed again.
"What happened?” the voice asked.
Hissing my displeasure, I watched the stranger glide across the room. His height wasn't impressive, only a head or so taller than me, and he didn't look like much of a threat in his khaki pants and collared shirt. A pair of wire-framed glasses perched on his nose. The outfit should have made him look like a geeky librarian or professor, but no stereotypical geek wore such a look of arrogance on a face that could have been carved by a Renaissance master.
He paused, studying me. “Is she all right?"
"About time you joined us, Hermit. Mama Neda was quite worried you were abandoning.” She reached out and stroked my hair again. “Physically this little chicky is fine. She turned completely. Mentally...” She shrugged.
"Let me go,” I said, surprising myself with how steady my voice came out.
They exchanged glances, then turned to study me. Mama Neda's eyes even had a gleam of sanity in them. The man she called Hermit took a step closer, and I pushed myself as far back as the chain would allow.
"Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm."
"That's why I'm chained to the floor? To show your good intentions?” I couldn't bite back the words, even though I knew it wasn't smart to antagonize the people imprisoning me.
He frowned. “I am Nathanial. You are Kita, correct?"
How did he know my name? He wasn't a hunter. I gave him a minute nod, and he smiled. Was he in league with a hunter? While my consciousness was fading in and out I'd thought I had heard a scuffle, but Nathanial didn't look like anyone who would, or even could, fight off a serious foe. He appeared, while still masculine, rather delicate under his pressed clothing. Maybe he wasn't the stranger from the street? I would have expected to remember the black hair pulled back at the nape of his neck—a man with hair down to his waist was unusual. But the eyes were the same, a strange crystal grey, though they weren't as cold as I remembered.
"What do you want from me?” I asked, and his smile faded.
He looked down at the bags in his hand. “I brought you clothes.” He thrust a bag toward me, but I kept staring at him. I'd forgotten I was still quite naked.
Mama Neda sighed. “Well, if you aren't going to take them, chicky, I will. No one ever buys Mama Neda nothin'.” She pulled a red knit sweater out of the bag and pressed it against her sagging breasts. It clashed badly with her floral sundress.
"I did get something for you, Mama Neda, to thank you.” Nathanial held out a small cardboard box.
She grabbed it and threw off the lid. Inside was the most horrible bracelet with large, bright-orange and light-blue plastic gems. Snaking it on her wrist, Mama Neda examined it.
"Oh, I like it! Mama Neda was quite afraid the Hermit wouldn't know he should reward her for her help."
While Mama Neda was distracted, I grabbed the clothes she had forgotten on the mattress. No underwear in the bag, but I wasn't about to be picky. The jeans slid on quickly enough, and surprisingly, fit well. The sweater presented more of a problem. I had it over my head and one arm through before I realized the chain prevented me from sliding it on the rest of the way.
A hand closed on my arm, and I jumped. I tried in vain to jerk away from Nathanial's grasp. He frowned at me, and I realized he was trying to unlock the manacle. It took effort to still myself. Relief washed over me as the chain clattered to the floor.
Mama Neda looked up. “Trusting her already, Hermit?"
"She needs to put on clothing."
Mama Neda stood between me and the door, which hung open. I wondered if I could make a run for it without either of them stopping me. Nathanial was too close. If I bolted, he'd only have to reach out a hand to stop me.
I stared at the floor. “What happens now?"
"That depends entirely on you, chicky. Mama Neda has done her part.” She moved the obnoxious bracelet to her other wrist. “Hermit, you may use this room as long as you need, but I suggest as soon as she's ready you get her in front of the council.” She moved closer to Nathanial, putting a hand on the side of his face.
He flinched at the uncomfortably intimate gesture. Apparently I wasn't the only one afraid of the old woman.
"A little advice from Mama Neda, share a little of your own before taking her out. Ta-ta now.” With that she sauntered out of the room and shut the door.
I listened for the bolt to latch, but only silence followed. Backing away from Nathanial, I tried to keep one eye on him and one on the door. “What's going on? What do you want from me?"
He said nothing at first, and then held out the second bag he carried. “Here. The shoes you were wearing when I found you. The coat that was nearby too.” His lips twisted into a frown. “Dry cleaning did very little to help the coat, but I thought you might want it back, anyway. Something familiar. I threw the other clothes away. They were ruined."
I looked at the bag, but didn't reach for it. I wasn't fool enough to grab it. That would be like inviting him to try to catch me and put the chain back on. He set the bag down, moving slowly, as if he was afraid he would frighten me. Way too late for that.
Nathanial took a step forward, his hands flat in front of him. Surrender, or an indication of harmlessness? I didn't believe either for a second. I jumped backward, and the rough stone of the wall pressed against my back. With nowhere left to go, and Nathanial still walking toward me, I glanced from him to the door, and bolted.
He caught me before my second step. I hit him as hard as I could, but despite his slight build, he didn't flinch. Okay, he was considerably stronger than he looked. With cool efficiency, he captured my wrists, one in each hand. I tried to wrench away. As if I was little more than a rag doll he turned me, my own arms crossing over my chest. He pinned me to him, my back against his chest.
"Let go!"
"Kita, you have to calm down.” His lips brushed against my ear, and a shiver ran through me. I sagged in his arms, hoping gravity would be my friend. He sat down, and I found myself still trapped against him, but now also in his lap. “Kita, listen to me. You have to calm down. You will injure yourself."
The position was too intimate, the words too soft and kind for someone I didn't know, who had thus far shown me very little reason to trust him. I kicked and thrashed, but he held onto me.
"Let me go!"
"I did not want it to be this way. Please, calm down."
I continued to struggle and he pulled me tighter against his chest.
"There was an accident,” he said, not even sounding winded. “I never meant to harm you."
I stilled. I was getting nowhere but exhausted. “All right then, Hermit. What do you—"
"Nathanial, if you please."
I gritted my teeth. “Fine, Nathanial. What do you want?"
"For my mistake not to cost you your life."
"How very noble of you, and I suppose you're going to tell me what I have to do to stay alive."
"I am not threatening you, Kita. Honestly, I am worried about you. I want us to be friends, all right?"
The laugh that escaped my throat wasn't a happy sound. The memory of his astonished voice whispering that I wasn't human echoed in my head. Did he think I was something he could keep in a cage? Domesticate?
"Do you usually make friends by holding them hostage, chained up in a basement with a mad woman who forces them to drink blood?"
"I rescued you on the street. Most people would be appreciative. As for the rest, Mama Neda helped you. She saved your life earlier today, and you were down here for your own protection."
"Were you expecting a ‘Thank you?’ Forget it. I don't need anyone's protection, especially if it involves making me a prisoner."
"You do not understand.” He let go of my wrists so fast it took me a second to realize I was free.
I lunged to my feet and pivoted to face him. That put my back against the wall again, but standing was better than the disturbing intimacy of his lap. His face looked more tired than his voice had sounded, his grey eyes pinched around the edges. He reached a hand up to me, and I pressed myself harder against the wall.
Hesitating a heartbeat, he rolled to his knees, and I realized the outstretched arm wasn't in a position to grab me; he held it up for my scrutiny. I saw a single dark drop falling free to land shapelessly on the cement floor. I stared, fascinated, not understanding why. My eyes slid to Nathanial's wrist, where two dark holes allowed sluggish blood to escape.
Pressure built in the roof of my mouth, and my lips parted, no longer able to close over my teeth. Nathanial slowly rose to his feet. His other hand slid into my hair, his fingers cradling the back of my head. He gently tugged me forward.
I couldn't look away from his wrist.
As though in a dream, my mouth closed over those two little holes, welcoming the coppery taste onto my tongue. Strange teeth I knew I hadn't had earlier sank into his flesh, and he drew in a breath. Then the world slid away. Time pressed down on me, and I saw and felt things that couldn't possibly have been happening. It was wrong, all wrong, especially since it felt so right.