Chapter 2
Chapter Two
The magic slides off me like I don’t exist. I might be mostly human, but my unknown father has given me some neat tricks. Magic has zero effect on me.
The unlocked front door soundlessly opens when I pull it. I stick my head inside and take a peek.
All is quiet.
I have an excellent excuse for why I’m here. But a feeling of dread fills me. Like a good demon’s pet, I am well trained. Yet I am breaking another rule. I gulp.
I step into the dark corridor and let go of the heavy door. It automatically closes behind me with a whoosh. I jump forward to avoid the door almost smacking me on the bum.
The ceiling lights click on automatically with a hum. The harsh, bright light makes the now-grey corridor look worse, if that’s even possible. Everything is grey: the walls, the floor—I tilt my head up—yep, and the ceiling. This place is grim, and I can’t help the full-body shiver that racks me.
I stand in a square pocket of light. My nostrils flare, and like a proper nutter, I sniff loudly.
I can’t make out any scent. Not that my nose is any good —It’s not like I’m a shifter or a vampire.
Those creatures have an excellent sense of smell.
But like a weirdo, I do it anyway. I can smell horse. I snort out a laugh. What a dickhead.
I shake my head in self-deprecation. I’m glad I’m alone so no one can see me make a fool of myself.
“Hello.” I cough to clear my dry throat. “Hellooo, is anyone here? Hello? I fell off my horse, and I need to ring Sam at the stables. Hello?” My voice echoes back to me and my ears strain to hear a reply. Nope, nothing.
I shuffle down the corridor. Like something from a horror film, the lights come on with a buzz in front of me, and with a click, they turn off behind.
It leaves me with a single square of light so I can never see what’s in front of me or what’s behind.
Without windows, this building is like a grey tomb.
“Gosh, this place is so creepy.” I shiver again. Halfway down, I find an office and bingo, a phone. Yes. I make my call.
“Hi, Emma…yeah. I’ve got the snorting, sweaty monster. What do you want me to do with him?”
My legs sag with relief, and I slump against the office wall.
“Oh, thank God. Oh, Sam, it was horrible seeing him gallop off like that. The stirrups flapping and the reins dangling. I felt so helpless. Is he okay?”
“I found him running up and down the fence line of the mares’ field, snorting and screaming for their attention.
Yeah, the daft bugger is fine. I’m glad you rang; I was about to do a security alert and send the guards out to search for you.
I was so worried. Where are you? Why didn’t you answer your phone? ”
“I left my phone in my room—I didn’t think I’d need it.” I nibble on my lip and ignore her question about where I am. The less she knows, the better. “Would you please hose him down and check his legs? I should be back before you’ve finished if I hurry.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll pamper the shit out of him, not that he deserves it. Are you okay?”
“I need a new riding hat, perhaps new ribs,” I mumble, then say with a contrite huff, “I’m fine, I’m fine. It was my fault, not Pudding’s. I feel like a right idiot.”
“I don’t know why you feel like an idiot.
It’s not your fault that silly old vampire told you to hack the monster of a horse out for a cool-down.
That man has a sadistic streak a mile long.
I knew it was a mistake for you to ride out on your own.
Look, I will sort this beast out for you if you promise to go have a hot bath.
Hopefully the warm water will help with the bruising.
You don’t think you’ve broken your ribs, do you?
Ribs are the worst. I promise, Em, Pudding is fine.
Please take care of yourself, and just this once let me help you.
” I assure Sam that my ribs are just bruised, and we end the conversation with my reluctant agreement to have a long soak in the bath.
I have a feeling I won’t be able to stop myself from checking on Pudding later. Not that I don’t trust my friend, but I know I won’t be able to relax if I don’t see him with my own eyes. At the moment all I can see when I close my eyes is Pudding tear-arsing away.
I shake my head with disgust. I should have at least kept hold of the reins.
I head back down the corridor to the exit. As I hobble, I force my glum mood away. It happened, and Pudding is safe. I feel like we’ve both had a lucky escape today. It could have been a lot worse.
I hear a strange noise; I grind to an abrupt stop. I tilt my head to the side, hold my breath, and listen.
I can hear a…a dog…I think. Yeah, I can hear a dog crying in pain. I don’t even contemplate my next action. My feet instinctively follow the sounds of distress. My love of animals overrides any common sense that I might possess.
I hurry down the grey-on-grey corridor. The hum of the creepy lights follows in my wake, each square of light clicking on and off as I progress. My ears strain as I follow the cries. Goosebumps rise on my arms.
I stop when I come to an ominous-looking solid-steel door. I think this is where the sound originated. A standard gold ward wavers in front of the doorway. I swallow and nibble on my lip; I hold my breath and listen. Yes…this is the room. I’ve found the source of the cries.
What are you doing, Emma? Making a phone call is one thing; poking around in locked, warded rooms is quite another. Of all the mistakes I have made, this may be my worst one yet. I gulp. I should not be doing this.
This is the point of no return. I shuffle forward, then thrust my hand into the ward; it parts around my fingers. I grip the doorknob. “Please don’t be locked…please be open,” I whisper as I twist. The door clicks, and with a hard shove, I swing the door open.
The light from the corridor spills into the room. Cautiously —I do have some semblance of self-preservation—I keep my toes on the other side of the golden ward so it’s between me and whatever is in the room. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the dim interior.
“Oh.” My heart breaks at the sight of the puppy.
The fluffy, cream-coloured puppy with red tips on its fur is huddled in a ball in the far corner.
I rub my chest, and my eyes fill with tears.
“Poor baby.” Without thinking, I hustle into the room.
“Oh puppy, please don’t cry.” The tiny puppy—no, I’m wrong, the creature’s wild energy tickles at my senses—the tiny wolf shifter lifts its head, and my gaze meets big, soulful green eyes.
Green eyes filled with pain. The shifter continues to cry as it crawls across the concrete floor on its belly towards me.
My heart misses a beat and a lump forms in my throat.
The cries and the fear rolling off the shifter pull at something deep inside of me.
Without thought or worry that the pup is going to chew my face off, I cover the distance between us and drop to my knees.
I scoop the shifter pup into my arms. I ignore the pain in my ribs as they scream in protest. This puppy needs me.
A quick undercarriage glance, and I realise the shifter is a girl.
Oh, no. Oh bloody hell.
I swallow the building lump of now-fear in my throat. Female shifters are as rare as rocking-horse poop. Oh heck, I’ve stumbled into an impossible situation. Wars are fought over female shifters.
The pup buries her head in my neck, digging her front paws into my collarbone as she scrambles to get closer.
Each breath she takes and the subsequent cry she makes tugs at my soul.
Her puppy breath tickles the hairs on the back of my neck.
A frightened tear runs down my cheek, and I rub my face against the shifter’s soft fur to hide it.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay. I am going to help you get home, you’re safe now. I’m going to do my best to get you home,” I whisper, swallowing the lumpy clump of fear that is now stuck in my throat. I rock her in my arms.
Both of us tremble.
I rock her and stroke her soft fur. Finally, after a few minutes, her whole body sags, and she stops that awful crying.
I feel her trust.
Total trust. In. Me.
I grit my teeth as a quiet rage slithers through me. Fire sparks in my chest. It’s my automatic response to bullying, to injustice, and a quintessential need in me to help the underdog. She can’t stay here.
She can’t stay here, not in this room, and not on the demon’s estate. I’m…I’m a pampered pet, but others…they are not so lucky. I have to do the right thing.
This shifter needs me. I clutch her soft, furry body to my chest, and determination thrums through me. The need to keep her safe is almost overwhelming.
If I don’t get her out of here, something bad will surely happen. Leaving her isn’t an option.
That kind of black mark on my soul? It is not something I’m willing to live with.
“It’s much easier to fight your way out of trouble than to fight a guilty conscience,” I mumble to her.
I hug her to my chest and smile sadly. Another tear rolls down the side of my nose.
I was the girl who always played by the rules, not because I’m perfect, but because I learned to play perfect.
A neutral, calm, elegant facade. It has kept me relatively safe.
God, I’m going to be in serious trouble for doing this, but sometimes you have to do what you think is right. Even if you are punished for it in the end.
And I will be punished.
Yep, I am breaking all the rules today.