Beasts and Savages (The Beastly Series Book 1) (19 page)

“Good afternoon.” Locke came to the edge of the bed. He didn’t smile, but I thought I heard relief in his voice.

“How?” My voice was a hoarse whisper.

“Here.” He put a spoon of liquid up to my lips; it tasted like salt and something meaty, but I couldn’t place it. I opened my mouth and swallowed it all at once.

Locke laughed. “Easy! Take it slow.” He held up a cup, and I took a few sips of water.

I cleared my throat. “How long have I been here?”

“On the farm? For a few days. What’s your name?” He set the cup down and propped me up on some pillows. As he leaned over me, I noticed his shirt. It was red and green plaid, a pattern we reserved for overstuffed chairs and table clothes, and it had more buttons than Grandmother’s work shirts. Actually, it had more buttons than I’d ever seen in once place.

“Lea.” I folded my hands in my lap. “Where’s Tanner?”

“I see you bothered to learn his name.” His response was wry. “I’m Locke.”

“I know. Why am I here?”

“So you remember last night?” Locke's jaw tightened. He took a breath and let it out slowly. “I want to tell you, but you need to gather you’re strength first. Rest now. Tanner comes up every evening and changes your bandages. Tonight I’ll tell him to bring some warm broth.”

My eyes burned with anger and I clenched my fists. I yelled, “Tell me why I’m here. Why do you want me alive?”

Locke pointed at me. His booming voice rattled the window. “Listen girl! No one yells at me! You’re weak and in no condition to be making demands. When you’re ready, when I’m ready, I’ll tell you. Until then, gather your strength and do as you’re told.”

I lifted my chin, but lowered my voice. “I’m not a child. And, I deserve some answers.”

He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “Your will is strong enough, that’s for sure. I have a feeling your mind is clearer than we thought, too.”

“My mother will come for me. The women, they won't-” I wasn’t sure how true this was, but I was desperate.

“The women know what we tell them. We're in...negotiations... and they haven't bothered to send a rescue yet.”

“You're lying!”

Locke ran his hands over his face. “I’m angry, and I’m not talking to you while I’m angry. Sleep. Tanner will be up later.” He closed the door as he walked out, locking it from the outside.

I fumed for a while. If the women hadn’t come for me yet, would they ever? Why would he take care of me, and then be so gruff? He wanted something from me, but I didn’t know what, and I hated that feeling. I hoped that Locke would come back to check on me, and I could talk to him again. Suddenly, calmness washed over me, and I wondered what was in that broth. Before long, I couldn’t hold my eyes open.

***

A rattling key in the door jolted me awake. The light coming from the window was dimmer, almost gray. Tanner ambled in the doorway juggling a bowl and cup, a key between his teeth. He tried to kick the door shut before he set everything down on the table, but it stopped a few inches short. Small eyes peeked through the doorway and he ran to it, slammed it shut, and yelled, “Give her some privacy, will ya?” Little voices giggled on the other side of the door.

“Hi.” I wrapped the blanket around my waist, aware that the shirt I wore had bunched at my middle.

“Glad to see you’re awake.” He smiled and pulled the chair over to the bed. My stomach growled at the aroma of the broth. “Hungry?”

I almost nodded, but stopped. “Is it drugged?”

Tanner raised his eyebrows. “Of course not.”

I crossed my arms and glowered at him through narrowed eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

The corners of his mouth curled into a smile, and I had to fight the urge not to smack it off of his face. He lifted the spoon and said, “Watch.”  Tanner shoved the broth-filled spoon into his mouth and pulled it out between closed lips. “See? Not drugged. Tastes good, too. Venison and carrots.”

My stomach growled even louder. “Fine, I’ll eat it.”

He cupped the bowl and guided a spoon full to my mouth with a steady hand.

“I can feed myself.”

He cocked his head at me, doubt written on his face. “Are you sure?”

I gave him an annoyed look and held out my uninjured hand. “Give me the bowl.”

The bandage on my hand made me feel clumsy, but I managed to cradle the bowl to my chest and maneuver the spoon with my good one. Tanner was right, it tasted wonderful, though nothing like I’ve ever had before.

While I finished the broth, Tanner studied his hands, the medicine bottles on the table, the room, anything to avoid looking at me. Finally, he spoke. “Lea, I’m sorry about the basement.”

I stopped eating and met his remorseful expression. “Locke told you my name?”

He flinched. “Well, yes… and called me an idiot for not getting it myself. He wanted to know how you knew my name.” He cleared his throat. “But that’s not what I want to talk about. I want to tell you I’m sorry I didn’t treat you better.”

“Stop!” I tossed the spoon into the bowl, splashing the little bit of broth left. “I already know Locke got on your case for almost letting me die. I don't want your stupid apology. I want to leave.”

His mouth gaped, horror spreading across his features. He held up his hands, as if surrendering.

“I want to know why I’m here, where 
here 
is, and why you and Locke seem to be the only two who care if I live or die.”

Tanner bit his lip and paced in front of the window. “Okay. I told you before. I don’t know why you are here. Miller and I were under direct orders to capture you and bring you back alive. You're in our house, Locke's room, actually. Happy now?”

As he walked, I noticed small red marks on the side of his face, most likely from my bristles. They weren’t swollen and seemed to be almost healed. They probably itched. My thumb itched for a week after I poked myself.

“No,” I grumbled. “I want to know why. Where are the others?”

He sighed. “I’ll explain what I can while I change your bandages.”

“Fine.”

I didn't want him touching me, but I was too tired to fight. My head still ached and my lungs burned when I took a deep breath. If I was going to escape, I needed to heal.

He carefully unwrapped my hand and examined it. As he worked, he told me that once Locke returned, he volunteered to give up hunting animals for the week and guard me. It meant that Locke and Tanner, along with the little boys, had little meat until one of them went hunting again.

“So those little boys, they're your family? Why do you hunt animals? Don't you have livestock? And why does your hunting affect Locke?”

“I don't know what livestock is, they're my brothers, and Locke is my father.” He didn't look up as he dabbed ointment over the fading pink splotches. His grasp was warm and dry, gently turning my hand as he went.

“But you came from a woman. Your father's dead.”

He glanced at me, furrowing his brow. “No. Locke chose me at the welcome ceremony. Same as my brothers. He's our father.”

I took a deep breath. If they didn’t have livestock, how big was this farm? I wondered how many brothers Tanner had and how many were his age. “Is Miller your brother?”

Tanner snorted. “He's Dawning's son, not my brother. We share this house with them.”

“Oh.” The lock on the door was now a little more comforting.

“What about you? Don't you have girl brothers?”

I laughed. “Sisters? No. Our society ... we only have one child per family.”

His mouth twitched. “That sounds lonely.” He finished wrapping the bandage and laid my hand on the bed, his own lingering under it.

“I live with my mother, grandmother, and Nana.” I pulled my hand away and inspected his work.  It was neatly wrapped and the end was tucked into the folds. 

Tanner leaned back in the chair as a grin crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You say funny words. What's a Nana?”

“Nana is my mother's grandmother. She runs our household.”

“Your mother's grandmother is still alive? How old is she? Can she walk?” He sprang forward and gripped the edge of the chair, leaning as far as he could without falling, his eyes wide and his brows lifting into the feather of hair that fell over his forehead.

“Of course she can walk,” I snapped. I rubbed my temples through my bandage. This boy made my headache worse.

Tanner chewed his lip. “Do you want some aspirin?” He picked a bottle from several lined up on the table and opened it.

I held out my good hand and he dropped two white pills into it. I shrugged off the notion that he might be drugging me, popped them in my mouth, and took the last swig of water from the cup on the table.

“Tell me about Locke. In the basement you said he was a leader? He told me we're on a farm. Do all of you live on farms? How far am I from the woods?” I shoved the cup into his hands and held his gaze.

He stood, set the cup down, and took a hesitant step toward the bed. “My father's an Elder, they run our village. Our farm is on the edge of the woods. I need to finish checking your injuries.”

I sat straighter and leaned forward so he could unwrap the bandage around my head.