Series of Death, Draft 02, CH 53 (Patreon)

Trembor looked at where Marlot pointed. He’d have seen it, once he was done looking for people hiding in the darkness on the ground floor. The flickering lights in the office didn’t have the strength of ceiling lights, closer to that of a screen, but it was enough to show the person moving back and forth inside it. Only an outline, but he thought he made out long ears, one of which was bent back. That could be a hare, liked the one who had attacked him.

The office was on the other side of the space. He’d have to cross the floor in the open, but he wouldn’t have to get close to any places he could be pounced on from. With the lack of anyone watching the area, it would be easy to get there, so easy only an idiot wouldn’t go there first.

Or realize this had to be the trap.

The clear destination this indicated, along with how easily Jockon had been able to follow the van here made Trembor’s hackles stand on end. Even if he believed Bo was held in that office, there was no way he was going there by the path whoever was orchestrating this wanted him to use.

He headed into the rows of shelves on the right. It wasn’t only the people behind this who could take advantage of the darkness.

“Trem,” Marlot hissed, his voice low. “Nikal’s up there.” He caught up with him. “He’s who has your brother.”

“Then you go deal with him,” he replied, peering into the darkness. “And turn off the light. You’re giving us away.” He needed to find someone, one person he could get to tell him where everyone was, where his brother was being held.

The light turned off. “Why are you heading away then?” the wolf asked.

Trembor stopped to give his eyes time to adjust. “Because even prey can tell when something’s too easy, and I’m not prey.” He made out a structure in the extreme low light and headed for it.

“Trem, slow down, I don’t see as well as you in low light, you know that.”

“Then leave. They don’t care about you.” He slowed on noticing what had to be a window in the wall. Lions weren’t the only ones with good low light vision. The mole had a few felines he knew of. There was no telling how maybe others were here.

“Who is this ‘they’ you keep talking about?” the wolf asked.

Trembor rounded on the wolf who almost walked into him. “That’s none of your business,” he snarled. “None of this is.”

Marlot breathed deeply of the air between them, and Trembor fought against doing the same. He ached to bask in the wolf’s scent, but reminded himself that was the addiction speaking. The thing the wolf had carefully ensured would happen. And he was so fucking proud of himself, Trembor was sure of that.

“You know,” Marlot said as Trembor turned his back to him, “I can’t help feeling like we’re chasing the same scent, but expecting different prey from it.”

There it was, the tone. The wolf was mocking him. Reminding him who of the two of them was right, was always right. He told himself to ignore him. The wolf was goading him. He wasn’t doing it in the same way Gorrek had, but then again, Gorrek had been his own kind of abuser.

“Look—”

“Really?” Trembor asked, rounding on the wolf again. “You’re really doing to go off about how I’m wrong? That you always know better than me?” He clamped his muzzle shut and cursed himself for playing the part the wolf wanted him to. He headed to the wall and approached the window, listening for anyone behind it. He made out the door and counted on the light being too low to see through the glass as he hurried across.

“I didn’t say that,” the wolf said, and Trembor kept from growling. It was like he was more interested in having this argument than remaining hidden. “I’m just trying to understand what you’re doing so I can help you.”

“What does it look like?” He tried the knob and pushed the door open when it turned. Darkness inside, too much for him to make out anything. “I’m looking for my brother.”

“He’s up there, with Nikal.”

Of all the. Trembor faced the wolf’s silhouette. “Are you seriously telling me that the all-mighty predator that you are can’t smell a trap without your programs to tell you it’s there?” He paid attention to their surroundings since the wolf clearly wasn’t. “Why are you following me? Go do what you want. It is what you always do any, isn’t it?”

He had the impression Marlot looked away guiltily. Was he actually getting through to him? Was he finally acknowledging all the time he asked for advice and then still did what he’d planned on, anyway? How many times had Trembor had to comfort the wolf when one of his thoughtless plans blew up in his face?

Okay, not as often as he wanted them to be right now, but the wolf still never learned.

“I just don’t think—”

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” Trembor said derisively, turning to the open door and activating his pad for the little light he needed to see. If there had been someone in there, they would have acted by now. “Unless it’s about you computers, you never think, Marl.” Equipment. The room had no other exit. Storage of some sort.

“That’s not fair,” the wolf replied, sounding hurt.

Trembor’s ears folded back. No, it wasn’t. He shouldn’t have said that, but he wanted the wolf out of his fur. He didn’t need the reminder of how he’d used him. He didn’t want the craving having him within touching distance caused. He had to focus on his brother. He wished the knowledge the wolf was an abuser would be enough to fight all other desires toward him, but if being away from him for weeks hadn’t done it, being able to smell him like this was only making his desires grow.

He headed deeper into the building, almost smacking his head against a conveyor belt that suddenly dropped before him. He realized they were out of the shelvings and back into the mess of conveyors. He couldn’t make out a path anymore. Going through there would be a mess of walking around them, possibly over some. It would be a maze. Was that the best way?

He turned to Marlot, was about to open his muzzle when he noticed the wolf’s ear cant forward in expectation. Was that a smirk on the wolf’s muzzle? He couldn’t tell in the low light, but it was definitely a hint of excitement on his scent.

Trembor couldn’t believe he’d been about to ask for his opinion. Not only they weren’t partners, but that had almost certainly been a reflex the wolf had trained in him as a way to make sure he checked with him before doing anything. Gorrek had been a master of letting Trembor think of his submission to the other lion was his own decision, until he hadn’t bothered pretending anymore.

Still, he admitted to himself as he walked under the conveyor belt and navigated his way through the maze. Marlot had had a way of making the discussion good. Trembor missed having someone to talk with.

He turned, ducked under and stepped over, turned again, looked around for any kind of reference point. The light came from high, dirty windows high in the walls, but was diffuse enough he couldn’t tell where it came from, so he had no idea how close to the walls he was. He had no idea where he was in relation to the loading dock.

He ground his teeth. He was lost, and Marlot was still there, behind him, probably waiting to point it out. Trembor wasn’t giving him the satisfaction. He picked a direction and walked.

As he ducked under yet another conveyor belt—did these things go anywhere? Or were they just there to confuse people?—something sliced at his ankle and he swore, stepping back and into the wolf.

Marlot caught him and smelled far too happy about it.

“Trem,” he said, “I smell blood.” A beam of light came from his pad and the wolf pointed it down as Trembor stepped away from him, careful not to hit his head. The conveyors were everywhere.

“I’m fine,” Trembor said, looking down. His pant leg was ripped, blood-stained it; he felt the wetness in his fur. He looked for what had caused it, found drops of his blood, and then the uneven edge of the conveyor belt along the floor. He’d stepped too close and those sharp corners had cut him. In the light, he saw more places where the conveyors’ sides had dangerous burrs.

Maybe that was what the lawsuit was about, an unsafe working environment.

The wolf stepped around him, shining his light around them. “Okay, stay behind me. I’m taking the lead. I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt.”

“What the fuck?” Trembor grabbed the wolf and shoved him behind. “I’m not your thing to order about.”

The wolf stared at him. “What is wrong with you? I’m not ordering you, I just don’t want you to get hurt. This place is clearly dangerous, and as good as your eyesight is in the dark, it’s not good enough.”

“Oh, and yours is any better? Since when have you been able to see in the dark?”

“Since I wasn’t so stubborn as to turn on a light to see where I’m going.”

“And tell everyone here where we are!”

“Who the fuck is this everyone you keep mentioning! It’s one male, doing all this because he wants—”

“Oh right, all of this is about you! It’s always about you! Well open your eyes, this isn’t about who this time, it’s about me and my brother.”

The wolf rubbed his face. “Trem, there isn’t any they! It’s Nikal, the hare from the gym, from the house where he attacked you. He kidnapped your bother to get to me. It’s my fault he’s in danger.”

Trembor laughed nastily. “Because everyone knows that the best way to lure the mighty Marlot into a trap is to take my brother!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” The wolf replied condescendingly.

Trembor stared. How fucking dare he use that tone on him. “I don’t fucking need you here! I never needed you! Don’t you get it? That pitiful act isn’t working anymore. I can’t believe I ever fell for it. I am not yours. I never was!”

Marlot took a step back, almost tripping on a low conveyor. “I didn’t—”

“Bury it. I’ve got no interest in smelling it.” Trembor turned and found a path that took him away from the wolf.

“Trem,” The wolf called after him. “I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel like—”

“I don’t care!” Trembor turned and almost hit his head on yet another conveyor. “I don’t need you running my life!”

“Come on,” Marlot replied. “I never did that. I’m trying to help, look at yourself you’re so out of it you don’t even know where you’re going. Just let me take you back to somewhere safe.”

Trembor stiffened. “Safe? You don’t want to keep me safe, you want to keep me to yourself. I am not yours!”

“I never said you were!” the wolf yelled. “Are you fucking listening to anything I’m saying? I’m trying to help!”

“No! You’re fucking controlling me! You don’t give a fuck about anything else! Leave me the fuck alone!”

“No!” the wolf crossed his arm over his chest and glared at Trembor.

For an instant, with the pad’s light shining in his direction, it wasn’t a wolf before him but a lion. Gorrek, ready to impress on him just how unhappy he was with Trembor’s belief he had any say in what was happening. The sting of the cut was now the memory of a broken leg.

Then it was the wolf before him again. Marlot, pissed and ready to impress on him what happened when he was displeased. Fear gripped him and he gripped it back. Shredded it apart with his anger. He had thought he’d dealt with it. That he’d never have to be afraid again.

He would not be afraid. Not of the lion, not of this wolf. He’d promised himself fear wouldn’t drive him ever again. He wasn’t going to let it do that here.

“You are never going to hurt me again!” Trembor turned and stormed away from the wolf, barely dodging the inconveniently placed conveyor belts. He ignored the wolf calling after him. Shut out his voice. He still made out the order to return and buried the fear again. The pain would only happen if he did obey.

The belts eventually muffled the voice enough he couldn’t make out the words, and finally he could believe he was free from them forever.

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