21—Sage
Sage Serenity White paced in her fox form, winding her way through the collection of rooms that was the ‘treatment suite’. She was nervous as hell, jumping from table to counter, to floor, to couch. Balancing on the back of the couch, she ran the length of it, then leapt as far as she could down the hallway. She landed, bounded straight ahead, hit the locked exit door with all four feet, then leapt away and did the circuit over again.
She’d been in ‘treatment’ for three days, and was due to get out at 5 p.m., which was still a whole hour and a half away. She was full of nervous energy, and hadn’t slept at all the night before, because she’d felt the demon Khain come to the Ula twice yesterday. In the evening, he’d even spoken inruhito someone, and she’d heard it, as allfoxencould hear what Khain said in the Ula, even if he was speaking to someone inruhi. Sometimes, they could even hear his thoughts.
He'd said, ‘don’t worry, pup, she's not at home, I checked.’
Sage couldn’t stop thinking it over.Who could he have been talking to? Afoxen? Awolven?And why? Had the Vahiy, the telling of the coming end, come to its ending? Was Paisley safe? What about the rest of her family? What was going on? Why had no one come to tell her? Even if they couldn’t let her out, couldn’t they at least tell her what was going on?
Witch-bitch, also known as Sage’s ‘loving’ nana, locked Sage away in the treatment suite every month during Sage’s period, because of the most convoluted fucking bullshit ever, but the bottom line was Sage was being hidden in some sort of a giant magic bubble, fashioned by witch-bitch, to keep the demonfrom finding her. What if witch-bitch was dead or captured? Who would get her out?
Sage’s great-aunt Mina knew Sage was conscious and locked in, instead of flat on her back in a medically induced coma. Mina had been through ‘treatment’ for six years, then she’d had her one child and gotten a hysterectomy, so she didn’t have a period anymore, and now she was free as a bird, just walking around with herrenquaevery day, able to speakruhiand shift whenever she wanted. She had to know Sage was out of her mind with worry. So… why hadn’t she come to at least tell Sagewhat was going on? Unless she was stolen… or dead.
Sage’s heart hammered in her slim fox chest. She ran through the suite of rooms again, balancing on the couch, bouncing off the door. She knew she couldn’t escape because she’d tried many times over the years. Sage stopped her pacing and returned to the door, sniffing at it, knowing she was locked in with both locks and magic. Witch-bitch had Sage’s phone and her purse and had left the building days ago. Sage had no options. She was in jail with no jailer.
Sage shook her head, making her ears fly.Get ahold of yourself, she scolded. Getting crazed inside her own mind wouldn’t help anyone, no matter what. She trotted back to the couch and leapt up to the back of it, then pitched over onto the cushions, where she fell into a quick and desperate mini nap.
When she woke up, nothing had changed. She jumped to her feet, stretching like a cat, then paced down the hallway. It was 4:40 p.m., and witch-bitch always let her out at 5 p.m.
She shifted into a human and pulled her clothes on—matching black panties and bra, jeans, boots, a purple cropped cardigan, and a black velvet choker necklace. She went to the bathroom and brushed her long, straight, brown hair, then twisted to see the back of her left shoulder in the mirror, taking one last look at herrenqua, before it was stolen from her yetagain. It was a flower with a crooked stem, and she loved it with fierce pride, but the emotion was bittersweet, since for most of her life she thought she didn’t have one, and the lack weighed on her.
Sage heard a noise outside of the bathroom. She ran out and opened the tiny metal door in the wall, revealing the mini-dumbwaiter shaft that led to the third floor. Sage resisted screaming curses and instead held her breath and listened.
After a beat, witch-bitch spoke down the shaft, her voice soft. “Get on the bed, face down. Take your shirt off.”
Sage growled quietly. “I fucking won't,” she bit out, her voice low and tight and full of years of hate.
Witch-bitch spoke again, her voice even softer. “Not Today, Little Miss… Paisley needs you.”
Terror surged inside Sage, and she hurried to the hospital bed, took her shirt off, and lay prone, whimpering her daughter’s name.
“I'm laying down,” she called out. “I won't fight.”
Magic came from everywhere, she couldn’t see it or hear it, but it slammed her flat to the bed and knocked the wind out of her, then tendrils wound around her arms and legs, securing them. Sage cried silently at the violation.
Outside the room, the door to the suite opened and someone entered. Sage stilled and listened. Her purse was dropped on the table with a thud. Witch-bitch came close, and Sage turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to see her.
Witch-bitch’s rose-water and wretchedness scent was strong, but the dry, musty scent of that awful, nasty, freaky, fox pelt she wore, was stronger.
Witch-bitch rubbed something smooth over Sage’srenqua, then pressed the fox pelt to it, muttering something Sage couldn’t hear. Sensation rushed through her body.
Some vital part of her was ripped from her… … taken—stolen. She felt empty, alone … deadened and bewildered.
Sage blacked out.
***
Sage woke up slowly, unsettled. She put a hand to her head, then sat up and looked around. No nurse hovered over her, which was unusual, but not abnormal. Her I.V. was out, and her arm was bandaged.
Her purse was on the end table by the couch at the far wall. Sage frowned at it and thought back, trying to remember if she’d left it there. She usually put it in the hallway closet as soon as she walked in the door to treatment.
Sage stepped down off the bed gingerly.
“Maria?” she called. “Yvonne?”
No one answered. Sage walked carefully to her purse, checking the clock on the wall. 5:24.So late.
Sage picked up her purse and fished her phone out of it, adrenaline spiking when she saw how many messages she had—6 phone calls and 18 text messages. Sage held her breath and scanned the messages, noting they were all from family. She opened the message from Mina first.
