Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Derrek

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that I'm warm and reasonably comfortable, which is a surprise given that I'm sleeping on a concrete floor. But the thick blanket and pillow that Billy brought in did the trick, and I actually feel rather well-rested.

Then the feeling of being watched registers, raising the hairs on my neck, and I know I'm not alone.

They must have been staring at me, just waiting for me to wake up, because the second I move, they begin speaking.

"Ah, there's my boy. Sleep well, son?"

An unpleasant voice answers, "Sure sounded like it to me. I didn't know someone could snore that loud."

Well, this is bound to be interesting.

I sit up slowly, taking my time to meet the two unwelcome faces staring at me through the metal bars and the invisible shield of my cell.

"Sorry, didn't realize we were doing the family reunion today. I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion." I gesture to my shirtless, unwashed state. Given the lack of bathroom facilities, I'd had to avail myself of the bucket. So I sacrificed my shirt to cover it to reduce the foul smell and discourage associated insect life.

"Always that sharp sense of humor, just like me." Nielsen grins as if he's truly a proud father.

Azalea rolls her eyes and shifts her weight from one one black platform boot to the other. "Hilarious. Shall we get on with this? The smell is disgusting."

Nielsen waves her forward, and Billy steps out of the doorway with a set of keys. When I spot something made of black leather in Azalea's hand, I jump to my feet on high alert. I don't know what's going on here just yet, but my every instinct is telling me it isn't good.

Billy inserts the key into the lock and turns, then carefully grips the iron bars of the door and swings it open. The magical wall flickers, his proximity enough to make the spell react.

Azalea struts through the opening and eyes me up and down with a nasty smirk on her face. I might be able to use magic against her since she's within the force field, but something tells me she's already considered that possibility and I wouldn't change my circumstances by trying.

She strides slowly around me, as if assessing my sorry state. "The last twenty-four hours haven't done you any favors, cousin. You look terrible, and you smell like a dog ."

I should have seen it coming, or at least suspected something. But my focus is torn between her and Nielsen, and I thought if there were any surprises, they'd come from him.

Just as she whispers the last word in my ear, something black flies past my eyes and tightens around my neck. The second it touches my skin, it shocks me like waves of open electricity. I gasp for breath and the searing bolts shoot down my throat, inflicting such agony I can't even breathe. My fingers scrabble at the thick leather, trying to find purchase to rip the thing off. Doubled over in pain, I drop to my knees and struggle vainly to draw in air.

Azalea snickers and exits my cell, passing through the magical field as if it were nothing more than light.

My hands slide to the back of my neck as I search for some sort of buckle, but there's none; the collar is as smooth as the front, and equally adhered to my skin. The only difference is some kind of metal loop attached to the leather, but there's no break in the circle around my neck.

"It's not going to kill him, is it?" Nielsen asks mildly. "He's kinda purple."

"Nah, just give it a minute for the spell to settle. He'll be fine."

"Good, ‘cuz he's no good to me dead."

"Same."

Nielsen glances aside at Azalea, his eyes narrowing in response to her words. If she notices she doesn't react, just settles herself onto the wheeled office chair she used yesterday and leans back, waiting.

After an unimaginably long, torturous moment, the pain subsides and my throat opens, allowing me to draw in ragged breaths. The alpha seems somewhat relieved, and Azalea is clearly smug.

"See? He's just fine. In another minute or two, he'll be right as rain."

"And you're sure this will work?"

"Oh yeah. I tested it on some kid's dog. Lassie didn't have any way to tell mister Rogers that Timmy was in the well with that thing on."

I spare a second's hope that she was just referring to the show and hadn't actually hurt a child before considering my own plight. Glaring daggers at them both, I focus on filling my lungs and wait for the next nasty surprise.

"I think you ought to prove it before we go any further here."

Whatever is going on, Nielsen clearly doesn't trust Azalea. I file that away for later. It could be useful.

Sighing theatrically, Azalea answers, "Fine. Leaf, what do you think of your new accessory?"

I choose not to answer that comment, and after a few beats, she sighs again. "This really isn't fun, Leaf. We're dying to get your thoughts on the matter. Would you tell me for a cookie?"

I stand up, planning to tell her where she can shove that cookie, but when I try to speak the blinding pain erupts in my throat, leaving me gasping for breath and madly clawing at my neck like a raccoon on a leash.

The second I think about it, the blood drains from my face in realization. Azalea's taunting about smelling like a dog wasn't just bluster; she literally put a collar on me.

"There, you see?" she states in a smug, self-satisfied tone. "If he tries to speak, the pain stops him before he can even make a sound. I promise he's perfectly docile now."

Nielsen's eyes light up and he rubs his hands together. "Well damn, excellent work, Miss Wintree. That will do nicely."

Azalea performs a pleased, mocking curtsey with the pleats of her tiny plaid skirt. "Are you ready for the next bit?"

"Indeed, go right ahead."

I brace myself for more pain, eyes following every move Azalea makes and my body preparing to block or dodge whatever comes flying at me. Even though I know it's unlikely I can change the outcome, my fight-or-flight response has taken over control.

Azalea is standing in front of the cell now, chanting with both her hands up, palms toward the magic field. When nothing hits me after thirty seconds, I unclench my muscles and pay closer attention. Flickers of bright white and hazy purple streak across the space between us, and in just a few more seconds, the magical wall buzzes once, then flashes out of existence.

And I understand. Her magic wall kept me from freeing myself of this prison with my magic. Now that I'm collared and magically gagged, they don't need it anymore.

Nielsen laughs with delight. "Excellent! Now we can move forward. Come on, son, let's get you out of that cell. It's served its purpose."

I glare at him warily, backing into the corner. I can't fathom a reason that removing me from this room will mean anything good.

"Now, don't be like that," Nielsen chides, as if I'm a misbehaving toddler. "I'm sorry for it, but the collar is necessary. For my protection, you understand. Until I can trust you, I can't have you working spells and turning me into a barn owl or something!" He grins widely, as if I'm in on this joke. "But come on, son. I have a better facility for you, much nicer than this one. You've got a bed, and a shower, and of course a toilet. I'm sure you'd like to clean up a bit, change clothes?"

I still don't trust it. I feel like a caged animal and the only safe place is the one I already know.

Abruptly, Nielsen sighs as if he's bored and drops the friendly act. "Fine, have it your way, then. Miss Wintree?"

A wicked grin curls Azalea's lips. "With pleasure."

A handful of spoken words accompany a flick of her fingers, and a black leather strap appears in her hand. My eyes follow the line in horror to realize it's snaking across the floor and directly up my body, where it's attached to the collar by the ring that was behind my neck a moment ago. Now it sits directly below my chin.

She hands it to Nielsen smugly. "Here you are, sir."

"Incredible." His expression is awed and yet calculating, as if he's considering how easily she could put a similar leash around his neck.

After a beat, he switches his focus to me. "Alright Leaf, I'm going to ask you one more time before I make you come with me. This doesn't have to be hard; in fact, I'd prefer to do it nice and easy. Wouldn't you?"

That he's got a leash and is now threatening to forcibly remove me solidifies the feeling that nothing good waits for me outside this room. I know, logically, that it won't pay me to resist; clearly he's going to get his way no matter what. However, I can't force my body to stop fighting in the face of such an imminent threat.

Nielsen shakes his head slowly, as if he's a loving but disappointed father. "How does this thing work, Miss Wintree?"

"Just give it a tug like a normal leash. You'll see."

Without missing a beat, he yanks on the leash, hard. I was expecting a powerful pull; I was not prepared for an irresistible force that throws me across the room to land sprawling at his feet. The side of my face smacks the concrete floor, causing immediate stars to dance in my vision and a throbbing pain to spread from the impact. The rest of my body feels as though I've just been hit by a car, and I can do nothing but lie there and gasp for breath once again.

"Well, I'll be," Nielsen comments, as if he just witnessed something mildly entertaining. "I guess I don't know my own strength!" He laughs at his own joke and Azalea joins in, her affected peals sounding rather forced.

Still chuckling, Nielsen crouches by my side. "Now, I'll give you another shot, son. Are you going to walk, or is this how it's going to be?"

My attempt to answer shoots immediate fire down my throat, so I nod in response, gasping for breath.

"Good, we're understanding each other. Now, why don't you hop up and we'll head to your new room."

Trying to ignore the shooting pains across my body, I force myself from the ground and bring my feet beneath me, standing shakily. My vision is blurred, my head spinning, but I stay erect and try to appear uneffected by the shocking blow.

"Good boy," Nielsen comments, as if he's training a rottweiler who just performed a trick. "Now we'll head out the door and swing a right. As long as you don't resist, I won't pull, understood?" I nod again, and follow him stiffly when he walks toward the doorway that Billy disappeared through a moment ago.

Azalea's heavy boots clomp behind me, and once we pass through the door, Nielsen says dismissively, "That's all, Miss Wintree. I'll call you when we need you."

I don't have to turn and see her face to know his abrupt dismissal pisses her off. "I think not," she replies hotly. "I have a vested interest in making sure-"

"That's all I said!" Nielsen thunders. "If I have further need of your services, I'll let you know. Now get out! Billy, will you kindly show this witch to the door?"

Eager with anticipation, I turn to watch Azalea's reaction. If she loses her shit for just a moment and strikes him, there's a chance he'll drop the leash and I can make my escape. Grannie could certainly undo the spell on this collar, and then I can go back to Smoky Falls.

But it's a vain hope. Despite her face turning red with fury, Azalea doesn't make a single move against Nielsen. Billy approaches her cautiously, gesturing her down a hallway that splits from ours, and in a huff, she turns on her heels and stomps away. "You'll hear from me soon!" she shouts back at us threateningly.

Nielsen acts as if she doesn't exist and continues down the hall. "Come along, son."

I fall into step a few paces behind him, supremely aware of his grip on the leash. This place is like a maze; I try to keep track of all the lefts, rights, and forwards we take, but my brain's too muddled and given that I arrived with a bag over my head, I don't even know how I got to my old cell from the outside.

It's obvious when we reach my new room: two guards are already waiting outside. My heart is absolutely racing in dread of what's coming, but I follow Nielsen dutifully through the door.

To my utter surprise, the room has all the things he promised. There's a comfortable-looking bed, a nightstand with a lamp that emits a warm glow, and a dresser. A stack of towels and clean clothes sits on the bed, and a doorway to the left reveals a small bathroom.

It's not until I turn to my right that the full story hits me. Where the left side is a snug little space with a decidedly cozy feel, the right is an industrial wall-to-wall metal cage like you'd expect to find in a kennel. The interior is nearly featureless except for a large, sinister looking drain in the floor.

And directly behind me, just outside the cage, hang a number of torture devices on long poles, locked in a clear plastic case. Some look like sharp stabbing or cutting instruments, and one I'm fairly certain is a cattle prod. I don't know what half of them are, which is even more disturbing.

"See?" Nielsen gestures. "Just like I promised."

The memory of the searing pain when I tried to speak is still at the forefront of my thoughts, so I keep my mouth firmly closed. My eyes dart to him in alarm, and he knows what I'm thinking without me having to say it.

"Well, son, now that you're here, we have a minor problem. I can't claim you as my heir, truly, until you shift and prove you're a wolf under that sheep's clothing. I didn't build this room for you, mind. It's common for some folks to need help connecting with their wolves. So we have a program and it's actually quite successful; often people just need the right motivation if they're struggling to shift."

Seeing my disgusted expression, he pats my shoulder in what I suppose is meant to be a reassuring way. "Don't worry, son, we don't start with the hard stuff. Tonight you'll get yourself cleaned up, have a nice meal, and a good night's rest in a cozy bed. Tomorrow we'll get to work at Level 1. And if that's all it takes, the better for everyone. But if you don't respond to the treatment, well… let's just say things get a bit more complicated. For those who struggle, we find that sharing the room with the cage, even when you're not in it, is extremely motivating. I hope you won't learn that lesson tomorrow."

And with that, he unhooks the leash from my collar, smiles benignly, and strides back through the doorway, whistling.