Gwen
So far, it had been a perfect morning. I was tired from staying up too late and getting up too early, but I just couldn’t sleep past seven AM no matter how tired I was. I wanted to go get a second cup of coffee from the kitchen, but there was no way I could leave Victoria alone down here. I’d had my first cup along with my own breakfast, before I brought hers down. The Packleader ate first, even if Vicky wasn’t around to see it.
When I heard the water turn on, I peeked in just to see if she had gotten in the shower and wasn’t preparing a trap or something. I certainly wasn’t trying to get another look at her, it would have been wrong to enjoy how pretty she was in this situation. With a small smile, I made my way over to my favorite chair, rather than the folding one I’d been sitting in. Pulling my laptop out of the duffle bag, I settled into the old, worn blue recliner. This had been Granddad’s chair, and whenever we weren’t working on something, this is where he sat, smoking a cigar, having a glass of something or other. I didn’t smoke, couldn’t stand the stuff, but I had a box of cigars in the office all the same, and I’d light one from time to time just to smell him.
Even though my life had been disrupted, I couldn’t let it disrupt my business - the business that Granddad had built with his own two hands, that I had inherited from him. I pulled up my email, flipping through orders.
But I found myself reading the same paragraph for the third time, and sighed.
My mind was elsewhere. Of course it was elsewhere, I had a werewolf prisoner in my basement.
She’s not a prisoner. I have to help her. I don’t want to hurt her.
I was very pleased with how the weakness formula was working, she didn’t seem to taste it in the eggs and bacon. I saw the shiver go through her - feeling cold was a sign the concoction was working, that it was disrupting whatever magical connection she had to her bestial side. She was off-guard, I was going to be able to make her physically submit, which should help in getting past that stubborn anger. Once she recognized me as her Packleader - which was an instinctual thing, from what River had explained - I’d be able to be a lot sweeter, gentler. The way I wanted to be with her.
Vicky seemed to enjoy the shower yesterday, I was hoping she’d realize that here, she didn’t have to struggle. She could shower every day, never have to hunt for food, never worry about where she was going to sleep. As long as I was her Packleader, I’d keep her safe and comfortable. Honestly, I was looking forward to giving her a hug.
She needed one.
Victoria probably hadn’t had one in a long, long time, and it showed. She needed tenderness, she needed understanding, she needed safety. And maybe once she realized that it was possible for someone to care about her, once she realized that she was worthy of love, I’d be able to teach her, introduce her to River’s pack.
Maybe her story could still have a happy ending.
Going back to the emails wasn’t easy, but it needed to get done - I stopped again when I heard a sudden sound from the bathroom.
It sounded like vomiting?
And a thud. That was definitely a thud.
The next thud was my laptop hitting the ground as I stood. Wincing, I rushed away from it, to the bathroom. The shower was still running, but I couldn’t see Vicky through the frosted glass. I shot a look behind me to see if this was an ambush, if she was going to hit me from behind, but I was alone.
“Victoria?” I called out, surprised at the amount of fear and worry in my voice. Ice cold water was streaming down upon her naked body in a heap on the ground, the remnants of her breakfast washing down the drain. I didn’t even think to turn the shower off first, I just reached in and pulled her into my arms. She was freezing. The cold water pelted me as I lifted her, wrapping her small body in a towel and sitting her up on the toilet. She was groaning, a soft sound of pain coming from her. “You okay? Are you sick? What happened?”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding when she lifted her head.
Squeezing her arm, I lifted her chin, trying to look into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Her hands gripped my arms as her stomach convulsed, as she retched with nothing left in her, just pain. Her hands tangled in my shirt, gripping me. “Fuck you.”
I almost laughed from the relief I felt. If she was good enough to swear at me, there was hope.
“Let’s try to get you warmed up. You’re freezing.”
I felt terrible as I toweled her off, wiping the cold water from her body and trying to massage some warmth into her.
“Wolves are… “ Her head lolled as I lifted her, carrying her back to the main room. “Fuck… “
There was a heavy winter blanket waiting for me in the storage room, I knew exactly where it was. I carried her like a bride, like a princess, snagging the blanket on the way and holding it under her. Looking around the room, I sighed as I came to the only real conclusion.
“Well… the cage has the softest thing to lay on.” I felt rotten as I carried her back to it, sliding her gently into the cage and covering her with the heavy winter blanket. “Want something to drink? Water? Ginger ale to settle your stomach?”
She wasn’t coherent anymore. She laid there on the floor of the cage, whimpering.
“Fuck.” I laid my head in my arms against the side of the cage. I hated myself in that moment. I didn’t want to hurt her, I just wanted to level the ground between us. I had to show her… “Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck… “
Running a hand through my hair, I tried to decide what to do.
I spent hours with her, countless trips running up and down the stairs, fetching water, soda, some crackers, anything I could think of. I tried to put as many fluids in her as I could, hoping to wash the toxins out of her system.
The book didn’t say anything about this, and it didn’t say any way to undo what I had done. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to tear the page out of Granddad’s book, but I did leave a very large warning on the page.
Followed this recipe. Wolf got very sick, vomiting, chills, unconsciousness.
Do Not Use.
I ran over how I made it in my head again and again and again, trying to figure out where I had gone wrong. Granddad had been adamant that magic and witchcraft were different. Said he had met a witch who explained things to him, gave him some of the recipes in the book.
Magic, he had written earlier in the book, came from the self, influencing the world. You were either born with it or you weren’t. There was no learning it. Witches were like werewolves, supernatural creatures that mixed with humans… but they weren’t. Witchcraft was using the world to affect others. Combine the right ingredients, things that had some supernatural effects on their own, things that had a connection to worlds we couldn’t see, and you could affect supernatural things.
There were instructions on how to use otherwise normal-seeming plants and fibers to make charms to ward away spirits. There were recipes that supposedly let you see whether an individual was human or something else. And there were several concoctions for dealing with werewolves.
I knew monkshood was poisonous, possibly fatal to humans in relatively small doses, but werewolves were immune to most toxins. I had ground it correctly, I had diluted it correctly, I had mixed the ingredients correctly… in the hours I sat with Vicky, stroking her face, her hair, holding her close and trying to keep her warm with my body, I went over how I had made the potion again and again and again, trying to figure out what I had done wrong.
But I couldn’t think of anything - other than Granddad just had a shit recipe.
When she started sweating, I nearly wept. She had groaned a few times, mumbled a few words I couldn’t make out, but she hadn’t said anything coherent and she hadn’t opened her eyes for more than a moment or two. Mopping her brow, I fretted over her, helping her take another few sips - the mixture was starting to wear off. I gathered up my things and gave her space, grabbing another bottle of water and two bottles of ginger ale. That was another thing I had gotten from Granddad. When anyone was feeling sick, out came the ginger ale.
I didn’t know if it worked or not, but it always seemed to make me feel better.
“I see you’re finally awake again.” She stirred, moving in the cage, looking up at me through heavy-lidded eyes, and gave me a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Best day of my fucking life.” Vicky wiped a hand across her face, wiping the sweat away. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
I froze for a moment, surprised that she had been aware at all. I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Least I can do. My point has never been to hurt you.” Gesturing to the drinks I had put in the cage, I added, “Stay hydrated.”
It was difficult to tell how genuine she might be, whether she was being honest. My instincts told me the chances were low - she had been wandering for years. I doubted that she had a lot of people who cared for her.
The hiss of my own ginger ale bottle rang out as I opened it, taking a sip, hoping to cover my half-truth. "Can't say I know why you got sick like that. That feeling will probably pass."
“I hope so.” On trembling arms, she pulled herself up, turning so she could take the water bottle. "I got so cold... I haven't felt cold like that since... " She shook her head, taking a drink. "My mom wouldn't touch me if I was sick. Well, she wasn't my real mom, but that's what I called her - the one I was with the longest. Dad was worse though, he'd leave the house. Actually... I don't think I've gotten sick since the change... well, except that time I... "
My heart ached for her, but it wasn’t the first time I’d heard a story like that. She looked down, uncomfortable and vulnerable.
"I'm sorry to hear that." I gave her a sad smile in return. Sympathy, hopefully received with no condescension. I couldn't relate to her pain, but I could understand how it must hurt. "That's really rough. A lot of your kind unfortunately have sad childhood stories. Human-born do at least. I'm not sure the transformation is worth that kind of upbringing."
She took a long drink of water before laying back down. "Truth is, I don't think it's worth it either. I just want humans to leave me alone." She sighed a long, weary sigh, looking up at me from the floor of the cage. "What's next? I want to feel the sun on me, what do I need to do to get you to let me go?"
If nothing else, she was asking what her fate was. It was some kind of step in the right direction, it was showing at least some acceptance of her situation. That she wasn’t going to escape. I had to be very careful here. I had to lay out my expectations and I wanted to be sure I didn't have to shift them. Consistency was crucial at this stage.
“Currently, there’s a lot of snow on the ground outside, so even if I opened all the doors to the house and let you run free, you’re not going anywhere.” I wasn’t sure I was correct on that, but there was enough that I was certain she’d have a hard time of it, especially in this condition.
It seemed good to start with the bad news. It would let me just sort of slide into the even worse news instead of just dropping it on her.
I held up the book as I tried to think of exactly how I wanted to say this. “Here’s how this is most likely going to go. I'll be following the book with my own twists. I'm going to be doing my best with you and by the end of this one of two things will happen. You don't need to know what those things will be. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
Anger was burning in her eyes. I was glad to see it. It meant she was at least feeling a little better. Which meant it was time to close up the cage.
Vicky rolled onto her back, looking up at me, too weak to even muster a glare. “I’m not feral. I don't have some sickness that keeps me dire. So I don't know what your book is going to do for you here.” She closed her eyes again, looking tired before she continued. "But whatever. Not like I have a choice, you're the alpha right?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Doesn't matter that you aren't feral. Results will be the same in the end." I shrugged and slipped the book back into my bag.
An eye opened as I moved. “You said you weren’t a witch. What witchcraft did you do?”
“I'm not. Witchcraft isn't magic. Anyone can do witchcraft, it's basically fancy baking to get supernatural effects. Think of it this way - I didn't need to do magic to make silver hurt you, silver just hurts you. If you combine things that have different inherent supernatural effects together, you get something new that does something different. Kind of like how you can combine a bunch of ingredients together and they turn into a cake."
“But… “ Her eyes went wide and my heart dropped. “You put something in my food!? What the fuck?!”
Shit. This was bad. If she was afraid to eat, I’d run into all kinds of problems - I didn’t want her to starve herself, and treats were going to be a very important part of her training.
“No.” I lied, I had to lie even though I hated it. This was too important. "I had soaked the metal on your cuffs in the mixture. Skin contact, not ingestion. Werewolves tend to be good at fighting off a lot of poisons and drugs which means it can take a long time for something like that to work. It's why I waited so long to come down this morning."
She propped herself up, looking down at the bracelets. “You poisoned me… “ Weakly, she started tugging at the bracelet. Before I could even reach out and call to her, she pulled it too far, triggering the countermeasure. I felt terrible as the electricity shot through her, pulling a gasp and a weak cry of pain from her. "I want them off!"
Her wanting the bracelets off was still better than refusing food. She hadn’t wanted to wear them before, so it could have been worse.
"I want a new truck. We don't always get what we want." I didn’t like saying it, I didn’t like being cold to her. I wanted to hold her, I wanted to comfort her, but I had to stay firm here. "The mixture wasn't supposed to make you sick, it was meant to reduce your strength. I don’t know why everything else happened."
I was glad I had closed the cage when I did - she lunged at me, her hands wrapping around metal. "That's bullshit and you know it! Turn these fucking things... " The sudden movement caught up with her and she hung from the bars, her strength sapped as she drooped. "You fucking human bitch... "
"Yeah, makes a lot of sense that I'd want to make you vomit your guts out for no reason." I rolled my eyes in frustration. "I had plans for us this morning and instead I self-sabotaged by purposefully making you sick.” I sighed, I felt like I was losing ground. Time for a carrot. “I think I'll give you a bit more time to rest and then we'll start in the afternoon. Now, do you want the TV to pass the time with or not?"
I waited, not pointing out the irony of her calling me a bitch - it wasn’t going to help.
“Fuck you, Gwen.” She laid back down, closing her eyes. “Just… fuck you.”