"Do you think we should check his pulse?" Gimmel asked, finally breaking the suspenseful silence of us just staring at the still and now vulnerable body of Christopher Maultner.
His whole weight was still on the elevator contraption because he had thankfully not fallen forward. I imagined if I shifted half his weight off, I'd be an accessory to his plummeting to certain death.
I was a softie at heart.
I was not about to let Christopher Maultner die on my conscience. Then I would be no better than Riza and Maude; those two bitches. I grabbed his ankles and yanked him off the elevator which then went its merry way down. I thought it was a good sign that he was not bleeding, but there was a big nasty bump on his scalp, underneath his shiny mop of dark hair.
"He'll live!" I proclaimed. "I should tie him up." In my rush of innovation and resourcefulness, I pulled off his shirt. I was bedazzled by the resulting sight, almost numbed into lady worshipping awe. I missed Ara. Ara would understand my gushing at the smooth skin riddled here and there with dark coloured scars. The lines of muscles. The abs. The letter V that travelled down into his jeans. I gulped.
"Get a grip, get a grip," I chanted and looked up at the sky, searching for some sort of surcease. He was my enemy. He had plans! He was going to stop me from stopping Freur from getting mated to Maude. I had a mate besides. Freur Ferdinand was built just as good. I took deep breaths as I shredded Maultner's shirt to become a common strip of clothing— an improvised rope. It took significant effort because my hands had morphed back to its normal feminine state.
As quickly as I could, I tied Maultner's hands behind him and secured his feet front of him. Finally done, I stepped backwards to observe my handiwork, my hands on my waist. A half naked glorious looking man resting against a tree and looking like he was starring in a low budget BDSM film.
"Yeah, I don't think that's going to hold him when he wakes up," Gimmel acknowledged my unspoken thoughts. I winced as I thought about how mad he would be. "Maybe we should just push him and let nature run its course on his life."
"I'm too young to be a murderer, Gimmel."
"So you're just gonna leave him here?"
"What? Do you have a better idea?"
"I already told you my better idea."
I threw my hands up with exasperation. "I am so done with you Gimmel. He's going to be unconscious for a while so we already have a decent headstart. Let's not try and push our luck." I emptied the bullets from his gun and pocketed them. I took his money and his boots which were a little too big for my feet but which I wore anyway. Then I coursed through the forest, increasing the distance between me and the damned Christopher Maultner. I followed the hum of the moon river so I could reverse engineer my navigation to get back to the Sanctuary. It was still daylight, early noon if I had to guess. If I ran, I would be out of the woods in under ten minutes. I had to find a way to get to Freur Ferdinand before the ceremony tonight, a way that would not involve Maude or Riza.
"I'm not so bad to be with, am I?" Gimmel queried out of the blue as I ran.
"Maybe if you shut up so I can pretend that you aren't here," I said unfriendly.
"I don't want to be here either," Gimmel insisted for what seemed like the umpteenth time. I just wished she would stop repeating herself like some broken record. I cued to ignore her. If that hurt her too much, maybe she could just go and bring Ara back.
In considerable time, I broke through the trees. My first impulse was to make it home as soon as I could so I could refresh myself. But there was a cafe in my view and I thought it wasn't going to be long before I crapped myself. The pole sign close to the entrance read Wanderbilt. I was an explorer, but I had never noticed this particular cafe before. I chalked it up to it being because I did not patronize businesses in the Sanctuary. Now I was drawn towards the comforting and sturdy structure. Wanderbilt was painted a bright blue hue— an unusual colour for a cafe and it had Christmas tree lights haphazardly hung around its exterior. It's front yard was bare but I could care less about the front yard. It had no trees either on its premises meaning the only place to seek comfort for shade was within the cafe's walls.
When I entered the cafe, I could clearly tell that it was an unpatronized enterprise. Although the interior was beautifully appropriate, it was utterly devoid of customers.
"Ah! A customer!"
My head snapped towards the ecstatic voice that came from the cafe's counter or checkpoint. Well, now indeed they had a customer, me. The owner of the happy voice was a plus sized woman who looked to be in her early forties with brown shaggy hair which she packed in a bun and blue eyes. She beckoned me forward with a thick bejeweled hand. She had a vanity in jewels— fake jewels. On her head was a stone encrusted tiara and a diamond hairpin. Hiding her fleshy neck were clusters of necklaces; chokers, gold, pearls, strings, name them. She had arm bands on, bracelets and rings. Even her shirt was made of sequins that darted light everywhere like a party strobe light. Her name tag read 'Tiana'.
"Do you guys have a restroom I can use?" I asked as soon as I reached her.
Her excitement dropped a bit but she pointed it out to the side. I nodded my head in vague thanks and went towards the enlightened direction. The restroom stalls were gratefully empty. I locked the main door to it and leaned against it.
"What the fuck!" I whisper yelled.
Gimmel perked up with curiosity. "What?" She asked.
"What the fuck. What the fuck. Oh, this is so fucked up."
"What is?" Gimmel whined.
I rolled my eyes. "Ara would never have been this slow."
"Forgive me. I was about to go into sleep so you could easily pretend like I'm not here in your head as Ara's replacement." Gimmel was getting bold.
"The pictures on the wall, the symbols. They are characterised to a cult."
Gimmel sniggered. "I doubt that woman knows what a cult is. That sweet chubby woman? No way."
"It's always the innocent ones, Gimmel. The arm bands on her arms had the same symbols. Of course I was surprised the cafe didn't have customers but I'm not surprised anymore. The cafe may not be designed to have customers. Gimme a second Gimmel, I need to crap so bad."
I ran into a stall where I swiftly conducted my business. There was tissue, soap and water supply. I cleaned as much dirt as I could from my skin.
"I'm back for speculation Gimmel."
"While you were crapping yourself, I have indeed had the time for speculation. If the Wanderbilt cafe isn't designed for customers but Tiana saw you and screamed 'customer' so loudly, it is safe to assume that they have a different description of what a customer should be. A different sort of people they are trying to attract."
"A member. She must think I'm a member of whatever game they're playing at that they had to involve an obviously sinking business in."
"Hmm, she seemed so sure. Clearly, she has you mistook for someone else."
"Flourescent," I seethed. I thought smoke would pour out of my ears as I envisioned my enigmatic model of a sister. Perhaps the reason I had never tried to impersonate her was because I did not want to be in her shoes that bad. Having all that responsibility, and comportment, and social regard. Her life sounded burdensome, aside from the fact that she was a mini celebrity in the Sanctuary.
Gimmel chuckled, amused at my expense. "What kind of cult are you thinking? Sell my soul to the devil, fountain of youth, yadah yadah yadah."
I shook my head. "A Lycan cult."
"A Lycan cult? In the Sanctuary?"
"It's really sinking in now, isn't it?"
Outsiders would always believe that the Sanctuary was home to the most exotic wolves but over time, it was hoped by the Sanctuarians (more than five hundred years later, mind you) that the hype would eventually die down; and every outsider would come to terms with the fact that the Sanctuary had no wolves (which was in its own way true).
The direct opposite of our expectations was apparently happening. Within the boundaries of the Sanctuary was now a cult that believed in werewolves. It was easy when the outsiders were looking for just wolves.
"This is rather inconvenient." I placed a hand to my temples. "The mating ceremony is tonight. There's a new moon and a blue moon. They'll be very likely to find what it is they're looking for."
"Knowing the Sanctuary, what they're looking for is death. And your sister is somehow connected. I wonder if she is helping them. Well, how would you like to proceed?"
"Extremely carefully Gimmel. Flou is a dearly beloved, it is in her natural charm. I don't see the cult turning on her neither do I see the Sanctuary. Apparently, not only do I have to stop my mate from marrying a murderous bitch, it's also up to me to cut off this so called cult from its roots. Here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna go out there, order a coffee to boot and run the fuck as far as I can."
"What if they want you to stay?"
"Simple, I'll just tell them I'll come back. Are you ready?"
"Yeah, I'm ready."
"Alright, on my count. Three, two, one." I opened the bathroom stall. On the unplanned sight before me, I froze.
"Well," Gimmel drawled. "This is usually the part where Ara says shit. So, shit?"