Chapter 15
Sandra
My plan has gone down the drain.
I'm being carried in Mark's arms as he enters the building that can only be his company.
Escape?
Forget it.
There's no way to escape with so many agile and dangerous supernatural beings all around, not easily. I'm trapped.
Employees pass us in the corridors and stairways, stopping to stare, some frowning, others seeming to find me entertaining and smiling at me, but no one dares to say anything.
Mark doesn't care about the attention on us.
He pushes open a door and we enter a large office, where Ted is leaning against a long table. The bear smiles broadly when he sees us and looks like he's about to crack a joke, but he holds back. Perhaps out of respect for the work environment... or because there are two other people in the room.
A red-eyed vampire who doesn't seem to react to my presence, his expression impassive on his handsome, pale face.
And a man with long brown hair and dark green eyes. He smells like an alligator and approaches with a toothy smile, raising his hand as if to pet me.
Before he touches my fur, Mark steps in and lets out a low but threatening growl.
"Understood, boss. No touching your kitty." He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step back, still smiling.
"Let's get straight to the point." Mark wastes no time, leaning his hip on the table while holding me firmly in his arms. "Jack, updates."
"I'm supervising security for tonight's charity ball." The alligator man takes on a professional tone. "As the event is predominantly for humans, I've selected 80% of the team from among them. The rest are supernatural beings."
"Great." Mark nods. "Ted, what about the new recruits?"
"Of the eight newly hired sentinels, five are ready to begin combat training. And one of them..." He pauses, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "One has already arrived ready."
"Which one? I reviewed the profiles. The most promising was the polyshifter."
"Exactly. Zephyra. She has the ability to transform into various winged creatures, from small ones to huge and ferocious ones."
"Interesting. Today I'm starting physical training with the new recruits. If she's as good as she seems, I'll put her among the sentinels in action."
"Right, boss."
“ Viklaus?”
The vampire finally moves, crossing his arms.
“No new incidents with humans seeing what they shouldn't. But my team tracked down the identity of the supernatural killed by the Wendigo.”
“Who was it?”
"His name is Benny, new to town. A rabbit shapeshifter."
My body stiffens and my claws come out, scratching Mark's biceps. He pulls me closer to him, as if my tension is contagious.
He looks at me briefly, his jaw clenched, before returning to his relaxed posture.
"Did he have a family?"
"Yes, we notified his wife."
A knock on the door interrupts the meeting and my thoughts about the person found dead: the treacherous individual who was indirectly responsible for me being trapped in this form.
"Yes?" Mark's voice sounds firm.
A woman opens the door but does not enter.
"Mr. Tharros, your nine o'clock appointment, Balthazar, is here."
"You can send him in in five minutes."
She nods and leaves.
"Good work," Mark says to the three men in the room. "Now, back to your posts."
Everyone leaves, and we are alone for just a moment when another knock echoes on the door.
It opens, revealing a man with long, grey hair, whose age is unknown — he appears to be between thirty and sixty years old.
The smell that accompanies him is unmistakable: a mixture of dried herbs and potions.
A wizard. He carries a rectangular leather briefcase with metal locks.
"I brought your orders, Beast." He places the briefcase on the table and opens it. "The enchanted collar and the healing acceleration potion."
Oh, I had forgotten about the damn collar...
I thought I would have escaped by now!
Shock comes first, then anger. My fur bristles, and a low growl vibrates in my throat. But when the wizard opens the briefcase and takes the object out, my indignation is crushed by something worse: a cruel sense of irony.
Of course it had to be beautiful.
The black velvet ribbon is luxurious, soft, elegant. In the centre, a teardrop-shaped emerald sparkles in the light, reflecting deep shades of green. A sophisticated, classic piece, exactly the kind I would choose to wear around my neck.
If it were a simple choker, something I could take off whenever I wanted, I might even like it.
But it's not.
It is a collar.
And enchanted!
"The connection will be immediate. If she gets lost or is in danger, you will be able to sense her and find her." The wizard places the collar in the palm of his open hand. "But to complete the spell, I need you to drip a drop of your blood onto the stone."
No. No. No.
Stars, please help me!
"All right," Mark murmurs, then holds me with one arm while the other reaches out.
I see his black claws emerge, until he pierces his thumb with the tip of one of them and lets the tiny drop of blood touch the emerald. The stone absorbs the blood immediately, sparkling intensely, as if emanating its own light, before returning to its normal colour.
"Now just put the collar on her, and you're done." The wizard holds the edges of the ribbon, pulling it until it stretches beyond what it should, but without breaking. "It comes with a comfort spell included. All my products are created with shape-shifters in mind, they fit all sizes."
Mark murmurs in approval.
Oh, thank goodness. If I manage to transform back, I won't die strangled, but I don't want to get to that point.
I lash out in a frenzy of wild movements, writhing in his arms, arching my body, digging my teeth into his arm and scratching everything within reach with my claws in a desperate attempt to break free.
I won't wear a bloody collar!
My feline cry explodes, a sharp growl, as I fight against his firm grip. My rapid breathing makes my chest rise and fall as I struggle, my muscles trembling with the force of despair, but Mark doesn't give in, he doesn't even seem to feel the pain.
"What about the healing acceleration potion?" he says, unshaken, adjusting his hands and arms around my writhing and twisting body. "Do you guarantee that it works, even for non-supernatural beings?"
"Certainly, I imbued my own essence into it. For that reason, the price is higher." Balthazar picks up a tube, similar to toothpaste, and places it on the table. "It's in cream form, as you requested. Apply a thin layer to the wound, and you'll see results immediately."
"Okay. Leave everything on the table and leave."
"O-of course." The man hesitates. "Thank you for your business." He bows briefly before rushing out and forgetting to close the door.
Now's the time, I need to escape before it's too late!
I dig my claws deep into his skin, feeling the warm blood beneath them. But he doesn't even react. The wounds close instantly, as if they had never existed.
"Calm down, Kitten," he murmurs. "I won't hurt you."
My hind legs kick the air, trying to find support to escape, but it's useless. His arms are a cage, and my own body betrays me, weakening as exhaustion overtakes me.
Mark holds me securely, without squeezing too hard, just supporting each of my attacks as if they were nothing.
"Calm down," he whispers against my ear, the vibration of his voice running through me, "or you'll end up hurting yourself."
My heart pounds, my mind screams to keep fighting, but exhaustion weighs heavily on me. My attention falls on the collar on the table.
Beautiful. Perfect. A cruelly ironic detail.
Because no matter how beautiful it is, its meaning is a sentence.
If I run away, he will find me.
I can't fool myself into thinking that just ripping it off will solve everything. It's enchanted. A connection forged by magic, and magic like that isn't easily broken.
Mark loosens his grip slightly, allowing me to catch my breath, and when he puts me on the table, I see an opportunity.
I dart to the side, preparing to jump to the floor, but I can barely gain momentum before I'm grabbed again.
A huge hand wraps around me, strong fingers circling my back and ribs, holding me firmly. My body struggles again, this time weakly, feeling the stitches pull and the pain throb in my skin. Trapped in one hand, I have no way to escape when he grabs the collar with the other.
"Sassy little cat, I need you to stay still." His voice is low and authoritative. "Please." He softens his tone, and I can do nothing but obey.
Mark takes the black velvet ribbon and slowly positions it around my neck, adjusting it gently.
The emerald stone rests against my skin, just below my throat.
Its initial coldness sends a shiver down my spine, but gradually it warms up, the dormant energy awakening at my touch.
Then a soft pulse emerges, subtle as a whisper, as if the stone had a heart of its own, beating at a rhythm that resonates with mine.
Mark takes a step back to observe me, his eyes scanning my figure with an intensity that makes me uneasy. He reaches out and touches the gemstone with his fingertips.
"It matches your eyes."
His expression softens, and his lips curve slightly, a subtle smile, but one laden with silent satisfaction. My heart races, not out of fear, but for reasons I refuse to admit.
He slowly raises his gaze to mine, staring at me intensely, as if he wants to engrave his next words on my soul.
"Now, wherever you go, I will find you. And if anyone tries to hurt you..." He pauses, his eyes shining with something dangerous. "I'll be there to kill them."