《Plastic Bones》Chapter 7
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Krista hugged her father, tears blooming in her eyes. The sun shone on her auburn hair, generating a distinct hue that artificial light couldn't reveal. Tribune Vernor Knowles stood a half head taller than his daughter, even with the height her ponytail added. She stepped away from him with a smile. Vernor batted at his daughter's nose, inherited from her mother. She had lost weight and seemed frail, but he wouldn't point that out quite yet.
"Yeah. They said I couldn't talk about it."
Tribune Knowles understood. He had been briefed about the situation; the Quorum government was covering up the attack. He looked out the window of the shuttleport, over his daughter's shoulder, and watched as a transport accelerated along the launch tracks, roaring, and arched up into the blue sky.
Vernor took the inexpensive duffel bag from Krista and threw it over his shoulder. He turned to leave the spaceport. He passed through the lobby where letters carved from marble and plated in brass had been inset under the floor, spelling out the words "North American Launch Facility - Cape Breton." The letters had been made from a solid gold alloy when the spaceport first opened, but enterprising thieves blasted the letters out of the floor with explosives. The stolen letters had been replaced with resin wrapped in gold foil, and after security foiled an attempt to remove them with a similar method, the current set had been installed. Near the glyphs, under a centimeter of transparent enamel, a sign indicated that the floor contained no precious metal.
Tribune Knowles struggled to find time to receive his daughter, but he didn't have a choice, and explained that he had to return to his office. He gave her the keys to the condominium and money for cab fare. He returned to his car and drove for forty-five minutes.
He returned to base's entrance and plodded down the steel-and-concrete stairwell to an elevator situated on top of a metal grate. Inside the cube, he pressed a button, raised a badge, entered a key code, and presented his eyes to a scanner. The device lurched into motion, dropping down and across, stopping hundreds of meters under the ocean floor.
The elevator could have been called obsolete. If it were, the facilities were antique. Walls were constructed of solid concrete blocks, old and covered in layers of paint applied with no attention to detail. The floor was made of poured concrete, visible in places through thick layers of old glue that no longer secured carpet. Footfalls, only Vernor's own, echoed with the sound of wood-heeled shoes.
He was surprised to find his area empty; a young Artifex snapped a salute as she entered, hearing the sounds he made investigating the desks.
"Sir. Everyone's in the conference room. You should come."
Vernor nodded and sighed. The wrinkles in his face had gotten deeper, his hair lightened since he accepted this post. For the first couple of years, the gray gave an air of maturity, but lately, he seemed more tired than wise. He followed the young officer into the conference room. He didn't recognize her, but turnover was high and this was not unusual. She held the frosted glass door of the conference room open. Inside, a group of men and women sat around a video screen, watching with panicked focus.
Four pointed coins sparkled on Vernor's shoulders as he sat at the table under the low-hanging lights. He recognized the face: one of the Uran Conscriptors. His aide, Tribune Third Class Mikkelson, passed him a piece of paper.
The Ura demanded that Prime Benefactor Wilson step aside, and that the appointed government be dissolved. The video had been pre-recorded and produced with a level of sophistication and skillful manipulation typical for the Ura. The Conscriptor made his demands in few words and detailed the contents of the stack of papers in front of Tribune Knowles. Vernor noted that everyone at the table had their own original copy.
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Mikkelson paused the video. "Sir, we've been going through the papers. I'd recommend taking a look."
Vernor nodded and perused the documents. He had suspected their contents; he wondered whether the Ura were trying to avoid drama in pressuring the government out of power, or whether they were attempting to enlist the aide of the Quorum military. He knew other groups might be sympathetic.
The documentation didn't reveal anything fatal, Vernor thought, but he knew the material within could be spun in a way that would demonize the Quorum. Civilians would perceive the government as acting with malice towards the spacers living further into deep space. Vernor sighed, and gestured as his aide continued playing the video.
The Conscriptor was eloquent. He threatened in a subtle way that belied an agenda after the Gorman attack. Military leadership understood that the Quorum couldn't sustain an assault upon the Gormans and had no hope of engaging two entire sectors. The crisis spun out of control when the Gormans used inchworm weapons on a Quorum station. Public opinion wouldn't support an appropriate response. Vernor knew his government's hands were tied, the Central Office would issue orders in support of damage control.
The video finished and Knowles peered around the room. He was one of a hundred in the Quorum government who would be expected to make decisions that would set the course of the whole military. He was relieved that his name was not in the documents. He was not without his own indiscretions, and he had cordial relationships with several of the men and women who had been called out for corruption.
The leaks would run deep. The Ura had too much information. Knowles wondered how they had managed to run such a widespread intelligence program without Quorum knowledge. Occasional lapses were expected, but the information on the documents had been coordinated and corroborated. The Quorum perceived the Gormans as theocratic zealots, but respected their code. The Ura seemed to be anarchists following an unpredictable personal philosophy that defied accountability. Knowles suspected the real reasons for the distrust would become apparent.
***
Krista sipped hot chocolate with her mother in the plush living room. The area was unkempt. Books lay strewn about the luxury condominium, magazines were splayed across two sofas and a large center table. An easel stood in the corner near a curtained window with a paint-stained palette hanging from a hook. Jennifer Knowles appeared young for her age and had shared her pouting features with her daughter.
"You don't see dad much anymore?"
"Not as much as I'd like. You know I love your father. It's fine. I keep busy."
Krista looked over at the paintings, stacked, sorted, and piled around the room. Her mother's talent was considered world-class, and her work sold for thousands of credits. Krista did not inherit that artistic talent and lacked the ambition and sense of duty of her father.
"What happened, Kweebo?"
Krista shook her head, and sighed, puffing out her cheeks. "I'm not allowed to talk about it."
Jennifer put her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. You can talk to me. I'm exempt from the rules. Just ask dad."
Krista smirked. "Our station got attacked. Er, pirates, they think."
"Pirates? Tsk. You could have found a job at home."
Krista shook her head, discarding the concept. "There aren't jobs here, mom. Besides, I wanted to make my own way."
"There are jobs. Besides... you didn't get hurt, right?"
Krista said, "Mom... I lost my legs."
Jennifer felt blood rush to her head. "Lost your legs?"
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Krista nodded and kicked her bare feet back and forth. "The roof... ceiling... fell on me when the station was attacked. I have robot legs now." She watched her mother's eyes well with water, not understanding. She wiggled her toes. "It's ok. They look fine and everything."
Jennifer wrapped her arms around herself. "Your father didn't tell me this."
Krista curled up on the couch, pulling her legs under her body. "He doesn't know. Please don't tell him. That's why it took me so long to get home."
"I won't, but you need to. He would want to know."
***
Knowles returned to the condo frustrated and angry. He had orders from the Prime Benefactor to develop new strategies to deal with the Uran engagement. Benefactor Wilson had ignored his incrimination - seemed to ignore any path that would resolve the swelling threat of violence, and focused on taking revenge for the humiliation of the highest level of Quorum leadership.
Knowles watched his wife and daughter playing at an old board game in the living room. He didn't have time for enough sleep, and wanted to spend a moment with his family. Jennifer prepared a glass of iced brandy for her husband and asked him to join them.
"Krista, I'm sorry I had to send you home in a cab. Things at work are difficult."
"I understand, dad. Mom and I always have. You're an important person. I'm just glad I got to see you."
Vernor smiled, but the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes remained taut. "I'm impressed you got home on your own."
Krista asked, "What can I say, except that I'm my daddy's daughter?"
Jennifer laughed, snorting liquid from her glass of syrupy wine. "Suck up."
Krista shrugged and gave her mother a silly smile. "I learned from the best."
"Krista, I'd like for you to stay with us. I know you're a grown woman, but it's hard for me when I'm not sure your safe. It's your choice. But you'd be doing your old man a favor by sticking around. Give it a year. At least."
Krista said, "Yeah. Dad, I had my adventure. Two years out in space was enough for now. Besides, mom has terrible taste in carpeting, and I need to help her out."
Vernor frowned. "I picked out that color."
Jennifer giggled. "Darling, when do you have to be at work tomorrow?"
"Too early. I'm hungry."
"Dad, I'll fix you some leftovers. Mom and I ate because we didn't know when you would be home."
Vernor was used to this, knew that his wife wouldn't have been awake if Krista hadn't returned. His wife ate alone most nights. Earlier in his career, he would think about her in his office as the sun set each night, and wondered why she accepted his absence. Years of that regret had numbed him to her needs. He wanted to deny it, but military obligations were his first priority, his career the second, and his family last. Vernor needed Jennifer to make up for his equanimity. She was the passion in his life, and he wondered whether his wife would continue to tolerate his unfairness as he sacrificed the last of himself for a cause and people he believed in.
Krista left for the kitchen and put together a plate of the spicy mushroom-and-noodle platter they had ordered in for dinner. She couldn't hear her parents whisper over the sound of the oven.
When she turned around, her parents had gone. She heard footsteps creeping upstairs and decided she would return the plate to the refrigerator. The food would keep. She shouted up the stairs that she was heading out for a bit, called a cab and headed into the city.
***
Devon Sanders stood in the causeway leading to the crew's shuttle, and the others were there with him. Ina couldn't imagine why her crew would meet with Sanders, but they had, and she panicked. She was surrounded, she couldn't turn back, so she committed.
Ina pulled a small ceramic knife from the plastic sheath at her leg and rushed at the scientist. Sanders stared with surprise at the charging form. Colin dropped his shoulder and bowled into Ina's chest. Colin shouted something Ina couldn't make out as she rolled backwards. Her limited view of the floor told her that a shadow was passing overhead.
Powerful muscles pulled Ina off the ground. Her feet and legs kicked just once at the air while strong arms wrapped under her arms and moved her shoulders back and towards her spine. Ina placed her feet on the thighs of the figure, stabilizing herself, gripping the knife in front of her waist. She could not move.
Bronco's voice was distant when he spoke to her, "Ina! Stop it! I'm your buddy, helping you here, girl. Calm the fuck down! Drop the blade!"
Understood. He was her "buddy." She stared at Sanders through focused eyes and let herself trust Bronco's words. The weapon fell to the floor with a dull thud. Ina's face, emotionless through the encounter, swiveled away from Devon.
"Why are you here?"
Bronco's muscles trembled with the sudden exertion. He was concerned about hurting his companion, so he lowered her to the ground. He pulled her close to his chest, holding her tightly. Bronco's gaze fixed on Colin, as Ina her hands came to rest over Bronco's massive wrists.
Ina closed her eyes, searching for time to let the situation calm, and opened them moments later when Rolf came screaming out of the shuttle airlock.
"Damnit, Ina, what the hell? Is this going to be a thing?"
Dr. Sanders looked at Rolf and took a smart tone. "I doubt that."
Sanders was clean, dressed in business clothes that were both elegant and unpretentious. His face, with a few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, carried an air of comforting strength. Despite his size, few would look at Doctor Sanders dressed so and feel threatened, and those might struggle to find the cause. Ina felt ashamed.
"You're angrier than I expected. Strange. So you remember me?"
Ina relaxed in Bronco's arms. "Devon Sanders. Why are you here?"
Dr. Sanders looked at the girl. "I came looking for you. A mutual acquaintance helped me find you. I'm not here to cause problems or to stand in the way of whatever life you're trying to make. I need to talk to you, to understand something."
Ina glared across the corridor. "Bronco. Release me. Please."
Bronco complied and Ina fell forward under her own inertia. She angled a quarter turn to her right and dropped to a sitting position, slumping against the corridor wall. The knife was nearby; she grasped it, to Bronco's discomfort, and slipped the blade into her sheath. Sanders glanced at Rolf, then his eyes turned back to Ina.
"It's about 171. Do you understand why that happened?"
"Illegal research. The Ura felt obliged to put a stop to what was going on. The Ura felt obliged to harass the Quorum."
Rolf glanced sideways and something flickered in his eyes.
Devon was pleased by her response. "Right. Basically, yes. You and I were involved in just one project together. The kind of things the Ura weren't supposed to find out about, things they could use to blackmail the Quorum. You know, our lives were to be sacrificed for the greater good, to hide the darker things that were going on. Except you and I both survived. Others did too. Some people view that as a problem."
"Ok. What do you want from me?"
"I think Marshall uploaded something after the attack began."
Ina glanced at the crowd forming in the docking corridor, all familiar faces, and crossed her arms over her knees. "I don't know anything about anything like that."
Devon ran his hand through his gray locks. "Ina, Marshall is alive. He's looking for you. The reason I found you was because... It doesn't matter right now. We can talk about it later."
Ina understood. He used the tracker, which meant Devon had likely been involved in the installation of the device. And his discretion was an indicator that he was concerned with how she perceived him. He could have played this conversation differently after she had tried to attack him. She looked at Bronco and continued.
"I will not attempt to harm him. Probably."
Bronco sighed, struggling to understand.
Rolf took this as a good sign and made deliberate body language, letting his guard down.
Devon nodded.
"He's with the Ura, and they are after the both of us. If we can figure out why, we can use it against them."
"Ok. I don't know anything about what Marshall was doing during the attack." Ina searched for words for a moment. "I was awake before the attack started. Nothing happened. I would know."
Devon shook his head. "Trust me for a moment. Eh, that's a concept, huh? Can you entertain the thought that I might have something to tell you, that could be of value to you?"
Doctor Sanders looked to Rolf and asked for some time to talk with Ina in private.
Rolf gazed towards Ina with a question on his mouth.
She nodded with acceptance.
The crew returned with reluctance into the shuttle and closed the airlock.
Devon hissed as he spoke. "They aren't after you. They don't care about what you are or why we made you. They are only after what you know. They think you know something. I do, too. You have a data store that is encrypted with the Quorum's best cipher. If you didn't have the right access codes, and I'm certain you don't, the data I'm looking for would seem like garbage." Devon paused for a moment before continuing. "Like uninitialized data. And it's not something that's really part of you, except that it's inside you. If I hacked your communicator, could you promise me you would know? It's like that."
"Ok," Ina said. "You want a dump of my external storage? So many words just to fail to ask for that?"
Devon bore a defeated glare. "That's all. I have all of Marshall's crypto, anything that he left on any system in the lab. And you know as well as I, everything passed through there."
She thought about it for a moment. The external store held nothing beyond some of that dead intern's books, an encyclopedia, some video, and the data from Emily.
Ina stood. "Why do you know that Marshall is alive? He wanted me to die."
Devon laughed, chagrined by the questions. "Damn. Because the Ura got to me, too, ok? I know something about what they are looking for. The Ura know about you, about the data store, and if we give it to them - decrypted - they promised to leave Marshall and myself alone."
Ina's chin ticked upwards. "But not me."
"I didn't know about you when we made our agreement with the Ura. I'll work something out. They'll move stations to get what they want. When I found out these guys had you... I thought the situation was different."
Ina turned towards the wall. "I wish you had died on N-X-171."
Sanders laughed, his voice slightly trembling. "Yeah. You made that clear when you saw me. Ina, what do you really want?"
"Most likely the same thing you do. To be allowed to exist according to my own terms."
Sanders rolled his eyes. "As if. You think you know how to make a life? Everyone except me thinks you jumped down a recycling hatch. They don't know where this data's coming from. Give me what I want, I'll go away. And that's it. But on your own terms? You'll have to figure that out. No one gets that. Sorry."
Ina looked back over her shoulder at Sanders. "If I kill you, no one would know about me."
"Again, as if. I paid your 'friends' enough money to ensure their loyalty. I think they'd sooner chuck you into a recycling duct than me. We didn't talk... before... I have a question. I don't want an answer. I'm just asking after you rushed me with that knife. Ina... are you a problem? Do you want to hurt people?"
She blinked. "I thought you came to kill me."
Devon came close and touched her face gently. "Damn. Can you spare a few kiloseconds and we'll get this over with? You can bring anyone you trust. Shit. Ina, I promise I won't hurt you. Ever. I just need leverage on the Uran government so I can get what's left of my life back. When we're done, you'll have that same leverage, too."
***
Rolf and Colin sat just inside the ship, watching the exchange from a hidden security camera. They had promised Sanders they wouldn't snoop if it came to this, but neither wished to leave Ina to the lion.
In the grainy, low-resolution video, the pair saw Ina stand and offer a hand to Sanders, who accepted with a relaxed grin. The pair disappeared down the corridor; Rolf and Colin stared at each other and shivered, each accustomed to watching crew members disappear into the cold dark.
***
"Glad to see you again," Layla said. "What are you drinking?"
Ina shook her head. "Anything. This is supposed to make things better. Doesn't work."
"Ah, you've had a long cycle, hmm?"
Ina's eyes traced the crimson hair. The texture was interesting, with shadows weaving in and out of the curls and waves.
"I ran into an old friend."
Layla grinned and her eyes sparkled. "Well, at least no one tried to kill you."
Ina forged a smile in return, then leaned into the worn chair made of recycled plastic. "I didn't think anyone would find me in this location. I'll have to find a new spot."
Layla said, "Ah, I was too forward... earlier. I'm sorry for that. Don't hold it against me. I was a bit drunk, even before Arius and I met up with you. He was supposed to banter with his brother until we'd leave with an insult. Just trying to smooth things over."
Ina said, "I am uncomfortable regarding such things. What you asked me to do."
Layla's eyes lit with delight. "That didn't show. We never got around to talking about the work, earlier. Can I tell you now?"
Ina knew she was being teased, but didn't care. "You can tell me whatever you want, but I'm not certain the crew will want to hear about this from me."
Layla was taken aback. She had wanted the girl to express her vulnerability in a different way. But such things must be tolerated for progress.
"You're alive and kicking," she said. "What happened? A falling out?"
"Someone from my past appeared. I tried to hurt them. I believed it to be that sort of situation, but my crew did not agree. I was stopped. They were right." Ina turned. "I've humiliated myself and I've lost their trust."
Layla admired Ina's symmetrical face for a moment, then spoke in the sweetest tone she could muster. "Well, that's business, I suppose. We all have history. Surely this isn't the first time you've been stung by the past. If it is, lucky you for making it this far, now get fucking used to it."
"In perspective, I believe I was wrong. I lacked necessary information to make a decision regarding assault, but I attempted to take action. There will be consequences. I'm not in a position to make mistakes, yet it seems inevitable."
Layla stretched, arching her chest, and let her hands fall behind her head. "You've got it all figured out. What matters is how you move forward, right?"
Ina shook her head. "I believe I should return to the ship and determine whether I am welcome."
Layla said, "Give me a second... let me explain things about this job to you. I'll walk you back to your shuttle while we talk. If they aren't interested, let me know so I can find someone else."
Ina agreed and listened. The pair walked towards the shuttle. Layla veered off as they came close, promising to return to her own ship.
***
Rolf swore at Colin. "That bastard said he just wanted to... I thought... shit, I don't know what I thought. I didn't know he was after Ina."
Colin asked, "Pathik, any idea who that screwball was?"
Pathik shook his head. "Negative. I thought he was writer or something."
Rolf slumped in the chair on the command deck. "Ok. We should just leave. Should we just leave?"
Colin looked at Rolf, concerned. "We haven't made a credit here. Ross needs to get patched up off-site and can't afford a shuttle. You've scared another pretty face away. Yeah, we should get out of here. This place was a dumb idea."
Bronco walked onto the deck. "You haven't chased her off yet. She's back. Wants to know what happens now. What do you guys think?"
Rolf stared at Bronco. "Don't know. Figure it out yourself. I'm fucking tired."
Bronco shrugged and left the deck, and shrugged again at Ina, who was waiting in front of the air lock. "Rolf is a mess. I'm sorry to tell ya, but he's been a mess as long as I've known him. If I can tell ya a secret, he doesn't leave his crew in a bad spot."
Colin stepped out of the command deck and stood beside Bronco. The extruded-metal door clonked closed behind him. "Okay. Bad day for everyone. But let's lick the wounds, suck down the pride and not forget about Ross who's got a hole the size of Bronco's nose in him."
"My nose ain't that big."
Ina looked at Colin. "What do you propose?"
"Let's head back to Liberty. We'll find facilities at the station or maybe beyond. This place isn't panning out."
Bronco said, "Right."
Ina's glance at Colin turned into a stare. "What did Doctor Sanders pay you?"
Colin shook his head. "We didn't know what he was up to. He said he just wanted to consult with us. He didn't say anything about you. I promise."
The stare turned into a glare, as Ina remained expressionless. "I was told you were paid enough to betray me."
Colin shook his head. "No one told me that. We thought he was just some journalist with cash. It happens."
Her stare continued.
Colin gulped. "These things happen," he promised.
Ina gazed at the medic and remained motionless as a statue. Bronco broke the silence.
"Ok. It's already been done. We've got issues, or we don't. Make a decision. No one paid me to betray anyone," Bronco nodded at Ina.
"Reassuring." Ina's gaze moved back to Colin. "Layla Tal and Rolf's brother have work for us."
"No, they do not," Rolf rebutted as he came down from the command deck.
Colin looked at the boss sideways, and decided to stay out of the conversation.
"... and I don't want anyone's charity, and especially not my brother's ..."
Ina shook her head. "They say they can't do this on their own. Rolf, if you don't accept the offer, they will find someone else. I understand the job. This makes sense."
"So you're on his side now, is that it?"
Bronco looked at Rolf. "Boss, did we sell her out?"
Rolf spat on the floor. "Bronco, no. Ina, no. That crustacean scuttled aboard."
Ina looked at Rolf. "You didn't take money from him?"
"Well, it's not quite like that. Look, he said he wanted to interview us, and would pay us for our time. Just like that." Rolf blinked. "That job made sense, too, and damn it, if someone else asked right now, I'd probably take the offer. We aren't making expenses. Bronco's got enemies, Colin's got enemies, so do I. These things happen. If you can't get over it, get off my shuttle. Otherwise, fuck... it was four hundred credits. My share's all yours."
Rolf looked at Bronco with pleading eyes.
Ina shot a look at Colin. "Ok. We aren't making expenses. Would you take the work from Layla and Arius?"
Colin shook his head. "That's unfair. It's Rolf's brother, and if he thinks it's a bad idea, so do I. Besides, you haven't told us anything at all about this job, and there's still Ross."
Rolf sighed and handed his communicator to Colin. "Ok. We need the work. Colin, look at this. Arius sent a message, so just read it and take me out of the equation. My brother's got a ticket for Ross back to Liberty. If we take whatever offer Ina's got for us. What do you think?"
Colin skimmed the message, and pondered for a moment. "How does he know about Ross?"
Ina frowned. "I told them."
Rolf scowled. "That wasn't your place."
"Ross needs help. Your brother has the resources to resolve his injuries."
"Fuck, Ina. You're pissed at me because you think I betrayed you, but give me one damned reason to trust you. I'm still waiting for you to call the Quorum hit squad on us. That shit with your buddy Sanders, that's the last fucking-"
Ina stood, knocking her chair to the floor, and took two fast steps towards Rolf. "I was not Sanders' colleague. I was the experiment. This is why I wanted to hurt him. My situation is complicated and you don't understand at all."
Rolf's face blanched white.
Colin looked at Ina, stunned. "Ok. Experiments? We don't know anything about that. Let's simmer down, ok? We're all exhausted. Rolf, is there any reason your brother would let you take work that'd get you killed?"
Rolf released his hand from the fist that his subconscious formed. "Probably."
Colin asked, "Ina, what's the job?"
Ina said, "There's an armed cruiser, derelict, that pirates are attempting to recondition and steal." Her eyes flicked to Rolf. "Yes, that one. The pirates require a megasecond to complete the operation. Layla has been hired to destroy it before this happens."
Colin said, "All we've got to do is drop a surprise near a dump of a cruiser, and Ross is safe and we're a few thousand credits richer? You know this ship can do it. And there's that special cargo we've got to unload. I do not want that stuff on this shuttle any longer. So might as well."
Rolf looked at the ceiling and groaned as he gave up. "Whatever. Tell my little brother I'll be his lackey yet again."
The statement was punctuated as Rolf vanished out of the common area, towards his quarters.
"I don't know nothin'. But if Rolf's brother thinks this is a good idea, we'll pull it off. You ok? You need to talk? This why you had to go to that tech bay? Whatever Sanders did to you? Ina, I got you, ok? I'll fuck him up if we find him again," Bronco added.
Ina shook her head. She thought she had more self-control than this. "Bronco, I'm fine. I should not have said anything. Let this go. Leave Sanders alone."
Pathik's voice clicked over the announcement system. "Well, that was dramatic. I guess this means we should all get some sleep. Any more fighting and I'm dumping sleeper into the air chillers."
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this is a story about Marcy (me/OC) AND Raph and their crazy love story starting from when they first met, to their proposal
8 162For the Taking
Mates are gifts. Mates are two halves of a shared soul.Mates were created for each other.So then why was I cursed? Why am I unable to shift let alone find my mate?It's been nearly five years since the time I should have been able to shift. I have long given up on the fact that I was defective and broken. I had two werewolf parents, but it didn't matter, I was still human.Over the years I've kept myself in the shadows of my own pack. I was unwelcomed and didn't belong. I was the black sheep. No one wanted a weak link in the pack and I, to them, was a weak member, unable to pull their load. If I couldn't pull my load and I had nothing to really offer my own pack, they soon saw me as a nuisance. Just another mouth to feed. I was a shameful excuse for a werewolf. ~A mate is a target.A mate is easy prey.A mate is the quickest way to weaken an alpha.So, when I laid my eyes on her I wanted nothing more than to reject her, but I couldn't, not while he had his hand wrapped around her throat. I couldn't let him, or anyone know who she was to me. I had to take her with me where I could keep an eye on her from a distance. But I should have known that distance was subjective. She'd be the death of me.Updated: Weekly⚠️Mature Content⚠️
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