He climbed straight up the embankment. Canyon packed his equipment into a rucksack, hoisted it onto his back, and followed his brother.
47—Betrayed
Sage jogged down the passage, rubbing her hands compulsively on her jeans, rubbing all the magic off. Once through the passage, she got in the golf cart and drove to her car, hoping not to run into anyone, especially Nana White. She needed time to process what she had seen, so she drove slowly, her mind turning over what had happened, and what she’d seen and heard.
Treatment wasn’t far, but it wasn’t at the Inn. Nana White spent a lot of money on medical research focused on curing White-Whittinger disease. The research and treatment were done in a building on the west side of the sinkhole. Sage was currently the only family member in treatment. Everyone else either didn’t have the disease, had gotten a hysterectomy, or weren’t old enough yet to have their first period.
The road was empty, letting Sage drive as slow as she wanted, thinking about what she’d seen, barely noticing the towering trees lining both sides of the road. A family on bikes—visitors to the Inn—passed her, then disappeared into the forest on a trail. The turnoff to the facility—a modern, two-story, professional building that looked out of place so deep in the forest—came up on her left and Sage pulled in, still musing. She parked in the lot, next to several cars then found the front door unlocked and went inside. The entrance area was quiet and the whole place seemed empty. The research facility was far down a sterile hallway to the left. Sage went the opposite way, heading for the treatment suite.
She pushed inside the door slowly, her eyes on the floor, her mind in turmoil. There was so much going on, and she was about to spend the next three days flat on her back, unconscious, and that seemed ridiculous. What about Reynard? What about Khain? What about her family?
The suite was set up like an apartment with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a full kitchen and open living room. Both bedrooms were locked, and Sage had never been in them. She dropped onto a couch, staring at the two hospital beds, IV poles, and a full medical crash cart across from her. The nurse would come in soon and give her an I.V. with the medication that would knock her unconscious. As long as she didn’t move, there was no chance she would bleed out, and her periods were medically controlled and always short.
Down the hallway, the door opened. Sage turned to see who it was.
BAM.
She was hit in the back of the head with enough force to double her over, causing a strange sense of something entering her mind and her being, filling her up, changing her in ways she couldn’t understand.
Sage’s brains scrambled, her sense of smell exploded, making her stagger for a minute—even the silverware in the drawers had its own unique scent. She stood there, still doubled over, hands to the bed so she didn’t fall, breathing hard, sorting scents, and trying to catch her mental balance.
Strong memories and knowings fell into her head:
The bleeding disorder was a ruse. Khain the demon wanted her personally, and could track her personally, because she was related to the witch-bitch, Abigail White. Witch-bitch somehow stole Sage’sfoxenessence right out of her body, and that hid her from the demon, and this had startedthe moment Sage had been born.
Sage had lived the first 14 years of her life thinking she was non-shifting, with no ability to speakruhi… but then she’d gotten her first period. She’d gone to treatment, but instead of an I.V., she’d been slammed in the head with her ownfoxenessence and learned the truth—that witch-bitch had to give herfoxenessence back to her every time she got her period, or she would go feral and wild, completely uncontrollable—but when she had her essence, Khain could find her instantly, so witch-bitch brought her here to these rooms and hid her with magic every month.
Sagecould shift, she had arenqua,andshe could speakruhi, but only while she had her animal essence.Witch-bitch might be protecting Sage, but she was also controlling her, lying to her, andusingher.
Sage stood up to her full height, just over five feet of pure fury, and shifted, a hard, painful shift that strained her every cell, making her groan in agony, until she was a petite red fox, yipping in absolute rage, her clothes in a heap on the floor.
Sage twisted and ran for the door, ran for Nana White, the scheming old witch-cunt-BITCH, to tear her witch throat out. The door slammed. Sage hit the door mid-leap, knowing it was locked and sealed with magic. She bounced off and whirled around, biting at anything and everything. She leapt down the hallway, then jumped on couch, table, chair, wall. She ran back to the door and rammed into it several times, throwing a full-on fox temper tantrum. She ran back to the living room and ripped up pillows, jumped on the counters, then back to the floor where she dug into thecarpetand wood floor below in mindless bursts of livid anger.
Underneath and behind her anger at witch-bitch there was something more, something primal, something absolutely rageful. Her anger at the demon Khain. It festered inside her, building, forming, and coalescing into something monstrous,and unnamable—something she could not address for now. She left the monstrous anger stewing in the dregs of her emotional mind and focused on witch-bitch, digging, clawing, and biting at everything in sight.
Eventually, she ran out of energy, she ran out of breath, and her head hurt. She had to get herself together. She backed up, nose down, tail drooping, breathing hard, trying to think, but her brain was on fire with fury. Here she wasagain, trapped in this building for three daysagain.When her period was over, witch-bitch would again rip herfoxenhalf out of her and leave her just a shell of herself, without any memory of what had happened. In three days, she wouldn’t remember any of this, until the next time.
Sage turned in a circle, pacing on slender fox legs, trying to calm herself down. Scents came at her from every direction, rich and turbulent and overwhelming. She bounded up on the coffee table, then hopped from couch to hospital bed to counter, then down again. She needed space. She needed to run. She needed to be free. She neededso much.
She shifted to human instead, hoping for a clear head. She pulled her clothes on, then went into the bathroom to prepare for her period. There was no disease, she wasn’t going to bleed out and die—she was just stuck in the treatment suite until her period was over. It was magically tied to the moon and always took only 72 hours from spotting to done.
Sage came out of the bathroom and paced around in the suite of rooms, thinking hard. She didn’t know how the witch took herfoxenessence, but Sage knew where she stored it: in that creepy dead fox she wore around her neck, and she had Paisley’s essence in there, too.
When Paisley was born, Sage’d had her essence, because it had to be given back during the last trimester of pregnancy, for the same reason as during her period. She’d birthed Paisley righthere, in this collection of rooms, and then witch-bitch had taken Paisley’sfoxenessence immediately, not giving her time to shift one time. Witch bitch hadn’t even let Sage see if Paisley had arenqua.
Sage paced around the room, thinking, but every time her thoughts landed on the witch-bitch, she got angry, and lost her concentration. She took some deep breaths and tried to think about how to get out, how to get free, without being waylaid by her own emotions. She needed a cool head.
She sat on the couch and put her head in her hands and just breathed, talking to herself. “Ok woman, get yourself under control. Don’t think about her, just think about yourself. Think about Paisley.”
She pictured her daughter’s sweet face and smiled ever so slightly. That worked. That helped. Feeling better, determined to escape, Sage jumped for her feet and headed for the door she’d come in. She’d tried to smash her way through it in the past, but she’d never been able to damage it in any way. It was magically sealed, locked, and protected.
Sage paced down the hallway, turning the problem over in her mind, until she remembered something important.
She could see magic now.
48—Mysterious Mister Whites
Canyon and Timber prowled through the forest, melting into it, easily avoiding the cameras, following the male.
