Innocently Evil (A Kitty Bloom Novel) (15 page)

The mid-morning sunlight had shone warmly on my bare
shoulders and highlighted a large sign just outside the city walls, beside the surrounding forest. A map and its colorful key, although in French, appeared to suggest the beginning of a wilderness trail. From what I could see it was circular and seemed to be about five kilometers in circumference which had suited me fine. Unfortunately, due to the fact that the French language completely eluded my linguistic skills, I did not foresee that the little wilderness trail would be no more than a tiny, animal track.

Back in the forest, once my balance had substantially returned I told myself internally to let go of the tree. It took a little extra coaxing, but soon my death-grip softened and I was able to stand straight by myself. Being a sucker for punishment and
determined not to let this forest path beat me, I willed myself into a slow jog once more. I kept my eyes glued on the path in front of me, analyzing possible dangers or annoyances as they neared. Eventually, I started to get the hang of it with only the slightest stumble here and the odd scratch from an ambitious branch there. Soon, my mind began to wander and I couldn’t help but think back to my conversation with Mum.

I hadn’t wanted Mum to know the truth about why I
was heading off for a run. It might have seemed obvious, but it was better than telling her outright that I needed to go away and sort things out, that I wasn’t sure if I could ever fully trust her again. I just couldn’t bear to see that familiar look in her eyes proclaiming her failure. Deep down, I knew she hadn’t failed me, she was only doing what she believed was right and I couldn’t hold that against her. But then again, that also meant that I didn’t have to follow her decisions blindly when they directly concerned
my
life.

What had worried me most about our little talk was
how
Louis Tiennan had convinced her to come back to Saint Jean, because knowing my mum, it wouldn’t have been an easy task. I had to wonder what he’d done to tempt her, besides offering her a cure for her problem. None of the thoughts that came to mind involved anything innocent. Louis Tiennan, like his son, was probably a professional when it came to manipulation. I still hadn’t even met the guy and already my mental little black book had many red crosses next to his name. All in all, that didn’t say a lot for Max, since I was so overly certain that the father was like the son.

Four years had been a long time for Mum to mull over a decision, but
I wouldn’t have expected anything different from her especially considering the serious nature of the decision’s outcome. However, I had to question what had really changed her mind in the end. Did Louis come to see her a final time? I just couldn’t seem to believe it was all her idea.

At the sight of some old, overgrown, stone steps coming up in front of me in the track, I slowed my gentle jogging into a walk. Even though the steps had clearly deteriorated from their original pristine stat
e, they were still relatively intact. Yet for fear of them collapsing into a pile of rubble and taking my heavy feet with them, I couldn’t stop myself from tip-toeing. A couple of careful steps later and I was at the bottom, thanking the ancient steps for choosing to keep me alive.

Facing the path in front of me again, I noticed another dilemma. A fork in the track. I couldn’t remember seeing a separate trail leading off
from the major one on the sign. Except of course, for the one I’d passed near the entrance, which would have been the returning path of the circular track I was on. Logically, I couldn’t distinguish either path from the other in terms of practicality or possible disaster. The only thing I could think to do was to pick one and follow it. If it started to get late in the day, I could always turn around and come back the way I had come, couldn’t I?

I did a quick ‘eenie, meanie, minie, moe’ and the path to the right won out.
I headed off in that direction, picking up my pace until I was jogging once again, while I tried hard not to acknowledge a little voice in my head telling me that I’d picked the wrong road. I’d run a fair distance before noticing that there was something odd about the path and it wasn’t just that the track was becoming smaller and more overgrown. There was also the fact that somehow the forest had begun to feel denser and darker, and that all the bird calls I’d heard earlier, not to mention that all of the active little animals I’d seen had completely disappeared. Silence now filled the still air around me and a light chill wrapped itself around my body. I slowed down to a wary walk and refused to listen to my overactive imagination and all the scary possibilities it was suggesting might be at the end of the track.

After a few seconds of s
colding myself for not taking my mum’s advice and sticking inside the city walls, I finally made my mind up to turn around. Just as I made a move to head back the way I’d come, an eardrum-shredding gunshot sliced through the silence, followed closely by an agonizing howl. I stood frozen in shock, while my body went coldly numb and I found it difficult to keep myself upright as I glared in surprise at the person standing on the path behind me.

Sam had already lowered the shotgun and now held it loosely by his side in his right hand. He smiled at me apologetically and then looked down at the lifeless and blood drenched figure lying across the path. I couldn’t help but follow his gaze. It was a shortish man
with dark auburn hair, possibly even a teenager by the look of his blood-spattered, French soccer jersey and jeans.

“Y
—you killed him,” I coughed out as I raised my eyes back up to Sam’s.

Sam shrugged and stepped over the body towards me, careful
not to get any blood on his black sneakers or the bottom of his dark, denim jeans. “No,” he said, with a half-hearted frown. “Just injured him. He’s not going to be very happy with me when he comes to.”

Sam grabbed my right hand with his free one and led me round the body, then started dragging me back down the path. My mouth was still open in
dumb shocked surprise and my mind hadn’t quite come to the realization of what had just happened. I looked back over my shoulder at the body and stumbled along beside Sam until it was too difficult for him to lead me and he stopped.

“Kitty,” he said, ster
nly, trying to get my attention. “He is going to be fine. But I can swear to you that if we stick around here waiting for him to wake up or for his friends to show up, we won’t be, okay? Now, come on.” Sam tightened his grip on my hand and started pulling me through the forest again.

Soon the body was out of sight and the majority of the shock had left my system. My attention returned back to the dangers of the path and to Sam. My head
reeled with questions I needed to have answered and I wanted them answered now. Assumptions only got me so far.

“So,” I began, choosing my words carefully, “you shot him, because he was
—a runaway werewolf from a zoo.”

Sam glanced back at me and rolled his dark violet eyes.
“Something like that,” he said.

“So he was a werewolf,” I said, surpris
ed that I’d got something right. “But not one of the Tiennans’?”

Sam brushed past another pesky, overhanging branch and I saw that we were back at the fork in the track near the old steps. Without the hesit
ation or caution that I’d shown them earlier, Sam marched up the steps, hard and fast, and dragged me hurriedly behind him.

“No,” he said fi
nally, in answer to my question. “He was not one of the Tiennans’ wolves. There is a small colony of werewolves just north of that path you were following. Most of them are rogues from the southern French packs. The others are newly turned puppies. You’re lucky that your stalker was still a pup and hadn’t passed more than about three moons.” Sam stopped me for a second and held up the shot gun. “Otherwise, this,” he said, lifting the gun in acknowledgement, “might have not been enough to save you.”

Ignoring my pouty frown at being somewhat scolded by my guardian angel, Sam spun around again and continued to drag me briskly along the path.
“What were you doing out here, anyway,” he asked, clearly angry at me.

“I should ask you the sa
me thing,” I said disobediently. “How did you know where I was? Did you follow me?”

Sam glared at me over his shoulder, but caved in first.
“Your Mum rang me shortly after you left, although I already knew where you were going,” Sam muttered, his eyes now focused back on the track.

I stared out plainly into the greenery of the forest and made a mental reminder to tell my mum to but
t out of my business. Then I frowned back at Sam. “How could you possibly know where I had been heading,” I asked him, finding a flaw in his answer and getting irritated.

He ducked under a low hanging vine and dodged another unearthed tree root. I followed
automatically, all the while glaring at the shaggy golden hair on the back of his head and the tight black t-shirt wrapped tightly around his back and shoulders.

“Well,” I asked.

Sam glanced back at me with a quizzically raised eyebrow, then sighed and went back to avoiding clingy branches. “I just know,” he said quietly. “I’ve always known where you are and where you’re going. I can just sense it.” He glanced over his shoulder at me again and I stared into his concerned and serious eyes. “I think our minds have always been linked,” he said. “It’s just that some of us are too stubborn or afraid to open up and let anyone else in.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at me again, almost in challenge, and I gave him a smirk.

I pushed his left shoulder gently with my free hand and smiled. “Okay, Obi Wan, I get the point,” I said. “And if I have to admit it, I’m glad you were there to help me. Now can we please get out of this forest? It’s starting to give me the creeps.”

Sam grinned at me and pulled me closer to him.
“With pleasure,” he said.

I’d managed to stub my toes at least three more times on viciously, arching tree roots before we made it free of the forest and back out onto the road. But, even out there in broad daylight, Sam wasn’t convinced that we’d be safe. That was probably due to the fact that the guy he’d shot was most likely awake and hunting for us. Not until we were in the confined ‘safety’ of Saint Jean’s city walls was Sam happy to stop dragging me.

“Now, Kitty,” he said, as we stepped over the threshold an
d he dropped my hand to face me. “You’re not planning on going on anymore little adventures like that anytime soon, are you? Because if you are, maybe you could warn me first?”

I glared mockingly at him and put my hands on my hips.
“If you mean am I planning to leave Saint Jean with the promise of being eaten or turned by a pack of rogue werewolves, then I’d have to say no.”

“Good,” Sam s
aid, with a hint of real relief. ‘I’ve already got enough problem people to deal with inside the city walls without you having to add a couple of extra outside enemies.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, not impressed at all by his tone and I pursed my lips. Then a thought hit me, something my mum had said earlier, something about Saint Jean. I dropped my hands from my hips and I felt my expression change with serious curiosity. I took a step towards Sam and looked into his
face which now showed a little confusion. “When my mum called you,” I said, “she must have mentioned that we talked.”

Sam looked at me, still confused and narrowed his eyes.
“Yes,” he said as he crossed his arms. “Why?”

“Well,
she said something about the town, something about it being all—evil,” I said, biting my lip at how funny it sounded. “I just wanted to see if you thought it was true.”

Sam’s expression cleared and he smiled weakly at me.
“Was that all,” he asked. “You had me worried.” He grabbed my hand again gently and started leading me slowly down a winding, pot-plant filled alleyway. “Let me ask you a question,” said Sam. “What does a normal town have that this one doesn’t?”

I glanced up at him and then screwed my face up in thought. I stared at the dark green vines and shrubs that outlin
ed the buildings of the alley in front of us and I tried hard to find the answer. Saint Jean had houses, homes and buildings; it had water, electricity and food. I rattled off a few more assets in my head until I realized that I hadn’t seen any children, or better yet barely any adults.

I looked back up into Sam’s solemn eyes and frowned.
“People,” I almost whispered. “Humans, besides the odd supernatural creature here and there, I don’t think I’ve seen many, if any, actual
people
.”

Sam smiled sadly at me.
“Yes,” he said. “Humans haven’t lived in Saint Jean for more than three hundred years now. The only ones that ever set foot into the city are those captured from surrounding towns to feed the Tiennan family and their pets.”

I lowered my head and looked at my feet as my mother’s words came back to me. There were no humans in Saint Jean, no innocents, the whole town was evil. I started to feel cold and desperately alone. I knew I wasn’t human anymore, not fully anyway, there would always be somethin
g in me that was different. But it scared me to be a part of another world I’d never known before. I started to feel as though I didn’t fit in anywhere, as though I would always be between worlds without ever truly fitting into one.