Safety and comfort were nothing but an illusion. Charles’s home was the proverbial golden cage, and she couldn’t stay.
The only problem is…how do I get out?
She hadn’t been outside since the first day, when Marcus had taken her running in the woods. She hadn’t tried, either, but Mackenzie had a feeling it couldn’t be as simple as walking to the door and opening it.
Of course, if it was that simple, she’d feel stupid for sitting around masterminding wild schemes for escape. She’d feel equally stupid if she worked out an escape plan only to find she couldn’t get out the door at all.
Reconnaissance. They called it that in the movies. Mackenzie was starting to wish she’d watched more action flicks and fewer Sandra Bullock movies.
Common sense told her it would be easier to make excuses if she didn’t seem to be trying to escape. She waited until after dinner before wandering by one of the side doors and stopping to peer out the window at the woods beyond. Even though she hadn’t been outside, she’d been practicing every night until she was sure she could shift forms easily. If she could get to the edge of the woods—
Trying to act casual, she wrapped her fingers around the cold metal of the old-fashioned doorknob. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest with excitement when the knob turned easily under her hand, and the door pushed open. She took a deep breath and bolted.
Or tried to bolt. She hit the empty space of the doorframe and stopped. It was like falling face first onto a feather mattress—not painful, but she couldn’t move forward.
Confused, she pulled back and tried again, this time leading with her shoulder. Her shoulder struck the barrier, and she felt the shock through her body as she jerked to a stop. There was nothing there. The breeze from outside blew against her face, and she could smell the freshly cut grass, hear the birds in the trees. Freedom was so close she could taste it.
She just couldn’t get to it.
“That’s some crazy shit right there, isn’t it?” She whirled to find Eddie standing across the foyer, a bottle of beer dangling loosely from his fingers. Surprisingly, he wasn’t laughing at her.
Mackenzie opened her mouth to deliver the excuse she’d carefully crafted. I just wanted to go for a run, I just wanted a walk, I just—
But Eddie obviously didn’t care. She moved away from the open door and slumped wearily against the wall. “Crazy shit,” she agreed.
“The old man has these things we have to carry so we can leave.” He took a swig of beer and shook his head. “He keeps them locked away until he needs to send us out somewhere. Hope the fucking place doesn’t burn down.”
Eddie wasn’t just drinking. He was drunk. “So everyone’s trapped here?”
He scratched his head, barely stirring his almost militarily short brown hair. “Everyone except the boss. Though I kind of always got the feeling the barriers would drop if the bastard died.”
The only thing that seemed less likely than escaping was surviving a direct confrontation with Charles. Mackenzie closed her eyes and fought her desire to sink to the floor. “Why do you do it?” she asked in a low voice. “Why do you fight for him? Kill for him? Why do you stay trapped in this house?”
When Eddie answered, he was closer. She opened her eyes to find him sitting at the bottom of the staircase. “There’s good money in it. Besides,” he added with a bit of a sneer, “maybe if there are more cougars, you can give the wolves a run for their money. Damn sons of bitches run everything.”
“I thought you were a wolf.”
He rubbed his thumb absently over the bottle. “Not to hear them tell it.” He drained the rest of the bottle and gave her a flat look. “I was attacked. Changed. I used to be human, and now I’m nothing but a mutt.” For a moment he looked vulnerable, hurt. Then he just looked like he wished he had another beer.
Mackenzie sank to the floor, pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Isn’t there a better way to change things? If I have these…magical kids, what are they supposed to do? Run around ruining people’s lives, the way yours was ruined?”
Eddie shrugged. “It wouldn’t have to be that way, necessarily. Some people want to do it. Change, I mean.”
“So you’re not going to help me.” It wasn’t quite a question.
“I might be a simple idiot, but I don’t have a death wish.” He snorted. “Even if I wanted to help you, trying would just get us both killed.” His hazel eyes softened. “Look, would it be so bad? I mean, you’d be rich as fuck, and you’d have Marcus. It’s a hell of a lot more than most people get.”
If she hadn’t known better, she could have sworn Eddie was jealous of her.
Why is that so crazy? Lots of people wanted to be rich, and Marcus was attractive, if you appreciated tall, dark and handsome men. I guess there’s no reason Eddie can’t.
The brief glimpse of humanity didn’t change the fact that he’d killed people to get to her. She pushed down sympathy and rose to her feet again. “I’m not interested in being someone’s pet.”
“Suit yourself.” Eddie shrugged and stood, as well. “But the old bastard always gets what he wants, Mackenzie. One way or another.”
“So he told me.” The smile she gave him felt sick. “I guess I won’t have to worry about it, though. If he gets mad he’s just going to wipe my personality. I won’t even notice I’m being raped. Should make it easier for Marcus to get the job done.”
He definitely looked sick. “Crazy shit.” He swayed and started in the direction of the kitchen. “If you need me, I’ll be raiding the liquor cabinet.”
“Have fun with that,” she snapped, slumping against the barrier in the open door again. It was impenetrable as ever, and she fought the urge to cry in frustration.
So much for Plan A.
Mackenzie dragged in a breath and closed the door with growing desperation. Plan A was a bust, but she’d figured it might be. Now wasn’t the time to panic. She’d go upstairs to her room, sit down and come up with a Plan B.
At the rate things were going, maybe C, D and E, as well.
Hours later, Mackenzie flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling, tears of hopelessness threatening again. Every plan she could think of involved getting out of the house. If Eddie had been telling the truth, that meant getting her hands on whatever item it was that let people come and go at will.
Something. Somet hing. It was hardly the easiest description to go on. It could have been anything, from a mystical pendant to an old copy of the Sunday Times. Even if she managed to figure out what it was, she’d have to find out where Charles kept them and determine a way to get around his protections.
That seemed as likely as surviving a face-to-face showdown with him.
Mackenzie sighed and covered her face with her hands. Time was running out, and all she had to show for it was a rising sense of panic.
Someone knocked on the door, quick and urgent, and she heard the sound of shuffling feet in the hallway. “Mackenzie, open the door.”
Marcus. She recognized his voice easily enough but, more disturbing, she recognized his scent, even through the door. She rolled off the bed and padded across the room to open the door.
For the first time since she’d met him, he looked disheveled, almost haggard. “How serious are you about wanting to get out of here?” he asked without preamble.
Her heart leapt. It could be a trap. But she didn’t know how things could get worse at this point. And what would they have to gain by it? Charles already knew she didn’t want to be here.